Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney
49. The snake tribe (p. 294): Rattlesnake--The custom of asking
1691 words | Chapter 204
pardon of slain or offended animals has already been noted under
number 15, "The Fourfooted Tribes," and number 35, "The Bird Tribes"
(eagle). Reverence for the rattlesnake was universal among the Indians,
and has been repeatedly remarked by travelers in every part of the
country. To go into a dissertation upon the great subject of serpent
worship is not a part of our purpose.
The missionary Washburn tells how, among the Cherokee of Arkansas,
he was once riding along, accompanied by an Indian on foot, when
they discovered a poisonous snake coiled beside the path. "I observed
Blanket turned aside to avoid the serpent, but made no signs of attack,
and I requested the interpreter to get down and kill it. He did so,
and I then inquired of Blanket why he did not kill the serpent. He
answered, 'I never kill snakes and so the snakes never kill me;
but I will tell you about it when you next come to see me.'" He kept
his word soon after by relating as a personal experience (probably,
in fact, an Indian dream) a long story of having once been conducted
by a rattlesnake to an underground council of the rattlesnake tribe,
where he found all the snakes lamenting over one of their number
who had been recently killed by an Indian, and debating the method of
punishment, which was executed a day or two later by inflicting a fatal
bite upon the offender while engaged in the ballplay (Reminiscences,
pp. 208-212). As told by the missionary, the story is very much dressed
up, but strikingly resembles number 58, "The Rattlesnake's Vengeance."
Adair, evidently confusing several Cherokee snake myths, speaks of
some reputed gigantic rattlesnakes in the Cherokee mountains, with
beautiful changing colors and great power of fascination, by which
they drew into their jaws any living creature coming within their
vision, and continues: "They call them and all of the rattlesnake
kind, kings or chieftains of the snakes, and they allow one such
to every different species of the brute creation. An old trader of
Cheeowhee told me that for the reward of two pieces of stroud cloth
he engaged a couple of young warriors to show him the place of their
resort; but the headmen would not by any means allow it, on account
of a superstitious tradition--for they fancy the killing of them would
expose them to the danger of being bit by the other inferior species of
the serpentine tribe, who love their chieftains and know by instinct
those who maliciously killed them, as they fight only in their own
defense and that of their young ones, never biting those who do not
disturb them." He mentions also an instance of a Chickasaw priest
who, after having applied to his hands the juice of a certain plant,
took up a rattlesnake without damage and laid it carefully in a hollow
tree to prevent Adair's killing it (History of the American Indians,
pp. 237-238).
Of the Carolina tribes generally, Lawson, in 1701, says: "As for
killing of snakes, they avoid it if they lie in their way, because
their opinion is that some of the serpents' kindred would kill some of
the savage's relations that should destroy him" (History of Carolina,
p. 341).
Bartram says of the Seminoles, about 1775: "These people never
kill the rattlesnake or any other serpent, saying, if they do so,
the spirit of the killed snake will excite or influence his living
kindred or relatives to revenge the injury or violence done to him
when alive." He recounts an amusing incident of his own experience
where the Indians sent for him to come and kill a rattlesnake which had
invaded their camp ground, and which they were afraid to disturb. Their
request having been complied with, the Indians then insisted upon
scratching him, according to the Indian custom, in order to let out
some of his superabundant blood and courage, but were finally, with
some difficulty, dissuaded from their purpose. "Thus it seemed that
the whole was a ludicrous farce to satisfy their people and appease
the manes of the dead rattlesnake" (Travels, pp. 258-261).
The trader Henry (Travels, pp. 176-179) narrates a most interesting
instance from among the Ojibwa of Lake Superior in 1764. While
gathering wood near the camp he was startled by a sudden rattle,
and looking down discovered a rattlesnake almost at his feet, with
body coiled and head raised to strike.
"I no sooner saw the snake, than I hastened to the canoe, in order
to procure my gun; but, the Indians observing what I was doing,
inquired the occasion, and being informed, begged me to desist. At
the same time, they followed me to the spot, with their pipes and
tobacco-pouches in their hands. On returning, I found the snake
still coiled.
"The Indians, on their part, surrounded it, all addressing it by
turns, and calling it their grandfather; but yet keeping at some
distance. During this part of the ceremony, they filled their pipes;
and now each blew the smoke toward the snake, who, as it appeared
to me, really received it with pleasure. In a word, after remaining
coiled, and receiving incense, for the space of half an hour, it
stretched itself along the ground, in visible good humor. Its length
was between four and five feet. Having remained outstretched for
some time, at last it moved slowly away, the Indians following it,
and still addressing it by the title of grandfather, beseeching it to
take care of their families during their absence, and to be pleased
to open the heart of Sir William Johnson [the British Indian agent,
whom they were about to visit], so that he might show them charity,
and fill their canoe with rum. One of the chiefs added a petition,
that the snake would take no notice of the insult which had been
offered him by the Englishman, who would even have put him to death,
but for the interference of the Indians, to whom it was hoped he would
impute no part of the offence. They further requested, that he would
remain, and inhabit their country, and not return among the English;
that is, go eastward."
He adds that the appearance of the rattlesnake so far north was
regarded as an extraordinary omen, and that very little else was
spoken of for the rest of the evening. The next day, while steering
across Lake Huron in their canoe, a terrible storm came up.
"The Indians, beginning to be alarmed, frequently called on the
rattlesnake to come to their assistance. By degrees the waves
grew high; and at 11 o'clock it blew a hurricane, and we expected
every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers, the Indians now
proceeded to sacrifices, both alike offered to the god-rattlesnake,
or manito-kinibic. One of the chiefs took a dog, and after tying its
forelegs together, threw it overboard, at the same time calling on the
snake to preserve us from being drowned, and desiring him to satisfy
his hunger with the carcass of the dog. The snake was unpropitious,
and the wind increased. Another chief sacrificed another dog,
with the addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied
these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon
the Indians the insult which he had received from myself, in the
conception of a design to put him to death. He assured the snake,
that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin neither to him nor to
them. At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian, who sat near me,
observed, that if we were drowned it would be for my fault alone, and
that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the angry manito,
nor was I without apprehensions, that in case of extremity, this
would be my fate; but, happily for me, the storm at length abated,
and we reached the island safely."
The Delawares also, according to Heckewelder, called the rattlesnake
grandfather and refrained from injuring him. He says: "One day, as
I was walking with an elderly Indian on the banks of the Muskingum,
I saw a large rattlesnake lying across the path, which I was going
to kill. The Indian immediately forbade my doing so; 'for,' said he,
'the rattlesnake is grandfather to the Indians, and is placed here
on purpose to guard us, and to give us notice of impending danger
by his rattle, which is the same as if he were to tell us, 'look
about.' 'Now,' added he, 'if we were to kill one of those, the others
would soon know it, and the whole race would rise upon us and bite
us.' I observed to him that the white people were not afraid of this;
for they killed all the rattlesnakes that they met with. On this he
enquired whether any white man had been bitten by these animals, and of
course I answered in the affirmative. 'No wonder, then!' replied he,
'you have to blame yourselves for that. You did as much as declaring
war against them, and you will find them in your country, where they
will not fail to make frequent incursions. They are a very dangerous
enemy; take care you do not irritate them in our country; they and
their grandchildren are on good terms, and neither will hurt the
other.' These ancient notions have, however in a great measure died
away with the last generation, and the Indians at present kill their
grandfather, the rattlesnake, without ceremony, whenever they meet
with him" (Indian Nations, p. 252).
Salikwâyi--"The old Tuscaroras had a custom, which they supposed would
keep their teeth white and strong through life. A man caught a snake
and held it by its head and tail. Then he bit it through, all the
way from the head to the tail, and this kept the teeth from decay"
(W. M. Beauchamp, Iroquois Notes, in Journal of American Folk-Lore,
July, 1892).
Send torrents of rain--The belief in a connection between the serpent
and the rain-gods is well-nigh universal among primitive peoples,
and need only be indicated here.
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