Owindia | Page 6

does, he is a bad 'Nakani.'"
"I think some one has made medicine on him," said another; "he is
possessed, and will get worse till the spell is off him."
This medicine making among the Northern Indians is one of the most
firmly rooted of all their superstitions. The term is by no means well
chosen or descriptive of the strange ungodly rite; it is in reality a charm
or spell which one man is supposed to lay upon another. It is employed
for various purposes and by different means of operations. You will
hear of one man 'making medicine' to ascertain what time the
Company's boats may be expected, or when certain sledges of meat
may come to the Fort. Another man is sick and the medicine-man is

summoned, and a drum is beaten during the night with solemn
monotonous 'tum, tum, tum', and certain confidential communications
take place between the Doctor and his patient, during which the sick
man is supposed to divulge every secret he may possess, and on the
perfect sincerity of his revelation must depend his recovery.
The accompaniments of this strange scene vary according to
circumstances. In some cases a basin of blood of some animal is made
use of; in most instances a knife or dagger plays an important part. I
have seen one of these, which, by-the-by, is most difficult to obtain,
and can only be seen by special favour. It is made of bone or ivory,
beautifully carved and notched at the edges, with various dots or
devices upon it, and all, both dots and notches, arranged in groups of
sevens! After some hours the spell may be supposed to work, the sick
man feels better, the excitement of the medicine-man increases, all
looks promising; yet at this moment should a white face enter the house
or tent, still more, should he venture to touch either doctor or patient,
the spell would be instantly broken, and the whole process must be
commenced anew.
The spell has been wrought upon a poor Cree Woman at Ile la C. She is
perfectly convinced as to who did her the injury, and also that it was
her hands which it was intended should suffer. Accordingly each
Spring, for some years past, her hands are rendered powerless by a
foul-looking, scaly eruption, which comes over them. Indians have
been known to climb an almost inaccessible rock, and stripping
themselves of every vestige of clothing, to lie there without food or
drink, singing and invoking the wonder-worker until the revelation of
some secret root was made known, by which their design for good or
evil might be accomplished!
A Cree Indian, a man of sound education, related once the following
story:--"I was suffering in the year 18----from great distress of body,
and after seeing a doctor and feeling no better, I began to think I must
be the victim of some medicine-man. I thought over my adventures of
the last year or two, to discover if there were any who had reason to
wish me evil. Yes, there was one man, a Swampy Indian. I had
quarrelled with him, and then we had had words; and I spoke, well, I
spoke bitterly (which I ought not to have done, for he was the injured
man) and he vowed to revenge himself upon me. This was some years

since, however, and I had never given him a thought since the time of
our quarrel, but now I was certain a spell was over me, and he must
have wrought it,--I knew of no other enemy, and I was determined to
overcome it or die. So I saddled my horse and rode across country for
thirty miles till I reached the dwelling of the Swampy. The man was
outside, and started when he saw me, which convinced me more than
ever that I was on the right scent. I put up my horse and followed my
man into the house whither he had retreated; and wasting no time, came
to the point at once. Drawing my revolver and pointing it to his heart,
'Villain,' I exclaimed, 'you have made medicine on me: tell me your
secret or I shall shoot you dead.' I never saw a more cowed and more
wretched-looking being than my man became. I expected at least some
resistance to my command; but he offered none; for without attempting
to stir or even look me in the face, he smiled a ghastly smile, and
muttered, 'It has done its work then--well, I am glad! Look in your
horse-saddle, and never provoke me more.' I hesitated for a moment
whether to loosen my hold upon the man, and to believe so improbable
a story; but on the whole I deemed it better to do so. He had fulfilled