Untitled - Smithsonian Institution

MOONEY
X-rnTs] THE SWIMMER MANUSCRIPT Hi
An iiic()iTip;iblo joster, a sido-splittinf>; joker, Jiid. is tho most porfect
nnthropojnorphizcd trickster you conkl ijiiagiue. Oiieo as i was
trying to reconstitute the Cherokee rabbit cycle, and was mobili/Jng
all tho available sources of information, Jud. came on one of his
numerous visits. Brimful of the interesting subject, I asked him
eagerly what ho knew of the rabl)i(,? He concentrated his thoughts
on the subject, shifted his weight, looked at tho ceiling, spat on tho
floor, and then, as I turned a keen face up from niy notebook, ho
drawled: "All I know about tho rabbit is how to eat it."
What an enormous asset this jocular disposition may be to flit
through life sjiiiling and contented, it is less desired in a ni(>dicine
man. Yet, in spite of his stingy wife's protests, and unheeding tho
jokes and taunts of the people, Jud. goes about his plans, collecting
bits of knowledge and scraps of information wherever he can, buying
expensive documents, which ho can neither read nor interpret. When
he afterwards calls in tho aid of a medicine man—whom he has to
pay—to find out what his latest ac(iuisition is all about, he learns
that it is incomplete, that tho "directions" are missing, or that it is
worthless on account of some other defect. The whole settlement
hears about it and roars, but th(5 loudest peal of laughter comes
from Jud. Somehow, ho considers it a capital joke, and he could
not for a moment entertain tho idea that the joke is on him.
Since Jud. was politely kicked out of the door by all tho members
of the profession, I had the questionable privilege of being honored
with his visit daily at first, and slightly less frequently afterwards,
lie proved second to none as far as keenness to discuss the subject
was concerned. Alas, his ignorance was so manifest that tho exchange
of ideas proved not profitable.
There arc some more medicine men with whom work was done, but
they belonged to what may be called an undergraduate class, both
as regards professional accomplishments and individuality.
Ts. (pi. 8, a), widower, 73 years old, and J. (pi. 11, a), his son
(died 1928, 47 years old), wore both very charming individuals, but
had a rather narrow conception of things. They looked upon their
occupation as a job or* a trade rather than as an art or a profession
to dispose of his "fee" (see p. 95 et seq.;also Mooney, SFC, p. 338)
was as important and as awkward a problcni for J. as to cure a patient.
If the other medicine men were worthy professors, these were mere
Sunday-school teachers.
Del. (pi. 11, b), 51 3'^ears old, married, could, if he had chosen,
have become a bright star in the Cherokee medical (constellation.
Only slightly less intelligent than Og., he is even inore retiring and
shy than his uncle was. He is a well-providing father for his family,
and considers the medicine man's profession too unstable and precarious
to support his household. I am inclined to believe, more-
;