In every camp there are several doctors, both men and women, called by them divining men, who have the double reputation of physicians and sorcerers. This is generally some old wretch who is very ugly, of great experience, and who has art enough to induce others to believe in his knowledge, and can drum, sing, and act his part well.
The present great doctor and soothsayer is named “Bull’s Dry Bones,” a very old man who is now with me. This man was once sick and died while the camp was traveling. His friends packed and tied him up in several envelopes of raw hides, blankets, etc., and, after duly crying over him, placed the body in the fork of a tree as is their custom. By some means, however, the man came to life and after great difficulty worked himself out of his bonds, traveled and overtook the camp some days after they had left him. He stated to them that during his decease he had been in other worlds, seen much, knew everything, past, present, and future, and from this circumstance he has ever after been considered a great divining man and prophet. We will now state how they proceed in case of sickness. A child falls sick. The father or some other near relative immediately sends a gun or a horse to the divining man to secure his services. Sometimes smaller articles are sent, and the doctor, thinking them beneath his notice, will not pay a visit until enough is offered, which amount varies in proportion as the patient’s relatives are rich or poor. He then enters the lodge of the sick person in his medical capacity. His instruments are a drum, a chi-chi-quoin, or gourd rattle, and, perhaps, a horn cupping apparatus. He must have (although not perceptible) some things concealed in his mouth or about his person, as will presently appear, although they go usually through their operations entirely naked (except the breechcloth) and not in a hideous costume as has been represented. The doctor is accompanied by five or six others as old and ugly as himself, bearing drums, bells, rattles, and other noisy instruments.
All sing to the extent of their voices and make a terrible noise with the instruments spoken of. The doctor slowly approaches the patient, applying his mouth to his naked breast or belly, draws or appears to draw therefrom by suction a worm, sometimes a bug, a wolf hair, or even a small snake, making at the same time horrible gestures, grunts, and grimaces. This object he displays to the lookers-on, stating he has extracted the cause of the disease. This operation is repeated several times with like results, and after he and the accompanying band of music partake largely of a dog or other feast provided for them they leave for the time. The whole performance, with the music, incantations, preparations, and feast included, would occupy perhaps from two to three hours and often the whole night, if the performers are paid high. Frequently their diseases are colic from eating unripe fruits and berries or overloading the stomach, which, of course, get well in a short time and the credit is given to the doctor, each recovery aiding to raise his reputation and enlarge his practice. But if the case is serious and the patient gets worse, the doctor is then paid again and another visit takes place. The forms are always somewhat similar, but on this occasion, in addition to the full band of music and cupping with the horn, besides the usual grimaces, noises, etc., the patient is made to drink decoctions of roots or powders made by the doctors of pulverized roots, rattles of the rattlesnake, calcined bones, etc., the properties of which he is entirely ignorant, and probably the smallness of the dose preventing them from doing any harm. This, with the noise of the instruments and feast, concludes the second visit.
