The Indians are a very superstitious race of people, and there are always some who are willing to take advantage of the weakness of their countrymen to serve their own interest. Such are the jugglers and sorcerers—an artful and mischievous set of people. They pretend to have power over the elements, to bring rain, to cure sickness, to cause death, and to change themselves to any form, by means of their charms and medicine.
Mr. Heckewelder was one day walking out, during a very severe drought, and came upon an old conjurer, named Chenos, who was engaged in some of his mummeries. The missionary asked him what he was doing.
“Oh,” said he, “I am hired to do a very hard day’s work. I am going to bring down rain from the sky; don’t you see how much it is wanted, and that the corn and everything else is perishing?”
“But can you make it rain?” said Mr. Heckewelder.
“Certainly,” replied the old conjurer, “and you shall be convinced of it this very day.”
He had, by this time, encompassed a square, of about five feet each way, with stakes and pieces of bark, so that it might resemble a pig-pen of about three feet in height, and now, with his face uplifted and turned towards the north, he muttered some words, as if invoking a superior being. He did the same on the south, and then made a small opening in the side of the pen. “Now,” said he, “we shall have rain enough.”
And he was right; a few hours afterwards, the sky suddenly became overcast, and a plentiful shower of rain succeeded; proving to every Indian’s mind, the power of their conjurer, and the efficacy of his prayers. It is evident that the old Chenos had paid good attention to the signs of the weather, and his experience enabled him to foresee that there would soon be rain, without the aid of supernatural powers.
The Indians put great faith in dreams; they believe that while the body sleeps, the soul leaves it and acts for itself; and they think that everything which they dream ought to be fulfilled when they awake.
A chief of the Mohawk tribe, Hendrick by name, resolved to turn this belief to good account. On a visit to Sir William Johnson, the superintendent of Indian affairs in America, he had been very much struck with the brilliancy of his host’s suit of clothes, which were new and were richly covered with gold lace. A few days afterwards, he called on Sir William, and told him that he had dreamed a most singular dream. The other inquired what it was.
“I dreamed,” answered Hendrick, “that you gave me the fine suit which you wore the other day.”