Texts of the North American Indian

Writings of E.S. Curtis
Excerpts from "The North American Indian" Set #254, Vol. 8

THE CHINOOKAN TRIBES (cont'd)

Any one guilty of murder, that is, the killing of a tribesman, even though the deed were justifiable, had to spend a year in seclusion, either among the rocks, or, especially in winter, in a little hut on the edge of the village. He was not permitted to eat with others, nor to drink from their water-vessels, nor from a spring - for the spring would have failed. He could not fell a tree, for the forest would have withered.

The Wishham word yúhlmah applies to all that pertains to the supernatural, from that which is merely uncanny to the extremely emotional religious observance. The subtle disease which takes the life of a loved one is yúhlmah, and so is the insect's unexplained ability to throw off a leg or a claw to escape captivity. The good and the evil of their lives are all an inseparable part of their belief in yúhlmah. They are bound by chains of supernaturalism to an unusual degree. A remarkable feature of their belief and practice is the evil magic of the itóhiul. These were men who in their visions had received yúhlmah which gave them invulnerability and hence the privilege to kill or commit lesser crime. Inasmuch as it was their yúhlmah which permitted these men to do evil, the people were in terror of them, and usually submitted to their outrages. Every phase of the tribal life was in some way involved with the necromancy of these magicians of evil. Previous and succeeding references seem to illustrate amply this feature of Chinookan belief, and for that reason no extended discussion of the men or their acts seems to be needed.

The Wishham attainment of supernatural attributes was attended with far less than the ordinary travail. When seven or eight years of age a boy was instructed by his father or other male relative in the mysteries of the acquirement of yúhlmah, and bidden to begin his journeyings to lonely spots among the high hills, that the spirits might come to him. There was no preparatory purification by sweating or other means, and usually no long fastings or waiting in the hills; the child suppliant as a rule merely made the journey thither and back in the gathering darkness. This was soon followed by similar travels, occupying as much as two days, to more distant hills, such journeys being undertaken at intervals during several years. On one of these pilgrimages some phenomenon, creature, plant, or rock might appear to the boy, and sing songs for him. If so, he might discontinue his quest, or continue in hope of securing further spiritual aid. In any event he under no circumstances mentioned to any one what occurred while out on these long walks in twilight and darkness. Whatever spirit appeared to him became his yúhlmah, and any success or distinction that came to him through life was due wholly to this guardian spirit. Through such agency his life was largely predestined. Some by their yúhlmah became healers; others the malign itóhiul; others by their spiritual helpers attained wealth. No one ever told just what spirit had given him songs, nor did any words in them reveal clearly its identity.

For some years following the acquisition of his guardian spirit the recipient made no outward demonstration; still he knew that the power was within him, and, whether its forces were for good or for evil, he could not in any way bring about a material change in the destiny of his life. The first visible manifestation of a man's yúhlmah was the public singing of the revealed songs, and it was dangerous to delay too long such singing, since to do so might cause the yúhlmah to make one ill in its effort to show itself. The usual time to give forth these songs was at the great winter medicine ceremonies. At these occasions a youth, having reached manhood, suddenly broke forth into singing one of the supposedly revealed songs, and that was the first intimation any one had that a spirit had appeared to him.

This most important ceremony of the Wishham was Achugwágwa, the five-day winter function for the rendition of yúhlmah songs. When a person to whom some yúhlmah had given songs fell ill of indisposition, but not of a positive disease or recognized disorder, it might be that the cause was his failure to release the songs. His guardian spirit, the possession of which the sick person had never intimated to any one, was in fact making the body sick in its effort to burst forth. The family therefore invited all the people to their house regardless of whether they had medicine-songs or not.

At noon of the first day the women, and no others, entered the house for the preliminary part of the ceremony. In the back part of the room was a pole extending to the roof, planted just in front of a platform covered with an elk-skin. This pole was a peeled fir, specially cut for the occasion by a man hired by the family, and sometimes painted by a medicine-man, who let it down through the roof, but never brought it in at the door. The sick person was the first to sing and dance on the platform. Coming from his place, with hair hanging loosely over his face, and looking away from the women in deference to their greater experience in matters pertaining to yúhlmah, he began to sing one of the songs taught him in childhood by his guardian spirit, and moved toward the platform. Two women, expert at catching an air, immediately joined in the singing, and gradually they were accompanied by all the others as they learned the song. Then one of the women whose yúhlmah prompted her to do so took her place on the elk-skin, held the pole, and danced, singing one of her sacred songs, while the others joined in the singing and dancing, standing without any regular order about the room. When this song finished, there was a moment of silence, then another woman began to sing one of her own songs, at the same time starting for the platform, where she also stood on the skin and danced, holding to the pole, while as before the other women sang and danced. In this manner they proceeded for about half the afternoon.

In the evening men and women entered promiscuously. Some of the younger and middle-aged women who had yúhlmah sat around the platform facing the crowd, who sat grouped against the walls without any particular order. When the sick person felt so inclined, he began to sing his song and went to the platform, held the pole, and danced up and down, still singing. At the same time the women around the platform danced, and they, as well as the others present, whether possessors of yúhlmah or not, joined in the singing. When he had finished, any person in the room might start his or her song, and dance on the elk-skin. They continued until sunrise, with two or three pauses for eating. As the night wore on their fervor increased, and excitement became intense.

EDWARD S. CURTIS