This method consisted in the dexterous intertwining of knots on strings, so as to render them auxiliaries to the memory. The instrument was composed of one thick head or top string, to which, at certain distances, thinner ones were fastened. The top string was much thicker than these pendent strings and consisted of two doubly twisted threads, over which two single threads were wound. The branches, or pendent strings, were fastened to the top ones by a single loop; the knots were made in the pendent strings and were either single or manifold. The length of the strings was various. The transverse or top string often measures several yards, and sometimes only a foot; the branches are seldom more than 2 feet long, and in general they are much shorter.
The strings were often of different colors, each having its own particular signification. The color for soldiers was red; for gold, yellow; for silver, white; for corn, green, etc. The quipu was especially employed for numerical and statistical tables; each single knot representing ten; each double knot stood for one hundred; each triple knot for one thousand, etc.; two single knots standing together made twenty; and two double knots, two hundred.
In this manner the ancient Peruvians kept the accounts of their army. On one string were numbered the soldiers armed with slings; on another the spearmen; on a third, those who carried clubs, etc. In the same manner the military reports were prepared. In every town some expert men were appointed to tie the knots of the quipu and to explain them. These men were called quipucamayocuna (literally, officers of the knots.) The appointed officers required great dexterity in unriddling the meaning of the knots. It, however, seldom happened that they had to read a quipu without some verbal commentary. Something was always required to be added if the quipu came from a distant province, to explain whether it related to the numbering of the population, to tributes, or to war, etc. This method of calculation is still practiced by the shepherds of Puna. On the first branch or string they usually place the number of the bulls; on the second, that of the cows, the latter being classed into those which were milked and those which were not milked; on the next string were numbered the calves according to their ages and sizes. Then came the sheep, in several subdivisions. Next followed the number of foxes killed, the quantity of salt consumed, and, finally, the cattle that had been slaughtered. Other quipus showed the produce of the herds in milk, cheese, wool, etc. Each list was distinguished by a particular color or by some peculiarity in the twisting of the string.
Other accounts tell that the descendants of the Quiches still use the quipu, perhaps as modified by themselves, for numeration. They pierce beans and hang them by different colored strings, each of which represents one of the column places used in decimal arithmetic. A green string signifies 1,000; a red one, 100; a yellow, 10, and a white refers to the 9 smaller digits. Thus if 7 beans are on a green, 2 on a red, 8 on a yellow, and 6 on a white string, and the whole tied together, the bundle expresses the number 7,286.
Before the time of their acquaintance with the quipus, the Peruvians used in the same way pebbles or maize-beans of various colors. The same practice was known in Europe in the prehistoric period. The habit of many persons in civilized countries to tie a knot in the handkerchief to recall an idea or fact to mind is a familiar example to show how naturally the action would suggest itself for the purpose, and perhaps indicates the inheritance of the practice.
Dr. Andree (b) gives an illustration of a quipu (here reproduced as part of Pl. XVI), which he represents as taken from Perez, and states that the drawing was made soon after the exhuming of the object from an ancient Peruvian grave.
Capt. Bourke (a) gives descriptions and illustrations of varieties of the izze-kloth or medicine cord of the Apache. A condensed extract of his remarks is as follows:
These cords, in their perfection, are decorated with beads and shells strung along at intervals, with pieces of the sacred green chalchihuitl, which has had such a mysterious ascendancy over the minds of the American Indians—Aztec, Peruvian, Quiche, as well as the more savage tribes like the Apache and Navajo; with petrified wood, rock crystal, eagle down, claws of the hawk or eaglet, claws of the bear, rattle of the rattlesnake, buckskin bags of hoddentin, circles of buckskin in which are inclosed pieces of twigs and branches of trees which have been struck by lightning, small fragments of the abalone shell from the Pacific coast, and much other sacred paraphernalia of a similar kind.
That the use of these cords was reserved for the most sacred and important occasions I soon learned. They were not to be seen on occasions of no moment, but the dances for war, medicine, and summoning the spirits at once brought them out, and every medicine man of any consequence would appear with one hanging from his right shoulder over his left hip.
These cords will protect a man while on the warpath, and many of the Apache believe firmly that a bullet will have no effect upon the warrior wearing one of them. This is not their only virtue by any means; the wearer can tell who has stolen ponies or other property from him or from his friends, can help the crops, and cure the sick. If the circle attached to one of these cords is placed upon the head it will at once relieve any ache, while the cross attached to another prevents the wearer from going astray, no matter where he may be; in other words, it has some connection with cross-trails and the four cardinal points, to which the Apache pay the strictest attention.
I was at first inclined to associate these cords with the quipus of the Peruvians and also with the wampum of the aborigines of the Atlantic coast, and investigation only confirms this first suspicion.
The praying beads of the Buddhists and of many Oriental peoples, who have used them from high antiquity, are closely allied to the quipu. They are more familiar now in the shape of the rosaries of Roman Catholics. In the absence of manufactured articles, arranged on wires, the necessary materials were easily procured. Berries, nuts, pease, or beans strung in any manner answered the purpose. The abacus of the Chinese and Greeks was connected in origin with the same device.
E. F. im Thurn (d) says of the Nikari-Karu Indians of Guiana:
At last, after four days’ stay, we got off. The two or three people from Euwari-manakuroo who came with us gave their wives knotted strings of quippus, each knot representing one of the days they expected to be away, and the whole string thus forming a calendar to be used by the wives until the return of their husbands.
That the general idea or invention for mnemonic purposes appearing in the quipu was actually used pictorially is indicated in the illustrations of the sculptures of Santa Lucia Cosumalhuapa in Guatemala given by Dr. S. Habel (b). Upon these he remarks:
It has been frequently affirmed that the aborigines of America had nowhere arisen high enough in civilization to have characters for writing and numeral signs, but the sculptures of Santa Lucia exhibit signs which indicate a kind of cipher-writing higher in form than mere hieroglyphics. From the mouth of most of the human beings, living or dead, emanates a staff, variously bent, to the sides of which nodes are attached. These nodes are of different sizes and shapes, and variously distributed on the sides of the staff, either singly or in twos and threes, the last named either separated or in shape of a trefoil. This manner of writing not only indicates that the person is speaking or praying, but also indicates the very words, the contents of the speech or prayer. It is quite certain that each staff, as bent and ornamented, stood for a well-known petition, which the priest could read as easily as those acquainted with a cipher dispatch can know its purport. Further, one may be allowed to conjecture that the various curves of the staves served the purpose of strength and rhythm, just as the poet chooses his various meters for the same purpose.
The following notices of the ancient mnemonic use of knotted cords and of its survival in various parts of the world are extracted from the essay of Prof. Terrien de Lacouperie (d):
The Yang tung, south of Khoten, and consequently north of Tibet, who first communicated with China in A. D. 641, had no written characters. They only cut notches in sticks and tied knots in strings for records.
The Bratyki and Buriats of Siberia are credited with the use of knotted cords.
The Japanese are also reputed to have employed knots on strings or bind-weeds for records.
The Li of Hainan, being unacquainted with writing, use knotted cords or notched sticks in place of bonds or agreements.
In the first half of the present century cord records were still generally used in the Indian archipelago and Polynesia proper. The tax-gatherers in the island of Hawaii by this means kept accounts of all the articles collected by them from the inhabitants. A rope 400 fathoms long was used as a revenue book. It was divided into numerous portions corresponding to the various districts of the island; the portions were under the care of the tax-gatherers, who, with the aid of loops, knots, and tufts of different shapes, colors, and sizes, were enabled to keep an accurate account of the hogs, pigs, and pieces of sandal wood, etc., at which each person was taxed.
In Timor island, according to the Chinese records in 1618, the people had no writing. When they wanted to record something they did it with flat stones, and a thousand stones were represented by a string.
Knotted cords were originally used in Tibet, but we have no information about their system of using them. The bare statement comes from the Chinese annals.
The following statement regarding the same use by the Chinese is made by Ernest Faber (a). He says: “In the highest antiquity, government was carried on successfully by the use of knotted cords to preserve the memory of things. In subsequent ages, the sages substituted for these written characters. By means of these the doings of all the officers could be regulated and the affairs of all the people accurately examined.”
The use of notches for mere numeration was frequent, but there are also instances of their special significance.
The Dakotas, Hidatsa, and Shoshoni have been observed to note the number of days during which they journeyed from one place to another by cutting lines or notches upon a stick.
The coup sticks carried by Dakota warriors often bear a number of small notches, which refer to the number of the victims hit with the stick after they had been wounded or killed.
The young men and boys of the several tribes at Fort Berthold, Dakota, frequently carry a stick, upon which they cut a notch for every bird killed during a single expedition.
In Seaver’s (a) life of Mary Jemison it is set forth that the war chief in each tribe of Iroquois keeps a war-post, in order to commemorate great events and preserve the chronology of them. This post is a peeled stick of timber 10 or 12 feet high, and is erected in the village. For a campaign they make, or rather the chief makes, a perpendicular red mark about 3 inches long and half an inch wide. On the opposite side from this, for a scalp taken, they make a red cross, thus Greek cross On another side, for a prisoner taken alive, they make a red cross in this manner saltire with dot with a head or dot, and by placing these significant signs in so conspicuous a situation they are enabled to ascertain with great certainty the time and circumstances of past events.
It is suggested that the device first mentioned represents the scalp severed and lifted from the head, and that the second refers to the manner in which the prisoners were secured at night, pegged and tied in the style called spread-eagle.
Rev. Richard Taylor (a) notes that the Maori had neither the quipus nor wampum, but only a board shaped like a saw, which was called “he rakau wakapa-paranga,” or genealogical board. It was, in fact, a tally, having a notch for each name, and a blank space to denote where the male line failed and was succeeded by that of the female; youths were taught their genealogies by repeating the names of each ancestor to whom the notches referred.
It is supposed that the use by bakers of notched sticks or tallies, as they are called, still exists in some civilized regions, and there is an interesting history connected with the same wooden tallies, which until lately were used in the accounts of the exchequer of Great Britain. They also appear more recently and in a different use as the Khe-mou circulated by Tartar chiefs to designate the number of men and horses required to be furnished by each camp.
Prof. Robert E. C. Stearns (a) says that wampum consisted of beads of two principal colors having a cylindrical form, a quarter of an inch, more or less, in length, the diameter or thickness being usually about half the length. The color of the wampum determined its value. The term wampum, wampon, or wampom, and wampum-peege was apparently applied to these beads when strung or otherwise connected, fastened, or woven together. The illustration given by him is now reproduced as Fig. 163.
In the Jesuit Relations, 1656, p. 3, the first present of an Iroquois chief to Jesuit missionaries at a council is described. This was a great figure of the sun, made of 6,000 beads of wampum, which explained to them that the darkness shall not influence them in the councils and the sun shall enlighten them even in the depth of night.
Among the Iroquoian and Algonquian tribes wampum belts were generally used to record treaties. Mr. John Long (a) describes one of them:
The wampum belts given to Sir William Johnson, of immortal Indian memory, were in several rows, black on each side and white in the middle; the white being placed in the center was to express peace and that the path between them was fair and open. In the center of the belt was a figure of a diamond made of white wampum, which the Indians call the council fire.
In the Jesuit Relations, 1642, p. 53, it is said that among the northern Algonquins a present to deliver a prisoner consisted of three strings of wampum to break the three bonds by which he was supposed to be tied, one around the legs, one around the arms, and the third around the middle.
In the same Relations, 1653, p. 19, is a good example of messages attached to separate presents of wampum, etc. This was at a council in 1653 at the Huron town, 2 leagues from Quebec:
The first was given to dry the tears which are usually shed at the news of brave warriors massacred in combat.
The second served as an agreeable drink, as an antidote to whatever bitterness might remain in the heart of the French on account of the death of their people.
The third was to furnish a piece of bark or a covering for the dead, lest the sight of them should renew the old strife.
The fourth was to inter them and to tread well the earth upon their graves, in order that nothing should ever come forth from their tombs which could grieve their friends and cause the spirit of revenge to arise in their minds.
The fifth was to serve as a wrapping to pack up the arms which were henceforth not to be touched.
The sixth was to cleanse the river, soiled with so much blood.
The last, to exhort the Hurons to agree to what Onontio, the great captain of the French, should decide upon touching the peace.
As a rule there was no intrinsic significance in a wampum belt, or collar, as the French sometimes called it. It was not understood except by the memory of those to whom and by whom it was delivered. This is well expressed in a dialogue reported by Capt. de Lamothe Cadillac (a) in 1703:
[Council of Hurons at Fort Ponchartrain, June 3, 1703.]
Quarante-Sols. I come on my way to tell you what I propose to do at Montreal. Here is a collar which has been sent to us by the Iroquois, and which the Ottawas have brought to us; we do not know what it signifies.
M. de Lamothe. How have you received this collar without knowing the purpose for which it was sent you?
Quarante-Sols. It has already been long since we received it. I was not there, and our old men have forgotten what it said.
M. de Lamothe. Your old men are not regarded as children to have such a short memory.
Quarante-Sols. We do not accept this collar; but we are going to take it to Sonnontouan [the Seneca town] to find out what it means; because it is a serious matter not to respond to a collar; it is the custom among us. The Ottawas can tell you what it is, because our people have forgotten it.
M. de Lamothe. The Ottawas will reply that having received it you should remember it, but since this collar is dumb and has lost its speech I am obliged to be silent myself.
In the Diary of the Siege of Detroit (a) it is narrated that after receiving a belt of wampum from the commanding officer the Pottawatomi chief called it the officer’s “mouth,” and said that those to whom it was sent would believe it when “they saw his mouth.”
But wampum designs, besides being mere credentials, and thus like the Australian message sticks, and also mnemonic, became, to some extent, conventional. The predominance of white beads indicated peace, and purple or violet meant war.
On the authority of Sir Daniel Wilson (a) a string of black wampum sent round the settlement is still among the Indians of the Six Nations the notice of the death of a chief.
The Iroquois belts had an arrangement of wampum to signify the lakes, rivers, mountains, valleys, portages, and falls along the path of trail between them and the Algonkins, who were parties to their treaty in 1653.
On the authority of a manuscript letter from St. Ange to D’Abbadie, September 9, 1764, quoted by Parkman (a), Pontiac’s great wampum belt was 6 feet long, 4 inches wide, and was wrought from end to end with the symbols of tribes and villages, 47 in number, which were leagued with him.
In addition to becoming conventional the designs in wampum, perhaps from expertness in their workmanship, exhibited ideographs in their later development, of which the following description, taken from Rev. Peter Jones’s (a), “History of the Ojebway Indians” is an instance:
Johnson then explained the emblems contained in the wampum belt brought by Yellowhead, which, he said, they acknowledged to be the acts of their fathers. Firstly, the council fire at the Sault Ste. Marie has no emblem, because then the council was held. Secondly, the council fire at Mamtoulni has the emblem of a beautiful white fish; this signifies purity, or a clean white heart—that all our hearts ought to be white toward each other. Thirdly, the emblem of a beaver, placed at an island on Penetanguishew bay, denotes wisdom—that all the acts of our fathers were done in wisdom. Fourthly, the emblem of a white deer, placed at Lake Simcoe, signified superiority; the dish and ladles at the same place indicated abundance of game and food. Fifthly, the eagle perched on a tall pine tree at the Credit denotes watching, and swiftness in conveying messages. The eagle was to watch all the council fires between the Six Nations and the Ojebways, and being far-sighted, he might, in the event of anything happening, communicate the tidings to the distant tribes. Sixthly, the sun was hung up in the center of the belt to show that their acts were done in the face of the sun, by whom they swore that they would forever after observe the treaties made between the two parties.
In the same work, p. 119, is a description of a wampum belt that recorded the first treaty between the Ojibwa and the Six Nations of the Iroquois confederacy. It has the figure of a dish or bowl at its middle to represent that the Ojibwa and the Six Nations were all to eat out of the same dish, meaning, ideographically, that all the game in the region should be for their common use.
Mr. W. H. Holmes (c) gives an illustration of the well-known Penn wampum belt, reproduced here as Fig. 164, with remarks condensed as follows:
It is believed to be the original belt delivered by the Leni-Lenape sachems to William Penn at the celebrated treaty under the elm tree at Schackamaxon in 1682. Up to the year 1857 this belt remained in the keeping of the Penn family. In March, 1857, it was presented to the Pennsylvania Historical Society by Granville John Penn, a great-grandson of William Penn. Mr. Penn, in his speech on this occasion, states that there can be no doubt that this is the identical belt used at the treaty, and presents his views in the following language:
“In the first place, its dimensions are greater than of those used on more ordinary occasions, of which we have one still in our possession—this belt being composed of 18 strings of wampum, which is a proof that it was the record of some very important negotiation. In the next place, in the center of the belt, which is of white wampum, are delineated in dark-colored beads, in a rude, but graphic style, two figures—that of an Indian grasping with the hand of friendship the hand of a man evidently intended to be represented in the European costume wearing a hat, which can only be interpreted as having reference to the treaty of peace and friendship which was then concluded between William Penn and the Indians, and recorded by them in their own simple but descriptive mode of expressing their meaning by the employment of hieroglyphics.”
The Indian songs or, more accurately, chants, with which pictography is connected, have been preserved in their integrity by the use of pictured characters. They are in general connected with religious ceremonies, and are chiefly used in the initiation of neophytes to secret religious orders. Some of them, however, are used in social meetings or ceremonies of cult societies, though the distinction between social or any other general associations and those to be classified as religious is not easily defined. Religion was the real life of the tribes, permeating all their activities and institutions.
The words of these songs are invariable, even to the extent that by their use for generations many of them have become archaic and form no part of the colloquial language. Indeed, they are not always understood by the best of the shaman songsters, which fact recalls the oriental memorization of the Veda ritual through generations by the priests, who thus, without intent, preserved a language. The sounds were memorized, although the characters designating or, more correctly, recalling them, were not representations of sound, but of idea.
Practically, the words—or sounds, understood or not, which passed for words—as well as the notes, were memorized by the singers, and their memory, or that of the shaman, who acted as leader or conductor or precentor, was assisted by the charts. Exoteric interpretation of any ideographic and not merely conventional or purely arbitrary characters in the chart, which may be compared for indistinctness with the translated libretto of operas, may suggest the general subject-matter, perhaps the general course, of the chant, but can not indicate the exact words, or, indeed, any words, of the language chanted.
A simple mode of explaining the amount of symbolism necessarily contained in the charts of the order of songs is by likening them to the illustrated songs and ballads lately published in popular magazines, where every stanza has at least one appropriate illustration. Let it be supposed that the text was obliterated forever, indeed, the art of reading lost, the illustrations remaining, as also the memory to some persons of the words of the ballad. The illustrations, kept in their original order, would always supply the order of the stanzas and also the particular subject-matter of each particular stanza, and that subject-matter would be a reminder of the words. This is what the rolls of birchbark supply to the initiated Ojibwa. Schoolcraft pretended that there is intrinsic symbolism in the characters employed, which might imply that the words of the chants were rather interpretations of those characters than that the latter were reminders of the words. But only after the vocables of the actual songs and chants have been learned can the mnemonic characters be clearly understood. Doubtless the more ideographic and the less arbitrary the characters the more readily can they be learned and retained in the memory, and during the long period of the practical use of the mnemonic devices many exhibiting ideography and symbolism have been invented or selected.
The ceremonial songs represented pictorially in Pl. XVII, A, B, C, and D, were obtained from Ojibwa shamans at White Earth, Minnesota, by Dr. Hoffman, and pertain to the ceremony of initiating new members into the Midē' wiwin or Grand Medicine Society. The language, now omitted, differs to some extent from that now spoken. The songs and ritual are transmitted from generation to generation, and although an Indian who now receives admission into the society may compose his own songs for use in connection with his profession, he will not adopt the modern Ojibwa words, but employs the archaic whenever practicable. To change the ancient forms would cause loss of power in the charms which such songs are alleged to possess.
The translation of the songs was given by the Ojibwa singers, while the remarks in smaller type further elucidate the meaning of the phrases, as afterwards explained by the shaman.
The characters were all drawn upon birch bark, as is usual with the “medicine songs” of the Ojibwa, and the words suggested by the incisions were chanted. The incompleteness of some of the phrases was accounted for by the shaman by the fact that they are gradually being forgotten. The ceremonies are now of infrequent occurrence, which tends to substantiate this assertion.
One song, as presented on a single piece of birch bark, really consists of as many songs as there are mnemonic characters. Each phrase, corresponding to a character, is repeated a number of times; the greater the number of repetitions the greater will be the power of inspiration in the singer. One song or phrase may, therefore, extend over a period of from two to ten or more minutes.
The song covers much more time when dancing accompanies it, as is the case with the first one presented below. The dancing generally commences after a pause, designated by a single vertical bar.
The following characters are taken from A, Pl. XVII, and are here reproduced separately to facilitate explanation:
The earth, spirit that I am, I take medicine out of the earth.
The upper figure represents the arm reaching down toward the earth, searching for hidden remedies.
(Because of) a spirit that I am, my son.
The headless human figure emerging from the circle is a mysterious being, representing the power possessed by the speaker. He addresses a younger and less experienced Midē' or shaman.
Bar or rest.
The vertical line denotes a slight pause in the song, after which the chant is renewed, accompanied by dancing.
They have pity on me, that is why they call us to the Grand Medicine.
The inner circle represents the speaker’s heart; the outer circle, the gathering place for shamans, while the short lines indicate the directions from which the shamans come together.
I want to see you, medicine man.
The figure of a head is represented with lines running downward (and forward) from the eyes, donating sight. The speaker is looking for the shaman, spoken to, to make his appearance within the sacred structure where the Midē' ceremonies are to take place.
My body is a spirit.
The character is intended to represent the body of a bear, with a line across the body, signifying one of the most powerful of the sacred Man'idōs or spirits, of the Midē' wiwin or “Grand Medicine Society.”
You would [know] it, it being a spirit.
The figure of a head is shown with lines extending both upward and downward from the ears, denoting a knowledge of things in realm of the Man'idōs above, and of the secrets of the earth beneath.
As I am dressed, I am.
The otter is emerging from the sacred Midē' inclosure; the otter typifies the sacred Man'idō who received instruction for the people from Mi'nabō'zho, the intermediary between the “Great Spirit” and the Ânîshinâbeg.
That is what ails me, I fear my Midē' brothers.
The arm reaching into a circle denotes the power of obtaining mysterious influence from Kítschi Man'idō, but the relation between the pictograph and the phrase is obscure; unless the speaker fears such power as possessed by others.
The following is the order of another Midē' song. The general style of the original resembles the specific class of songs which are used when digging medicines, i. e., plants or roots. The song is shown in Pl. XVII, B as the character appears on the bark.
As I arise from [slumber].
The speaker is shown as emerging from a double circle, his sleeping place.
What have I unearthed?
The speaker has discovered a bear Man'idō, as shown by the two hands grasping that animal by the back.
Down is the bear.
The bear is said to have his legs cut off, by the outline of the Midē' structure, signifying he has become helpless because he is under the influence of the shamans.
Big, I am big.
The speaker is great in his own estimation; his power of obtaining gifts from superior beings is shown by the arm reaching for an object received from above; he has furthermore overcome the bear Man'idō and can employ it to advantage.
You encourage me.
Two arms are shown extended toward a circle containing spots of mī'gis, or sacred shells. The arms represent the assistance of friends of the speaker encouraging him with their assistance.
I can alight in the medicine pole.
The eagle or thunder-bird is perched upon the medicine pole erected near the shamans’ sacred structure. The speaker professes to have the power of flight equal to the thunder-bird, that he may transport himself to any desired locality.
The following is another example of a pictured Midē' song, and is represented in Pl. XVII, C.
I know you are a spirit.
The figure is represented as having waving lines extending from the eyes downward toward the earth, and indicating search for secrets hidden beneath the surface of the earth. The hands extending upward indicate the person claims supernatural powers by which he is recognized as “equal to a spirit.”
I lied to my son.
The signification of the phrase could not be explained by the informant, especially its relation to the character, which is an arm, reaching beyond the sky for power from Ki'tshi Man'idō. The waving line upon the arm denotes mysterious power.
Spirit I am, the wolf.
The speaker terms himself a wolf spirit, possessing peculiar power. The animal as drawn has a line across the body signifying its spirit character.
At last I become a spirit.
The circle denotes the spot occupied by the speaker; his hands extended are directed toward the source of his powers.
I give you the mī'gis.
The upper character represents the arm reaching down giving a sacred shell, the mī'gis, the sacred emblem of the “Grand Medicine Society.” The “giving of the mī'gis” signifies its “being shot” into the body of a new member of the society to give him life and the power of communing with spirits, or Man'idōs.
You are speaking to me.
An arm is extended toward a circle containing a smaller one, the latter representing the spot occupied by Midē' friends.
The characters next explained are taken from the last line, D, of the series given in Pl. XVII. The speaker appears to have great faith in his own powers as a Midē'.
Spirit I am, I enter.
The otter, which Man'idō, the speaker, professes to represent, is entering the sacred structure of Midē' lodge.
Midē' friends, do you hear me?
The circles denote the locality where the Midē' are supposed to be congregated. The waving lines signify hearing, when, as in this case, attached to the ears.
The first time I heard you.
The speaker asserts that he heard the voices of the Man'idōs when he went through his first initiation into the society. He is still represented as the otter.
The spirit, he does hear (?)
The interpretation is vague, but could not be otherwise explained. The lines from the ears denote hearing.
They, the Midē' friends, have paid enough.
The arm in the attitude of giving, to Ki'tshi Man'idō, signifies that the Midē' have made presents of sufficient value to be enabled to possess the secrets, which they received in return.
They have pity on me, the chief Midē'.
The arms of Ki'tshi Man'idō are extended to the Midē' lodge, giving assistance as besought.
The song mnemonically represented in Pl. XVIII A (reproduced from Pl. X A. of the Seventh Ann. Rep. Bur. of Ethn.) is sung by the Ojibwa preceptor who has been instructing the candidate for initiation. It praises the preceptor’s efforts and the character of the knowledge he has imparted. Its delivery is made to extend over as much time as possible.
The mnemonic characters were drawn by Sikas'sigĕ, and are a copy of an old birchbark scroll, which has for many years been in his possession, and which was a transcript of one in the possession of his father Baiédzĭk, one of the leading Midē' at Mille Lacs, Minnesota.
My arm is almost pulled out with digging medicine. It is full of medicine.
The short zigzag lines signifying magic influence, erroneously designated “medicine.”
Almost crying because the medicine is lost.
The lines extending downward from the eye signify weeping; the circle beneath the figure, the place where the “medicine” is supposed to exist. The idea of “lost” signifies that some information has been forgotten through death of those who possessed it.
Yes, there is much medicine you may cry for.
Refers to that which is yet to be taught.
Yes, I see there is plenty of it.
The Midē' has knowledge of more than he has imparted, but reserves that knowledge for a future time. The lines of “sight” run to various medicines which he perceives or knows of.
Rest.
When I come out the sky becomes clear.
When the otter-skin Midē' sack is produced the sky becomes clear, so that the ceremonies may proceed.
The spirit has given me power to see.
The Midē' sits on a mountain the better to commune with the good Man'idō.
I brought the medicine to bring life.
The Midē' Man'idō, the Thunderer, after bringing some of the plants—by causing the rains to fall—returns to the sky. The short line represents part of the circular line usually employed to designate the imaginary vault of the sky.
I too, see how much there is.
His power elevates the Midē' to the rank of a Man'idō, from whose position he perceives many secrets hidden in the earth.
I am going to the medicine lodge.
The vertical, left-hand figure denotes a leg going toward the Midē'wigân.
I take life from the sky.
The Midē' is enabled to reach into the sky and to obtain from Ki'tshi Man'idō' the means of prolonging life. The circle at the top denotes the sacred migis or shell.
Let us talk to one another.
The circles denote the places of the speaker (Midē') and the hearer (Ki'tshi Man'idō), the short lines signifying magic influences, the Midē' occupying the left hand and smaller seat.
The spirit is in my body, my friend.
The mī'gis, given by Ki'tshi Man'idō, is in contact with the Midē'’s body, and he is possessed of life and power.
In the order of song, Pl. XVIII, B, reproduced from Pl. IX, C, of the Seventh Ann. Rep. of the Bureau of Ethnology, the preceptor appears to feel satisfied that the candidate is prepared to receive the initiation, and therefore tells him that the Midē' Man'idō announces to him the assurance. The preceptor therefore encourages his pupil with promises of the fulfillment of his highest desires: