resides, is considered to neutralize all the effects of the doctor's
treatment. For this reason all women, excepting those of the household, are
excluded. A man is forbidden to enter, because he may have had intercourse with
a tabued woman, or may have come in contact with her in some other way; and
children also are shut out, because they may have come from a cabin where
dwells a woman subject to exclusion. What is supposed to be the effect of the
presence of a menstrual woman in the family of the patient is not clear; but
judging from analogous customs in other tribes and from rules still enforced
among the Cherokees, notwithstanding their long contact with the whites, it
seems probable that in former times the patient was removed to a smaller house
or temporary bark lodge built for his accommodation whenever the tabu as to
women was prescribed by the doctor. Some of the old men assert that in former
times sick persons were removed to the public townhouse, where they remained
under the care of the doctors until they either recovered or died. A curious
instance of this prohibition is given in the second Didūnlė'skļ
(rheumatism) formula from the Gahuni manuscript (see page 350), where the
patient is required to abstain from touching a squirrel, a dog, a cat, a
mountain trout, or a woman, and must also have a chair appropriated to his use
alone during the four days that he is under treatment.
In cases of the children's disease known as Gūnwani'gista'ļ (see
formulas) it is forbidden to carry the child outdoors, but this is not to
procure rest for the little one, or to guard against exposure to cold air, but
because the birds send this disease, and should a bird chance to be flying by
overhead at the moment the flapping of its wings would fan the disease back
into the body of the patient.
ILLUSTRATION OF THE TABU.
On a second visit to the reservation the writer once had a practical
illustration of the gaktū'nata or tabu, which may be of interest as
showing how little sanitary ideas have to do with these precautions. Having
received several urgent invitations from Tsiskwa (Bird), an old shaman of
considerable repute, who was anxious to talk, but confined to his bed by
sickness, it was determined to visit him at his house, several miles distant.
On arriving we found another doctor named Sū'nkļ (The Mink) in
charge of the patient and were told that he had just that morning begun a four
days' gaktūnta, which, among other provisions, excluded all
visitors. It was of no use to argue that we had come by the express request of
Tsiskwa. The laws of the gaktūnta were as immutable as those of the
Medes and Persians, and neither doctor nor patient could hope for favorable
results from the treatment unless the regulations were enforced to the letter.
But although we might not enter the house; there was no reason why we should
not talk to the old man, so seats were placed for us outside the door, while
Tsiskwa lay stretched out on
{p. 382}
the bed just inside and The Mink perched himself on the
fence a few yards distant to keep an eye on the proceedings. As there was a
possibility that a white man might unconsciously affect the operation of the
Indian medicine, the writer deemed it advisable to keep out of sight
altogether, and accordingly took up a position just around the corner