Kitchi-Gami: Life Among the Lake Superior Ojibway

CHAPTER IX

DEATH OF A CHILD. 105 CHAPTER IX. DEATH OF A CHILD-THE MEDICINE-MAN-FEAR OF DEATH-FUNERAL CEREl!ONIES-THE CONSOLERS-THE DOLL OF MISFORTUNE-AFFECTING CUSTOM-A SAD ACCIDENT-THE LOFTY FIR-TREE-FAMILY Al'FAIRSTREATMENT OF THE AGED- POLYGAMY- MARRIAGE WITH SISTERSMOURNING -INDIAN ARITHUETIC-PAYMENT OF THE TRIBUTE-LIVING REGISTERS-A RECEIPT IN FUL1.-A DRUNKEN SQUAW-SORROW OF HER ClliLD-NOVEL USE FOR A CAP. THE drum had been beaten two evenings in succession in a lodge about half a mile from mine, in which a young couple lived. There was a sick and dying child there, which the doctors attended daily. One evening, passing near the wigwam, I could not resist the temptation to peep in, and so lifted one of the loose apakwas. I had chosen the right spot, for I was opposite the doctor and his little patient. The poor little being lay in its father's arms, who looked remarkably sorrowful and grieved. Before him knelt the doctor, who crawled first up and then back again. He gazed fixedly on the suffering child, and kept his eye fixed on it as on his prey. It was much like a cat playing with a mouse, except that in this case the illness and not the child represented the mouse to be captured. 106 THE MEDICINE-MAN. The doctor's chief instrument was a hollow, very white, and carefully polished bone. This bone, which was about two and a half inches long, and of the thickness of a little finger, the doctor repeatedly swallowed, then brought it up agaiq., blew on the child through it, sucked up the skin through the tube, and then ejected the 1llness he had drawn out into a basin with many strange and terrible convulsions. All this was accompanied by incessant drumming, rattling, and singing by an assistant of the doctor, and many sighs from the mother of the child. But for all that the poor little thing was hurrying rapidly to the grave. The next morning, when I arrived at an early hour, and walked into the lodge as a sympathising neighbour, the doctor was no longer present. But the child still lay in its father's lap wrapped in a thick blanket. He held it most tenderly. The mother seemed utterly exhausted by the exertions of the past night, and lay on the ground with her face concealed in skins. All were perfectly still, and took no more notice of me than on the previous evening. The suffering patient was at the last gasp. On the evening of the same day I again passed, but could not find the lodge. At length I convinced myself, at least, that I had found the right spot. But the hut itself had been utterly removed, the inhabitants had disappeared, the fire extinguished, and all their property carried away. The little being was dead, and already buried, and the mourning parents, after the Ojibbeway fashion, had broken up their lodge, and put out their fire, and gone to live temporarily with some relations.* * "Les lndiens craignent la mortalite," my Canadians repeatedly said to me. Hence they bury their deceased as soon as possible. They do not MOURNING CEREMONIES. 107 I was guided to the house where they were, and found them sitting very thoughtfully and mournfully among their friends. There were, though, a great many persons present, and extraordinary noise and confusion. Singing and drumming were going on, and they seemed to me like corybantes trying to expel sorrow. "So it is," my Canadian companion said; "these drummers and singers are c consolateurs,' whom our Indians engage on such occasions and pay hand. somely. Usually they choose a 'vieillard parleur' like our Vieux Espagnol. (This was an old chattering Indian who at times visited us.) " But these conso. lateurs make no allusion to the event that has oc· cured: ils chantent les chansons les plus recreatives, et racontent des histoires pour leur faire oublier leur chagrin." Such a consolation lasts a considerable time, for I heard the drums for several evenings while passing the house where my young mourners were residing. Both among the Ojibbeways and other Indian tribes it is a very general custom to cut off a lock of hair in remembrance of their deceased children, especially those still at the breast, and wrap it up in paper and gay ribbons. Round it they lay the playthings...