Shamanism in Siberia

[Excerpts from]

ABORIGINAL SIBERIA

A STUDY IN

SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY

BY

M. A. CZAPLICKA

SOMERVILLE COLLEGE, OXFORD

WITH A PREFACE BY

R. R. MARETT

READER IN SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

PRESIDENT OF THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

1914

PART III. RELIGION

CHAPTER VII

SHAMANISM [1]

SHAMANISM is understood by some people to be a primitive form of religion or religio-magic practised by the aborigines of northern Asia as well as by all other aborigines in other parts of the world. This opinion is held by Mikhailowski, Kharuzin, and some other Russian scientists. Others hold that Shamanism was only one form of expression of the religious cult of northern Asia, practised in order to avert the evil spirits. This opinion is found in the writings of Jochelson and Bogoras. There is still another view put forward, which it is well for us to consider. This view we find expressed very clearly in the following extract from Klementz:

'One must not lose sight of the fact that in the various beliefs of the Siberian tribes a very close connexion is noticeable, and, likewise, there can be observed an uninterrupted identity in the foundations of their mythology, and in their rites, even extending as far as the nomenclature-all of which gives one the right to suppose that these beliefs are the result of the joint work of the intellectual activity of the whole north of Asia.'[2]

In the writings of the Buryat scientist Banzaroff we find a very similar statement: 'The old national religion of the Mongols and the neighbouring nations is known in Europe as "Shamanism", whereas among those who are not its followers it has no special name.

'After the introduction of Buddhism among the Mongolic nations, they called their old religion "The Black Faith" (Khara Shadjin), in contradistinction to Buddhism, which they called "Yellow Faith" (Shira Shadjin). According to Father Jakiuv, the Chinese call Shamanism Tao-Shen (gambolling before the spirits).

Those names, however, do not give any idea of the true character of shamanism. Some are of opinion that it originated alongside with Brahminism and Buddhism, while others find in it some elements in common with the teachings of the Chinese philosopher Lao-Tze. . . . Finally some hold that Shamanism is nothing but Nature-worship, likening it to the faith of the followers of Zoroaster. Careful study of the subject shows that the Shamanistic religion … did not arise out of Buddhism or any other religion, but originated among the Mongolic nations, and consists not only in superstitious and shamanistic ceremonies . . ., but in a certain primitive way of observing the outer world-Nature-and the inner world-the soul.'[1]

Of course, Banzaroff speaks especially of the Shamanism of the Mongols. We cannot agree with him that Shamanism is limited to these people. We find it all over northern and part of central Asia.

As we see them now the Palaeo-Siberians may be considered as possessing the simplest, and the Neo-Siberians the most complex, form of Shamanism. Thus among the former we see more 'Family' than 'Professional' Shamanism; that is, the ceremonials, beliefs, and shamans are practically limited to the family. Professional Shamanism, that is, ceremonies of a communal kind performed by a specialized or professional shaman, is here only in its infancy, and, being weaker, has been more affected by Christianity.

Among the Neo-Siberians, where professional Shamanism is strongly developed (for example, the Yakut), family Shamanism has been more affected by European influences. We cannot, however, argue from this that the Palaeo-Siberian form is the more primitive. Professional Shamanism may be a development of family Shamanism, or it may be a degenerate form, where environment is such that communal life is no longer possible.

That the dissimilarity between the Shamanism of the Palaeo and Neo-Siberians is no doubt due to the differences in the geographical conditions of northern and southern Siberia seems to be proved by the result of a careful study of certain Neo-Siberian tribes (Yakut) who migrated to the north, and of certain Palaeo-Siberians (Gilyak) who migrated to the south. The ease with which they absorbed the customs and beliefs appertaining to

their new surroundings shows that there was no fundamental difference between their shamanistic practices. The differences, being due to environment, disappear in migration. It cannot be said that the change is due to contact, since this, in many cases, is very slight. Indeed, Shamanism seems to be such a natural product of the Continental climate with its extremes of cold and heat, of the violent burgas and burans, [1] of the hunger and fear which attend the long winters, that not only the Palaeo-Siberians and the more highly cultivated Neo-Siberians, but even Europeans, have sometimes fallen under the influence of certain shamanistic superstitions. Such is the case with the Russian peasants and officials who settle in Siberia, and with the Russian Creoles.[2].

According to the official census, only a small part of the aborigines are 'true Shamanists', but, as a matter of fact, we see that though they are registered as Orthodox Catholics and Buddhists, they are in reality nearly all faithful to the practice of their old religion.

In psychological terminology, Shamanism consists of animistic and preanimistic conceptions; although most of the people at present engaged in research work on Siberia have been so much influenced by the Tylor theory of Animism that they misuse the word 'soul', and the phenomena that they describe as animistic are very often in a different category altogether.

The reader must decide for himself whether Shamanism appeals to him as a cult peculiar to this region, or whether it is part of a very general primitive magico-religion. It appears to the author personally to be as difficult to speak in general terms of primitive religions as it would be to speak of Christian religious. This might be the task of a separate work-to determine whether Shamanism in its conception of the deities, nature, man, and in its rites, forms a special 'sect ' in the Animistic Religion.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SHAMAN

As among all primitive religions, the róle of the priest, as the repository of religious beliefs and traditions, is of the greatest importance; therefore we shall first proceed to the study of the shaman himself.

The organization of the shamanhood varies slightly in different tribes. In some cases this office is hereditary, but everywhere the supernatural gift is a necessary qualification for becoming a shaman. As we should expect from the generally higher culture of the Neo-Siberians, their shamanhood is more highly organized than that of the Palaeo-Siberians. The family shamans predominate among the Palaeo-Siberians, and the professional shamans among the Neo-Siberians, though Bogoras says: 'In modern times the importance of family shamanism is losing ground among all the tribes named, with the exception of the Chukchee, and there is a tendency to its being replaced on all occasions by individual shamanism.' These individual or professional shamans are called among the Chukchee 'those with spirit' (enenilit), from enen, 'shamanistic spirit'.[1]

Although hysteria (called by some writers 'Arctic hysteria') lies at the bottom of the shaman's vocation, yet at the same time the shaman differs from an ordinary patient suffering from this illness in possessing an extremely great power of mastering himself in the periods between the actual fits, which occur during the ceremonies. 'A good shaman ought to possess many unusual qualities,[2] but the chief is the power, acquired by tact and knowledge,

to influence the people round him.'[1] His reserved attitude has undoubtedly a great influence on the people among whom he lives. He must know how and when to have his fit of inspiration, which sometimes rises to frenzy, and also how to preserve his high 'tabooed' attitude in his daily life.'

In speaking of the shaman's vocation, we do not include the family shaman of the Koryak, Asiatic Eskimo, Chukchee, and Yukaghir, whose position and capacity are rather vague, as we see from the following description of his duties: 'Each family has one or more drums of its own, on which its members are bound to perform at specific periods: that is, to accompany the beating of the drum with the singing of various melodies. Almost always on these occasions one member at least of the family tries to communicate with "spirits" after the manner of shamans.'[3] Sometimes he even tries to foretell the future, but he receives no attention from his audience. This is done in the outer room and in daylight, whereas the 'shaman's', or professional shaman's, actions are performed in the inner room and at night.

'Besides this, every adult Chukchee will occasionally take his drum, especially in the winter, and beat it for awhile in the warm shelter of the sleeping-room, with the light or without it, singing his melodies to the rhythm of the beats.'[4]

We see from the above that one member of the family has the duty of beating the drum during certain ceremonials, and amuses himself sometimes by shamanizing just as he amuses himself by beating the drum at any time, apart from ceremonials. Of course, we cannot call this member of the family a shaman, but a master of the ceremonies, &c., who imitates the shaman; we can call shamans only those individuals having special skill and vocation, whether or not they are shamans by heredity.

However, the same Koryak, Asiatic Eskimo, Chukchee, Yukaghir, &c.-practically all the Palaeo-Siberians-possess the professional shaman, sometimes in decadence,[5] but still there is no

doubt of his existence. Krasheninnikoff[1] who travelled through the land of the Kamchadal in the middle of the eighteenth century, says that 'among the Kamchadal there is only one great annual ceremony, in November, and the chief róles at this ceremony belonged to old men'.

The same author says: 'Among the Kamchadal there are no special shamans, as among other nations, but every old woman and koekchuch (probably women in men's clothes) is a witch, and explains dreams.' [2]

From this meagre information we can scarcely decide whether among the Kamchadal of the time of Krasheninnikoff there was or not a family shaman, because as the old men played the róle not at ceremonials in separate families, but at communal ceremonies, we must rather call them communal shamans. But there was some form of professional shamanism, though not specialized, since every old woman could shamanize. On the other hand, the following quotation shows that there were certain qualifications necessary for the shaman:

'The female sex is nicer [3] and probably cleverer, therefore there are more women and koekchuch among the shamans than there are men.'[4]

Thus Krasheninnikoff. Jochelson says: 'Both Steller and Krasheninnikoff assert that the Kamchadal had no professional shamans, but that every one could exercise that art, especially women and Koekehuch; that there was no special shaman garb; that they used no drum, but simply pronounced incantations and practised divination (Krasheninnikoff, iii. p. 114; Steller, p. 277), which description appears more like the family shamanism of the present day. It is impossible that the Kamchadal should form an exception among the rest of the Asiatic and American tribes in having had no professional shamans.'

In support of Jochelson's opinion just quoted, it may be said that, in spite of Krasheninnikoff's statement to the contrary, professional shamanism does seem to have existed, at least in germ, among the Kamchadal, alongside of the communal shamanism

which was in the hands of the old men. This appears clear from Krasheninnikoff's own words quoted above. That those who could shamanize most effectually were women, 'nice and clever', points to the fact that some sort of standard was already set up for those who aspired to be special practitioners of this extra-communal shamanism, and that women most nearly approached this ideal.

A. THE SHAMAN'S VOCATION.

Whether his calling be hereditary or not, a shaman must be a capable-nay, an inspired person. Of course, this is practically the same thing as saying that he is nervous and excitable, often to the verge of insanity. So long as he practises his vocation, however, the shaman never passes this verge. It often happens that before entering the calling persons have had serious nervous affections.[1] Thus a Chukchee female shaman, Telpina, according to her own statement, had been violently insane for three years, during which time her household had taken precautions that she should do no harm to the people or to herself.[2]

'I was told that people about to become shamans have fits of wild paroxysms alternating with a condition of complete exhaustion. They will lie motionless for two or three days without partaking of food or drink. Finally they retire to the wilderness, where they spend their time enduring hunger and cold in order to prepare themselves for their calling.'[3]

To be called to become a shaman is generally equivalent to being afflicted with hysteria; then the accepting of the call means recovery. 'There are cases of young persons who, having suffered for years from lingering illness (usually of a nervous character), at last feel a call to take up shamanistic practice and by this means overcome the disease.'[4]

To the believer the acceptance of the call means accepting several spirits, or at least one, as protectors or servants, by which means the shaman enters into communication with the whole spirit world. The shamanistic call sometimes manifests itself through some animal, plant, or other natural object, which the

person comes upon at the 'right time', i.e. when very young, often in the critical period between childhood and maturity (or else when a person more advanced in age is afflicted with mental or physical troubles). 'Sometimes it is an inner voice, which bids the person enter into intercourse with the "spirits". If the person is dilatory in obeying, the calling spirit soon appears in some outward visible shape, and communicates the call in a more explicit way.' Ainanwat after an illness saw several 'spirits', but did not pay much attention to them; then one 'spirit' came, whom Ainanwat liked and invited to stay. But the 'spirit' said he would stay only on the condition that Ainanwat should become a shaman. Ainanwat refused, and the 'spirit' vanished.'

Here is an account by a Yakut-Tungus shaman, Tiuspiut ('fallen-from-the-sky'), of how he became a shaman: [2]

'When I was twenty years old, I became very ill and began "to see with my eyes, to hear with my ears" that which others did not see or hear; nine years I struggled with myself, and I did not tell any one what was happening to me, as I was afraid that people would not believe me and would make fun of me. At last I became so seriously ill that I was on the verge of death; but when I started to shamanize I grew better; and even now when I do not shamanize for a long time I am liable to be ill.'

Sieroszewski tells us that Tiuspiut was sixty years of age; he hid his shamanistic gift nine years, and had been shamanizing thirty-one years when Sieroszewski met him. He was a man of medium size, thin, but muscular, with signs of former beauty. In spite of his age he could shamanize and dance the whole night. He was an experienced man, and travelled a great deal both in the south and in the north. During the shamanistic ceremonies his eyes had a strange expression of madness, and a pertinacious stare, which provoked to anger and excitement those on whom his look rested.

'This is the second shaman with such strange eyes whom I have met in the district of Yakut. Generally in the features of a shaman there is something peculiar which enabled me, after a short experience, to distinguish them from the other folk present.'[3]

A similar statement is made about the Chukchee shamans by Bogoras: 'The eyes of a shaman have a look different from that

[1 Bogoras, op. cit.

2 Sieroszewski, 12 Lat w Kraju Yakutów, p. 396. Ibid.]

of other people, and they explain it by the assertion that the eyes of the shaman are very bright (nikeraqen), which, by the way, gives them the ability to see "spirits" even in the dark. It is certainly a fact that the expression of a shaman is peculiar-a combination of cunning and shyness; and it is often possible to pick him out from among many others.'[1]

'The Chukchee are well aware of the extreme nervousness of their shamans, and express it by the word ninirkilqin, "he is bashful". By this word they mean to convey the idea that the shaman is highly sensitive, even to the slightest change of the psychic atmosphere surrounding him during his exercises.'

'The Chukchee shaman is diffident in acting before strangers, especially shortly after his initiation. A shaman of great power will refuse to show his skill when among strangers, and will yield only after much solicitation: even then, as a rule, he will not show all of his power.' [2] 'Once when I induced a shaman to practise at my house his "spirits" (of a ventriloquistic kind) for a long time refused to come. When at last they did come, they were heard walking round the house outside and knocking on its walls, as if still undecided whether to enter. When they entered, they kept near to the comers, carefully avoiding too close proximity to those present.'

The shamanistic call comes sometimes to people more advanced in years:

'To people of more mature age the shamanistic call may come during some great misfortune, dangerous and protracted illness, sudden loss of family or property,' &c. 'It is generally considered that in such cases a favourable issue is possible only with the aid of the "spirits", therefore a man who has undergone some extraordinary trial in his life is considered as having within himself. the possibilities of a shaman, and he often feels bound to enter into closer relations with the "spirits", lest he incur their displeasure at his negligence and lack of gratitude."

Katek, from the village of Unisak at Indian Point, entered into relations with the 'spirits' when he was of mature age, during a terrible adventure he had while hunting seal.

He was carried away on the piece of ice on which he was standing, and only after a long time of drifting came upon an iceberg, on to which he climbed. But before he encountered

the iceberg, he had tried to kill himself with his belt-knife, when a large walrus-head suddenly appeared out of the water quite close to him and sang: 'O Katek, do not kill yourself! You shall again see the mountains of Unisak and the little Kuwakak, your elder son.' When Katek came back home he made a sacrifice to the walrus-head, and from that time on he was a shaman, much respected and very famous among his neighbours.[1]

However, very old people are not supposed to hear the shamanistic call. In a Koryak tale,[2] when Quikinnaqu (who had already a grown-up daughter) unexpectedly makes for himself a drum out of a small louse, and becomes a shaman, his neighbours say sceptically: 'Has the old Quikinnaqu really become a shaman? From his youth up he had no spirits within his call.'

But young people when they get into trouble also call for the help of 'spirits'; when the latter come to them, such youths also frequently become shamans.

'A man, Yetilin by name, who belonged by birth to an Arctic maritime village, but afterwards married into a reindeer-breeding family on the Dry Anui River, and joined its camp, told me that in his early childhood his family perished from a contagious disease (probably influenza), and he was left alone with his small sister. Then he called to the "spirits". They came and brought food and said to him: "Yetilin, take to beating the drum! We will assist you in that also."'[3]

The Chukchee tales contain accounts of poor and despised orphans, who were protected by 'spirits', and turned into shamans.

The vocation of the shaman is attended with considerable danger: 'The slightest lack of harmony between the acts of the shamans and the mysterious call of their "spirits" brings their life to an end. This is expressed by the Chukchee, when they say that "spirits" are very bad-tempered, and punish with immediate death the slightest disobedience of the shaman, and that this is particularly so when the shaman is slow to carry out those orders which are intended to single him out from other people.' [4]

We have similar statements from the more advanced tribes. 'The duties undertaken by the shaman are not easy; the struggle which he has to carry on is dangerous. There exist traditions

about shamans who were carried away still living from the earth to the sky, about others killed by "spirits", or struck down at their first meeting with the powers whom they dared to call upon. The wizard who decides to carry on this struggle has not only material gain in view, but also the alleviation of the griefs of his fellow men; the wizard who has the vocation, the faith, and the conviction, who undertakes his duty with ecstasy and negligence of personal danger, inspired by the high ideal of sacrifice, such a wizard always exerts an enormous influence upon his audience. After having once or twice seen such a real shaman, I understood the distinction that the natives draw between the "Great", "Middling", and "Mocking" or deceitful shamans.'[1] Although exposed to danger from supernatural powers, the shaman is supposed to be safer from human anger than any other person.

One Chukchee tale says: 'She [the murderer] came to her neighbour, a woman who was busy with her fireboard, trying to make a fire. She stabbed her from behind. But the girl continued to work on the fire, because she was a shaman-girl, a woman able to stab herself [in a shamanistic performance]. Therefore she could not kill her, but only severed the tendons of her arms and legs.' [2]

A man who can pierce himself through with a knife, so that its end shows at his back,[3] or cut his head off, put it on a stick, and dance round the yurta,[4] is surely strengthened sufficiently against an enemy's attacks. Yet the shaman, Scratching-Woman, when he refused to drink the alcohol offered to him by Bogoras, and which he had previously demanded, explained as follows: 'I will be frank with you. Drink really makes my temper too bad for anything. Usually my wife watches over me, and puts all knives out of my reach. But when we are apart, I am afraid.".[5]

On the whole, the shamans are very much attached to their vocation, in spite of the persecutions which they have to suffer from the Government. Tiuspiut was many times punished by the Russian officials and his shamanistic dress and drum were burned; but he returned to his duties after each of these incidents. 'we have to do it, we cannot leave off shamanizing,' he said to Sieroszewski, 'and there is no harm in our doing it.'

Another shaman, who was old and blind, affirmed that he had

been a shaman some time before, but after he became convinced that it was a sin he stopped shamanizing, and 'although another very powerful shaman took from him the "sign", ämägyat, still the spirits made him blind'.[1]

In the village Baigantai Sieroszewski met with another instance of a shaman who, however many times he vowed to abstain from shamanism, still returned to it when the occasion arose. He was a rich man, who did not care for gain, and he was so wonderful that 'his eyes used to jump out on his forehead' during shamanistic performances.

Tiuspiut was poor and cared for money, but he was proudly regardful of his reputation, and when some of his neighbours called in another shaman, one who lived farther away than Tiuspiut, he became quite offended.

Bogoras never met shamans among the Palaeo- Siberians who could be said 'to live solely on the profits of their art. It was only a source of additional income to them., [2]

Among the Tungus and Yakut the shaman is recompensed only when his arts are successful; and now, since Russian money has come into use, he receives from one to twenty-five roubles for a performance, and always gets plenty to eat besides.

The shamanistic call among the Tungus of Trans-Baikalia shows itself in the following manner: A dead shaman appears in a dream and summons the dreamer to become his successor. One who is to become a shaman appears shy, distrait, and is in a highly nervous condition.[3]

Similar instances are to be found in the records of all Siberian tribes.

As to the shamanistic office being hereditary, this is the case wherever a descendant of a shaman shows a disposition for the calling.

Among the Ostyak, the father himself chooses his successor, not necessarily according to age, but according to capacity; and to the chosen one he gives his own knowledge. If he has no children, he may pass on the office to a friend, or to an adopted child.[4]

The Ostyak shaman occasionally sells his familiar spirit to another shaman. After receiving payment, he divides his hair

into tresses, and fixes the time when the spirit is to pass to his new master. The spirit, having changed owners, makes his new possessor suffer; if the new shaman does not feel these effects, it is a sign that he is not becoming proficient in his office.[1]

Among both the Yakut and the Buryat, although the office is not necessarily hereditary, it is usually so in part; for it will generally happen that the shamanistic spirit passes from one to another of the same family.[2]

The Altaians believe that no one becomes a shaman of his own free will; rather it comes to him volens volens, like a hereditary disease. They say that sometimes when a young man feels premonitory symptoms of the call, he avoids shamans and shamanistic ceremonies, and by an effort of will occasionally cures himself. The period when the shamanistic call comes to the descendant of a shamanistic family is known as tes bazin-yat, 'the ancestor (spirit) leaps upon, strangles him'.[3]

B. THE SHAMAN'S PREPARATORY PERIOD.

I. Palaeo-Siberians.

The Chukchee. The Chukchee call the preparatory period of a shaman by a term signifying 'he gathers shamanistic power'. For the weaker shamans and for female shamans the preparatory period is less painful, and the inspiration comes mainly through dreams.

But for a strong man this stage is very painful and long; in some cases it lasts for one, two, or more years. Some young people are afraid to take a drum and call on the 'spirits', or to pick up stones or other objects which might prove to be amulets, for fear lest the 'spirit' should call them to be shamans. Some youths prefer death to obedience to the call of spirits.[4] Parents possessing only one child fear his entering this calling on account of the danger attached to it; but when the family is large, they like to have one of its members a shaman. During the time of preparation the shaman has to pass through both a mental and a physical training. He is, as a rule, segregated, and goes either to the forests and hills under the pretext of hunting or watching the herds, 'often without taking along any

arms or the lasso of the herdsman'[1]; or else he remains in the inner room the whole time. 'The young novice, the "newly inspired" (turene nitvillin), loses all interest in the ordinary affairs of life. He ceases to work, eats but little and without relishing his food, ceases to talk to people, and does not even answer their questions. The greater part of his time he spends in sleep.' This is why 'a wanderer . . . must be closely watched, otherwise he might lie down on the open tundra and sleep for three or four days, incurring the danger in winter of being buried in drifting snow. When coming to himself after such a long sleep, he imagines that he has been out for only a few hours, and generally is not conscious of having slept in the wilderness at all., [2]

However exaggerated this account of a long sleep may be, we learn from Bogoras that the Chukchee, when ill, sometimes 'fall into a heavy and protracted slumber, which may last many days, with only the necessary interruptions for physical needs'.[3]

The Koryak. The mental part of the training consists in coming into contact with the right spirits, i.e. with the spirits who are to be the shaman's protectors in his shamanistic practice. 'Every [Koryak] shaman', says Jochelson, 'has his own guardian spirits, who help him in his struggle with disease-inflicting kalau in his rivalry with other shamans, and also in attacks upon his enemies. The shaman spirits usually appear in the form of animals or birds. The most common guardian spirits are the wolf, the bear, the raven, the sea-gull, and the eagle.'[4] One of the two shamans whom Jochelson met among the Koryak related to him how the spirits of the wolf, raven, bear, sea-gull, and plover appeared to him (the shaman) in the desert-now in the form of men, now in that of animals-and commanded him to become a shaman, or to die. Thus we see that, while they are in solitude, 'the spirits appear to them in visible form, endow them with power, and instruct them.' But Bogoras describes the mental training of a new shaman differently. 'The process of gathering inspiration is so painful to young shamans, because of their mental struggle against the call, that they are sometimes said to sweat blood on the forehead and the temples. Afterwards every preparation of a shaman for a performance is considered a sort of repetition of the initiative process: hence it is said that the Chukchee shamans during that time are easily susceptible to haemorrhage, and even to bloody sweat.'[5]

Bogoras himself saw two cases of nose-bleeding and one of bloody sweat among the shamans; but in the last instance he suspected the shaman of smearing his temples with the blood from his nose.[1]

As to the physical training of a novice, he must learn singing, dancing, various tricks, including ventriloquism, and how to beat the drum.

'The beating of the drum, notwithstanding its seeming simplicity, requires some skill, and the novice must spend considerable time before he can, acquire the desired degree of perfection. This has reference especially to the performer's power of endurance. The same may be said of the singing. The manifestations continue for several weeks, during which time the shaman exercises the most violent activity with scarcely a pause. After the performance he must not show any signs of fatigue, because he is supposed to be sustained by the "spirits", and, moreover, the greater part of the exercise is asserted to be the work of the spirits themselves, either after entering the shaman's body or while outside his body. The amount of endurance required for all this, and the ability to pass quickly from the highest excitement to a state of normal quietude, can, of course, be acquired only by long practice. Indeed, all the shamans I conversed with said that they had to spend a year, or even two years, before sufficient strength of hand and freedom of voice were given to them by the spirits. Some asserted that, during all this preparatory time, they kept closely to the inner room, taking up the drum several times a day, and beating it as long as their strength would allow.'[2]

Of course a certain diet must be adhered to during the time of the training and before each individual ceremonial.

Have the novices any teachers? One would suppose that they must have, if only to learn the difficult magical tricks, but it is hard to get any detailed information on this point, because the natives ascribe all the cleverness of the shaman to the 'spirits'.

'There are many liars in our calling', the shaman Scratching Woman said to Bogoras.[3] 'One will lift up the skins of the sleeping-room with his right toe and then assure you that it was done by "spirits"; another will talk into the bosom of his shirt or through his sleeve, making the voice issue from a quite unusual place.' Of course he himself was ready to swear that he never did such tricks.

Sometimes the old men teach the young shamans. 'The man who gives a part of his power to another man loses correspondingly, and can hardly recover the loss afterwards. To transfer his power, the older shaman must blow on the eyes or into the mouth of the recipient, or he may stab himself with a knife, with the blade of which, still reeking with his "source of life" (telkeyun), he will immediately pierce the body of the recipient.'

Bogoras did not hear of any transferring of shamanistic power while he was among the Chukchee. He found it, however, among Eskimo women, who were taught by their husbands, and whose children were taught by their parents. In one family on St. Lawrence Island the shamanistic power has been retained through a succession of generations, evidently having been transferred from father to son.[1]

The Gilyak. Sternberg [2] says that although shamans do not play so important a róle among the Gilyak as among some neighbouring tribes, still their power among this folk is almost unlimited. Sternberg was told by a Gilyak shaman that before he had entered on his vocation he had been very ill for two months, during which time he was unconscious, lying quite motionless. Sometimes, he said, he almost regained consciousness, but sank again into a swoon before recovering his senses. 'I should have died', he explained, 'if I had not become a shaman.' During these months of trial he became 'as dry', he said, 'as a dry stick.' In the night he heard himself singing shaman's songs. Once there appeared to him a bird-spirit, and, standing at some distance from it, a man, who spoke to him in these words: 'Make yourself a drum and all that pertains to a shaman. Beat the drum and sing songs. If you are an ordinary man, nothing will come of it; but if you are to be a shaman, you will be no ordinary one.' When he came to himself he found that he was being held by head and feet close to the fire by his friends, who told him that they had thought him already dead, carried off by the evil spirits (kekhn). Forthwith he demanded a drum, and began to beat it and sing. He felt half dead, half intoxicated. Then for the first time he saw his spirit-protectors, kekhn and kenchkh. The former told him, 'If you see any one ill, cure him. Do not trust kenchkh. He has a man's face, but his body is a bird's. Trust us only.'

Sternberg himself was once witness of a first manifestation of shamanistic power.

Koïnit was a little guest of Sternberg's, a boy of twelve. In spite of his youth he had two souls, being the son of a great shaman, Chanikh, who had as many as four souls (one from the mountains, another from the sea, a third from the sky, and a fourth from the underworld). Once on being suddenly awakened from sleep, Koïnit began to throw himself about, and to shout aloud in different pitches or intonations of the voice, as shamans are accustomed to do. When this was over, the boy's face looked worn and tired, like that of an old man. He said afterwards that, during the sleep which had preceded his outbreak, two kekhns had appeared to him. He knew them for his father's kekhns; and they said to him: 'We used to play with your father-let us play with you also."

II. Neo-Siberians.

Passing from the Palaeo- to the Neo-Siberians, we notice that the shaman's protectors among the latter are highly developed beings.

Three kinds of 'spirits' are associated with a Yakut shaman, namely, änägyat, yekyua, and kaliany (Sieroszewski). Änägyat is the indispensable attribute of every shaman.

But änägyat is also the name of the iron breast-circle, the sign of the shaman's dignity.

Even the weakest shamans possess änägyat [2] and yekyua-the latter is 'sent from above, animal picture, bewitching spirit, devilish devourer' (Yekyua oïun abassyuah, simah abassyuah, üssüttan ongorudh).

The yekyua is carefully hidden from the people. 'My yekyua will not be found by any one; it lies hidden far away, there, in. the rocky mountains of Edjigan.'[3]

Once a year, when the snow melts and the earth is black, the yekyua arise from their hiding-places and begin to wander. They hold orgies of fights and noises, and the shamans with whom they are associated feel very ill. Especially harmful are the yekyua of female shamans.

The weakest and most cowardly are the yekyua of dogs; the most powerful are those of enormous bulls, stallions, elks, and black boars. 'Those shamans who have as their animal incarnation a wolf, bear, or dog, are the must unfortunate; these animals are insatiable; they are never satisfied, however much the shaman may provide for them.' The dog especially gives no peace to his two-footed fellow; he 'gnaws with his teeth the shaman's heart, tears into pieces his body'.[1] Then the shaman feels sick and suffers pain. The crow is also a bad yekyua; the eagle and hairy bull are called 'devilish fighters and warriors' (abassy keiktah). This title is the most flattering one for a shaman.[2] When a new shaman appears, the other shamans recognize him at once by the presence of a new yekyua, whom they have not seen before. Only wizards can see yekyua; to ordinary people they are invisible.

Troshchanski [3] says of the yekyua: 'Among the protectors of the shaman, the most important role is played by the yekyua (literally, "mother-animal"). It is said that the shamans incarnate their kut[4] in certain animals, e.g. in stallions, wolves, dogs, and that these animals are thus the yekyua of shamans.

'If one of these animals kills another of its species, then the corresponding shaman will die.' Troshshanski thinks that the shaman incarnates his kut only during the time that he is actually shamanizing.

Whereas this 'black' animal-protector seems to be of a totemic and personal nature, to a certain extent 'of one blood and flesh' with his protégé, on the other hand ämägyat strikes us as being a more impersonal power.

Sieroszewski [5] explains that it is in most cases 'the spirit of a deceased shaman', or, in some rare cases, one of the secondary heavenly beings. But it seems that the term 'spirit' is used here quite vaguely; e. g., we read further on: 'The human body cannot contain the power of great gods, and so the spirit-protector remains always near the beloved man (outside of him) and willingly comes at his call; in difficult moments it helps him, defends him, and gives him advice.'[6] 'The shaman sees and hears only through his ämägyat', says the shaman Tiuspiut.

Ämägyat comes to a shaman through an accident, or as a

heavenly destiny. 'When I was travelling in the north,' says Tiuspiut, 'I came upon a heap of wood (saïba) in the mountains, and as I just wanted to cook some dinner, I set this on fire. Now under this heap was buried a well-known Tungus shaman (Tiuspiut was a Yakut), and so his ämägyat leapt into me." If the great shamans at death take their (ämägyat to heaven, they are transformed into heavenly beings; but if the ämägyat is not removed to heaven, then it will appear on the earth sooner or later.[2]

Besides the two so-called spirits mentioned above, there comes to the Yakut shaman, during shamanistic performances, still another kind of spirit, a rather mischievous one, which forces the shaman to talk and to imitate various, often indecent, gestures. These spirits are called kaliany, and their representatives may be a Russian devil, a devil's daughter with a devilish groom, who, being blind, is in the habit of groping about in the dark, &c.

Thus Sieroszewski, on the mental training of the novice. Further light is thrown on the question by Troshchanski.[1] Following out his main idea of treating black and white shamans separately, he says: 'Not every one can become a shaman, either white or black; only a person whose sür has obtained a suitable education.

'The sür of a white shaman is educated under the care of one of the aïy, and the sür of a black shaman studies with an abassy. How the sür of a white shaman is educated among the Yakut is not known to us. The sür of a black shaman lives with his tutor on the ninth floor (underground-in their ideal division of the universe). If the sür is educated on the ninth floor, then a most powerful shaman will arise from it; if on the eighth floor, then the shaman will be of medium power; if on the third floor, then the shaman will be only a sorcerer.'

The education consists in the sür's learning 'the habits, character, and behaviour of abassylar and shamans.'

As to the education of a shaman himself, and his initiation, the Yakut shaman is taught by an older shaman, who consecrates him by 'placing on him the ämägyat'.[4] This sign is taken away by the shaman from a person who does not wish to be a shaman any longer. There is in the Yakut language a word usüi, which

means to teach the art of shamanizing and to consecrate a shaman.

Pripuzoff [1] describes the consecration of a shaman among the Yakut as follows: 'The old shaman leads his pupil up a high mountain or into a clearing in the forest. Here he dresses him in a shaman's garment, gives him a rattle, and places on one side of him nine chaste youths, and on the other nine chaste maidens. Then the shaman puts on his own garment, and directs the youth to repeat after him certain words.' He demands of the novice that he shall give up all that is most dear to him in the world, and consecrate his life to the service of the spirits who shall come -it his call. He tells his pupil where certain 'black' spirits dwell, what diseases they cause, and how they may be propitiated. Finally the young shaman must kill a sacrificial animal, and sprinkle himself with its blood. The flesh is eaten by those who have been present at the ceremony.

A child chosen to be a shaman is recognized among the Buryat by the following signs[2]: 'He is often absorbed in meditation, likes to be alone, has mysterious dreams, and sometimes has fits during which he is unconscious.' According to the Buryat beliefs, the soul of a child is then in process of being trained, among the 'West Tengeris' if he is to be a 'white' shaman, among the 'East Tengeris' if he is to become a 'black' one. Living in the dwelling of the gods, his soul, under the tutelage of deceased shamans, learns the various secrets of the shaman's vocation; the soul must remember the names of the gods, the places where they live, the means by which they may be propitiated, and the names of the spirits which are subordinate to the high gods. After a period of trial the soul of the child returns to the body, which for a time resumes its normal life. But on his reaching adolescence, peculiar symptoms show themselves in the person who has undergone these experiences. He becomes moody, is easily excited into a state of ecstasy, leads an irregular life, wandering from ulus to ulus to watch the shamanistic ceremonies. He gives himself up with great earnestness to exercises in the shamanistic arts, for which purpose he segregates himself, going to some high mountain or into the forest, where, before a great fire, he calls on the spirits,

[1. Pripuzoff, Materials for the Study of Shamanism among the Yakut, pp. 64-5.

2. Agapitoff and Khangaloff, Materials for the Study of Shamanism in Siberia, pp. 42-53.]

and afterwards falls into a swoon. In the meanwhile, to prevent him from doing himself an injury, his friends keep watch over him unobtrusively.

While the novice is preparing himself for his new life, his relations call in a good shaman, who makes a sacrifice to propitiate the spirits and induce them to help the young shaman-to-be. If the future shaman belongs to a poor family, the whole community helps to procure the sacrificial animals and other things which are indispensable for the ceremonies.

The preparatory period lasts for several years, its length depending largely on the capacity of the young man. He cannot, however, become a shaman until he reaches the age of twenty. Finally he undergoes a purification ceremony. One such ceremony does not confer all the rights and powers of a shaman; there are, in fact, nine. But very few shamans go through all these purifications; most only undergo two or three; some, none at all, for they dread the responsibilities which devolve upon consecrated shamans. To a fully consecrated shaman the gods are very severe, and punish his faults or mistakes with death.

The first consecration ceremony is preceded by a purification of water. For this an experienced old shaman, called the 'father-shaman', is chosen, together with nine young men to be his assistants. These are spoken of as his 'sons'. The water for the ablution must be drawn from a spring-sometimes from three springs. They go in the morning of the day of consecration to fetch the water, taking with them tarasun [1], with which they make a libation to the master- and mistress-spirits of the spring. As they return, they pluck up from the earth birch-seedlings, of which they make a broom, and take it to the house of the novice. Next the water is heated over a fire, and into it are thrown certain herbs and pieces of bark. Then from the ears of a he-goat prepared beforehand they cut pieces of hair, and some shavings from its horns and hoofs, and throw these also into the pot. The he-goat is then killed in such a manner that its blood drips into the pot. Then only is the water ready for the consecration ceremony. The flesh of the goat is given to the women present, who cook and eat it.

Now the father-shaman foretells the future from a sheep's shoulder-blade. He summons the shamanist ancestors of the

novice, and offers libations of wine and tarasun. Then he dips the birch-broom into the water and beats the candidate on the naked back, as do also the nine 'sons' of the 'father-shaman', saying at the same time: 'When thou art called to a poor man, ask little in return for your trouble, and take what is given. Take care of the poor always, help them, and pray to the gods to defend them against the power of evil spirits. If thou art called by a rich man, go to him riding on a bullock, and do not ask much for your trouble. If thou art called at the same time by a poor and by a rich man, go first to the poor.' The candidate repeats these precepts after the shaman, and promises to observe them.

Then follows a libation of tarasun to the guardian spirits; this closes the ceremony.
The purification of a shaman by water is performed at least once a year, but sometimes once a month, at the new moon; or else at any other time when he considers himself to have been defiled, e. g. by touching some unclean object. If the defilement is especially gross, then purification is performed with blood. The shaman also purifies himself after a death has occurred in the ulus.[1]

This ceremony is followed after some time by the first consecration, called kherege-khulkhe, the expenses of which are shared by the community. Again a 'father-shaman' and nine 'sons' are chosen, and they, accompanied by the novice, ride on horseback from yurta to yurta, collecting offerings. Before each yurta they stop and announce their coming with a shout. They are hospitably entertained, and offerings of different kinds-votive handkerchiefs, which are tied to 'a birch staff carried by the novice, and sometimes money-are brought to them. They buy wooden cups, little bells tied to horse-staves, wine, &c. The day before the ceremony a certain number of stout birches are cut from the groves by the 'sons' under the direction of the 'father-shaman '; from the straightest of these they make horse-staves. The grove from which these are taken is one in which the dead of the ulas are buried, and for the propitiation of the spirits there they make offerings of mutton and tarasan. At the same time they prepare the shaman's accessories, and meanwhile other shamans of similar standing with the 'father-shaman ' summon the spirits.

[1. ibid.]

In the morning of the day of the consecration the birch-trees cut the day before are planted. The stoutest birch, which has its roots still attached to it, they plant in the south-west corner of the yurta, where the ground is left bare for the fire; the top of the tree projects through the smoke-bole above. This birch represents symbolically the porter-god who allows the shaman ingress into heaven. It points the way by which the shaman can reach the sky, and remains permanently in the yurta as a sign that the dwelling is that of a shaman. The other birches are planted in front of the yurta in the place where sacrifices are usually offered, in the following order, from west to east:

(i) A birch under which, on a carpet of felt, is placed some tarasun. To the branches of this ribbons of black and yellow are tied if the shaman is to be 'black', of white and blue if he is to be a 'white' shaman, and of all four colours if he is to serve both kinds of spirits.

(ii) A birch to which are tied a big bell and the sacrificial horse.

(iii) A fairly stout birch which the novice has to climb.-These three trees are planted with their roots, and are called serge (posts).

(iv) Nine saplings, in groups of three, the saplings in each group being bound together with a rope made of white horsehair. To these are tied ribbons of different colours in the following order-white, blue, red, yellow, and so on again. On the saplings are hung skins of animals.

(v) Nine posts to which sacrificial animals are tied.

(vi) Some stout birches to which the bones of the sacrificial animals are tied after being bound up in straw. These birches form a row.

From the principal birch in the yurta to all those which stand outside are led two ribbons, red and blue. This is a symbolical representation of the path of the shaman to the spirit-world. To the north of the row of birches are placed nine pots for cooking the sacrificial meat.

When everything is ready, the novice and the others who take part in the ceremony don their ceremonial dress. Then the shaman's accessories are blessed, after which the horse-staves are said to turn into real horses. All the morning the assembled shamans have been summoning the spirits and sprinkling tarasun. The 'father-shaman' now calls upon the guardian gods, and the novice repeats after him the words of his invocation. The candidate climbs the birch inside the yurta, gets on to the roof, and from there summons the spirits in a loud voice. When the moment comes for leaving the yurta, four shamans take hold of a certain felt carpet, each by a corner.[1] Just outside the entrance to the yurta a fire is made, and various herbs are thrown into it: everybody and everything which passes over the fire is purified by it.

The people leave the yurta in the following order: first the 'father-shaman', then the candidate, then the nine 'sons', and finally the relatives and guests.

The ceremony ends with feasts and sacrifices.[2]

Among the Samoyed and Ostyak of the Turukhan country the future shaman spends his youth in exercises which stimulate his nerves and excite his imagination.[3] At the consecration of a novice, according to Tretyakoff[4] he must stand with his face towards the west, while the officiating shaman asks the Dark Spirit to help the candidate and to give him a spirit to serve him. At the end of the ceremony the shaman sings a hymn in praise of the Dark Spirit, and the novice repeats it after him. The beginner is tested by the spirits, who require of him certain sacrifices, as of his wife or son, and he has to promise them various other sacrifices.

Both Castren [5] and Islavin [6] speak of the special training of the novice by an old shaman. One of the Samoyed shamans told Castren of how he was entrusted to the care of an old shaman for training, when he was fifteen, as he (the candidate) came of an

old shamanist family. The means of education was as follows: Two tadibey (shamans) blindfolded him with a handkerchief, and then beat him, one on the back of the head and the other on the shoulders, till his eyes were dazzled as with too much light, and he saw demons dancing on his arms and feet. It must be remembered, of course, that he had been taught beforehand about the Samoyed world of spirits.' In former times Lapland was a school of shamanism, and all neighbouring tribes sent youths thither to be trained as shamans.[2] At present only among Russian Lapps are noyda (shamans) to be found, and they are but degenerate copies of their predecessors.

CHAPTER IX

TYPES OF SHAMANS

Palaeo-Siberians

IN this chapter, which deals with the different types of shamans, the duties of a shaman will be enumerated. In nearly all the more advanced tribes we shall see that certain shamans specialize in one sort of duty or another, while among the more primitive peoples each performs many different kinds of duties-a state of things made possible by the less complex nature of those duties. The high conception of a shaman's duties among certain tribes may be seen from Banzaroffs ideal picture of a Buryat shaman. He is (a) priest, (b) medicine-man, and (c) prophet.

(a) 'As a priest, he knows the will of the gods, and so declares to man what sacrifices and ceremonies shall be held; he is an expert in ceremonials and prayers. Besides the communal ceremonies at which he officiates, he conducts also various private cerenionials.'[1]

(b) As medicine-man, the shaman performs certain ceremonies to expel the evil spirit from the patient.

(c) As a prophet, he foretells the future either by means of the shoulder-blade of a sheep or by the flight of arrows.

This ideal type of shaman was probably rare even in Banzaroff's time, for he himself says that the shaman was not present at all communal sacrifices.[2] It is the same with some family sacrifices: the ongons are fed by the master of the house; and certain other sacrifices, as, for instance, those offered at child-birth, are made without the assistance of the shaman.[3]

The fact that a communal or family ceremony is sometimes presided over by the head of the commune or family, or that a private individual occasionally performs divination, does not alter the fact that the original type of Buryat shaman had the performance of all these rites in his hands.[4] They had among the

Mongols in the time of Djingis Khan, when the shamans were at the height of their power.[1] We cannot therefore agree with Mr. Mikhailowski, who says, 'Of all the actions of the shaman, the most characteristic of his calling is what is known as kamlanie,' i.e. invocations of spirits.[2] Although it may be that in the decadence of his office a shaman is sometimes nowadays no more than a medicine-man, even now in certain places shamans are present, not only at communal, but also at family rites, and even when not so present we find in the rites traces of their original participation,

The Koryak. Among the Koryak, as among the Palaeo-Siberians and most Neo-Siberian tribes, we may distinguish [3] (1) family shamans, and (2) professional shamans.

Family shamanism is connected with the domestic hearth, whose welfare is under its care. The family shaman has charge of the celebration of family festivals, rites, and sacrificial ceremonies, and also of the use of the family charms and amulets, and of their incantations.

Professional shamans are those who are not definitely attached to a certain group of people. The more powerful they are, the wider is the circle in which they can practise their art.

'There is no doubt that professional shamanism has developed from the ceremonials of family shamanism', says Joebelson. [4] It seems, however, necessary to add another category of (3) communal shamans, forming a transitional class between family and professional shamans. These shamans have to deal with a group of families taking part in important ceremonials. The admission of this third category must not be taken to mean that we agree unconditionally with the idea that the professional shaman is a development from the family, or the communal, shaman, though many practices, and the opinions of such serious investigators as Jochelson and Bogoras, lend some weight to this notion.

It was among the Koryak that professional shamans were first affected by Christianity.

The Chukchee. Among the Chukchee, the above division into family and professional shamans needs to be supplemented, since we find [5] that there exist three categories of professional shamans:

(A) Ecstatic shamans, (B) Shaman-prophets, (C) Incantation shamans.

Of course, the duties of the shamans of all these categories merge into each other; still, a certain specialization is to be observed.

A. The ecstatic shaman communicates with 'spirits' and is called kalatkourgin.

This includes all kinds of intercourse with "spirits" which become apparent to the listeners; that is, the voices of "spirits " talking through the medium of the shaman, ventriloquistic performances, and other tricks-generally speaking, the whole spectacular part of shamanism, which forms ' the main content of the shamanistic séances.' As observed above, 'all this is often considered merely as a kind of jugglery. For performances of this sort, young people are said to be better adapted than older ones. With increasing years some of the shamans discontinue most of these tricks.'[1]

B. The shaman-prophet, i. e. one who is 'looking into', hetolatirgin.

'This branch of Chukchee shamanism is held in the highest veneration, because the shaman possessing it has the faculty of seeing the danger lying in wait for the people, or the good in store for them, and accordingly he is able to advise them bow to avoid the first and to secure the second. Most of the instructions given are of a ritualistic kind, and refer to certain details of such and such a ceremonial, which must be arranged after a certain manner in order to secure the desired result., [2]

There are shamans who, though they have kelet at their disposal, cannot give any advice; while others, on the other hand, cannot communicate with 'spirits', but 'give magical advice as a kind of internal subjective inspiration, after self-communion for a few moments. These, notwithstanding the simplicity of their proceedings, usually enjoy the highest consideration of their neighhours.'[3]

For instance, the shaman Galmuurgin was said by the Chukchee to be '(with) only his (own) body' (em-wikilin), because no other beings helped him with their inspiration.

'When giving a séance, he began by beating a drum and singing, but in a few minutes he would leave off the exercise,

and drawing a few long, almost hysterical breaths, would immediately proceed to foretell the future. He talked to many people present, one by one. When he was through with one case, he would stop for a while, as if recollecting himself, and then, after several deep-drawn sighs, would pass on to the next applicant.'[1]

C. Incantation shamans (ewganva-tirgin, 'producing of incantations'), who carry on the more complicated practices of shamanism.

Incantations, together with spells, form the greater part of Chukchee magic. The incantations may be of a benevolent or malevolent character. Hence there are two types of shamans in this class:

1. 'Well-minded' (ten-cimnulin), who ply their art in order to help sufferers.
2. 'Mischievous' (kurg-enenilit, or kunich-enenilit, literally 'mocking shamans'), who are bent on doing harm to people.

Good shamans have a red shamanistic coat and bad shamans a black one. The same colours are used by the Yukaghir shamans.

The majority of shamans, however, combine in themselves the gifts of all these categories and in the name of 'spirits' perform various tricks, foretell the future, and pronounce incantations.

The Neo-Siberians.

The Yakut. Troshchanski[2] suggests that the division of shamans into black and white is the most essential division among all Siberian tribes, though many travellers speak of shamans in a general way as if there were only one kind. It would seem, however, that Troshchanski overlooks the distinction between the religious conceptions of the Palaeo-Siberians and those of the Neo-Siberians. They live under different environmental conditions; and, besides, the Neo-Siberians have undoubtedly been to some extent influenced by contact with the higher Asiatic religions.

It is among the Neo-Siberians that magico-religious dualism appears more distinctly. Again, within the class of Neo-Siberians themselves differences are found. Among the Yakut [3] the black shamans predominate, the white hardly existing; while among

the Votyak the white are almost the only shamans now to be found, as the cult of the bright god has almost entirely displaced that of the black.

The Yakut white shamans are called aïy-oïuna. They take part in the spring festivals, marriage ceremonies, fertilization rites, and the curing of diseases, in cases where kut has not yet been taken away from the patient.[1]

We read in a certain tale that at one wedding there were present nine aïy-oïuna (white men-shamans) and eight aïy-udangana (white women- shamans). [2] White shamans also ask, in cases of the sterility of women, the maghan sylgglakh to descend to earth and make the woman fertile. At the autumn fishing, in former times, they lighted torches made of wood cut from a tree struck by lightning, purged the waters of all uncleanness, and asked the ichchi (spirit-owner) of the lake for a benefit. This, he considers, was certainly done by white. shamans, if only for the reason that the ceremony was held in the daytime.[3] But, on page 105 of the same work, Troshchanski writes: 'Only the spring festivals were called aïy-ysyakh; the autumn festivals were known is abassy-ysyakh.' Hence the ceremony of fertilization of the lake must have been performed by black shamans, abassy-oïuna, in spite of the fact that this ceremony was held in the daytime.

As to the characters of the two kinds of shamans, Gorokboff says that he knew personally several aïy-oïuna, who were very good people indeed, quiet, delicate, and really honest, while the abassy-oïuna were good for nothing.[4] But Troshchanski says that the 'black shaman' among the Yakut is only professionally 'black', that his attitude has no specially evil character, and that he helps men no less than the white shaman does. He is not necessarily bad, though he deals with evil powers, and he occupies among the Yakut a higher position than among other Neo-Siberians.

Black shamans offer sacrifices to abassylar and shamanize to maintain their prestige. They foretell the future, call up spirits, wander into spirit-land, and give accounts of their journeys thither.[3]

At the present day there are among the Yakut special storytellers and also special sorcerers (aptah-kisi).

According to the degree of esteem, in which they are held by the people, Sieroszewski' classifies Yakut shamans as follows:

The Great Shaman-ulahan-oïun.

(2) The Middling Shaman-orto-oïun.

(3) The Little Shaman-kenniki-oïun.

A 'great shaman' has the ämägyat from Ulu-Toïen himself.

A shaman of middling power also possesses ämägyat, but not of so high a quality or to so great an extent as the former.

A 'little shaman' does not possess ämägyat. He is not, in fact, really a shaman, but a person in some way abnormal, neurotic, or original, who can cure trifling illnesses, interpret dreams, and frighten away small devils only.

With regard to the classification of shamans into 'white' and 'black', Troshchanski puts forward the hypothesis that these two classes of shamans originated and developed independently:

'One might imagine that the class of white shamans came into existence first, and that it derived from the class of heads of families and clans. The custom of the choice of one leader (shaman) for common ceremonies or sacrifices may have helped in this evolution of the white shaman from the heads of families. The wisest and most respected member of the community would probably have the best chance of being chosen, as he could please not only the people but also the spirits.' [2]

The same persons might then have been chosen repeatedly, and presently a class of white shamans might arise for the communal cults and sacrifices. In the meantime the head of the family could still keep his priestly power in his own home, until the professional shaman took his place, as we see at the present day among certain tribes, e.g. the Yakut. [3]

Why should we regard the head of the family as the prototype of the white shaman? We shall find in Troshchanski's book no more satisfactory reply to this question than is contained in the following short passage:

'I think we are right in saying that the heads of the family, or the chosen priests, in their practice and prayers do not address themselves to the evil spirits, which in Yakut are called abassylar; hence it is here that we find the origin of white shamans.' [4]

If we follow Troshchanski, we must draw the conclusion that

among the Neo-Siberians, e. g. the Buryat and the Yakut, the white shamans form a quite distinct class, although we see that on certain occasions the head of the family may take the place of the white shaman:

'Tailgan is a communal sacrifice in which the whole family or clan takes part. This ceremony is designed to show humility: the Buryat call it the "asking ceremony". The performer of tailgan may be the shaman, or the whole group of family heads without the assistance of a shaman.'[1]

Among the Palaeo-Siberians there is no class of white shamans, and the family cult is in the hands of the father, assisted by the mother, the participation of professional shamans being often prohibited. Among the Gilyak the assistance of shamans at sacrificial feasts, e.g. the bear-ceremonial, is even forbidden. Is this because there is no white shaman among these people? Or is it an indication that, after all, family and professional shamanism have developed separately?

Among the Yakut, from. the observation of whom Troshchanski formed his hypothesis, the white shaman may be a woman, in cases where the woman stands as family head.[2]

Now as to the black shamans, they were originally women, says Troshchanski, and he draws attention to the following linguistic and sociological particulars which are made to act as evidence in support of his hypothesis.

What is the essential meaning of the word shaman? In Sanskrit sram=to be tired, to become weary; sramana=work, religious mendicant. In the Pali language the word samana has the same meaning. These two latter words have been adopted by the Buddhists as names for their priests.[3] But, according to Banzaroff, the word shaman originated in northern Asia: saman is a Manchu word, meaning 'one who is excited, moved, raised'; samman (pronounced shaman) and hamman in Tungus, have the

same meaning. Samdambi is Manchu: 'I shamanize', i.e. 'I call the spirits dancing before the charm'[1]

From the above we see that the essential characteristic of a shaman is a liability to nervous ecstasy and trances. Women are more prone to emotional excitement than men: among the Yakut most of the women suffer from menerik (a nervous disease, one type of the so-called 'Arctic hysteria '). [2]

Thus Troshchanski. But the only conclusion-if any-that he could draw from this would be that women are by nature more disposed to shamanizing than men. And why should this make her the original black shaman? Only one piece of evidence is adduced to connect women with 'black' shamanizing, and that is taken from Kamchadal life,. not from that of the Yakut, upon which chiefly he grounds his hypothesis. Among the most primitive Kamchadal, where there were only women (or koek-chuch) shamans, these practised only black shamanism, summoning evil spirits.[3]

As to the linguistic evidence:

Among the Mongols, Buryat, Yakut, Altaians, Torgout, Kidan, Kirgis, there is one general term for a woman-shaman, which has a slightly different form in each tribe: utagan, udagan, udaghan, ubakhan, utygan, utiugun, iduan (duana); whereas the word for man-shaman is different in each of these tribes.

In Yakut he is called oïun; in Mongol, buge; Buryat, buge and bö; Tungus, samman and hamman; Tartar, kam; Altaian, kam and gam; Kirgis, baksa (basky); Samoyed, tadibey.
From the above Troshchanski concludes that during the migration of the Neo-Siberians they had only women-shamans, called by a similar general name; and that the men-shamans appeared later, when these people scattered, settling in lands distant from one mother, so that the term for man-shaman originated independently in each tribe.[4]

Of course, this linguistic evidence concerns only the Neo- and not the Palaeo-Siberians.
Troshchanski gives us further the following religio-social evidence, drawn exclusively from the Yakut, in support of his

hypothesis of the evolution of the 'black' man-shaman from the 'black' woman-shaman:

(a) On the Yakut shaman's apron there are sewn two iron circles, representing breasts.[1]

(b) The man-shaman dresses his hair like a woman, on the two sides of the head, and braids it; during a performance he lets the hair fall down.[2]

(c) Both women and shamans are forbidden to lie on the right side of a horse-skin in the yurta.[3]

(d) The man-shaman wears the shaman's costume only on very important occasions; in ordinary circumstances he wears a girl's dress made of the skin of a foal.[4]

(e) During the first three days after a confinement, when Ayisit, the deity of fecundity, is supposed to be near the woman who is lying-in, access to the house where she is confined is forbidden to men, but not to shamans.[5]

How the female black shaman was displaced by the male black shaman Troshchanski explains as follows, again using exclusively Yakut evidence:

The smith who made the ornaments for the female shaman's garment acquired some shamanistic power. He was in contact with iron, which was of magical importance, and power came to him through this contact. (The smiths were, like the shamans, 'black' and 'white', but among the Yakut one hears more of 'black' smiths than of 'white'.) Thus the similarity between the vocation of a shaman and that of a smith becomes close, especially when the calling of smith descends through many generations in the same family. Smiths come to be considered as the elder brothers of shamans, and then the differences between them finally disappear, the smith becoming a shaman.

The woman, then, since she could not be a smith, had eventually to give up her place to the man.

In modern times, as there are no longer any 'inagical smiths', new shamanistic garments cannot be made.'[6]

This hypothesis of women being the first black shamans is, however, not borne out by the evidence. Even if we allow that the above quotations, especially that containing the linguistic evidence, tend to show that women were shamans before men, it does not follow that they were the first black shamans. There is not enough evidence in Troshchanski's book to support his hypothesis of two separate origins and developments for black and white shamans.

On the other hand, the evolution which Troshchanski ascribes to black shamans might be ascribed to professional shamanism, if we reject Jochelson's and Bogoras's view that professional developed out of family shamanism.

The Altaians. Wierbicki [1] says that among the Altaians, besides the shaman, called kam, there are also (i) rynchi, 'who, during attacks accompanied by pain, can foretell the future'; (ii) telgochi, or 'guessers'; (iii) yarinchi, or those who can divine by means of the blade-bone; (iv) koll-kurechi, who divine from the hand; (v) yadachi, who control the weather by means of a stone, yada-tash, which is found in narrow mountain defiles, where winds blow continually. To obtain these stones a yadachi must swear away all his possessions. Hence he is poor, lonely, and usually a widower.

The Buryat. Among the Buryat, according to Shashkoff,[2] shamans are divided into (a) hereditary shamans and (b) shamans of the first generation. Another division is into (a) real, (b) false

shamans. Again there are (a) white (sagan-bö) and (b) black (haranïn-bö).

The white and black shamans, the Buryat say, fight with each other, hurling axes at one another from distances of hundreds of miles. The white shaman serves the West tengeri and West khats, and has charge of the ceremonies held at birth, marriage, &c. He wears a white coat and rides a white horse. A famous white shaman was Barlak of the Balagansk district, at whose grave his descendants still go to worship.

The black shaman serves the tengeri and khats of the East. These shamans are said to have power to bring illness and death upon men. They are not liked, but much feared, by the people, who sometimes kill black shamans, to such a point does this dislike develop.[1] The grave of a black shaman is usually shaded by aspens, and the body is fastened to the earth by a stake taken from this tree.

According to Agapitoff and Kangaloff, there are also a few shamans who serve both good and bad spirits at the same time.

The Samoyed. Lepekhin [2] Says that the Samoyed shamans are not divided into distinct classes, black and white, as among the Buryat, but serve both for good and bad ends, as occasion arises. The Lapps likewise make no strict distinction between good shamans and bad. Some of the Lapp noyda (shamans) are known as 'Big', and others as 'Little', noyda.

The Votyak. The whole Votyak hierarchy arose from the white shamans. The chief of the shamans is the tuno. At the present day the tuno [3] is the chief upholder of the old religion.

As the soul of a tuno is 'educated' by the Creator, he is without doubt a white shaman. Besides the tuno, there are priests, chosen either by himself or by the people under his advice. 'In most cases the profession and knowledge of a tuno descend from father to son, although any person who has the opportunity of acquiring the knowledge necessary to a tuno can become one.' [4]

Among the Votyak there is a classification of shamans into (a) permanent and (b) temporary. The latter are chosen to Perform some particular sacrifice. Besides these there are

secondary priests appointed by the tuno and called töre and parchis.

In former times black shamans also were to be found among the Votyak, but they have given way to the white, just as among the Yakut the white shaman has been largely displaced by the black.

The Votyak black shaman of former times has been converted into an ordinary sorcerer. He is called pellaskis, and 'he can aid the sick, and find lost cattle through his incantations; but all this without any connexion with the deities'.[1] Another kind of sorcerer is called vedin. He is feared and hated by all. [2]
When the tuno has finished his education under Kylchin-Inmar (the Creator), the latter takes his pupil to a place where the candidates for the position of sorcerer reside. He examines them, and to those who answer satisfactorily he gives permission to enchant and destroy men.

[1. Bogayewski, op. cit., p. 12).

2. Op. cit., p. 126.]

CHAPTER X

THE ACCESSORIES OF THE SHAMAN

IN everyday life the shaman is not distinguishable from other people except by an occasionally haughty manner, but when he is engaged in communicating with spirits he has to make use of a special dress and special instruments. Of these the most important and the one in most general use is the shaman's drum. It may be said that all over Siberia, where there is a shaman there is also a drum. The drum has the power of transporting the shaman to the superworld and of evoking spirits by its sounds.

Authors of the eighteenth century, like Pallas and Krasheninnikoff, pay great attention to the shaman's accessories. Though they have probably only been attracted by their picturesque side, yet their descriptions are very valuable in view of the modern attempt to reach the primitive mind through its symbolical forms of expression.

Shashkoff [1] enumerates the following items as indispensable to the shaman's dress all over Siberia-the coat, the mask, the cap, and the copper or iron plate on the breast. The Samoyed tadibey substitute for the mask a handkerchief tied over the eyes, so that they can penetrate into the spirit-world by their inner sight. This use of a handkerchief is also mentioned by Wierbicki, who says that the shamans of northern Altai wear one round the forehead to keep the hair out of the eyes.

These four accessories-the coat, the mask, the cap, and the iron plate-are used by the Neo-Siberians only, since among Palaeo-Siberians the dress is much less complicated.

Each tribe has, moreover, some particular object which plays the chief part in the shamanistic ceremony.

Gmelin,[2] describing the Tungus shaman's costume, says that over the usual shamanistic garment an apron, adorned with iron, is also worn; his stockings, likewise remarkable, are made of skin

ornamented with iron. Among the Gilyak and the Olchi it is the shaman's girdle which is of the greatest significance;[1] among the Buryat,[2] the horse-staves, &c. Iron and copper objects seem also to be especially associated with the Neo-Siberians.

The whole costume with its appurtenances used during shamanistic performances throughout Siberia has, according to Mikhailowski,[3] a threefold significance:

1. The shaman wishes to make a profound impression on the eyes of the people by the eccentricity of his costume.

2. The ringing of the bells and the noise of the drum impress their sense of hearing.

3. Finally, a symbolic meaning is attached to these accessories and adornments, a meaning known only to believers, especially to the shamans, and closely connected with the religious conceptions of shamanism.

Thus Mikhailowski. But this interpretation does not bring out the whole importance of the relation of these objects to the spiritual world. They are of great importance, for the spirits will not bear the voice of the shaman unless the right dress and implements are used, and the drum beaten; they are sacred because of their contact with a supernatural and often dangerous power.

Being sacred, these accessories must not be used by any one but a shaman, otherwise they are impotent to produce any result. It is only a good shaman, a real one, who can possess the full shaman's dress.

Among the Palaeo-Siberians it is usually the shaman himself who makes all accessories, and that only when the spirits give their permission. Among the natives of Altai it is not all shamans who have the right to wear manyak (the coat) and the owl-skin cap.[4]

Among the Yakut even the blacksmith who undertakes the ornamentation of the costume, must have inherited the right, 'If the blacksmith who makes a shamanistic ornament has not a sufficient number of ancestors, if he is not surrounded on all sides by the noise of hammering and the glow of fire, then birds with crooked claws and beaks will tear his heart in pieces.'[5] For this

reason the blacksmith's vocation comes next in importance to the shaman's. In modern times it is practically impossible among the Yakut for the shaman's coat to be made, since there is now no class of hereditary blacksmiths. In his description of the Tungus shaman's garment, Gmelin relates how the shaman whom he saw bad no cap because the old one was burnt and the spirits would not grant him a new one.[1] Of the Buryat shamans he observes that many of them do not possess drums, since the spirits with. bold permission to make them, and two long sticks which are struck crosswise against each other are therefore substituted at the performance.[2] Mikhailowski quotes the above statement in explanation of the fact that Khangaloff had seen only one drum among the Buryat shamans.

'With the degeneration of shamanism', says Mikhailowski, 'the number of people who know bow to prepare the sacred instrument with due regard to magical custom is decreasing.' [3] This, however, is not the true explanation of the disappearance of the drum among the Buryat, for the importance of the other chief Buryat accessory, the horse-staves, which demand equal care in the making, must also be taken into account. Without them the shaman cannot perform any of the principal rites. They are usually made of birch-wood, no one but a shaman who has passed his fifth consecration being allowed to use iron horse-staves.[4] The Lapps take great care of their drum and keep it covered up with furs. No woman may touch it.

A. Palaeo-Siberians.

The Chukchee. Among Palaeo-Siberians there are no strict regulations as to the shape and quality of the shaman's dress. Originality of costume is what is most sought after, and Bogoras tells us that the Chukchee shamans sometimes adopt some old coat brought froin the American shore. 'The Chukchee have nothing similar to the well-known type of coat covered with fringes and images, which is in general use among the Yakut and Tungus, and which probably was borrowed from the latter by the Yukaghir and perhaps also by the Kamchadal.'[5]

The absence of a peculiar shaman's dress among the Chukchee

may be accounted for by the fact that the shamans perform their ceremonies in the darkness of the inner room of the house, in an atmosphere so hot and stifling that they are obliged to take off their coats and to shamanize with the upper part of the body quite naked.

The only shamanistic garments that Bogoras speaks of are a coat and a cap. 'As far as I know,' he says, 'among the other neighbouring tribes also female shamans have no outward distinguishing mark, nor do they use the special shamanistic garb which is assigned only to the male shamans.'[1]

After this statement the custom among certain tribes of the adoption by the male shaman of the clothes and manner of a woman appears still more strange. The shamanistic coat is characterized by a fringe round the sleeves a little above the opening, or round the neck a little below the collar. This coat may be adopted by the shaman or by the patient. Besides the fringe there are slits ornamented with cured leather. 'These slits and fringes are usually said to represent the curves and zigzags of the Milky Way.' [2]

But if we remember the many other ways in which the Chukchee shaman imitates the Tungus shaman, we may conclude that both slits and fringes in the shamanistic coat are but another instance of the same imitation. The garment represented in Bogoras's book has in front of it an image of tetkeyun, that is, 'vital force', which resides in the heart and assumes its form. It is made like a leather ball and filled with reindeer-hair. The other figure, likewise of leather, represents a rekken, or 'assisting' spirit of the shaman.[3]

The shamanistic cap is also supplied with fringes, with a tassel on the top and a long double tassel on the left side. The tassels are of the type adopted for magic purposes, that is, they are formed of alternating pieces of white and black fur. 'Another cap with the opening on top, and likewise fringed and tasselled, was used by the shaman as a remedy against headache.' [4]

In addition to these garments, the Chukchee shaman uses in his performances many small instruments, such as the knife, the handle, of which is embellished with magical objects, and a small flat piece of ivory, which is said to be usually employed when cutting open a body. The ivory of the shaman, 'Scratching-Woman', had three

leather images fastened to it. 'One was said to represent a kele from the "direction" of the darkness, with the arms longer than the legs. The middle image with only one arm and one leg, and with the two eyes one above the other, represented the kele lumetun. The third image represented a crawling "spell" sent by an enemy of the shaman, who interecpted it on the way and thoroughly subdued it so that it began to do his bidding.'[1] These different amulets, the form of pendants and tassels, are made of skin and beads by the shaman himself, and are fastened to various parts of the body or dress. Such are also the 'round patches of skin, often with a tassel in the centre',[2] which are considered highly effective amulets among the Chukchee, the Koryak, and the Asiatic Eskimo. They are sewn to the coat, on the breast or on the shoulders, or against the affected part of the body. An image of the 'guardian' is placed in the middle, and is often replaced by an ornamental figure of a woman, of a dancing man, or of a warrior. These objects, as well as those already mentioned, serve both a magical and an ornamental purpose.

The most important object in shamanistic performances all over Siberia is the drum. Thus the Chukchee use the drum which is common to both Asiatic and American Eskimo.

The drum used by the Reindeer and Maritime Chukchee is different from that adopted in north-western Asia by the Yakut, Tungus, Koryak, Kamchadal, and Yukaghir, which is rather of a southern type.

The southern drum is large and somewhat oval in shape, and is held by four loose bands, which are fastened to the hoop of the drum on the inner side. The other ends of these bands meet in the middle, where they are tied to a small wheel or a cross, which is without any other support. When these are grasped by the hand the drum hangs loosely, and may be shaken and its position changed at will. The drum-stick is made of wood and covered with skin or with cured leather.

The Chukchee drum has a wooden handle[3] which is lashed with sinews to the wooden hoop. The diameter of the hoop, which is nearly circular in shape, is from 40 to 50 centimetres. The head is made of very thin skin, usually the dried skin of a walrus's stomach. In order to stretch the skin it is moistened with water or wine, and the edge is then tied with sinew cord. The ends of

this cord are fastened to the handle. The drum is very light weighing from half a pound to a pound and a half. The drumstick varies according to its purpose. It is either a narrow, light strip of whalebone from 30 to 40 centimetres long, or a piece of wood from 60 to 70 centimetres long, which is sometimes adorned with fur tassels. The former is used during the magical performances held in the inner room at night, the latter during ceremonials performed in the outer tent during the day.[1]

When the family is moving from place to place, the cover of the drum is removed, folded, and fastened to the hoop to be replaced when needed. In the winter house the drum remains in front of the sleeping-place, and in the summer tent it hangs near the sacred fire-board.

The Koryak. The shaman accessories of the Koryak, another Palaeo-Siberian tribe, are described by Jochelson as follows: 'The Koryak shamans have no drums of their own; they use the drums belonging to the family in whose house the shamanistic performance takes place. It seems that they wear no special dress; at least the shamans whom I had occasion to observe wore ordinary clothing.'[2]

One embroidered jacket. which was sold to Jochelson as an Alutor shaman's dress, is very much like the ordinary man's dancing-jacket used during the whale ceremony, but more elaborate. The Koryak drum belongs not to the shaman but to the family. It is used both as a musical instrument and as a sacred object in the household. Everybody who pleases can beat the drum, but there is usually one competent person who knows bow to shamanize with it.

The Koryak drum, yyai, is oval in shape and covered with reindeer-hide on one side only, its diameter being 73 centimetres. The drum-stick is made of thick whalebone, wider at the end with which the drum is struck, and this end is covered with the skin of a wolf's tail.

Inside the drum at four points in the rim a double cord of nettle fibre is fastened and joined below to form the handle. These cords run towards one side of the drum. On the top of the inside rim is attached an iron rattle. Jochelson says that this custom of attaching the rattle has been borrowed from the Tungus and that not all Koryak drums possess it.[3]

The Kamchadal (Itelmen). Among the Kamchadal there is apparently no shamanistic garment or drum. Two early travellers to their country, Steller and Krasheninnikoff, say that everybody, especially women, could shamanize, and hence this occupation was not professional enough to demand a special dress.

The Yukaghir. The Yukaghir drum is a rough oval. It is covered with hide on one side only. Inside the drum there is an iron cross near the centre, which serves as a handle. The ends of the cross are fastened with straps to the rim, to which four iron rattles are attached.[1] There is a great similarity between the Yukaghir and the Yakut drum, not only in the iron rattles, iron cross, and general shape, but also in the small protuberances on the outer surface of the rim, which according to the Yakut represent the horns of the shaman's spirits. The stick is covered with the skin of a reindeer's leg. In Yukaghir traditions the drum without metallic additions is still traceable, the iron pieces having been borrowed from the Yakut.

The Yukaghir word for drum is yalgil, which means 'lake', that is, the lake into which the shaman dives in order to descend into the shadow-world.[2]

The Eskimo. This is very much like the conception of the Eskimo, the souls of whose shamans descend into the lower world of the goddess Sedna. The Eskimo drums are not large; the largest are to be found at Hudson Bay. They are either symmetrically oval or round, and a wooden handle is fastened to the rim. J. Murdoch[3], says that such drums are used by the Eskimo from Greenland to Siberia. The Eskimo as well as the Chukchee beat the lower part of the drum with the stick. The Koryak drum also is struck from below, and is held in a slanting position. Other Asiatic drums are mostly beaten in the centre. Among the Indians living south of the Eskimo we find broad-rimmed drums used for purposes of shamanism, as well as in dancing-houses.[4]

The Gilyak. The most important accessories of the Gilyak shaman are the drum, kas, and the shaman's girdle, yangpa. Schrenck gives us the following description of them: 'One night when I was sitting in a tent in the village of Yrri, they brought in two shamans' drums and other accessories, and at my request

they allowed me to be present at the preparation for the ceremony, First of all the drum was heated by the fire, to make the hide taut, so that the sound might be more sonorous.[1] The drum was made of the skin of a goat or reindeer, and whilst it was being prepared the shaman made ready. He took off his outer garment, put on the so-called koska, a short apron, and tied round his head a band of grass, the end of which hung over his shoulders like a tress of hair. Then he took the shaman's leather girdle, with many iron plates,[2] copper hoops, and other metal pendants, which produce a loud clanking noise during the shamanistic dances.' This girdle is called in Olcha dialect yangpa. Its chief pendant is a large copper disk with a small handle ornamented in relief, showing Manchu influence; this circle, called tole, makes the most important sound. There are also many iron links called tasso, and many irregular pieces of iron called kyire, which make a very loud noise; a few rolled iron plates called kongoro, and, finally, some small copper bells without tongues, called kongokto. When the girdle is put on all these objects hang together at the back. This shamanistic girdle is of considerable weight.[3]

Although the Gilyak belong to the Palaeo- Siberians, the metal accessories seem to be of Tungus origin, as are some other features of their culture. We read in Gmelin's [4] description of the costume of a Tungus shaman that he wears over the ordinary dress an apron ornamented with iron. This suggests that this apron-form of the shaman's coat was borrowed either by the Gilyak from the Tungus, or vice versa.

B. The Neo-Siberians.

Among the Neo-Siberians all their philosophy of life is represented symbolically in the drum, and great significance is also attached to various parts of their dress.

The Yakut. Among the Yakut even those who, like the blacksmith, help in the adornment of the shaman's garment, occupy a half-magical position, being credited with 'peculiar fingers '. [5] The hereditary blacksmiths have tools with ' souls', ichchylakh, which can give out sounds of their own accord. The blacksmiths

are those who approach most nearly to the shaman in their office, and are, in a way, related to them. 'The blacksmith and the shaman are of one nest', says a proverb of the Kolyma district, cited by Sieroszewski. 'The smith is the elder brother of the shaman' is another saying quoted by Troshchanski. Blacksmiths can sometimes cure, give advice, and foretell the future, but their knowledge is simply a matter of cleverness and does not possess magical value. The profession of blacksmith is mostly hereditary, especially in the north; in the ninth generation the blacksmith first acquires certain supernatural qualities, and the longer his line of descent, the greater his qualities. The spirits are generally afraid of the iron hoops and of the noise made by the smith's bellows. In the district of Kolyma the shaman would not shamanize until Sieroszewski had removed his case of metal instruments, and even then attributed his bad luck to them: 'The spirits are afraid of the blacksmith (Sieroszewski), and that is why they do not appear at my call.'[1]

The shaman's dress, according to Sieroszewski, consists chiefly of a coat. It is of cowhide, so short in front that it does not reach the knees, but touching the ground at the back. The edges and the surface of this coat are ornamented at the back with different objects, each having its own name, place, and meaning. The shaman's coat, which is not an indispensable part of the ritual costume arnong Palaeo-Siberians, is most elaborate among the Neo-Siberians.

Linguistically also there is a curious point connected with the terms for coat and drum. While the drum has a common name (with dialectic differences) among most Neo-Siberians, tünür, tüngür, &c., the term for the shaman's coat varies: kumu, ereni, manyak.[2] This seems to show that the ceremonial coat is a comparatively newer invention than the ceremonial drum.[3]

Sieroszewski [4] gives us an account of the meaning of the coat ornamentation, which he heard from in old Yakut. It is as follows:

1. Küngeta (the sun), a round, smooth, shining disk, the size of a small saucer, hanging between. the shoulders, on a short strap of leather which passes through the hole in the middle of the disk. [5]

2. Oibon-Künga (hole-in-the-ice sun), a disk of the same shape and size as the first, but with a larger hole in the middle. it hangs above or below the first plate on a long leather strap.[1]

3. Kondei kyhan, rolls of tin about the size of a thumb, but longer, banging at the back on the metal rings or loops.

4. Chilliryt kyhan, flat plates as long as fingers, banging in great numbers at the back, above the waist.

5. .Hobo, copper bells without tongues, suspended below the collar; like a crow's egg in size and shape and having on the tipper part a drawing of a fish's head. They are tied to the leather straps or to the metal loops.

6. Biirgüne, two round flat disks, similar to those which adorn the woman's cap, tuskata, but without any design on them; they are tied like an epaulet on the shaman's shoulders.

7. Oiogos timiria, two plates about the breadth of four fingers and a little shorter, fastened on both sides of the body.

8. Tabytaua, two long plates two fingers broad, which are fastened to both sleeves.

9. Ämägyat, abagyta ämätiat (in many places called emchet), a copper plate as long as the first finger and half as wide as the palm of the hand. It is covered either with a drawing of a man, 'with feet, bands, head, nose, mouth, eyes, and ears',[2] or with an engraving in relief on a copper medallion, having a man's figure in the middle.

'Only a blacksmith who has nine generations behind him can,

without danger to himself from the spirits, make an ämägyat, a copper plate such as has been described, which the shaman, when he begins to shamanize, hangs on his breast.'[1] What exactly ämägyat means, whether it is a personal or an impersonal power, it is difficult to determine. We shall go on to review the various references to this subject, since the word ämägyat is used in the double sense of (1) an invisible power and (2) of a visible symbol. In this chapter we shall confine ourselves to the latter. The absence of ämägyat differentiates the less important shamans, called kenniki oyuun, from those who possess it and who are known as orto oyaun. The power of those in partial possession of ämägyat varies according to 'the strength of their ämägyat'[2] The great shamans are those whose 'spirit-protector was sent them by Ulu-Toyen himself' (ämägyatitiah ulytoër ulutoënton ongorulah).[3]

Describing the shaman in action, Sieroszewski4 says that the shaman implores the assistance of his ämägyat and of other protecting spirits'; and it is only when the ämägyat descends upon the shaman that he begins his frenzied dances.
Whenever a family numbers a shaman among its members, it continues to do so, for after his death the ämägyat seeks to re-embody itself in some one belonging to the same clan (aya-usa).[5]

'Ämägyat ', says Sieroszewski in another place,[6] is a being quite apart; in most cases it is the soul of a departed shaman; sometimes it is one of the secondary supreme beings.'

The human body cannot endure the continuous presence of a power equal to that of the great gods; hence this spirit-protector (if ämägyat can be so called) resides not within, but close beside the shaman, and comes to his assistance at critical moments, or whenever he needs him.[7]

The shaman can see and hear only with the help of his ämägyat said the shaman Tiuspiut to Sieroszewski.

Possession of the ämägyat does not in any way depend upon the shaman; it comes either by an accident or by a decree from above. Tiuspiut obtained his ämägyat (of Tungus origin) quite accidentally.

The great shamans at death take their ämägyat with them, and thus change into heavenly beings, most of whom are ex-shamans;

if the ämägyat does not depart in this way, then sooner or later it will show itself on the earth.
Troshchanski says that the most important ornament of the Yakut shaman's coat is ämägyat, which represents a man. On one of the coats that he reproduces there is an ämägyat on the left side made of molten copper. On another coat ämägyat were op. both sides of the breast and made of tin.[1]

Ämägyat is the sign of the shaman's vocation, which is always given by the old shaman to the new. It is quite possible, thinks Troshchanski, that it represents the shaman's ancestor and protector.[2]

Speaking of the preparatory stage of the shaman, Troshchanski says that the Yakut shaman is taught by an older shaman, who initiates him by suspending round his neck the ämägyat. This symbol is taken away from the shaman who no longer wishes to shamanize. An old blind Yakut, however, told Sieroszewski (p. 625) how he gave up his shaman's vocation, thinking it a sin, and although a powerful shaman removed the ämägyat sign from him, nevertheless the spirits made him blind.

In the Mongolian language ämägäldzi signifies the figure of the protective genius of the house, family, and goods, and is made of tin. According to Katanoff, this word is derived from ämägän, grandmother.

10. Balyk-timir (the fish), a plate a metre long, two fingers wide, made in the form of a fish with head, fins, tail, and scales. It bangs on a long leather strap. In some places, like the district of Kolyma, it drags on the ground to entice the secondary spirits, which run after it and try to catch it.[4]

11. Choran, small hollow copper balls, fastened to the ends of long leather straps reaching to the heels and banging like a fringe from the lower edge of the coat. This fringe is called bytyrys (the weed).

The coat is plain in front, and fastens on the breast with leather straps, and under the chin with a buckle in the form of a colt's tongue (kulun tyl kurduk). On the front of the coat are sewn figures of animals, birds, fishes; various disks; images of the sun, moon, and stars; and also some iron representations of the human skeleton and bowels.

In the north, in case of the absence of this costume, the shaman

wears the woman's sangyniah, a coat of calf's skin, with the hair outside, on the feet of which are occasionally hung some of the most important iron accessories, like the two 'suns' (or sun and moon), the fish and the bürgüne; sometimes two round circles, which represent the breasts, are hung in the front.

A good shaman's dress requires about 35 to 40 pounds of iron.

In the north the shaman wears a woman's travelling cap with ear-flaps, but this is not to be seen in more southern regions, where the shaman is in most cases bareheaded.

According to general belief, the iron and the jingling pendants of the shaman's coat have the power to resist rust, and possess a soul-ichchite.[1]

The shaman wears his magical coat next his skin, and receives it from the hand of a kuluruksuta (page, assistant), i. e. the man whose duty it is to shout during the performance: seb! kirdik! choo! o o! ('well! true! choo! o o!'), and who helps the shaman in other ways, such as preparing the drum.

The Yakut drum is called, according to Sieroszewski, tüngür,[2] and according to Troshchanski,[3] tünür or dünür.

The drum is always egg-shaped, and is covered with the bide of a young bull. Its longest diameter is 53 cm., the width of the rim 11 cm., and the length of the stick 32 cm. The wider part of the stick is covered with cowhide. According to Jochelson, there are twelve raised representations of horns on the drum.[4] Sieroszewski [5] says that they are always found in odd numbers, 7, 9, or 11. The cross inside is attached to the rim by means of straps. Little bells, jingling trinkets, and other rattles of iron and bone are attached inside round the rim, especially in the places where the straps are fastened.

The term tüngür- seems to be a universal name for the drum among most of the Neo-Siberian tribes; sometimes t changes to d, giving the form düngür.

In Manchu the drum is called tunkun; in Mongol düngür; in Altaian tüngur; in Uriankhai donkür; in Soïot and Karagass tüngur.

Among the Yakut, as has been said, there are two names, tünür and donkür. Maak[5] records that the Yakut of Viluy

explained to him that 'the shamans in addition to the tünür (drum) have also a stringed instrument, dünür.

The word tünür among the Yakut means also kinship through marriage: tünürätär, 'match-making'.

Troshchanski[1] thinks that this double meaning is not accidental, and that as the shaman was originally the head of a family, the drum might be regarded as the bond of unity between the shaman and the community, as well as between the shaman and the spirits.

Besides the drum, the shaman uses two other musical instruments, one of which is a stringed instrument like the Russian balalaika (a kind of banjo), the other an instrument like that known as a jews' harp, a small frame with a long wooden or metal tongue, which is moved by the finger; the narrow end of the instrument is held between the teeth, so that the mouth acts as a sounding-board.

Among the Yakut the jews' harp, called homus (hamys), is apparently not a shaman's instrument, though the shamans of other Neo-Siberians have been known to use it.

Among the Buryat from Irkutsk, this instrument is called khur, and is used only by the shamans.[2] This is also true of the Uriankhai. The Soïot call it komus, but the Altaians (using the term in the narrowest sense), who also have the word komus, use it to designate the stringed instrument resembling the Russian balalaika, which only shamans play.[3] The Kirgis call the shaman's drum kobuz.[4] According to Wierbicki, the Altaians use the two-stringed kabys or komus as an accompaniment to the recital of heroic tales.[5]

There are sometimes minor shamanistic performances without the drum and without the special garments. The shaman sits in his everyday dress on a small chair in the middle of the room and holds in his bands a branch ornamented with bunches of white horsehair, of which there may be three, five, or seven, but never an even number. The fire is not put out for these performances, and some of the horsehair is thrown on to it. The shaman does not dance, but sings and whirls about.[6]

Troshchanski [1] thinks that, among the Yakut, white and black shamans have different coats. The coat of the white shaman has no animal pictures on it, because their spirit-protectors belong to the aiy (good spirits), which are not symbolized by animal pictures. The coat of the black shaman should not (according to Troshchanski) have representations of the sun, for these are peculiar to white shamans. The drums of the two shamans also differ. When Troshchanski showed an old Yakut woman, who knew a great deal about the shaman dress, a certain drum (op. cit., fig. II, b), she at once recognized it as a white shaman drum, since horsehair was fastened round the iron rim inside it.]

Tribal and clan differences exist in the shaman's coat, and it would be difficult to say whether a sharp line can be drawn between black and white shamanistic garments. Troshchanski is much influenced by this conception of dualism, but from the materials in our possession, a few very imperfect photographs, it would be unwise to come to a decision. It should be remarked, however, that neither of the writers on the Palaeo-Siberians in describing shaman instruments makes this division, and but few of the writers on the Neo-Siberians.

Potanin [2] describes how, on a shaman's coat of the Uriankhai tribe, among other properties, there was a small doll with a minute drum in its left hand. On the same string to which the doll was tied there was another small figure of an animal resembling the sacrificial animal of the real shaman. The significance of this is, of course, obvious. The shaman's ancestor resides in a symbolic form in the shaman's coat. Thus the small doll of the Uriankhai shaman's coat takes the place of the ämägyat the Yakut, if we are to take ämägyat as the symbol of the shaman's ancestor.

The skeleton figuring on the shaman's coat in Troshchanski's book must probably also be ascribed to the shaman's ancestor, for quite near it are sewed hawks' wings, and none but a shaman can fly or be represented by wings.

One might suppose from what has been said above that we have here to deal with three ways of representing the shaman ancestor: by the doll, the ämägyat, and the skeleton. It would be interesting to know, however, whether or not the ämägyat is to be found side by side with either of the other symbols. If so, it

[1. Op. cit., p. 133.

2. Op. cit., iv. 100.]

is possible that ämägyat is not a symbol of the ancestor spirit, but has a meaning of its own. On the Yakut coat the skeleton exists independent of ämägyat. On the Altaian coats described by Potanin, the doll is found side by side with the ämägyat. Both Troshchanski and Sieroszewski describe ämägyat as an indispensable ornament of every shaman's coat.

The coat possesses an impersonal power of itself. It is said to bear the names of ongor (Mongol) and tanara (Yakut) in addition to the classified names for the coat.

By assuming this coat the shaman receives supernatural power, which allows him to go to the upper- and under-worlds to meet spirits and deal with them. It is called 'shaman's horse' among the Yakut.

The coat as a whole is a tanara of the shaman, and each symbolic picture on the coat is also his tanara, i.e. protector.[1]

Another interpretation of the coat is given by Pripuzoff.[2] The picture of a perforated sun and a half-moon, he says, represents the dusk which reigns in the kingdom of the spirits. The strange animals, fishes, and birds which hang on the coat point to the monsters that are said to inhabit the spirit-land.

The iron chain hanging on the back signifies, according to some, the strength of the shaman's power, and according to others, the rudder which he uses in his journeys through the spirit country. The iron disks are there to defend the shaman from the blows of the hostile spirits.

Potanin[3], gives us an interesting description of the shaman's garment among the natives of Altai and north-western Siberia. According to him, it is in comparatively good preservation among the natives of Altai.

Natives of Altai. The shaman's coat is made of goat or reindeer hide. All the outer side is covered with pendants of varying length in serpent form, and has pieces of many-coloured stuff stitched on to it. The pendants, which terminate in serpents' heads, hang freely. Bundles of reindeer leather straps are also attached here and there. The term manyak, is applied by the natives of Altai to the small pendants as well as to the coat as a whole.

There can further be found on the coat various symbolic figures and jingling pendants, such is iron triangles, a small bow and

arrow to frighten hostile spirits, &c. On the back and sometimes on the front of the coat there are sewed two copper disks. One kam (shaman) had four empty tobacco-bags hanging on his coat with imaginary tobacco inside, which he offers to the spirits whilst he is wandering in their country.

The collar is trimmed with owl's feathers. One kam had, according to Potanin, seven little dolls on his collar, which, Potanin was told, were heavenly maidens.

A few bells are sewed on here and there; the more prosperous shamans have -is many as nine. The ringing of the bells, a kam told Potanin, is the voice of the seven maidens whose symbols are sewed to the collar calling to the spirits to descend to them.

The cap [1] of the Altaian shaman is formed of a square piece of the hide of a reindeer calf. On one side there are two buttons and on the other two loops. On the top, bunches of feathers are sewed, and from the lower edge bangs a fringe made of string and shell-fish. This is placed on the head with the two sides buttoned to the back, thus forming a cylindrical cap on the shaman's head. If the hide is bard, the top of the cap with its feathers sticks up like a coronet.

Among some shamans of the Teleut, the cap is made of brown owl skin; the feathers remain as ornaments, and sometimes also the bird's head.

It is not all shamans who can wear the manyak and the owlskin cap. The spirits generally announce to the chosen man when he may wear them.

Among the Tartars of Chern the shaman wears a mask (kocho), with squirrels' tails for eyebrows and moustaches. Among the same people Yadrintzeff noticed the use of two crutches; one of them was a crook, the other was supposed to be a horse, similar to the horse-staves of the Buryat.

All the drums which Potanin saw among the natives of Altai and north-western Mongolia were round in shape.[2] Yadrintzeff says that the Tartars of Chern have oval drums resembling the egg-shaped drum of the east Siberians.

The Altai drum has a hoop as large as the palm of one's hand, covered on one side with bide. Inside the drum there is vertical wooden stick and a horizontal iron chord with rattles

[1. Op. cit., p. 52.

2. Op. cit., iv. 44, 679.]

attached. The drum is held by the wooden stick, and not at the intersection of the stick and the iron crossbar.

The wooden vertical stick is called bar by the natives of Altai. Among other north-western tribes it has various names. The bar has a man's head and feet at the two ends. The upper part is often carved, the eyes, the nose, the mouth, and the chin being cut with great exactness. The horizontal iron stay is called by the Altaians krish, and from it hang various iron rattles called kungru. The number of kungru varies according to the ability of the shaman. It is a guide to the quantity of chayu (Potanin translates this word 'spirits', but it seems rather to mean 'spiritual power) possessed by the shaman, since the more chayu the shaman possesses, the more kungru are found in his drum.

Under the chin of the figure on the wooden bar are fastened long strips of gaudy material called yauasua. Radloff[1] calls this yalama.

On the hide of the drum, sometimes on both sides, sometimes on the inner side only, circles and crosses and other lines are drawn with red dye.[2]

Some Altai drums have drawings of animals on them, lilce those on the drums of the North-American Indians.[3]

The drums of the Chern and Kumandinsk Tartars differ from those of the Altaians; instead of bar, krish, and jingling plates there are here representations of the two worlds, above and underground, separated by a horizontal line, which divides the drum into two parts, an upper and a lower.[4]

On the outer side of the drum of the Chern Tartars, pictures of animals and plants are found. On the upper and larger part an arch is drawn, with indications of sky, inside of which are two trees with a bird on each. To the left of the tree are two circles-the sun and the moon-light and darkness. Below the horizontal line are pictures of frogs, lizards, and snakes.[5] These drawings have a particular importance, since the symbols described show more than any others the shamanistic view of the natural and the supernatural.

There is unfortunately very little material of a reliable character, the studies of Potanin and Klementz being the most valuable. On the whole, it is safe to say that the drums of the natives of

north-west Asia, especially in the southern parts, are adorned with representations of the upper and lower worlds divided by a horizontal line.[1]

The following interpretation of this same ornamentation is given by Klementz in his study of the drums peculiar to the neighbourhood of Minussinsk.[2] His information was given him by a kam of high standing.

Although by no means all drums are ornamented in the same way, yet in this account we may perceive certain traditional rules embodying the Altaian and Mongolian conception of the meaning of the drum and its decoration.

A. The lower part of the drum:

1. Bai-Kazyn (painted in white), 'a rich birch' -alluding to the birches round which annual sacrificial ceremonies are held.

2. Ulug-bai-kazyn (in white)-two trees growing in Ulukhan's country.

3 and 4. Ak-baga ('white frog') and Kara-baga ('black frog'), the servants of Ulu-khan.

5. Chshity-us, spirits associated with seven nests and seven feathers.

6. Chshity-kyz ('seven maids'); these bring seven diseases on man.

7. Ulugere, to whom prayers are offered for the curing of toothache and of earache.

8. Ot-imeze ('Mother of the fire').

B. The upper part of the drum:

1. Souban-ir. The kam translated this 'aurora' (whether with the meaning of dawn or the aurora borealis is impossible to decide from Potanin's description).

2. Ike-karagus, two black birds, flying as messengers from the shaman to the shaytans.

4. Aba-tyus (the bear's tooth).

5. Sugyznym-karagat. According to the kam, this means 'the horses of Ulu-khan'.

6. Kyzyl-kikh-kahn. to whom one prays when beginning any undertaking.

The other figures drawn in white paint are animals, which Kyzvl-kikh-khan is hunting.

Many other authors also coniniont on this method of dividing the pictures on the Neo-Siberian drum. Wierbicki,[1] describing the tüngür of the natives of Altai, says: 'On the outer side the hide is painted with red ochre; on the upper part are represented the sky, a rainbow, sun, moon, stars, horses, geese, the kam on a horse, and, on the lower part, the earth.'

According to Dr. Finsch's description [2] the drums of the Samoyed and of the Ob-Ostyak are, like the Altai drums, round in shape, broad-rimined, covered on one side only, and have a diameter of from 30 cm. to 50 cm.

The Ostyak drums described by Potanin [3] have the same division of the drum into lower and upper parts representing lower and tipper worlds, as among the Tartars of Chern.

The Buryat. The Buryat shaman's costume was first described by Pallas.[4] It belonged to a female shaman, who was accompanied by her husband and two other Buryat, each of them holding a magical drum.[5] She herself held in her hand two sticks, ornamented at the top end with a carving of a horse's head surrounded by small bells. [This implement is called by recent travellers 'horse-staves'.] From the back of the shoulders reaching to the ground hung about thirty snakes, made of white and black skin, in such a way that the snakes seem to be composed of white and black rings. One of the snakes was divided into three at the end, and was accounted indispensable to each Buryat female shaman. The cap was covered with an iron casque having horns with three branches, projecting on both sides like those of a deer.

Gmelin[5], saw a costume of another old and revered female

shaman near Selenginsk. Her costume was hanging in her yurta, but, according to her account, was not complete. Among other things he mentions a box, full of strips of cloth, small stones, thunderbolts, &c., which she used for magical purposes.[1] There was also a felt bag full of various felt idols.

In the exhaustive work of Agapitoff and Khangaloff there is a description of the old shaman costume among the Buryat-a costume of a kind which, however, is very rarely to be met with at present. According to them, the coat (orgoy), the cap, and the horse-staves (morini-khörbö are the chief appurtenances of a shaman.

1. The orgoy is of white material for the white shaman, and of blue for the black shaman. Its shape does not differ from that of the ordinary coat.'

Klementz[2]says that the old-fashioned orgoy was shorter than that of the present day.
The front of the coat is covered with metal figures of horses, fishes, birds, &c. The back is covered with twisted iron representing snakes, -with rattles hanging from them (shamshorgo),[4] together with a whole row of little bells and tambourine bells.

On the chest above the thin plates used to hang little shining copper disks, and on the sleeves were also hung thin iron plates, in imitation of the bones of the shoulder and forearm. This gave Gmelin the ground for his assertion that two shamans who came to him from Nijine-Udinsk resembled chained devils.[5]

2. The cap, which is peaked, is made of lynx skin, with a bunch of ribbons on the top. After the fifth consecration the shaman can wear the iron cap; it is composed of a crown-like iron hoop with two half-hoops crossing each other, above which is an iron plate with two born-like projections.

In the place where the intersecting hoops are tied to the hoop round the head there are three groups of khoubokho,[6] or kholbogo, conical weights of iron. From the back of the hoop hangs an iron

chain composed of four links and ending in small objects resembling a spoon and an awl.[1]

Klementz [2] calls this cap the metal diadem, 'consisting of an iron ring with two convex arches, also of iron, crossing one another at right angles, and with a long jointed chain which hangs down from the nape of the neck to the heels-we know of them only from the descriptions of travellers and from specimens preserved in a few museums'.

3. The horse-staves (morini-khorbo) are to be met with among all the Buryat of Baikal, but among the Buryat of Balagan they are not used. Each Baikal shaman possesses two. They are made of wood or of iron; but the iron staff is only given to the shaman after the fifth consecration, when he also receives the iron cap. The wooden horse-staves are cut for the novice the day before his first consecration, from a birch-tree growing in the forest where the shamans are buried. The wood for the horse-staves must be cut in such a way that the tree shall not perish, otherwise it would be a bad omen for the shaman.

This implement is 80 cm. long; the upper part is bent and has a horse-head carved on it; the middle part of the stick forms the knee-joints of the horse, and the lower end is fashioned into a hoof.

Little bells, one of which is larger than the rest, are tied to the horse-staves. Likewise small conical weights of iron, khoubokho, or kholbogo, blue, white, yellow and red-coloured ribbons, and strips of ermine and squirrel fur. To make it look more realistic miniature stirrups are also attached.

The iron horse-staves are not very different from the wooden ones. They represent the horses on which the shaman rides to the upper and lower worlds.

According to Khangaloff, it is in the drum that the horse, on which the shaman makes his flight, is symbolized. Khangaloff, however, also speaks of the rarity of the drum among the Buryat. The only drum which he saw among them was of the form and size of a small sieve, and was covered with horse-hide fastened to the back with leather straps. He did not notice any pictures either on the outside or on the inside, but the outside surface, he says, was daubed with some white stuff.[3]

Klenientz says that the drum, khese, is very little known among the Buryat, who substitute the horse-staves for it, and that the little bell is sometimes also called khese; nevertheless, among the Mongol Shamanists and the Mongolized Uriankhai, the drum is in use.[1]

The Buryat Buddhists use in their divine services either drums covered on both sides with hide, like those found among the North-American Indians, or those with hide on one side only. These drums are round, and have leather handles attached to the outer edge of the rim.[2]

Klementz mentions as the next accessory of the shaman the khur, a 'tuning-fork'('jews' liarp'?), with a wire tongue between the two side-pins, an implement largely in use among shamanists. It may be met with, he says, from the sources of the Amur to the Ural, and from the Arctic Ocean down to Tashkent. Here and there it is merely a musical instrurnent.[3]

On the shaman's boots there were formerly sewed iron plates, but these are no longer in use.
The Olkhon Buryat, say Agapitoff and Khangaloff, have one other property, called shire. It is a box three and a half feet long and one foot deep, standing on four legs, each two feet high. On the box are hung ribbons, bells, strips of skin, and on one of the long sides different figures are carved or painted in red. Usually on the right side is represented the sun, and on the left, the moon. The sun is depicted as a wheel, and in the middle of the moon there is a human figure holding a tree in one hand. In the middle of the long side there are three images of secondary gods, one woman and two men, in whose honour wine is sprinkled several times a year. There are also war implements-bow and quiver and sword, and under each human figure there is a horse. The shire is used to bold horse-staves, drums, and other ritual implements. The shaman acquires the right of carrying the shire after the fifth consecration .[4] It is asserted, says Klementz,[5] that with every new consecration up to the ninth, the height and other dimensions of the shire increase.

Nil[6] mentions two things more: abagaldey, a monstrous mask of skin, wood, and metal, painted, and ornamented with a great

beard; and toli, a metal looking-glass with representations of twelve animals on it; this is hung round the neck and worn on the breast; sometimes it is sewed on the shaman's coat.

Occasionally the Buryat shaman has also a whip with bells, but generally all these implements tend to disappear in modern times.

Two other ethical and linguistic groups, which, although they live only partly in Siberia, yet belong to the Neo-Siberians, are the Samoyed and the Finnic tribes, and a survey of their shaman accessories is of special interest in connexion with those of the Mongolic, Turkic, and Tungusic shamans.

The most important belonging of a tadibey (Samoyed shaman) is his penzer (drum), which he prepares according to a special set of rules. He must kill a male reindeer-calf with his own hands, and prepare the skin in such a way that no veins are left on it. In these preparations inka (i. e. a woman), being considered unclean, cannot assist.[1]

The drums, which are ornamented with metal disks and plates, and covered with transparent reindeer hide, are round in shape and of various sizes. The largest drum seen by Castren was nearly two feet in diameter and two and a half inches in height.[2]

According to Dr. Finsch's description, the drums of the Samoyed and of the Ob-Ostyak are like the Altai drums, round, broadrimmed, covered on one side only, and with a diameter of from 30 cm. to 50 cm.

The shaman's costume consists of a chamois-leather coat called samburzia, ornamented with red cloth. Eyes and face are covered with a piece of cloth, since the tadibey is supposed to penetrate into the spirit-world with his inner sight. Instead of a cap there are two bands round his head to keep the cloth over the face in position. An iron disk hangs on his breast.[3]

In certain places the tadibey uses a cap with a visor, and over the leather coat jingling trinkets and little bells and strips of cloth of various shades are hung. In this ornamentation the number seven plays an important róle.[4]

Among the Lapps, the drum, kannus or kvobdas, which is now but an antiquarian curiosity, played a most important part.[5] It

was made of birch or pine wood, grown if possible in a sunny spot, since such a tree would be acceptable to the sun and the good spirits. There are two kinds of drum. One is composed of a wooden hoop, with two cross-pieces of wood inside covered with hide; the other is an egg-shaped flat box, hollowed out of the trunk of a tree, and also covered with bide. The most significant ornaments are the drawings in red. They represent good and bad spirits, the sun, the stars, various animals, lakes, forests, and men. The division between this world and the upper is clearly shown. Among many other symbolic figures there is also the image of a noyda (shaman). Each drum has its metal ring with small pendants and a drum-stick of reindeer horn.

The Lapps take great care of their drums, and when not in use they and the drum-sticks are wrapped in furs. No woman dares to touch the drum.

CHAPTER XI

THE SHAMAN IN ACTION

SINCE the performances of shamans as professionals called in to treat diseases, to answer inquiries, for soothsaying and other similar purposes, are very much the same among the different tribes of Palaeo-Siberians, we shall confine ourselves to giving a few typical examples of these performances. The same procedure will be followed with regard to the Neo-Siberians.

Palaeo-Siberians.

The Koryak. Professional shamanism among the Koryak is at a most primitive stage of development, yet at the same time, thanks to the influence of European culture, it is also decadent.

Jochelson speaks[1] of the shamanistic performances which he saw as follows: 'During the entire period of my sojourn among the Koryak I had opportunity to see only two shamans. Both were young men, and neither enjoyed special respect on the part of his relatives. Both were poor men who worked as labourers for the rich members of their tribe. One of them was a Maritime Koryak from Alutor. He used to come to the village of Kamenskoye in company with a Koryak trader. He was a bashful youth, his features, though somewhat wild, were flexible and pleasant, and his eyes were bright. I asked him to show me proof of his shamanistic art. Unlike other shamans, he consented without waiting to be coaxed. The people put out the oil-lamps in the underground house in which he stopped with his master. Only a few coals were glowing on the hearth, and it was almost dark in the house. On the large platform which is put up in the front part of the house as the seat and sleeping-place for visitors, and not far from where my wife and I were sitting, we could discern the shaman in an ordinary shaggy shirt of reindeer skin, squatting on the reindeer skins that covered the platform. His face was covered with a large oval drum.

'Suddenly he commenced to beat the drum softly and to sing in a plaintive voice; then the beating of the drum grow stronger and stronger; and his song-in which could be heard sounds imitating the howling of the wolf, the groaning of the cargoose, and the voices of other animals, his guardian spirits-appeared to come, sometimes from the corner nearest to my seat, then from the opposite end, then again from the middle of the house, and then it seemed to proceed from the ceiling. He was a ventriloquist. Shamans versed in this art are believed to possess particular power. His drum also seemed to sound, now over my head, now at my feet, now behind, now in front of me. I could see nothing; but it seemed to me that the shaman was moving around, noiselessly stepping upon the platform with his fur shoes, then retiring to some distance, then coming nearer, lightly jumping, and then squatting down on his heels.

'All of a sudden the sound of the drum and the singing ceased. When the women had relighted their lamps, he was lying, completely exhausted, on a white reindeer skin on which he had been sitting before the shamanistic performance. The concluding words of the shaman, which he pronounced in a recitative, were uttered as though spoken by the spirit whom he had summoned lip, and who declared that the "disease" had left the village, and would not return.'

The other shamanistic ceremony was performed by a shaman at Jochelson's request for the purpose of divining whether he would reach home safely.

During this ceremony[1] the shaman suddenly asked Jochelson for his knife, saying, 'The spirits say that I should cut myself with a knife. You will not be afraid?[2]

Jochelson gave him, not without some scruples, his travelling knife, which was sharp and looked like a dagger. 'The light in the tent was put out; but the dim light of the Arctic spring night
(it was in April), which penetrated the canvas of the tent, was sufficient to allow me to follow the movements of the shaman. He took the knife, beat the drum, and sang, telling the spirits
that he was ready to carry out their wishes. After a little -while he put away the drum, and, emitting a rattling sound from his threat, he thrust the knife into his breast up to the hilt. I noticed, however, that after having cut his jacket, he turned the

knife downwards. He drew out the knife with the same rattling in his throat, and resumed beating the drum.'[1]

Then he said to Jochelson that he would have a good journey, and, returning the knife to him, showed through the hole in his coat the blood on his body. 'Of course, these spots had been made before', says Jochelson.[2] 'However, this cannot be looked upon as mere deception. Things visible and imaginary are confounded to such an extent in primitive consciousness that the shaman himself may have thought that there was, invisible to others, a real gash in his body, as bad been demanded by the spirits. The common Koryak, however, are sure that the shaman actually cuts himself, and that the wound heals up immediately.'

The Chukchee. Among the Chukchee, says Bogors,[3] a typical shamanistic performance is carried on in the inner room of the house, when it is closed for the night. This room, especially among the Reindeer Chukchee, is very small. Sometimes the performance here described is preceded by another, held in the outer room, in daylight, and usually connected with a communal ceremonial.

When the drum is tightened and moistened, and the light is put out, the shaman, who is often quite naked down to the waist, begins to operate.

In modern times Chukchee shamans imitate the Tungus shamans in smoking a pipe filled with strong narcotic tobacco.

The shaman beats the drum and sings tunes; at first slowly, then more rapidly. His songs have no words, and there is no order in their succession. Though the audience take no actual part in the ceremony, they are in fact of some assistance, as forming a very primitive 'chorus'. Their frequent exclamations encourage the shaman's actions.

Without an ocitkolin ('to give answering calls,' participle) a Chukchee shaman considers himself unable to perform his office fittingly; novices, therefore, while trying to learn the shamanistic practices, usually induce a brother or a sister to respond, thus encouraging the zeal of the performer.[4]

'Among the Asiatic Eskimo, the wife and other members of the family form a kind of chorus, which from time to time catches up the tune and sings with the shaman. Among the Russianized Yukaghir of the lower Kolyma, the wife is also the assistant of

her shaman husband, and during the performance she gives him encouraging answers, and he addresses her as his "supporting staff".'[1]

When the kelet come to the shaman, he acts in a different way, according to whether he has or has not a ventriloquistic gift.

If the shaman is only 'single-bodied', the kelet will sing and beat the drum through his body, the sound only of the shaman's voice being changed. When he is a ventriloquist, the kelet appear
as separate voices'.

Bogoras says that shamans could, with credit to themselves, carry on a contest with the best practitioners of similar arts in civilized countries. The voices are successful imitations of different sounds: human, superhuman, animal, even of tempests and winds, or of an echo, and come from all sides of the room; from without, from above, and from underground. The whole of Nature may sometimes be represented in the small inner room of the Chukchee.

Then the spirit either begins to talk or departs with a sound like the buzzing of a fly. While it stays, it beats the drum violently, speaking in its own language, if it happens to be any animal except the wolf, fox, and raven, which can speak in the language of men; but there is a peculiar timbre in their voices.

Usually it is not only one spirit which appears, and this part of the performance might be called a dialogue. Sometimes the shaman does not himself understand the language he is using, and an interpreter is necessary. There are cases when spirit-language, comprising a mixture of Koryak, Yakut, and Yukaghir, has to be translated into Russian for the Russianized shamans and natives, especially those of the Kolyma district.

Jochelson tells of a Tungus shaman nicknamed Mashka, whose 'spirits', being of Koryak origin, spoke through him in that language: 'I asked him several times to dictate to me what his spirits were saying, and he would invaribly reply that he did not remember, that he forgot everything after the seance was over, and that, besides, he did not understand the language of his spirits. At first I thought that be was deceiving me; but I had several opportunities of convincing myself that he really did not understand any Koryak. Evidently he had learned by heart Koryak incantations which he could pronounce only in a state of excitement., [2]

There is no regular shamanist language among the Chukchee, merely a few special expressions.
'Among the north-western branch of the Koryak, the " spirits are said to use a special mode of pronunciation, similar to that used by the south-eastern Koryak and the Chukchee. A few words are also said to be peculiar to them. Among the Asiatic Eskimo the " spirits " are said to have a special language. Many words of it were given me by the shamans, and most of them are analogous to the "spirit" language known to various Eskimo tribes of America, both in Alaska and on the Atlantic side.'[1]

Sometimes the spirits are very mischievous. In the movable tents of the Reindeer people an invisible hand will sometimes turn everything upside down, and throw different objects about, such as snow, pieces of ice, &c.

'I must mention', says Bogoras,[2] 'that the audience is strictly forbidden to make any attempts whatever to touch the "spirits". These latter highly resent any intrusion of this kind, and retaliate either on the shaman, whom they may kill on the spot, or on the trespassing listener, who runs the risk of having his head broken, or even a knife thrust through his ribs in the dark. I received warnings of this kind at almost every shamanistic performance.'

After the preliminary intercourse with the 'spirits', the shaman, still in the dark, gives advice and utters prophecies. For example, at one ceremony, where Bogoras was present, the shaman Galmuurgin prophesied to his host that many wild reindeer would be at his gate the following autumn. 'One buck', he said, 'will stop on the right side of the entrance, and pluck at the grass, attracted by a certain doe of dark-grey hair. This attraction must be strengthened with a special incantation. The reindeer-buck, while standing there, must be killed with the bow, and the arrow to be used must have a flat rhomboid point. This will secure the successful killing of all the other wild reindeer.' [3]

After his introductory interview with the spirits, the shaman sometimes 'sinks'; he falls to the ground unconscious, while his soul is wandering in the other worlds, talking with the 'spirits' and asking them for advice. The modern shamans actually 'sink' very seldom, but they know that it was done in the old days.

When shamanistic performances are connected with ceremonials, they are carried on in the outer room. Ventriloquism is not

practised on these occasions, and the kele 'is bent on mischief, and among other things, seeks to destroy the life which is under his temporary power." Many tricks are performed by shamans even in daylight.

Upune, the wife of a dead Chukchee shaman, possessed wonderful shamanistic power; she herself declared that she had only a small part of her husband's ability. In a shamanistic performance 'she took a large round pebble of the size of a man's fist, set it upon the drum, and, blowing upon it from all sides, began to mumble and snort in the same kele-like manner. She called our attention by signs-being in the possession of the kele, she had lost the faculty of human speech-and then began to wring the pebble with both hands. Then a continuous row of very small pebbles began to fall from her hands. This lasted for fully five minutes, till quite a heap of small pebbles had collected below, on the skin. The larger pebble, however, remained smooth and intact."

At the request of Bogoras the female shaman repeated this feat with the same success, and all the upper part of the body being naked, it was easy to observe her movements. The practice of stabbing oneself through the abdomen with a knife is universal in shamanistic performances; Kamchadal and Eskimo, Chukchee and Yukaghir, even the Neo-Siberian shamans of northern Asia, are familiar with this trick.

It would be difficult to describe all the tricks performed by the shamans: some of the commonest are the swallowing of burning coals,[3] setting oneself free from a cord by which one is bound, &c.

Neo-Siberians.

The Yakut. For comparison with the Palaeo-Siberian methods of shamanizing, we shall take a Yakut shaman in action, as described by Sieroszwski.[4] 'Outwardly, shamanistic ceremonies are very uniform,' says Sieroszewski. The ceremony now described 'is the part of the shamanistic ceremony which remains always and everywhere unchanged, and, sanctioned by custom, forms, so to speak, the basis of the rite.'

When the shaman who has been called to a sick person enters the yurta, he at once takes the place destined for him on the

[1.Op. cit., p. 442.

2. Op. cit., p. 444.

3. Satrytcheff, The Voyage of Capt. Sarytcheff's Fleet along the N.E. Coast of Siberia, through The Polar Sea and the Pacific, p. 30.

4. Sieroszewski, 12 Lat w Kraju Yakutów, 1902, p. 639.]

billiryk agon. He lies on his white mare's skin and waits for the night, the time when it is possible to shamanize. Meanwhile he is entertained with food and drink.

'When the sun sets and the dusk of evening approaches, all preparations for the ceremony in the yurta are hurriedly completed: the ground is swept, the wood is cut, and food is provided in larger quantity and of better quality than usual. One by one the neighbours arrive and seat themselves along the wall, the men on the right, and the women on the left; the conversation is peculiarly serious and reserved,, the movements gentle.

'In the northern part of the Yakut district the host chooses the best latchets and forms them into a loop, which is placed round the shaman's shoulders and bold by one of those present during the dance, in order to prevent the spirits from carrying him off. At length every one has supper, and the household takes some rest. The shaman, sitting on the edge of the billiryk, slowly untwists his tresses, muttering and giving orders. He sometimes has a nervous and artificial hiccough which makes his whole body shake; his gaze does not wander, his eyes being fixed on one point, usually on the fire.

'The fire is allowed to die out. More and more deeply the dusk descends on the room; voices are hushed, and the company talks in whispers; notice is given that anybody -wishing to go out must do so at once, because soon the door will be closed, after which nobody can either go out or come in.

'The shaman slowly takes off his shirt and puts on his wizard's coat, or, failing that, he takes the woman's coat called sangyniah.[1] Then he is given a pipe, which he smokes for a long time, swallowing the smoke; his hiccough becomes louder, he shivers more violently. When he - has finished smoking, his face is pale, his head falls on his breast, his eyes are half-closed.

'At this point the white mare's skin is placed in the middle of the room. The shaman asks for cold water, and when he has drunk it he slowly holds out his hand for the drum prepared for him; he then walks to the middle of the room, and, kneeling for a time on his right knee, bows solemnly to all the four corners of the world, at the same time sprinkling the ground about him with the water from his mouth.

[1. Gmelin speaks of special embroidered stockings which the shaman, dons in the yurta. (Reise durch Sibirien, pp. 351-6.)]

'Now everything is silent. A handful of white horsehair is thrown on the fire, putting it quite out; in the faint gleam of the red coals the black motionless figure of the shaman is still to be seen for a while, with drooping bead, big drum on breast, and face turned towards the south, as is also the head of the mare's skin upon which he is sitting.

Complete darkness follows the dusk; the audience scarcely breathes, and only the unintelligible mutterings and hiccoughs of the shaman can be heard; gradually even this sinks into a profound silence. Eventually a single great yawn like the clang of iron breaks the stillness, followed by the loud piercing cry of a falcon, or the plaintive weeping of a seamew-then silence again.

'Only the gentle sound of the voice of the drum, like the humming of a gnat, announces that the shaman has begun to play.

'This music is at first soft. delicate, tender, then rough and irrepressible like the roar of an oncoming storm. It grows louder and louder and, like peals of thunder, wild shouts rend the air; the crow calls, the grebe laughs, the seamews complain, snipes whistle, eagles and hawks scream.'

'The [1] music swells and rises to the highest pitch, the beating of the drum becomes more and more vigorous, until the two sounds combine in one long-drawn crescendo. The numberless small bells ring and clang; it is not a storm-it is a whole cascade of sounds, enough to overwhelm all the listeners.... All at once it breaks off-there are one or two strong beats on the drum, which, hitherto held aloft, now falls to the shaman's knees. Suddenly the sound of the drum and the small bells ceases. Then silence for a long moment, while the gentle gnat-like murmur of the drum begins again.'

This may be repeated several times, according to the degree of the shaman's inspiration; at last, when the music takes on a certain new rhythm and melody, sombrely the voice of the shaman chants the following obscure fragments:

1. 'Mighty bull of the earth . . . Horse of the steppes!'
2. 'I, the mighty bull . . . bellow!'
3. 'I, the horse of the steppes . . . neigh!'
4. 'I, the man set above all other beings!'
5. 'I, the man most gifted of all!'
6. 'I, the man created by the master all-powerful!
7. 'Horse of the steppes, appear! teach me!'
8. 'Enchanted bull of the earth, appear! speak to me!'
9. 'Powerful master, command me!'
10. 'All of you, who will go with me, give heed with your ears! Those whom I command not. follow me not!'
11. 'Approach not nearer than is permitted! Look intently! Give heed ! Have a care!'
12. 'Look heedfully! Do this, all of you . all together . . . all, however many you may be!'
13. 'Thou of the left side, O lady with thy staff, if anything be done amiss, if I take not the right way, I entreat you - correct me! Command! . . .'
14. 'My errors and my path show to me! O mother of mine! Wing thy free flight! Pave my wide roadway!'
15. 'Souls of the sun, mothers of the sun, living in the south, in the nine wooded hills, ye who shall be jealous . . . I adjure you all . . . let them stay . . . let your three shadows stand high!'
16. 'In the East, on your mountain, lord, grandsire of mine. great of power and thick of neck-be thou with me!'
17. 'And thou, grey-bearded wizard (fire), I ask thee: with all my dreams, 'with all comply! To all my desires consent . . . Heed all! Fulfil all! . . . All heed . . . All fulfil!'[1]

At this point the sounds of the drum are heard once more, once more wild shouts and meaningless words-then all is silent.

Adjurations similar to the above are used in all the Yakut districts and all ceremonies begin with them. There is, however, another formula still longer and more complicated, which Sieroszewski says he could not procure. The ritual which follows this formula consists of an improvisation appropriate to each person and occasion.

In the ensuing prayers the shaman addresses his ämägyat and other protective 'spirits'; be talks with the kaliany, asks them questions, and gives answers in their names. Sometimes the shaman must pray and beat the drum a long time before the spirits come; often their appearance is so sudden and so impetuous that the shaman is overcome and falls down. It is a good sign if he falls on his face, and a bad sign if he falls on his back.

'When the ämägyat comes down to a shaman, he arises and

begins to leap and dance, at first on the skin, and then, his movements becoming more rapid, he glides into the middle of the room. Wood is quickly piled on the fire, and the light spreads through the yurta, which is now full of noise and movement. The shaman dances, sings, and beats the drum uninterruptedly, jumps about furiously, turning his face to the south, then to the -west, then to the east. Those who hold him by the leather thongs sometimes have great difficulty in controlling his movements. In the south Yakut district, however, the shaman dances unfettered. Indeed, he often gives up his drum so as to be able to dance more unrestrainedly.

'The head of the shaman is bowed, his eyes are half-closed his hair is tumbled and in wild disorder lies on his sweating face, his mouth is twisted strangely, saliva streams down his chin, often he foamgs at the mouth.

'He moves round the room, advancing and retreating, beating the drum, which resounds no less wildly than the roaring of the shaman himself; he shakes his jingling coat, and seems to become more and more maniacal, intoxicated with the noise and movement.

'His fury ebbs and rises like a wave; sometimes it leaves him for a while, and then, holding his drum high above his head, solemnly and calmly he chants a prayer and summons the "spirit".

'At last he knows all he desires; be is acquainted with the cause of the misfortune or disease with which be has been striving; he is sure of the help of the beings whose aid he needs. Circling about in his dance, singing and playing, be approaches the patient.

'With new objurgations be drives away the cause of the illness by frightening it, or by sucking it out with his mouth from the painful place: then, returning to the middle of the room, he drives it away by spitting and blowing. Then he learns what sacrifice is to be made to the "powerful spirits", for this harsh treatment of the spirit's servant, who was sent to the patient.

'Then the shaman, shading his eyes from the light with his hands, looks attentively into each corner of the room; and if he notices anything suspicious, he again beats the drum, dances, wakes terrifying gestures, and entreats the " spirits ".

'At length all is made clean, the suspicious "cloud" is no more to be seen, which signifies that the cause of the trouble has been driven out; the sacrifice is accepted, the prayers have been heard-the ceremony is over.

'The shaman still retains for some time after this the gift of prophecy; he foretells various happenings, answers the questions of the curious, or relates what he saw on his journey away from the earth.

'Finally he is carried with his mare's skin back to his place of honour on the billiryk'.[1]

The sacrifice offered to the 'spirits' varies according to the importance of the occasion. Sometimes the disease is transferred to the cattle, and the stricken cattle are then sacrificed, i. e. ascend to the sky.[2] It is this journey to the sky, together with the spirits and the sacrificed animal, which the dance symbolizes. In the old days (according to the native accounts) there were, in fact, shamans who really did ascend into the sky while the spectators saw how 'on the clouds there floated the sacrificed animal, after it sped the drum of the shaman, and this was followed by the shaman himself in his wizard's coat'.[3]

There were also wicked and powerful shamans who, instead of a real animal, carried up into the sky a mare formed of cloud, but the evidence for the existence of these shamans is indefinite.
During this difficult and dangerous journey every shaman has his places of rest, called ouokh (olokh); when he takes a seat during the dance, this signifies that he has come to an ouokh;[4] when he rises, he is ascending further tip into the sky; if he falls down, he is descending under the earth.

Every shaman, however far be may have proceeded on his journey, knows where he is, on which ouoloh, and also the route taken by every other shaman who is shamanizing at that moment.
Sometimes the leading of the ' spirit' and the sacrificed cattle into the sky forms a separate ceremony performed a few months after the first, in which they had promised this sacrifice. The sacrifices are either bloody, when the shaman tears to pieces the

body of the animal with rage and fury, or bloodless; e. g. when some grease or meat, or other material, such as hair, &c., is offered up.

The Samoyed. The shamanistic ceremonial among the Samoyed of the Tomsk Government has been described by Castren,[1] from whose account we take the following picture.

On arriving at the yurta the shaman takes his seat on a bench, or on a chest which must contain no implement capable of inflicting a wound. Near him, but not in front, the occupants of the yurta group themselves. The shaman faces the door, and pretends to be unconscious of all sights and sounds. In his right band he holds a short staff which is inscribed on one side with mystic symbols; and in his left, two arrows with the points held upwards. To each point is affixed a small bell. His dress has nothing distinctive of a shaman; he usually wears the coat either of the inquirer or of the sick person. The performance begins with a song summoning the spirits. Then the shaman strikes the arrows with his staff, so that the bells chime in a regular rhythm, while all the spectators sit in awed silence. When the spirits appear, the shaman rises and commences to dance. The dance is followed by a series of complicated and difficult body-movements. While all this is going on the rhythmical chiming of the bells never ceases. His song consists of a sort of dialogue with the spirits, and is sung with changes of intonation denoting different degrees of excitement or enthusiasm. When his enthusiasm rises to a high pitch, those present join in the singing. After the shaman has learnt all he wishes from the spirits, the latter communicate the will of the god to the people. If he is to foretell the future, he employs his staff. He throws it on the ground, and if it falls with the side inscribed with mystical signs turned upward, this is a good omen; if the blank side shows, ill-fortune may be looked for.

To prove his trustworthiness to those present, the shaman uses the following means. He sits on a reindeer skin, and his hands and feet are bound, The room is completely darkened. Then, as if in answer to his call to the spirits, various noises are heard both Within and without the yurta: the beating of a drum, the grunting of a bear, the hissing of a serpent, the squeak of a squirrel, and mysterious scratchings on the reindeer-skin where he sits. Then

[1. Castren, Reiseberichte und Briefe, 1845-9. pp. 172-4.]

the shaman's bonds are untied, he is set free, and every one is convinced that what they heard was the work of the spirits.

The Altaians. The kams (shamans) of the Turkic tribes of the Altai have preserved with great strictness the ancient shamanistic ceremonial forms. Potanin[1] gives a curious description of the performance of a young shaman, Enchu, who lived by the River Talda, about six versts from Anguday. Four stages, each marked by a different posture of the shaman, characterized his performance: in the first, he was sitting and facing the fire; second, standing, with his back to the fire; third, a sort of interlude, during which the shaman rested from his labour, supporting himself with his elbow on the drum, which he balanced on its rim, while he related what he had learned in his intercourse with the spirits; and fourth, a final shamanizing, with his back to the fire, and facing the place where the drum usually hangs. Enchu declared afterwards that he had no recollection of what happened while he was shamanizing with his back turned to the fire. While he was in that position he had been whirling about madly in circles on one spot, and without any considerable movement of his feet; crouching down on his haunches, and rising again to a standing posture, without interrupting the rotating movement. As he alternately bent and straightened his body from the hips, backwards and forwards and from side to side, with lively movements or jerks, the manyak (metal pendants) fastened to his coat danced and dangled furiously in ill directions, describing shining circles in the air. At the same time the shaman kept beating his drum, holding it in various positions so that it gave out different sounds. From time to time Enchu held the drum high above his head in a horizontal position and beat upon it from below. The natives of Anguday explained to Potanin that when the shaman held the drum in that way, he was collecting spirits in it. At times he would talk and laugh with some one apparently near by, but invisible to others, showing in this manner that he was in the company of spirits. At one time Enchu fell to singing more, quietly and evenly, simultaneously imitating on his drum the hoof-beats of a horse. This was to indicate that the shaman, with his accompanying spirits, was departing to the underworld of Erlik, the god of darkness.

Mr. Potanin gives a description of this voyage which he heard from a Russian missionary, Mr. Chivalkoff.

The kam directs his way towards the south. The has to cross the Altai Mountains and the red sands of the Chinese deserts. Then he crosses a yellow steppe, such as no magpie can traverse. ''Singing, we shall cross it', says the kam in his Song. After the yellow steppe there is a 'pale' one, such as no crow can pass over, and the kam in his imaginary passage once more sings a song full of hopeful courage. Then comes the iron mountain of Tamir Shayha, which 'leans against the sky'. Now the kam exhorts his train to be all of one mind, that they may pass this barrier by the united force of their will. He describes the difficulty of surmounting the passes and, in doing so, breathes heavily. On the top he finds the bones of many kams who have fallen here and died through failure of power. Again he sings songs of hope, declares he will leap over the mountain, and suits the action to the word. At last he comes towards the opening which leads to the underworld. Here he finds a sea, bridged only by a hair. To show the difficulty of crossing this bridge, the kam totters, almost falls, and with difficulty recovers himself. In the depths of the sea he beholds the bodies of many sinful kams who have perished there, for only those who are blameless can cross this bridge. On the other side he meets sinners who are receiving punishment suited to their faults; e.g. an eavesdropper is pinned by his ear to a stake. On reaching the dwelling-place of Erlik, he is confronted by dogs, who will not let him pass, but at last, being appeased by gifts, they grow milder. Before the beginning of the shamanistic ceremony gifts have been prepared for this emergency. Having successfully passed these warders, the kam, as if approaching the Yarta of Erlik and coming into his presence, bows, brings his drum up to his forehead, and says, 'Mergu! mergu!' Then he declares whence and why he comes. Suddenly he shouts; this is meant to indicate that Erlik is angry that a mortal should dare to enter his yurta. The frightened kam leaps backward towards the door, but gathers fresh courage and again approaches Erlik's throne. After this performance has been gone through three times, Erlik speaks: 'Winged creatures cannot fly hither, beings with bones cannot come: how have you, ill-smelling blackbeetle, made your way to my abode?'

Then the kam stoops and with his drum makes certain movements if dipping up wine. He presents the wine to Erlik; and makes a shuddering movement like that of one who drinks strong wine, to indicate, that Erlik has drunk. When he perceives that Erlik's humour is somewhat milder tinder the influence of his draught he makes him offerings of gifts. The great spirit (Erlik) is moved by the offerings of the kam, and promises increase of cattle, declares which mare will foal, and even specifies what marking the young one will have. The kam returns in high spirits, not on his horse as he went, but on a goose-a change of steeds which he indicates by moving about the yurta on tiptoe, to represent flying.

CHAPTER XII

SHAMANISM AND SEX.

IN this chapter I propose to deal not only with the male and female shamans and their relation to each other, but also with it curious phenomenon-the mystical change of sex among shamans, by which a male shaman is 'transformed' into a female, and vice versa.

Nearly all writers on Siberia agree that the position of the female shaman in modern days is sometimes even more important than that occupied by the male.

Krasheninnikoff ascribes the shamanistic gift among the Kamchadal almost exclusively to women; Steller, who travelled through Kamchatka after him, states, however, that there were also men-shamans among the Yukaghir, Koryak, and Chukchee. Bogoras, Jochelson, and others saw as many notable women shamans as men. Tretyakoff (op. cit., p. 213) affirms the existence of women-shamans side by side with men-shamans among the Samoyed of Turukhan, and the same, according to Bielayewski,[1] is true of the Ostyak. Among the Tungus of Baikal [2] the woman can be a shaman as well as the man; and Gmelin [3] met among them a woman eighteen years of age who was held superior to any man-shaman. Among the Yakut and Buryat there are shamans of both sexes.[4] Solovieff [5] thinks that among the Yakut the female shamans are considered less important than the male, and the people ask their help only when there is no man-shaman in the neighbourhood. The shamanesses, according to him, are especially good in foretelling the future, looking for things that are lost, and curing mental diseases,

Among the Palaeo-Siberians, women receive the gift of shamanizing more often than men. The woman is by nature a shaman,'

declared a Chukchee shaman to Bogoras. She does not need to be specially prepared for the calling and so her novitiate is much shorter and less trying. Ventrioloquism, however, is not practised among female shamans.

Taking into account the present prominent position of female shamans among many Siberian tribes and their place in traditions,' together with certain feminine attributes of the male shaman (such as dress, habits, privileges) and certain linguistic similarities between the names for male and female shamans,[2] many scientists (Troshchanski, Bogoras, Stadling) have been led to express the opinion that in former days, only female shamans existed, and that the male. shaman is a later development which has to some extent supplanted them.

Concerning the supposed evolution of the shaman from female to male There is no certain knowledge; one can only surmise. The different views of the origin of shamanism naturally affect the theory that shamans were originally female.

Jochelson [1] expresses the opinion that there is no doubt that professional shamanism has developed from the ceremonials of family shamanism. The same author [2] also states that in family shamanism among the Koryak some women possess a knowledge not only of those incantations which are a family secret, but of many others besides, of which they make use outside the family circle on request. From this we can see very clearly how family shamanism among the Koryak has developed into professional shamanism.

Some one with unusual gifts, often a woman, is requested to use them on behalf of a larger circle outside the family, and thus becomes a professional shaman. This is especially true of the Koryak. There is, however, no evidence that among them the woman-shaman preceded the man. In the old days, as at the present time, the women-shamans were considered as powerful as the men, sometimes, indeed, an individual female shaman is even cleverer than a man. The 'transformed' shamans are considered very powerful also, though they exist merely in Koryak traditions. But since the change of sex is 'in obedience to the commands of Spirits',[3] it seems to belong to another category of facts and to have no connexion with the theory of an originally universal feminine shamanism.

Among the Chukchee [4] family shamanism, being quite simple and primitive, probably preceded individual shamanism, and the latter seems to have grown out of the former. The mother shares with the father the róle of shaman in the family ceremonials; she has charge of the drum and amulets, and in exceptional cases it is she, and not the father, who performs the family sacrifice. Thus shamanism is not restricted to either sex, but 'the gift of inspiration is thought to be bestowed more frequently upon women, though it is reputed to be of a rather inferior kind, the higher grades belonging rather to men. The reason given for this is that the bearing of children is generally adverse to shamanistic inspirations, so that a young woman with considerable shamanistic power may lose the greater part of it after the birth of her first child.'[5]

The above statenients of the two best authorities on the Koryak and the Chukchee make it clear that among these people there are visible traces that fainily shamanism preceded the individual,

or professional, kind; and although woman plays an important róle in both, there is no sufficient reason to suppose that in former times she alone could shamanize. Of course, the adherents to the theory of universal mother-right would try to see in this case a proof of the former higher position of woman in society, her moral supremacy, &c. As far as our materials go, we do not see evidence either of a superior position in the social structure or of the moral supremacy of women in these societies, but only of the superiority of individuals of either sex.

A similar state of things may be observed among other Palaeo-Siberians and Neo-Siberians, although among the latter a woman shaman is not very often met with.

In spite of the low social position of women among these natives, it is personal ability, irrespective of sex, which is the decisive factor in the case of the shamanistic vocation.

As proof that women were the original shamans, certain authors adduce the fact that the professional shaman does not possess his own drum. But neither is this the case with women or men-shamans among those peoples where professional shamanism is not yet clearly differentiated from family shamanism. As regards the female dress and habits of the shaman, I shall have opportunity to discuss this point when dealing with tribes whose shaman's garment is more elaborate, i.e. the Neo-Siberians.

Troshchanski [1] and, following him, Stadling [2] believe professional shamanism to be a special institution which has no direct connexion with the communal cult, though in the latter there are also shamanistic elements. In the later stages of its development the office of shaman is connected in certain cases with the communal cult, and thus 'white' shamanism came into existence. Troshchanski develops his theory chiefly on Yakut evidence, and though he tries to apply it to the whole of Siberia, we shall confine ourselves to what he says about the Yakut.[3]

Among them, where there are two categories of shamans, the white', representing creative, and the 'black', destructive forces, the latter tend to behave like women, since it is from women-shamans that they derive their origin. In support of this theory of their origin Troshchanski puts forward the following arguments:

1. The shaman has on his coat two iron circles representing the breasts.

2. He parts his hair in the middle like a woman, and braids it, letting it fall loose during the shamanistic ceremony.

3. In the Kolyma district neither a woman nor a shaman lies on the right side of the horse-skin in the yurta, because, as they say, it is on this side that one beats a horse.

4. It is only on very important occasions that the shaman wears his own garment; on lesser occasion's he wears a girl's jacket made of foal's hide.[1]

5. For three days after the birth of a child, at which the goddess of fecundity, Aiasyt, is present, no man may enter the room where the mother is lying, but only women and shamans.

Finally, according to Troshchanski, the female 'black' shaman was replaced by the male 'black' shaman. This transition was effected by means of the smith, who, as the maker of the woman-shaman's garment, held an influential position, and whose power increased in proportion to the length of his ancestry.[2] Through their contact with shamanistic implements they acquired mana and themselves became sorcerers and shamans.

The evolution of the 'white' shaman took place, he opines, on different lines. In family ceremonial the cleverest head of a family or member of a community was chosen; he was elected anew for each ceremony until eventually his tenure of the office became permanent.[3]

This theory of a dual evolution of shamans is not easy to substantiate. In the first place, we find that the 'white' shaman's garment is made by a 'white' smith; which fact, by Trosbehanski's mode of argument, would seem to imply a line of development for 'white' shamanism parallel to, and not divergent from, that of 'black' shamanism.

Again, all the supposed feminine habits of the shaman of today would not go to prove that the earlier female-shaman was the servant of abassy alone. We find in the past as well as in the present that the woman can be the priestess of the family cult and a professional shamaness, the servant of either aïy or abassy. Among the Yakut, however, where the worship of abassy is more developed than that of aïy, the 'black' shamans, both men and

women, predominate. On the other hand, among the Votyaks, where the cult aïy of is more developed than that of abassy, the 'white' shamans are much more numerous, and form the whole hierarchy.[1]

All that has been cited concerning the feminine habits of the present-day shaman was taken by Troshchanski as proof of his theory of the evolution of the 'black' shaman from the 'black' shamaness and by Jochelson as 'traces of the change of a shaman's sex into that of a woman'.[2]

Jochelson thus binds together the two questions dealt with in this chapter-the relation of the shamaness to the shaman', and the 'transformation of shamans', called also 'the change of sex'. This latter phenomenon, following J. G. Frazer,[3] I should prefer to call 'the change of dress', since (with the exception of the Chukchee, perhaps) the change of dress is not nowadays, at least, followed by what the physiologists would call 'change of sex'.

Frazer [4] says that the interchange of dress between men and women is an obscure and complex problem, and thinks it unlikely that any single solution would be applicable to all cases. In enumerating instances of such cases among the priests of Khasis[5] and the Pelew Islanders[6]-instances, that is, of men dressing and acting like women throughout life-he ascribes these phenomena to the inspiration of a female spirit, which often chooses a man rather than a woman for her minister and inspired mouthpiece.[7]

As to the people of Siberia, the 'change of sex' is found chiefly among Palaeo-Siberians, namely the Chukchee, Koryak, Kamchadal, and Asiatic Eskimo.'[8]

Even the earliest travellers record instances of this phenomenon. Thus Krasheninnikoff in 1755,[9] Steller in 1774,[10] Wrangel

in 1820,[1] Lüdke in 1837,[2] and others. They do not give complete accounts, but merely mention the fact. It differs, however, in their description from ordinary homosexualism in that there is always reference to shamanistic inspiration or evil biddings.

More detailed descriptions are to be found in the excellent modern works of Bogoras and Jochelson. Bogoras describes the facts relating to the Chukchee in a chapter on 'Sexual Perversion and Transformed Shamans'.

'The sexual organs play a part in certain shamanistic ceremonies,' says Bogoras.[3] The shaman is said to be very often naked during his incantations, e.g. that used to invoke the moon, and to mention his genital parts.[4] The change of sex is called in Chukchee 'soft-man-being', yirka-laul-vairgin, 'soft man' (yirka-laul) meaning a man transformed into a being of the weaker sex. A man who has 'changed his sex' is also called 'similar to a woman' (ne uchica), and a woman in like condition 'similar to a man' (qa cikcheca). These latter transformations are much rarer.

Bogoras distinguishes various degrees of 'transformation' among the Chukchee:

1. The shaman, or the sick person at the bidding of a shaman, arranges and braids his hair like a woman.

2. The change of dress: Kimiqai, for instance, were woman's clothes by order of the spirits. In his youth he had been afflicted by in illness and had been greatly benefited by the change of dress. At the time described he was an elderly man with a beard, and had a wife and four children.[5]

3. The change in the habits of one sex is shown when the man 'throws away the rifle and the lance, the lasso of the reindeer herdman, and the harpoon of the seal-hunter, and takes to the needle and the skin-scraper '.[6] He learns the use of these quickly, because the 'spirits' help him all the time. Even his pronunciation changes from masculine to feminine. His body loses its masculine appearance, and he becomes shy.

4. In rare cases the 'soft man' begins to feel himself a woman; he seeks for a lover, and sometimes marries.

The marriage is performed with the usual rites, and the union is as durable as any other. The 'man' goes hunting and fishing, the 'woman' does domestic work. Bogoras thinks they cohabit modo Socratis, though they are sometimes said to have mistresses in secret and to produce children by them.[1] The wife does not, however, change her name, though the husband sometimes adds the name of his wife to his own.

Public opinion is always against them,[2] but as the transformed shamans are very dangerous, they are not opposed and no outward objections are raised. Each 'soft man' is supposed to have a special protector among the 'spirits', who is usually said to play the part of a supernatural husband, the 'kele-husband' of the 'transformed' one. This husband is supposed to be the real head of the family and to communicate his orders by means of his 'transformed' wife. The human husband, of course, has to execute these orders faithfully under fear of prompt punishment.[3]

Sometimes the shaman of untransformed sex has a 'kele-wife' in addition to his own.

Bogoras himself was best acquainted with a 'soft man' called Tiluwgi, who, however, would not allow himself to be inspected fully. His human husband described him as a normal male person. In spite of this, his habits were those of a woman. The husband of Tiluwgi was an ordinary man and his cousin. The 'transformed shamans' generally chose a husband from among their nearest relations.

Bogoras never met a woman transformed into a man, but he heard of several cases. One transformed shamaness was a widow, who had children of her own. Following the command of the 'spirits', she cut her hair, donned the dress of a man, adopted the masculine pronunciation, and even learned in a very short time to handle the spear and to shoot with a rifle. At last she wanted to marry and easily found a young girl who consented to become her wife.[4]

Jochelson [5] states that he did not learn of the transformation of women-shamans into men among the Koryak of to-day; we find, however, accounts of such transformation in legends. Neither did he meet any men-shamans transformed into women.

'The father of Yulta, a Koryak from the village of Kainenskoye, who died not long ago and who had been a shaman, had worn

women's clothes for two years by order of the spirits; but since he had been unable to obtain complete transformation he implored his spirits to permit him to resume men's clothes. His request was granted, but on condition that he should put on women's clothes during shamanistic ceremonies.[1]

This is, the only case familiar to Jochelson of the change of sex, or rather change of dress. The Koryak call the transformed shaman kavau or keveu; they are supposed to be as powerful as women-shamans.

The narratives concerning the Kamchadal kockchuch are much confused, for Krasheninnikoff does not rightly explain either who they were, or whether they were men or women. The kockchuch were women's dress, did women's work, and were treated with the same lack of respect as is shown to women. They could enter the house through the draught-channel, which corresponds to the opening in the roof of the porch of the Koryak underground house,[2] in the same way as the women and the Koryak qavau. Piekarski[3] finds that Krasheninnikoff contradicts himself in his statements concerning 'koekchuch women, who do not come into contact with men'.

Krasheninnikoff's descriptions of koekchuch are as follows: 'The Kamchadal have one, two, or three wives, and besides these some of them keep koekchuch who wear women's clothes, do women's work, and have nothing to do with men, in whose company they feel shy and not at their ease' (p. 24, ed. 1755).

'The Kamchadal women are tailors and shoemakers, which professions are considered useless to men, who are immediately regarded as kockchuch if they enter these vocations' (p. 40, ed. 1755).

'The women are not jealous, for not only do two or three wives of one man live together in peace, but they do not even object to the kockchuch, whom some Kamchadal keep instead of concubines' (p. 125, ed. 1755). 'Every woman, especially an old one, and every kockchuch, is a sorcerer and interpreter of dreams' (p. 81, ed. 1755).[4]

From the above quotations the koekchuch seem rather to be of

the eunuch type, though sometimes they play the role of concubines.

The kockchuch who was regarded by the community as being of an unusual type probably enjoyed special privileges higher than those of a sorcerer or a shaman. The worship of the pathological may have verged here into the worship of the supernatural.

The 'change of sex' is met with only among the Palaeo-Siberians,[1] whilst among the Neo-Siberians only does the shamanistic dress more often resemble female garments. It is true that among Yakut men-shamans traditions exist of their bearing children,[2] but this is connected rather with the idea of the power of shamanistic spirits which makes such miracles possible. As a rule, child-birth among the Palaeo-Siberian shamanesses results in either a complete or at least a temporary loss of the shamanistic gift. In a Koryak tale [3] the shanianistic power of Ememqut, son of Big-Raven, 'disappeared after the mythical Triton had bewitched him and caused him to give birth to a boy. His power was restored to him after his sister had killed the Triton's sister, by which deed the act of giving birth was completely eliminated.'

We observe also that in many Siberian communities a woman shaman is not permitted to touch the drum.

The question of the change of sex, especially as it concerns the most powerful shamans, cannot be explained on a purely physical basis. Several perversions occur among these people, as they do in all primitive and even in more civilized societies; but it does not follow that every pathological individual is the subject of magical worship. On the contrary, when reading the detailed description of the transformed shamans in Bogoras and Jochelson, we see that in nearly every case these shamans are at first normal people and only later, by inspiration of spirits, have to change their sex. As described in previous pages, some of them have secretly, along with an official husband of the same sex, normal sexual relations with a person of the other sex, and we may even assume that some of them actually became sexless, although in certain cases the outward show required by religious considerations may cover abnormal passions.

It is scarcely possible to see in these cases a religious conception

of a divine two-sexed shaman embodying in one being a perfect man- and woman-nature. We do not find such gods or spirits among the Palaeo-Siberians, though we encounter this idea among the more advanced Neo-Siberians. In the religion of the natives of the Altai this idea is expressed by the name 'mother and father of the man', given to the Supreme Being.

It may be that the most satisfactory basis for an attempt at the solution of this problem would be the sociological one.

The extraordinary rights granted by the community to the shaman are clearly evident in the exceptional position he occupies. Shamans (male and female) may do what is not permitted to others, and indeed they must act differently, because they have a supernatural power recognized by the community.[1]

Taking some of the characteristics ascribed to shamans in previous chapters, we see that, inspired by the spirits, 'they may cut and otherwise injure their bodies without suffering harm.'[2] They may, during shamanistic performances, 'ascend to the sky together with the shaman's drum and sacrificial animal.'[3]

They may give birth to a child, a bird, a frog, &c.,[4] and they may change their sex if they are 'real shamans', with supernatural powers, with a true vocation.

Socially, the shaman does not belong either to the class of males or to that of females, but to a third class, that of shamans. Sexually, he may be sexless, or ascetic, or have inclinations of homosexualistic character, but he may also be quite normal. And so, forming a special class, shamans have special taboos comprising both male and female characters. The same may be said of their costume, which combines features peculiar to the dress of both sexes.

The woman-shaman is not restricted to taboos specifically female, for her social position is much higher than that of the ordinary woman: whilst purely male taboos are not applied to the man-shaman, who has, together with certain male taboos, some privileges of a woman; e.g. among the Yakut, access to the house of lying-in women during the first three days after the birth of a child.

Shamanhood is separated from society by a boundary-line of many taboos. When the shaman cannot keep these taboos he or she ceases to be a shaman; e. g. the woman during the period of child-birth and menstruation, when she again belongs to the community of women.

The class of shamans, in which the woman acquires certain attributes of a man, and the man certain attributes of a woman, seems in Siberia to be independent of father- or mother-right. It
would be interesting to ascertain whether the 'spirits' inspiring the change of sex are of opposed sexes, as was suggested by J. G. Frazer.' [1]

The shaman class, through the exclusion of its members from both the male and the female sections of society, may in some cases be pathological, but this is in no sense a significant or indispensable characteristic, since in the only instances where the 'marriage' of transformed shamans with persons of the same sex has been observed in our time (i.e. among the Chukchee) it is always disapproved by public opinion.[2]

The magico-religious and sociological explanation of the change of dress among shamans does not, however, apply satisfactorily to the koekchuch, for professional shamanism among the Kamchadal was not organized and developed to the point of producing a distinct section of society inspired by shamanistic spirits. Neither does this explanation cover cases in which men are dressed in women's costume without being shamans at all. Perhaps we may here find aid in the suggestions put forward by Mr. Crawley:[3] in treating of the belief, very widespread among primitive peoples, in the possibility of the transmission of feminine qualities, especially weakness, by contagion. He cites

many instances of 'the custom of degrading the cowardly, infirm, and conquered to the position of females' by putting women's clothes on them. Quoting from L. Morgan (The League of The Iroquois, p. 16) he says: 'When the Delawares were denationalized by the Iroquois and prohibited from going out to war, they were, according to the Indian notion, "made women", and were henceforth to confine themselves to the pursuits appropriate to women.' Is it not reasonable to suppose that we have in the koekuch of the Kamchadal simply another instance of a similar practice, especially when we consider the accounts given by Jochelson, Bogoras, and others of the treatment of slaves among some other Palaeo-Siberians? The object aimed at in the -treatment referred to by Mr. Crawley is the weakening to the point of emasculation of the character of enemies held captive or in subjection, so as to reduce their capacity for working mischief to the conquerors to a minimum. Jochelown, speaking of slavery as it formerly existed among the Yukaghir, says: 'The slave (captive) stayed in the house with the women . . . and did the housework on equal terms with the women." He makes a similar statement about the status of the captive slaves formerly held by the Koryak.[2] Close association with women, the primitive argues, produces effeminacy in a man, by contagion. Keep him with the women, put their clothes on him, and he is no longer dangerous, if hostile, and may be made useful in occupations suited to females. In the absence of satisfactory evidence for the other hypothesis put forward, and taking into consideration the attitude towards captive slaves of other Palaeo-Siberians as exhibited above, it would seem at least probable that the koekchuch of the Kamchadal were, or had developed from, a class of captive slaves.

Though Bogoras, in his account of the slave-class which existed until comparatively recent times among the Chukchee, does not refer to any definite attempt made by these people to feminize their captives, his statement that the word ämulin applied to such slaves means primarily 'weakling', and that all the other terms applied to captive slaves have an implication of contempt, supports the assumption that the Chukchee hold the same view as other Palaeo-Siberians, including the Kamchadal, of what was the ideal condition of a slave-class.

Chapter XIII

GODS, SPIRITS, SOUL.

1. THE CHUKCHEE.

BENEVOLENT supernatural beings are called by the Chukchee vairgit, i. e. 'beings'. The most important are the 'benevolent beings sacrificed to' (taaronyo vairgit), those to whom the people bring sacrifices. They live in twenty-two different 'directions' of the Chukchee compass. The chief of these beings is the one residing in the zenith, which is called 'being-a-crown' (kanoirgin), or 'middle-crown' (ginon-kanon). Mid-day, the Sun, and the Polar Star are often identified with the 'middle-crown '. The Dawn and the Twilight are ' wife-companions', several of the tales describing them as being married to one wife. The 'directions ' of the evening are together called 'Darkness'. Sacrifices are made to them only on special occasions, and are often mingled with those offered to the kelet ('evil spirits') of the earth.'

The sun, moon, stars, and constellations are also known as vairgit; but the sun is a special vairgin, represented as a man clad in a bright garment, driving dogs or reindeer. He descends every evening to his wife, the 'Walking-around-Woman'. The moon is also represented as a man. He is not a vairgin,[2] however, but the son of a kele of the lower worlds. He has a lasso, with which he catches people who look too fixedly at him. Shamans invoke the moon in incantations and spells.

Among the stars, the pole-star is the principal vairgin, and is most often referred to as unpener, [2] the pole-stuck star', a name, .which, Mr. Bogoras asserts, is universal throughout Asia.[3]

There are several other vairgit beneficent to man, which Bogoras supposes to be merely vague and impersonal names of qualities. 'They represent a very loose and indefinite personification of the creative principle of the world, and are similar to Vakanda or Great Manitou of the Indians,' he says.[4] Their names are

Tenan-tomgin ('Creator', lit. 'One who induces things to be created'); Girgol-vairgin ('Upper-Being); Marginen ('World', literally 'The Outer-One')., Yaivac-vairgin ('Merciful-Being'); Yagtac-vairgin ('Life-giving Being'); Kinta-vairgin ('Luck-giving Being'). These do not receive special sacrifices, but are all, except 'Creator', mentioned at the sacrifices to the Dawn, Zenith, and Midday. The 'Luck-giving Being' is sometimes represented as a raven, but the Creator is never so represented by the Chukchee (as he is among the Koryak), although he is sometimes known as 'the outer garment of the Creator'. The Chukchee, however, have many tales about Big-Raven, whom they call Tenan-tomgin.

Besides these 'Beings', the Reindeer Chukchee have also a 'Reindeer-Being' (Qoren-vairgin), who watches over the herds; and the Maritime people have their 'Beings of the Sea' (Anqa-vairgit), of whom the most important are Keretkun and his wife, sometimes called Cinei-new. 'They live on the sea-bottom or in the open sea, where they have a large floating house. They are larger than men, have black faces, and head-bands of peculiar form, and are clad in long white garments made of walrus-gut adorned with many small tassels.'[1] Another sea-spirit is the 'Mother of the Walrus', living at the bottom of the sea, and armed with two tusks like a walrus. Besides her, there is still another sea-spirit like a walrus, which is believed to work harm to people, crawling into their houses at night. These walrus-beings do not receive regular sacrifices, and sometimes assist the Shaman in the capacity of kelet. Keretkun, however, is the recipient of sacrifices at the autumn ceremonials. The Asiatic Eskimo have sea-deities similar to those of the Maritime Chukchee. [2]

The Chukchee classify the winds also as 'Beings', whose names are mentioned in incantations, the local prevailing wind being always regarded in a given locality as the chief of these 'Beings'.[3]

Spirits of tents and houses are called 'House-Beings' (Yara-vairgit). They are attached to houses, not to people, and if a house is destroyed they cease to exist with it. If the inhabitants of a house abandon it, the house-spirits turn into very dangerous earth-spirits.[4] A small share of every important sacrifice is placed for them on the ground in the corners of the sleeping-room.

Othcr spirits, which are neither kelet nor vairgit, also exist;

e. g. the spirits of intoxicating mushrooms, which form a 'Separate Tribe' (yanra-varat).[1]

Some 'Beings' have so called 'assistants' (viyolet) which receive a share of the sacrifices. The 'assistant' is very often represented as a raven or as half a raven. Even the kelet have 'assistants'. [2]

All the forests, rivers, lakes, and the classes of animals are animated by 'masters' (aunralit) or 'owners' (etinvit). Some. times the Chukchee call these kelet-a word which, though it usually means 'evil spirits', sometimes is used in the simple sense of 'spirits '.[3] Wild animals are said to have the same sort of households as the Chnkchee themselves and to imitate men in their actions. For instance, 'one family of eagles has a slave, Rirultet, whom they stole from the earth a long time ago. He prepares food for all of them, and his face has become blackened with Soot.'[4] Animals, like spirits, can take the form of men. The ermine and the owl become warriors on certain occasions; the mice become hunters. 'In most cases, animals, while impersonating human beings, retain some of their former qualities, which identify them as beings of a special class, acting in a human way, but different from mankind.' So the fox-woman retains her strong smell, and the goose-woman does not take animal food.[5]

Lifeless objects, especially if they have originally been parts of living organisms, may become endowed with life; e. g. skins ready for sale may turn at night into reindeer, and walk about.[6]

These various 'owners' are very often of the kelet class; but, according to Bogoras, no Chukchee will confess to having made sacrifices to evil spirits, except under extraordinary circumstances.[7]

Bogoras divides the kelet of the Chukchee into three classes: (a) invisible spirits, bringing disease and death; (b) bloodthirsty cannibal spirits, the enemies of Chukchee warriors especially; (c) spirits which assist the shaman during shamanistic performances.

Kelet of the class (a) are said to live underground, and to have also an abode above the earth; but they never come from the sea, for, according to a Chukchee proverb 'nothing evil can come from the sea'.[8]

The kelet do not remain in their homes, but wander abroad and seek for victims. They are too numerous to be distinguished by special names. Some of them are one-eyed; they have all sorts of strange faces and forms, most of them being very small. They are organized in communities resembling those of men. On the Pacific shores they are often known as rekkenit (sing. rekken). These have various monstrous forms, and animals which are born with any deformity are sacrificed to them. The kelet have an especial fondness for the human liver. This belief is the origin of the Chukchee custom of opening a corpse to discover from the liver which spirit has killed the deceased.[1] The class (b), which is especially inimical to warriors, is spoken of chiefly in the tales. While incantations and charms are employed against spirits of the first class, against the giant cannibal kelet of the second category ordinary weapons of war are used. These spirits once formed a tribe of giants living on the Arctic shore, but being much harassed by the Chukchee, they changed themselves into invisible spirits.[2]

The third class (c) is that of shamanistic spirits, sometimes called 'separate spirits' or 'separate voices'. They take the forms of animals, plants, icebergs, &c., and can change their form very quickly-and also their temper; on account of this last peculiarity the shaman must be very punctilious in keeping his compact with them. The shaman says of them, 'These are my people, my own little spirits.'[3] We do not find in Bogoras any reference to benevolent shamanistic spirits or assistants of the shaman.

Besides these typical evil spirits, there is also a class of 'monsters'. Among these the chief is the killer-whale , which is surrounded by a taboo among all Arctic peoples: any one who kills a killer-whale is sure to die very soon. These monsters in Winter are transformed into wolves and prey upon the reindeer of the Chukchee. An exaggerated representation of a polar bear also appears as one of the 'monsters'. The mammoth plays an important part in Chukchee beliefs. It is said to be the reindeer of the kelet. If the tusks are seen above ground, this is a bad omen, and unless an incantation is uttered something untoward will happen.

'According to one story, some Chukchee men found two mammoth-tusks protruding from the earth. They began to beat the

[1. Op. cit., pp. 292-8.

2. Op. cit., pp. 298-300.

3. Op. cit., pp. 300-2.]

drum and performed several incantations. Then the whole carcass of the mammoth came to sight. The people ate the meat. It was very nutritious and they lived on it all winter. When the bones were stripped of all the meat, they put them together again, and in the morning they were again covered with meat. Perhaps this story has for its foundation the finding of a mammoth-carcass good for eating, as happened on the Obi in the eighteenth century, and also more recently in the Kolyma country.

'Because of these beliefs, the search for ivory of the mammoth was tabooed in former times. Even now, a man who finds a mammoth-tusk has to pay for it to the "spirit" of the place by various sacrifices. The search for such tusks is considered a poor pursuit for a man, notwithstanding the high price which the ivory brings."

In the pictorial representations of these 'monsters', or, rather, exaggerated animals, all which have a reindeer as the foremost figure are intended to represent benevolent spirits; while others in which a dog, horse, or mammoth stands in front, represent kelet.

Monstrous worms, blackbeetles, birds, and fish are the other exaggerated animal forms which Bogoras calls 'monsters'. [2]

Soul. The soul is called wirit or uvekkirgin ('belonging to the body'). Another term is tetkeyun, meaning 'vital force of living being'. The soul resides in the heart or the liver, and animals and plants as well as men possess it. One hears, however, more about other 'souls'-those which belong to various parts of the body: e.g. there is a limb-soul, nose-soul, &c. And so a man whose nose is easily frost-bitten is said to be 'short of souls'. Very often the soul assumes the form of a beetle, and hums like a bee in its flight. When a man loses one of his souls, he may obtain its return through a shaman, who, if he cannot discover the whereabouts of the inissing soul, can send a portion of his own into the person who has suffered this loss. If a kele steals a soul, he carries it into his own dark abode, and there binds its limbs to prevent its escaping. In one of the tales 'a kele forces a stolen soul to watch his lamp and trim it'. Bogoras knew of a case of a man who struck his wife with a firebrand, and when the woman died after two days, and her relatives had examined her body and found no injury to any organ, they said that the husband's blow had injured her soul.

'Kelet also have souls of their own, which may be lost or spirited away by shamans.'[1]

Chukchee View of the Universe. According to the Chukchee belief there are several worlds, one above another. Some reckon five such worlds, others seven or nine. A hole, under the pole-star, forms a passage from one world to the other, and through this hole shamans and spirits pass from one to another of the worlds. Another way to reach the other world is to take a step downwards in the direction of the dawn. There are also other worlds' in the 'directions' of the compass, one under the sea, another small dark 'world' vaguely described as being above, which is the abode of the female kele-birds. Some of the stars also are distinct 'worlds' with their own inhabitants. The sky, they say, is a 'world ' too, and touches our earth at the horizon, where at four points there are gates. When the wind blows these gates are believed to be opening.[2]

II. THE KORYAK.

In contrast to the Chukchee and the Eskimo, who have whole classes of Supreme Beings (vairgit, Chukchee; kiyarnarak, Asiatic Eskimo), the Koryak, as Jochelson thinks, have a tendency to monotheism; although he considers it 'possible that all names now applied by them to one deity may have formerly been applied to various beings or phenomena of nature, and that, owing to their intercourse with the Russians, a monotheistic tendency of uniting all names of the various deities into one may have developed'.[3] That the Koryak conception of one Supreme Being is not indigenous, or at least not very old, may be judged from the very vague account of his nature and qualities which was all that Jochelson was able to obtain from these people, and also from the fact that he takes no active part in shaping the affairs of men. He is, of course, a benevolent anthropomorphic being, an old man with a wife and children, dwelling in the sky. He can send famine or abundance, but seldom uses his power to do either good or evil to men.

Jochelson says that the abstract names given to him are hardly consistent with the conception-distinctly material, as far as it goes-which the Koryak seem to have of his nature. Some of

these names are: 'Naininen (Universe, World, Outer one); Inahitelan or Ginagitelan (Supervisor); Yaqhicnin or Caqhicnin (Something-Existing), called by the Paren people Vahicnin, by those of Kamenskoye, Vahitnin, or by the Reindeer Koryak, Vahiynin (Existence, also Strength); Gicholan (The-One-on-High); Gicholetinvilan (The-Master-on-High) or simply Etin (Master); Thairgin (Dawn). In Tale 113 we meet with the name Kihigilan (Thunder-Man) for the Supreme Being.'[1]

The Supreme Being is propitiated for purely material reasons, such as the procuring of a food-supply by hunting land and sea animals, the picking of berries and roots, and the tending of the reindeer herds. If the Supreme Being ceases to look upon the earth disorder at once begins; e.g. Big-Raven is unsuccessful in his hunting when Universe (Naininen) has gone to sleep (Tale 9). In like manner, failure, to offer sacrifices may bring some such misfortune on a mail. In one of the tales (111), when young Earth-Maker (Tanuta), the husband of Yineaneut, Big-Raven's daughter, fails to make the customary sacrifice to Inahitelan's (Supervisor's) son Cloud-Man (Yahalan) at his wedding, Supervisor forces Yineaneut, or rather her soul, to the edge of the hearth, where her soul is scorched by the fire, and she wastes away.

Though the Supreme Being does not interfere actively in the affairs of men, their souls (uyicit or uyirit) go to him after death and hang in his dwelling on posts or beams, until the time comes when they are to be re-born. The duration of the future life of each soul is marked on a thong fastened to it, a short thong indicating a short life. Supervisor dwells in the clouds or the sky or the heaven-village. His wife is known variously as Supervisor-Woman, Rain-Woman, or Sea-Woman. His son, Cloud-Man (Yahal, or Yahalan), is the patron of young couples, and if a lover, young man or woman, desires to conquer the heart of the one beloved, this is accomplished by beating the drum; and the propitiation of this patron is also the reason why the bridegroom sacrifices a reindeer to Cloud-Man after marriage.

Jochelson found only one tale (9) relating directly to the Supreme Being, though there are references to him in some others. In this tale, which is full of coarse details, Universe sends heavy rain upon the earth from the vulva of his wife. Big-Raven and his son are obliged to change themselves into ravens,

[1. Op. cit., p. 24.]

fly up to heaven, and put a stop to the incessant rain by a trick. This tale must not be told in fine weather, but only to put an end to rain or a snow-storm.

As stated above, the Supreme Being sends Big-Raven to order human affairs. The native name for Big-Raven is Quikinnaqu or Kutkinnaku, which are augmentative forms of the words for 'raven'. He is also known as Acicenaqu (Big-Grandfather), or Tenantomwan (Creator). The tales about Big-Raven form part of the Pacific Coast cycle of raven myths, for we find this figure in the mythology of the north-western Amerinds as well as in that of the Siberians of north-eastern Asia. But, among the Koryak, Big-Raven plays a part also in the ritual of their religious ceremonies. 'Creator' is really a misnomer, for this being did not exercise any truly creative function: he was sent by the Supreme Being to carry out certain reforms in the already organized universe, and was therefore, so to speak, a reorganizer and the first man. He is also a supernatural being and a powerful shaman; and his name is mentioned in almost every incantation in shamanistic performances. 'When the shamans of the Maritime Koryak commence their incantations they say, "There, Big-Raven is coming!" The Reindeer Koryak told me that during shamanistic ceremonies a raven or a sea-gull comes flying into the house, and that the host will then say, "Slaughter your reindeer, Big-Raven is coming!"'[1]

The personage known by this Dame turns into a bird only when he puts on a raven's coat. The ordinary raven also figures in the mythology as a droll and contemptible character, a scavenger of dogs' carcasses and of excrement. One of the tales (82), about the swallowing of the sun by Raven (not Big-Raven) and the rescue of the luminary by Big-Raven's daughter, recalls a tale of the setting free of the sun told by the Indians of the North Pacific coast. The Koryak do not count it a sin to kill a raven.

Various contradictory accounts are given of the origin of Big-Raven. Some say that he was created by the Supreme Being; others that they do not know whence he came, although 'the old people' knew it.

Most of the Koryak tales deal with the life, travels, and adventures of Big-Raven, his wife Miti, and their children, of whom the eldest, their son Ememqut, is the best known. In

these tales, Big-Raven sometimes appears as a being of very low intelligence, who is often outmatched in cunning, not only by his wife, but even by mice. foxes, and other animals. Transformations, especially of the sexual organs of Big-Raven and his wife (allusions to which figure very largely throughout), supernatural deeds, and indecent adventures, form the subject of the greater part of the tales. 'The coarseness of the incidents does not prevent the Koryak from considering the heroes of these tales as their protectors.'[1] Many of the tales serve no other purpose than the amusement of the people.

In spite of the frivolous character ascribed to Big-Raven in some of the tales, he is said to have been the first to teach the people how to catch sea and land animals, the use of the fire-drill, and how to protect themselves against evil spirits. He lived on earth in the manner of the Maritime Chukchee, but some of his sons were reindeer-breeders. It is not certain how he disappeared from among men. According to some, he and his family turned into stones; others say that he wandered away from the Koryak. Traces of his having lived among them are still pointed out by the Koryak: on a sea-cliff in the Taigonos Peninsula are some large stones which are said to have been his house and utensils. His foot-prints and the hoof-marks of his reindeer are to be seen, say the Koryak, in the village of Kamenskoye.[2]

The Koryak, in common with other Siberian peoples, believe in another class of supernatural beings, known as owners or 'masters' (etin) of certain objects in which they are supposed to reside. Jochelson thinks that this conception among the Koryak is 'not vet differentiated from a lower animistic view of nature'. He finds the idea more highly developed in the inua of the Eskimo, the pogil of the Yukaghir; and especially so among the Neo-Siberians, e. g. in the Yakut icci and the Buryat ecen or isin. That the conception of a spirit-owner residing in 'every important natural object' is not so clear and well defined among the Koryak as among the other tribes mentioned, Jochelson considers to be proved by the vague and incoherent replies he received in answer to questions about the nature of these 'owners'.

The Koryak word for 'master of the sea' is anqakcn-etinvilan (anqa, sea). A Reindeer Korvak who had gone to the sea for summer fishing, and had offered a reindeer as a sacrifice to the sea,

[1. Op. cit., p. 20.

2. Op. cit., pp. 20-3.]

on being asked by Jochelson whether his offering was made to the sea or to the master of the sea, replied, 'I don't know. We say "sea" and "owner of the sea"; it's just the same.' Similarly Some of the Koryak say that the 'owner' of the sea is a woman, and others consider the sea itself as a woman. Certain hills, capes, and cliffs are called apupcl (apa, 'father' in Kamenskoye dialect, 'grandfatlier' in that of Paren). These are protectors of hunters and travellers, but it is doubtful whether the term is applied to the hill itself or to the spirit residing in it.'

The sky is considered as a land inhabited by a stellar people. The sun ('sometimes identified with The-Master-on-High'), the moon, and the stars are animated beings, and sacrificial offerings are made to the sun. 'Sun-Man (Teikemtilan) has a wife and children, and his own country, which is inhabited by Sun people.'[2] Marriages are contracted between his children and those of Big-Raven (Tales 12, 19, 21).

Mention is also made in the tales of a Moon-Man (or woman), and a Star-Man. [3]

The Koryak 'guardians' and 'charms' serve as protectors to individuals, families, or villages, whereas such greater supernatural beings as The-Master-on -High, Big-Raven, and the malevolent kalau are deities or spirits of the entire tribe-excepting those kalau that serve individual shamans. 'Guardians' form a class of objects that avert evil from men. Those about which Jochelson was able to obtain information include the sacred implements for fire-making, which comprise a fire-board (gicgic or gecgei), a bow (eyet), a wooden drill (maxem, 'arrow'), and a headpiece of stone or bone (ceneyine).[4]

The fire-board is of dry aspen wood, which ignites easily, and has holes in it for receiving the drill. It is shaped roughly to resemble a human being. The consecration of a new fire-board to the office of protector of the hearth and herd is accompanied with the sacrificing of a reindeer to The-Master-on-High, the anointing of the fire-board with the sacrificial blood and fat, and the pronouncing of an incantation over it. It would thus appear, Jochelson thinks, that the power to direct some vaguely conceived vital principle residing in a crude inanimate object to an activity beneficial to man lies in the incantation pronounced over it. "The headpiece has a hollow socket, which is placed upon the

thin upper end of the drill. 'The headpiece is held by one person, the board by another, while the bow is turned by a third person,' the drill rotating on its thick lower end in one of the holes of the fire-board. The charcoal dust produced by drilling is collected in a small leathern bag, for 'it is considered a sin to scatter' this dust.[1]

Evil Spirits.[2] Evil spirits are called kalau (sing. kala), corresponding to the Chukchee kelet.[3] In the time of Big-Raven they were visible to men, but now they are usually invisible. In most of the myths which refer to them they are represented as living in communities like human beings. They are very numerous, and have the power of changing their size, so that sometimes they are very large and then again very small. Sometimes they seem to be ordinary cannibals and not supernatural beings at all.[4] When the kalau are visible they appear sometimes in the form of animals, or as dogs with human heads, or as human beings with pointed beads. 'Their arrows are supplied with mouths, and they can be shot without the use of a bow, and fly wherever they are sent.'[5] Some of the kalau live underground and enter the houses of men through the fire on the hearth; others dwell on the earth, in the west. Although invisible, they can make their approach felt. 'Thus, when Big-Raven's children begin to ail, he says: "The kalau must be close by."'[6]

Kalau are divided into Maritime and Reindeer kalau. Some live in the forests, others in the tundra. Human beings are the spoils of their chase, as reindeer and seals are those of human hunters. The kalau of diseases form a special class, and the most prominent of these evil spirits have special names.

We do not find among the Koryak a class of spirits well disposed towards men, who will fight with the kalau. There is no generic name for good spirits. But the natural enemies of the kalau appear to be Big-Raven and his children. Some myths represent Big-Raven and his children as being destroyed by the Wait, or, again, the kalan are destroyed or made harmless by Big-

Raven: 'He causes them to fall asleep; he takes out their cannibal stomachs during their sleep. and puts other ones in their places, usually those of some rodents. At still other times he devises some other means of protecting himself and his children against the invasion of the cannibals. In one story it is told that he heated stones in his house until they were red-hot, invited the kalau to sit on them, and thus burned them. At another time he got rid of them by making a steam bath for them, in which they were smothered. At times an incantation serves him as a means of rescue. In another story Big-Raven appealed to the Master-on-High for help against the mouthed arrows of the kalau with whom he had been at war; and the deity gave him an iron mouth, which caught all the arrows sent by the kalau.'[1] It will be seen, however, from the above that Big-Raven defends himself and his family rather than men from the attacks of kalau; and, as Jochelson says in one place, 'Men seem to be left to their own resources in their struggle with evil spirits, diseases, and death'.[2] For, as we have seen, even the Supreme Being plays no active part in the protection of men." On the contrary, he sends kalau to men 'that they may die, and that he may create other people'.[4] An old man called Yulta, from the village of Kamenskoye, told Jochelson that the kalau formerly lived with The-Master-on-High, but he quarrelled with them and sent them down to our world.[5] Another version has it that Big-Raven sent the kalau down to the people to give the latter a chance to test the power of the incantations he had taught them against the kalau. One of the tales relates that 'the dead ancestors send the kalau from the underground world into the village of their descendants to punish the young people for playing games at night and thus disturbing the rest of the old people'.[6]

Kalau are, however, not always only harmful to men. 'Although', says Jochelson, 'on the whole the word kala denotes all powers harmful to man, and all that is evil in nature, there are numbers of objects and beings known under the name of kalak or kawak that do not belong to the class of evil spirits. Thus, the guardian spirits of the Koryak shamans, and some varieties of guardians of the village, of the family, or of individuals, are called by this name.'[7]

In the Koryak cosmogony there are five worlds-two above

and two below the earth. The uppermost is the seat of the Supreme Being, the next is inhabited by Cloud-People (Yahalanu); next comes our earth; of the two worlds below, that nearest ours is the dwelling of the kalau; and, lowest of all (Ennanenak or Nenenqal-'on the opposite side'), is the abode of the shades of the dead (Peninelau, 'ancient people').[1]

At the present day only the shamans can pass from one world to another; but in the ancient days of Big-Raven (comparable to the Arunta age of Alcheringa) this was possible for ordinary people.[2]

The luminaries, the wind, fog, and other phenomena of nature, as well as imaginary phenomena, are supposed to be endowed with anthropomorphic souls; hence, all the wooden images of spirits have human faces. In the time of Big-Raven men could transform themselves either into the form of animals, or into that of inanimate objects[3] by donning an animal's skin or some covering of the shape of the object into which they desired to be transformed.[4]

'In the time of Big-Raven there was no sharp distinction between men, animals, and other objects; but what used to be the ordinary, visible state in his time became invisible afterwards. The nature of things remained the same; but the transformation of objects from one state into another ceased to be visible to men, just as the kalau became invisible to them. Only shamans, that is, people inspired by spirits, are able to see the kalau, and to observe the transformation of objects. They are also able to transform themselves by order of the spirits, or in accordance with their own wishes. There is still a living, anthropomorphic essence concealed under the visible inanimate appearance of objects. Household utensils, implements, parts of the house, the chamber-vessel, and even excrement, have an existence of their own. All the household effects act as guardians of the family to which they belong. They may warn their masters of danger, and attack their enemies. Even such things as the voice of an animal, sounds of the drum, and human speech, have an existence independent of the objects that produce them."

The Koryak word for the soul is uyicit. They appear to have a conception also of 'some other vital principle or a secondary soul',[1] whose name Jochelson was not able to learn, nor could he ascertain anything definite relating to it. 'Some vital principle', he thinks, 'is implied in the words wityivi ("breathing') and wuyilwuyil ("shadow").'[2] They draw no very sharp line of demarcation between life and death. A corpse is not 'deprived of the ability to move. The deceased may arise, if he is not -watched'.[3] How death occurs, according to their belief, is explained by Jochelson as follows: 'The soul (uyicit), or, to be more exact, the chief soul of the man, frightened by the attack of kalau upon it, deserts the body, and rises to the Supreme Being. According to some tales, the kala himself pulls the soul out of the body, and sets it free to go off to the sky, in order to possess himself of the body, or of the other souls[4] of the deceased.'[5]

The soul of a deceased person does not leave the earth at once, but hovers high above the corpse. It is like a flame. During illness it is outside the body, hovering low over it if the illness is slight, higher if it is severe. A powerful shaman is believed to be able to bring back the soul to the body of a person recently dead. When the soul of the deceased rises to the Supreme Being, the deceased himself and his other soul, or his shadow, descend underground to dwell with the Peninelau-'the ancient people, people of former times'.[6]

III. THE KAMCHADAL.

At the time of Krasheninnikoff and Steller the Kamchadal had several names for the Supreme Being, but these writers do not give any detailed descriptions of the Kamchadal's relations to their deities. On the contrary, Krasheninnikoff thought that they paid no religious worship to their god Kutchu or Kutkhu; and Steller, taking into account their rude and indecent mythology, calls the Kamchadal geborene Gotteslästerer.[7] The following

names of deities are recorded by Krasheninnikoff:[1] Kutkhu (Kutchu), his wife Ilkxum, his sister Xutlizic, his sons Simskalin and Tizil-Kutkhu, and his daughter Siduku. Tizil-Kutkhu married Siduku. They had a son Amlei, and a daughter, who also married each other, and the Kamchadal are the descendants of this last pair. Neither Steller nor Krasheninnikoff describes the functions of these gods. Kutkhu is called by Steller 'the greatest deity of the Kamchadal, who created the world and every living being'.[2] He mentions also another name for the Supreme Being, Dustechtschitsch, and Jochelson thinks that this deity may have corresponded to the benevolent Supreme Being of the Koryak. The Kamchadal of the present day call the Christian God by a similar name.[3]

According to other Kamchadal traditions, the earth was created by Kutq (Raven). In one such legend he makes it out of his son Simskalin: another has it that he brought the earth down from the sky with the help of his sister and fixed it immovably in the sea.[4]

The Koryak say that Big-Raven went away from them. The Kamchadal have a similar tradition; but according to them, Raven (Kutq) left them to go to the Koryak and Chukehee.[5]

Volcanoes and hot springs were regarded as the habitations of evil spirits called kamuli. Heaven and earth were densely populated by spirits, some of whom were good, but most were evil; sacrifices which are not offered to the gods were made to the spirits.[6]

When the Kamchadal feared being attacked by the whale or the walrus, they used special incantations to appease them and induce them to spare the boat and its crew. They venerated also the bear and the wolf, and never pronounced the names of these animals.[7] They offered sacrifices of fire at the holes of sables and foxes.[8]

They believed that animals and men lived on after death in another world.[9]

IV. THE GILYAK.

The highest benevolent deity of the Gilyak is known as Ytsigy, according to Schrenck.[1] But Sternberg[2] says that they call the universe Kurn, and apply the same name to their highest anthropomorphic deity. The 'owner' spirit of the mountain, and the mountain itself, is named Pal, and the sea and its 'owner' they call Tol. Their name for the island of Sakhalin is Mif, literally 'earth', and they believe that the island is a sort of covering for a certain immense god.[3] Natural objects all have a life of their own, and if one commits violence of any kind upon them sacrifice must be made to the injured 'owners'. Thus, when cutting down a tree, the Gilyak, lest they might hurt its 'owner', place upon it an inau [4] (chekhnkun-inau), into which the spirit can pass and retain its life.

Visible objects in general are merely masks or coverings for various anthropomorphic spirits which reside in them, and this is especially the case with objects such as stones or roots which have an outward resemblance to the human form.[5] Animals, though outwardly differing in form from man, are in reality human beings, with human feelings and souls, and human institutions, such as the clan. Some of them, indeed, are superior to man, with higher qualities of mind and body. Such are the bear, on land, and a certain large bird at sea. Both these cause all other animals to avoid their neighbourhood. The bear is not dangerous to man in the wilderness, except for a short time in the spring; and the bird is not only not harmful to men, but beneficent, for when he appears the terrified fishes, fleeing before him, are an easy prey for the fishermen. It is not the animal, however, which is the object of their cult, but only its 'owner', ys. The 'owners' of the tayga, of the mountain, of the sea, and of the fire, are, of course, the most important for men from the economic point of view. The gods of the sky are regarded as less important, for men do not come into direct contact with them. These live in the sky in clans, and are called tly nivukh. Of less importance, too, are the gods of the sun and moon; and nearly all sacrifices are offered to the 'owners' of the tayga, mountains, sea, and fire.[6]

Sacrifices, says Sternberg, are not usually accompanied by any elaborate ceremonials. They are based on the principle of exchange, i. e. one does not offer fish to the god of the sea, organie animals to the god of the tayga. When a Gilyak at sea fears the oncoming of a storm, he throws some tea-leaves into the water, and says: 'I pray thee see to it that the sea be not angry and that I return home safe and sound.'[1] Wherever a Gilyak goes he carries with him certain objects intended for sacrifices, such, for example, as roots and leaves of certain plants, especially of the martagan. They also make bloody sacrifices. In this case the victim is a dog. Offerings of dogs are made chiefly at the beginning of the season for the trapping of sables and at the bear-festival. On these occasions the victims are killed by strangling, and as the dogs are dispatched they ask them to make intercession to the gods for them.[2]

Clan-gods form a special category. They are the spirits of clansmen who have died by drowning or fire, or have been killed by bears. To them periodical sacrifices are made by the clan. The bear-festival belongs to this class of sacrifices.

Besides all these benevolent deities there are classes of less important good spirits-bol, lot, and urif. The malevolent beings are called milk or kinr (knin). They are very numerous, have various forms, and cause all sorts of misfortune, illness, and death. Many incantations and shamanistic ceremonies are practised to ward off their attacks; but even a shaman cannot deal with them by his own unaided power. He has to call to his assistance two spirit-helpers, kekhn and kenchkh. These assistants of the shaman are exceedingly clever and sometimes very wicked.[3]

The Gilyak believe that an ordinary man has one soul, a rich man two, while a shaman may have as many as four. Thus the shaman Chamkh had four souls, one of which he received from the mountain, another from the sea, the third from the sky, and the fourth from the underworld. His son Koinit, who had been chosen by the spirits to be a shaman, had already two souls, although he was only twelve years old, and Chamkh was a very poor man. Besides these principal souls, every one has a lesser soul, which they imagine as being like an egg, residing in the head of the principal soul. All that a man sees in dreams is the work of this lesser soul. After a man's death, which they believe to be

caused by his body being devoured by evil spirits, the soul, also attacked by the same spirits, may escape from them, and goes to the land of the dead called mylvo. Here it has the form of a man, and leads the same kind of life as on earth, except that a poor man becomes rich, and a rich man poor. From this place the soul goes to another land, and so on from land to land, turning into smaller and smaller beings in transit-a bird, a gnat, and at last a speck of dust. Some souls return to earth and are born again. The lesser soul continues to live for some time in the best-beloved dog of the deceased, which is especially cherished and cared for (see chapter on 'Death').[1]

V. THE AINU.

Batchelor says that the Ainu believe in one Supreme Being, Creator of all worlds, whom they call Kotan Kara Kamui, Moshiri Kara Kamui, Kando Koro Kami- 'the maker of places and worlds, and possessor of heaven'. Kamui means, in the first place, 'he who' or 'that which is greatest' or 'best' or 'worst'; a secondary (or more modern) meaning is 'he who' or 'that which covers' or 'overshadows'. In both meanings the word is akin to that for 'heaven', which itself has for its root a word signifying 'top' or 'above'. When applied to good powers kamui is a title of respect; and when the evil gods are called by this name it implies the fear or dread inspired by them. Besides these names, the Ainu sometimes refer to their Supreme Being under the title Tuntu, which means 'pillar', 'support', 'upholder'. He is the Creator, 'the summit, centre, and foundation (of the world), its originator and mighty "Support".'[2]

Batchelor thinks that the Ainu. regard this being is (i) the creator and preserver of the world; (ii) the sustainer of men in general; (iii) the special protector of every individual, with whom men can communicate in prayer.[3]

There is, according to the Ainu belief, also a multitude of less important deities, who are subject to the highest, and carry out his decrees. By their means he created and still sustains the world and mankind. Some of these gods are benevolent and have a double who is malignant. E.g. there are two gods of the sea called Rep un kamui. They are brothers. The younger,

Mo acha, 'uncle of peace', is beneficent to man, bringing fair weather for fishing: while his elder brother, Shi acha, is an evil deity who chases Alo acha from the seaside, and brings bad weather to spoil the fishing and wreck the boats.' Similarly with other deities of the waters, Wakka-ush kamui. These are female, and have charge of springs, streams, waterfalls, lakes, and ponds. Chiwash ekot mat, 'female possessor of places where fresh and salt waters mingle', watches over river-mouths and allows the fish to go in and out. Nusa, i. e. clusters of kema-ush-inao, or 'legged inao' (i. e. inao tied to stakes thrust into the ground), are set up by the water as sacrifices to these gods. Pet-ru-ush mat, 'females of the waterways', have oversight of all streams from the source to the sea. They, too, are worshipped with offerings of nusa, and appealed to for protection in descending the rapids, and for good fortune in fishing.[2] Sarak kamui, on the other hand, is the evil god of the rivers. The word sarak denotes accidental death, and this god is said to bring about death not only by drowning, but also by mishap of any kind.[3]

The goddess of the sun is generally regarded as the chief of the secondary gods, for she is considered to be the special ruler of all good things in the universe. There is also a god of the moon. Some consider the moon a female, and the sun a male; but the majority speak of the sun as being female. These luminaries would seem to be regarded rather as the dwellings of deities than as being deities themselves. If the god of the sun or of the moon depart from their dwellings, the day or the night is darkened. Hence the fear which the Ainu have of eclipses.[4]

The stars are not worshipped, though the term kamui ('god') is sometimes applied to them. The Milky Way, or 'river of the gods', crooked river', is a favourite resort of the gods for fishing.[5]

Next in importance to the deity of the sun is the goddess of fire. She warms the body, heals sickness, enables man to cook his food. She is especially to be feared because she is a witness to note the acts and words of men. Hereafter they are punished or rewarded, says Batchelor, according to her testimony concerning their actions in life. It appears that it is not the fire which is worshipped, but the goddess residing in the fire.[6]

'Every Ainu hut is supposed to have its special guardian god who is thought to rest upon the roof when the master is at home,

[1. Op. cit., p. 92.

2. Op. cit., pp. 93-4.

3. Ibid.

4. Op. cit., pp. 273-4.

5. Op. cit., p. 276.

6. Op. cit., p. 277.]

and give warning of approaching danger, and who accompanies the head of a family when he goes forth to his wars and on his hunting expeditions.'[1] Batchelor says also that they believe that every person has his own protecting spirit.[2]

Traditions inform us that the gods gather themselves together and consult with one another as to ways and means before they act, the Creator, of course, acting as president, just in the same
way as the Ainu chiefs used to meet together for consultation before they acted.'[3]

If an Ainu finds that the particular god worshipped does not answer his prayer, he appeals to the Creator, sometimes even accusing the lesser god to him of neglecting his duty.[4]

They believe that their first ancestor, whom they call Aioina kamui, became divine, and, as Batchelor says,. 'has now the superintendence of the Ainu race'.[5]

The Ainu believe in evil as well as in good spirits. The chief evil spirit is Nitne kamui, and there are also other malignant beings who preside over accidents and diseases of the body and mind.[6]

The souls both of animals and men are believed to survive bodily death; and, according to Batchelor, the Ainu belief in a judgement of souls is strong and well defined.[7]

The Ainu believe that the soul will inhabit after death a body almost exactly resembling that which it has occupied in life; and that the community of souls in the future life, in its pursuits and enjoyments, is practically the same as the Ainu community on earth. Souls can revisit this earth as ghosts whenever they desire to do so and some of the living also have the power to go among the ghosts in their dwelling-place. In neither case can the visitor make himself heard, but he himself can both see and hear.[6]

The ghosts of deceased women are greatly feared, and that of an old woman especially is believed to have an extraordinary capacity for doing harm to the living. Even while alive on earth old women have great power over men, and children are much afraid of them. Formerly the hut in which the oldest woman of a family died was burnt after her death to prevent the spirit returning to work mischief to her offspring and to her sons- and daughters-in-law. The soul returning from the grave to exercise

its spells upon the living was thus unable to find its former home, and wandered about for a time in a furious rage. During this period the grave was carefully avoided.[1]
All souls go first to Pokna-Moshiri, the underworld. Here there are three roads, one leading to Kanna-Moshiri, 'the upper world', our world; another to Kamui-Kotan, 'the place of god', or Kamui-Moshiri, 'the kingdom' or 'world of god'; and the third to Teinei-Pokna-Shiri, 'the wet underground world'. On reaching Pokna-Moshiri, the soul is sent, on the testimony of the goddess of fire, either to Kamui-Kotan or to Teinei-Pokna-Shiri, to be rewarded for a good life, or punished for an evil one. If the spirit denies having done evil, he is confronted by a picture representing his whole life which is in the possession of the fire-goddess. 'Thus the spirit stands self-condemned' to punishment in Teinei-Pokna-Shiri.[2]

Some of the Ainu hold that women, who are considered inferior to men 'both spiritually and intellectually', have 'no souls, and this is sometimes stated as a reason why women are never allowed to pray'. But Batchelor thinks that the real reason for this prohibition is that the Ainu are afraid that the women will appeal to the gods against their ill-treatment by the men.[3]

Such are the views attributed by Batchelor to the Ainu about a future judgement, heaven, and hell. According to Chamberlain,[4] these conceptions are not original with the Ainu. He says: 'Some of the Ainos say that Paradise is below the earth, and Hell below that again. But as they use the modern Japanese Buddhist names for those places, they would appear to be, consciously or unconsciously, giving a foreign tinge to their old traditions. The fact that many Aino fairy-tales mention Hades under the name of Pokna Moshiri, while none seemingly mention Heaven or Hell, favours the view that no moral thread was woven into the idea of the next world as originally conceived by the Aino mind.'

[1. Op. cit., p. 223.

2. Op. cit., pp. 237-8.

3. Op. cit., pp. 234-5. This statement of Batchelor's implies that the Ainu women have a very low social position. On the other hand, both Sternberg and Pilsudski, who have an intimate acquaintance with Ainu life, say that the social position of women among the Ainu is better than in any other of the tribes of Siberia, and consider that this is probably due to the existence of a matriarchate among the Ainu in comparatively recent times.

4. The Language, Mythology, and Geographical Nomenclature of Japan reviewed in the Light of Aino Studies, V. 19.]

VI. THE TURKIC TRTBES.

(1) THE YAKUT.

According to Troshchanski, the chief benevolent god of the Yakut is Urun-Aïy-Toyon, the white lord and creator of the earth and inan. This writer thinks that Urun-Aïy-Toyon was regarded as the father of light, and since among all the Turkic tribes the sun is considered the father of light, his opinion is that this god was originally the Yakut god of the sun. When the Yakut migrated northward, where the sun is not so much in evidence as in the south, they kept the name Urun-Aïy-Toyon as that of their principal 'white' god, and gave a new name to the sun--Kun-Toyon, 'Sun-Lord', or simply Kun, the latter being the ordinary word for 'light', 'day'. However, aïy and kun are often used synonymously.[1] While Troshchanski,[2] following Piekarski, says that Urnn-Aïy-Toyon is sometimes called Art-Toyon-Aga, 'Father-Ruler-of-All', or Ar-Aïy-Toyon, Sieroszewski[3] and Priklonski think that Art-Toyon-Aga is the highest god, living in the Ninth Sky, and that Urun-Aïy-Toyon, who lives in the Third Sky, is next to him in dignity. Sieroszewski says that the Yakut Olympus is organized on the plan of the clan-system of the Yakut. The sky-gods are divided into nine bis or agas, and the gods of the lower world into eight. The sky-gods are arranged in the following order:

(i) Art-Toyon-Aga, the powerful ruler of light and life, speaking in the storm and thunder, somewhat indifferent to human affairs, and to be appealed to only in exceptional circumstances. In his honour are celebrated the great clan ceremonies, ysyakh, in which sacrifice of kumys is made to him. Generally speaking, bloody sacrifices are not made to the benevolent deities. Only to the god of hunting, Bay-Nay, is sacrifice involving bloodshed offered, and even in this case such sacrifices are limited in the quantity of blood that may be shed.

(ii) Urun-Aïy-Toyon, 'White-Lord-Creator'.

(iii) Nalban-Aïy, Kübay-Khotun-Lä, 'Kind-Mother-Creatress'.

(iv) Nalygyr-Aïssyt-Khotun, the benevolent goddess who presides over child-birth.

(v) An-Alay-Khotun, the tutelary goddess of the earth, fields, and valleys, with her children, the spirits of äräkä-djäräkä.

(vi) Sätä-kürä-Djäsagai-Aïy, seven brothers, gods of light, war, &c.

(vii) Mogol-Toyon and his wife, the deities of the cattle.

(viii.) Bay-Nay, god of hunting.

(ix) Gods who guard the roads to the sky.[1]

Sieroszewski says that the natives are quite ready to give information about the clan arrangement of the sky-gods, but that it is very difficult to get similar information about the gods of the underworld, since very few of the ordinary people know anything about them, and the shamans are afraid of betraying the secrets of these formidable beings. The chief of the 'dark' spirits is Ulutuyer-Ulu-Toyon, 'Onmipotent Lord'. He is always described as living in the western sky, and, in contrast to the inactive Art-Toyon-Aga, he is the personification of action and of the passions. Ulu-Toyon is not always harmful to men, for he gives to them one of his souls, sür, and defends them from the attacks of abassylar. In some descriptions he appears as the highest of the active supernatural powers, and not necessarily evil; but in other accounts he is described as a 'dark' spirit, the ruler of abassylar, just as Art-Toyon-Aga is the ruler of aïy, who inhabit the eastern sky .[2]

The abassylar are divided into 'Upper', living in the western sky; 'Middle', living on the earth; and 'Lower', inhabiting the subterranean world; but, wherever they live, they are all harmful to men .[3]

Ichchi, literally 'owner', signifies an ' owner'-spirit of various objects. Every river, lake, stone, and sometimes even parts of these, has its own ichchi, who controls it. Movable objects and those which can produce sounds also have their ichchi. Ichchi do not belong either to the aïy or to the abassylar, though in many cases, like the abassylar, they are harmful to men. Thus, for example, Kurar-Ichchi, the 'owner' of the wind, is by many writers considered as a 'black' spirit, since the wind is very often dangerous and harmful.[4] In the wanderings of the tribe through difficult country, by dangerous roads, or through trackless regions, accidents may often happen to a cart or some part of its equipment. Such misfortunes are attributed to the local ichchi, who must therefore be placated by sacrifices. The Yakut have a

special language for use during these journeyings. In this language, implements or other valuable objects are given certain nicknames instead of names proper to them, in order that the ichchi may not know that the objects in question are referred to for if they did, they would destroy or harm them. For the same reason the Yakut often employ Russian names for things they value, being certain that the ichchi will not understand these.[1]

The Yakut division of the universe is mainly horizontal, comprising two parts-east and south, the habitation of good spirits, and west and north, of evil spirits. The great evil spirit, Allara-Ogonür, 'Underground-Old-Man', lives in the far north. There is also a vertical division into upper, middle, and lower works, but this is less precise and not so important as the horizontal division, since abassylar, or evil spirits, are found in all three divisions, so that no one of the vertical worlds is restricted to the 'white' or good spirits, aïy.

The Yakut believe that man is composed of (i) tyn, 'life', 'breath'; (ii) kut, the physical soul; and (iii) sür, the psychic Soul. Tyn is common to men, animals, and plants, as among the Altaians. Kut is common to men and animals, and is composed of three parts: (a) buor-kut, literally 'earth-soul', i.e. soul composed of earthly elements; (b) salgyn-kut, literally 'air-soul', i.e. composed of air; (c) iyä-kut, 'mother-soul', the maternal element. It might seem, says Troshchanski, that there are here three souls, but in fact kut is one soul composed of these three elements. A Yakut woman is always delivered of her child on the bare ground within the yurta, for the Yakut believe that the buor-kut is communicated to the infant from the earth at the moment of birth. Salgyn-kut it receives from the air shortly afterwards; while the third element, iyä-kut, comes to the child from the mother.[3] Troshchanski considers that the proof of kut being but one soul composed of three parts is found in the fact that the Yakut believe that fishes have no kut, being cut off from both air and earth and not being viviparous.

The Altaians also have a conception of a kut, but theirs does not comprise three elements as does that of the Yakut.

Kut is a physical conception of the soul, while sür, although in some degree a material conception, has more of a psychical

character than kut. The sür enters the mother by way of her temples at the moment of conception. The kut is sent by Art-Toyon-Aga, and the Sür by Ulu-Toyon. Sür is connected with the head, and has no shadow; kut with the abdomen, and has three shadows. After death kut is devoured by the abassylar; though there is also a belief that the kut remains for some days near the body of the deceased, and then departs to the other world.' Sür is common to man and the animals, and is even possessed by fishes.[2] Troshchanski[3] says that the word sür is also used to denote unusual psychic powers, such as are possessed by shamans; and, indeed, according to the legend,[4] shamans receive their heads (the seat of sür) from heaven. If, as Troshchanski thinks, the sür is priniarily connected with the shaman as his distinctive familiar spirit, and does not perish after death like the kut, nor go to the other world like the kut,[5] then it would seem clear that the ämägyat, which according to some is a shamanistic spirit passing from one shaman to another, usually by heredity, is not in fact a spirit at all, but simply an impersonal power invariably associated with shamans.[6]

(2) THE ALTAIAINS.

According to the belief of the Altaians, the good spirits (aru neme) are all subjects of the good god Yulgen, and the bad spirits (kara neme) of the evil god Erlik. Yulgen is so kind and generous that he never does harm to men. Sacrifices are offered to him by all, but no one fears him. Every bridegroom must sacrifice to him a horse (iik) of a light colour after his marriage. The iik is surrounded with every mark of respect, red ribbon is tied to its mane, and no woman must mount upon its back. This sacrifice is offered in spring, in a birch thicket; no woman must be present at the ceremony, and even the shaman must of necessity be a man. The sacrificial meat may be partaken of by women, but only unmarried girls may share the feast at the spot where the sacrifice was offered; married women must not approach nearer than sixty feet from this spot.

Sacrifice is made to Erlik-usually of some animal-when an evil spirit attacks some one. The ceremony is performed either in the yurta, in the courtyard, or wherever the attack was made. propitiatory sacrifices are offered, not only to Yulgen and Erlik, but also to secondary good spirits, such as aru neme and ak neme, and to secondary evil spirits (kara neme), which are known to the Tartars of Chern as shaitan, almys, khawa, kuremes. The sun, the moon, as well as the mountains, rivers, and forest, are also propitiated, or rather the propitiation is offered to their 'owner' (eczi). Besides these superior beings, every clan (seok) has its own deity, and every family its own family god of the yurta, called bashtut-khan (or among the Tartars of Chern, erke).

Images of gods are called by the Yenisei Turks tyns, and by the Altaians, kurmes. These are made of various materials, often skin or wood.

There exists, apparently, some understanding between Yulgen and Erlik. As the Altaians say, 'Yulgen and Erlik have one door.'.[1] Sometimes, when Yulgen has been expecting a sacrifice and fails to receive it, being too kind-hearted to punish the culprit himself, he informs Erlik, and then sacrifices have to be made to both. In such cases Erlik commands Kagyr Khan to punish the culprit until he makes the expected sacrifice. Kagyr Khan has power over every yurta, and hence minor libations are made to him at all festivals.

The intermediary between gods and men at all sacrifices, and the priest at these ceremonies, as well as the prophet, is the kam or shaman. His power is greater or less according to the degree of tes bazyn-yat[2] (probably 'ancestor-spirit' or 'power of ancestor-spirit') possessed by him. [3]

The local division of the universe is partly horizontal, partly vertical; and the good spirits live in seventeen floors above the earth, while the bad occupy seven or nine under it. Erlik Khan, the chief of the bad spirits, lives on the lowest floor, where the sun and moon are supposed to give only a very feeble light. This Erlik Khan is held to have been originally a heavenly spirit, which shows that even in the past the 'white' spirits were predominant.[4]

The Altaians believe that the soul of man is composed of

several parts, or rather exists ill several conditions or stages. When a man is ill,[1] they consider that one of his souls, suzy, is absent, but that another soul, called tyn, still remains in the body, so that the suzy can be recalled.

(a) Tyn [2] signifies vitality, i.e. a soul common to plants, animals, and man. If the suzy does not return soon to the body, the tyn perishes. The soul of a dead man is called uziup-tyn. The word tyn comes from tynip, 'I breathe', or tynit, 'breath'. The Altaians say that one can bear a sound as of the snapping of a string when the tyn is departing. One must not approach too near to a dying man, for the belief is that in such a case the tyn of a living person can pass into the latter.

(b) Suzy is derived from su, 'water', 'river', and uzak, 'long'. The word suuzak means 'long-lived', 'healthy'; and suzy signifies primarily the strength necessary for a man or animal in order that he may be healthy and live long.

(c) Kut is almost the same as suzy, or is, so to speak, the next stage of suzy. This word is derived from kudap, 'I vanish'. Kut connotes, in fact, the destruction of some vital principle. The expression er kudup vardy means 'the earth has lost its vitality' or 'has become barren'.

(d) Tula is probably derived from tulup, 'I tear'. Animals have no tula, it belongs only to men. During a shaman's performance he represents this soul as a small white bullet continually in motion like quicksilver.

(e) Sür, from sürup, 'I pursue', 'I drive away'. This soul separates from a man at death, and is banished from the dead man's habitation forty days after his death. Sürmet means a 'picture', 'representation'. The Altaians believe that both men and animals, or their sürmet, continue to exist after bodily death, and have the same relations to one another as on earth.

(f) Süne, denoting a phase of the soul also peculiar to man, comes from sünep, 'I advise', 'discuss'. The word refers to the intellectual powers of man. It is this soul which assumes after death the living likeness of its possessor, and wanders in the dwelling of the dead man, sometimes calling out to his relatives.[3]

VII. THE MONGOLIC TRIBES.

THE BURYAT.

The Buryat religion is a form of polytheism. They have classes of supernal beings, each class having at its head one who is above the rest, but they have no conception of a Supreme Being over all. The highest spirits are called tengeri or tengeriny. They inhabit the sky.[1] There are ninety-nine tengeri each with a name of its own, divided into two groups-western, baruni, and eastern, zuni. Those of the west are kind, they predominate in numbers, being fifty-five, and are called sagani tengeri-White Tengeri. The eastern (forty-four in number) are mischievous, and are known as kharan tengeri, or Black Tengeri.[2]

Bauzaroff[3] speaks of the old Mongols as being heaven-worshippers, and this may be true of former times; now, however, we find among them a curious conception of heaven not as an indivisible whole, but as a collection of distinct bodies.

Following what Mr. Klementz [4] calls the theory of the atmospheric explanation of myths, Agapitoff and Khangaloff, in their Materials for the Study of Shamanism in Siberia, explain the ninety-nine tengeri as being each a personification of some atmospheric state, dull, bright, cold, stormy, &c.

The chief of the west tengeri is Khan-Tiurmas Tengeri among the Buryat of Balagansk, and Zayan-Sagan-Tengel among the Buryat of Kudinsk.[5] Not only the west tengeri, but also certain secondary spirits called burkhans or khats, and generally all the western or good zayans, are subordinate to this chief.

The east tengeri,[6] in contrast to those of the west, are hostile to men, among whom they send misfortunes, quarrels, sickness, and death. In the beginning there was no difference between these two classes of tengeri; but in consequence of a quarrel which arose among these spirits, some separated themselves and went to the east, where they have since remained as east tengeri, permanently hostile to the others and to men. There is a tradition among some of the Buryat, e.g. those of the Kuda River, that the white

tengeri are older than the black-a tradition which may not be unconnected with the other just mentioned. The chief of the east tengeri is Ata-Ulan-Tengeri among the Balagansk Buryat, and among the Kudinsk Buryat, Khimkhir-Bogdo-Tengeri. Not only the black tengeri but also other lesser zayans are subordinate to him.

The Buryat believe that the visible sky has a door through which the -western tengeri look from time to time, to see how human affairs are going. If they behold some misfortune they send to the aid of men certain of their children, called khats. If a man should happen to look up at the sky when this door (tengerin-uden) opens, he will be very lucky, and all that he may then ask from heaven will be granted him. During the brief moment when this door is open, a glory falls Upon the earth and transfigures it to unwonted beauty.[1]

The most important of the western khats are Khan-Shargan-Noyon and Bukha-Noyon-Babai.

The other benevolent spirits are known among the Kudinsk Buryat as satini-burkat. They are held in great reverence, because, as their name shows (sa, 'tea'), they are tutelary spirits of tea-planting, and the offering made to them consists always of tea, never of tarasun.[2]

The Balagansk Buryat include among their benevolent spirits a dayda-delkha-ijin, that is, the 'host or owner of the whole earth', who is represented as an old man with grey hair. His name is Daban-Sagan-Noyon. His wife is also old and white-haired, and her name is Delent-Sagan-Khatun. The Buryat arrange tailgans to this zayan in the autumn after the harvest.

The Buryat of Olhonsk offer sacrifice to the 'hostess' of the sea, Aba-Khatun.

The Buryat of Balagansk have also important deities called sagani-khordut.[3]

Speaking generally, every feature of the whole landscape has its 'owner' (ijin). E.g. in the lakes and rivers there are spirits known as ukhun-khat; and in the forest lives oin-ijin, the 'Owner
of the forest, a spirit harmful to men.[4]

The attitude of the Buryat towards the many 'owners' whom they see in nature is shown in the following prayer: 'Ye keepers of the echo in the high mountains, ye keepers of the winds of the

wide sea; my lords who lodge in the high mountains, my gods who live in the wilderness! Be our support in our need! In the evil years be generous, grant us fertility in the lean months! When We sit within our yurtas ye are not a danger to us; when we are without, there is no hindrance to your power. In the warm night ye give us light, in the hot midday ye send us shade. Banish from us evil, bring near to us the good! Since ye have made yourselves Creators, save us from all perils! Ye suffer not our plate-like faces to sweat, nor our hearts, like buttons, to flutter. Guardians of our beads, ye who prepare food for our mouths! Through the doors of our yurtas send us rays of light, through our smoke-holes let us see the sun!"

A special class in the spiritual world is formed of 'smiths', who are also western, or white, and eastern, or black. The former protect men and heal them of ills. They are subordinate to the western tengeri, and they have given to men knowledge of their art. The first white smith was Bojintoy, a heavenly zayan. When, at the behest of the western tengeri, white smiths and black descended to earth, Bojintoy remained in the sky. He had one daughter and nine sons, all of whom were smiths.[1]

The eastern khats are of the same number as the western. Their head is Erlen-Khan and his family. Although they do nothing but mischief to men, they have communication sometimes with the western khats, the intermediaries, who have no other function to perform, being called ilshi or bydek. There are also nine 'cow' khats, who also belong to the eastern zayans but are not subject to their power.[3]

In the region of the evil spirits there are two dungeons, one of which, the larger, is known as Khalga, and to this the greatest black shamans go after death. It is tinder the rule of Khara-Eren-Noyon, and a soul can only leave the dungeon if the governor is well disposed towards it. The other dungeon is smaller, and is called Erlen-Tama. It is not accessible to shamans, and is under the direct control of Erlen-Khan.[4]

Eastern or black 'smiths' are called kara-darkhat.[5] They are specially protected by the eastern tengeri, who taught the smith's art to the first 'black' smith on earth, Khojir-Khara-Darkhan. The latter has seven sons, all of whom are great black 'smiths'.[6]

The Buryat of Balagan believe that every disease has its zagan. Thus the disease common in their district, Sibirskaya yazva (called in Buryat bomo), has as its 'owner' Bolot-Sagan-Noyon.[1]

In the clan Olzoyev, in the district of Unginsk, there are two large white stones, Bumal-Sagan-Sbulun (literally, 'descending white stones'), which are believed to have fallen from the sky, and are worshipped by the natives.[2]

The souls of the greatest shamans after death become zayans and protectors of men. Even the souls of black shamans are said to arrange human business with the black zayans. Every ulus and clan has its own zayans-the souls of deceased shamans and shamanesses. Their bodies are burned or placed in coffins, which are put on trees in a neighbouring forest or on a mountain, whence they are called 'the old people of the mountain', khadaulan-öbökhöd. In every district there are such 'old people of the mountain', for whom are made tailgans and kiriks, with other lesser propitiatory offerings. These 'old people' are purely local divinities, and are not worshipped outside of the particular locality to which they belong..[3]

There are also two classes of ongons or fetishes-'black' and 'white'. They represent different spirits and are made of various kinds of material, usually of skins, and are of different forms, but generally have human faces. One kind of ongons serve only for the amusement of people. These are known as nadani ongon, nadani being the name given to an evening's amusement. The shaman calls upon the spirits represented by these ongons to amuse the young people during an evening party. When the spirit invoked arrives, the shaman himself pretends to be its ongon, and begins to make jests at the expense of the people present, who must not make any objection, but affect to be amused, for these ongons must be welcomed with merriment, and are annoyed otherwise.[4]

Although the Buryat have many legends about animals, which figure largely in their mythology, animals never rise to the rank of deities. Some are even said to have a future life, e.g. the horse, eagle, hedgehog, swan, fox, and even the worms in the fields. The snake is often represented in ritual as well as in mythology. It is a curious fact that the bear, which plays such an important part in the beliefs and ceremonies of other

shamanists, docs not enter into the myths and ritual of the Buryat.

The sun and the moon are among the principal tutelary spirits. In most of the tales they are represented as being of the male sex, and as taking women for wives. When there is an eclipse of the sun or moon, said a Balagansk shaman, this is because they have been swallowed by an alkha, a monster without trunk or limbs, having only a head. The sun, or the moon, then cries 'Save me!' and all the people shout and make a great noise to frighten the monster.[1]

The Buryat believe that man is composed of three parts: oyeye, material body; amin, lower soul, breath; and sunyesun, soul belonging to man only. Amin is connected with death; when it leaves the body, death occurs. Sunyesun has a similar connexion with sleep, leaving the body when one is sleeping. Batoroff [2] relates the history of the soul after death as follows: When the time comes for a man to die, erliks capture one of his souls, and bring it before Erlik-Nomon-Khan for judgement. After this soul has been captured, it sometimes happens that a man may live on for as long as nine years, but he never enjoys his former health and strength.

The second part of the soul does not leave the earth, but changes at the death of the man into a bokholdoy, which continues to live in a dwelling on earth and in a manner exactly similar to that which the man formerly followed. There are different classes of bokholdoys.

The third part of the soul is born again in the form of a human being but Batoroff [3] does not tell us when and how this reincarnation takes place.[4]

Bokholdoys are sometimes the souls of deceased shamans, to whom the Buryat bring sacrifices, says Batoroff;[5] these bokholdoys, then, form the class of zayans to which reference was made above. Bokholdoys are more or less powerful, according to the quality of the shamans in life. This depends, Batoroff thinks,[6] on the utkha of the deceased shaman, which means literally, his descent or genealogy; but from other references to a shaman's utkha it

seems clear that the word denotes supernatural, shamanistic power, like the Yakut ämägyat.[1] The less important bokholdoys do not receive any propitiatory offerings other than an occasional libation, which may be performed by any one, not necessarily by a shaman.

Ada or anakhay are, according to some traditions, souls of wicked persons or of women who have died childless. No sacrifices are made to them and they are represented as one-eyed, evil, malicious spirits, who always remain in the same ulus or house. They sometimes take the form of a dog or cat, always one-eyed; they wander at night, but not every one can see them, though any one can smell their disagreeable odour. They are afraid of being seen, of angry men, of fire, of metals, of weapons, and of the smell of heath. Though easily frightened, they are not easily banished from a house, and as they are especially harmful to young children under the age of seven, parents frequently arrange, naydji[2] with the shamans for their children's protection.[3]

The less important kind of bokholdoys are called ükher-ezy; these are the souls of sinful women who have died a violent death. No sacrifices are made to them, and nobody fears them. They can be seen by the same people as can see anakhay, but other people can perceive their odour. They come to wander on earth at the time when these women would have died in the ordinary course of events but for the violence which in fact ended their lives.[4] Klementz mentions also two other kinds of malicious spirits who originated from human souls, namely, mu-shubu -in the form of an evil-disposed bird-and dakhuls.[5]

VIII. THE FINNIC TRIBES.

In his account of the natives of north-western Siberia, the Ugrian Ostyak, Vogul, and Samoyed, Gondatti,[8] in speaking of their religion, pays most attention to the Vogul mythology. He says that the gods of the Vogul are divided into two classes, viz. of good and bad gods. The chief of the beneficent deities is Yanykli-Torilin (called also Numi-Toruni or Voykan-Toruin).

[1. See chapter on 'Shaman's Vocation'.

2. This term is explained in the chapter on 'Birth'.

3. Op. cit., pp. 10-11.

4 Op. cit., p. 13.

5. 'The Buriats,' E. R. E., p. 3.

6. Gondatti, Traces of Paganism among the Aborigines of North-Western Siberia, 1888, pp, 6-7.]

The principal evil deity is Khul. Yanykh-Torum. is, however, not the highest of the gods; there is another, higher than he, Kors-Torum. (The Creator), the progenitor of all the gods. Kors-Torum has never revealed himself to man, and the Vogul say that they cannot picture to themselves what he is like, that whatever they know of him is only known through the lesser gods.[1] He never descends to earth, but sometimes sends thither his eldest son, Yanykh-Torum. Yanykh-Torum has the form of a man, but from the splendour of his raiment he shines like gold. Like his father he never carries any weapon. About once a week he descends to earth to see how men's affairs are going on. If they pray to him to send rain or fair weather he gives commands to his younger brother, Sakhil-Torum, who dwells in the dark clouds, to do what is required. Sakhil-Torum, like his brother, has the form of a man, and drives reindeer, which have tusks like a mammoth, in the clouds. His reindeer are laden with casks of water. When they are sluggish he whips them up, and as they plunge under his strokes the water in the casks is spilled and falls on the earth as rain.

The following tale is told about the sons of Yanykh-Torum: When they were grown up their father sent them down to earth. On their arrival, they began to fight with the heroes who lived on earth in those days. To bring about peace, Yanykh summoned his sells and said to them, 'He among you who can first tie his bridle to-morrow to the silver post which stands before my house, shall be made elder and ruler over his brothers and over men.' The next day the first to appear was the youngest son, Mir-Susne-Khum. Since that time he has been the ruler of his brothers and of men, whom they try to keep in peace.[2]

Yanykh-Torum has seven sons, but neither he nor Kors-Torum has any daughters. Besides Yanykh and Kors-Torum and their sons there are many other gods. These latter are of secondary rank, and are specially connected with individuals, the family, or the clan.

Each category of gods has its own special sacrificial places.[1]

Kul-Odyr, or Kul, is the chief of the spirits of darkness, and the secondary dark spirits are known as menkva. These resemble the Koryak kelet in having the power of changing their forms. They are represented as being very tall, with heads of a conical shape. They sometimes kill and devour human beings. Other malicious spirits, called uchchi, inhabit the forest. They have the paws and teeth of a dog. In the forest, too, lives Mis-Khuni. He has many daughters, who try to entice men to live with them as their husbands. If they succeed, this brings good fortune to the fathers of the men thus captured.[2]

In the water lives the good god Vit-Khon, as well as a dark spirit, Vit-Kul. The first was sent by Numi to have charge of the fishes.

The mythology of the Finnic tribes is very rich in tales about heroes, called in Vogul pokatur or odyr. These heroes were continually quarrelling and fighting among themselves, especially about women, therefore Numi punished them by sending a deluge upon the earth.[3]

Representations of gods and fetishes are made of wood, metal, or bone. They are usually very rude in form, and now that these people can obtain children's dolls very cheaply from Russian traders they are ceasing to make their own fetishes.[4]

A man, according to the belief of the Finnic tribes, is composed of three parts: body, shadow (isi), and soul (lili khelmkholas). LiIi khelmkholas passes, after the death of a man, to an infant of the same clan, or, if the clan has become extinct, to one of another clan, but never to an animal. The shadow goes to a cold underworld, situated in the icy seas beyond the mouth of the Obi, and ruled over by Kul Odyr. Here it lives for as long as the term of the dead man's former life on earth, and follows the same pursuits-reindeer-breeding, fishing, &c. Then the shadow begins to grow smaller and smaller, until it is no larger than a blackbeetle, ker-khomlakh (according to some, it actually does turn into a blackbeetle), and finally disappears altogether.[5]

CHAPTER XIV

SOME CEREMONIES

I. THE CIIUKCHEE.

CHUKCHEE ceremonials have as the only object of their performance the material welfare of the community, and incantations are the main substance of their rites.

The Reindeer Chukchee's only regular ceremonials are those connected with the herd; these they call 'sacrifices' or 'genuine sacrifices '. 'Strictly speaking,' says Bogoras, 'every slaughtering of reindeer is a sacrifice and is performed according to certain rules. After the animal is stabbed the Chukchee watch carefully to see on whieh side it falls. To fall on the wounded side is a less favourable omen than to fall on the other; and to fall backwards is still worse, and forebodes misfortune.'[1]

Besides reindeer, dogs are also slaughtered, and sometimes substitute sacrifices are offered, of reindeer made of willow-leaves or even of snow. Most sacrifices are offered to the good spirits. Evil spirits are also sacrificed to, but the offerings to these are made at midnight, in darkness, and are never spoken of.[2]

The most regular sacrifices are the Autumn Slaughtering,[3] Winter Slaughtering,[4] the Ceremonial of Antlers,[5] the Sacrifice to the New Moon, the Sacrifice to the Fire, the Sacrifice for Luck in Hunting," and a ceremonial connected with the killing of wild reindeer bucks.[7] Besides these seasonal ceremonials there is also a Thanksgiving Ceremonial, which each family must perform once or twice a year, on different occasions.[8]

Bogoras gives a summary account of the ceremonials of the Maritime Chukchee as follows: 'The cycle of the ceremonials with the Maritime Chukchee opens with two short ceremonials in the beginning of the autumn, which are often joined together. One of them is a commemorative sacrifice to the dead. The

other is a sacrifice to the sea, in order to ensure good fortune in subsequent sealing on the sea-ice in winter.

'Late in the autumn, or rather in the beginning of the winter, the chief ceremonial of the year is performed. It is consecrated to Keretkim, or is made a thanksgiving ceremonial to the spirits of sea-mammals killed since the fall. Early in spring there follows the ceremonial of boats, which are made ready for the approaching season. In the middle of summer the ceremonial of heads is performed. This is for thanksgiving to the spirits of sea-animals killed since early in the spring.
'These four ceremonials are performed with varying similarity by both the Maritime Chukchee and the Asiatic Eskimo. To these must be added some slight ceremonials effected while moving from the winter lodging to the summer tent.

'Most of the Maritime Chukchee offer sacrifice also in midwinter to the star Pehittin, and perform in the middle of spring a ceremonial analogous to the ceremonial of antlers of the reindeer. breeders, which is called by the same name, Kilvei. The sacrifice to the whale is performed, in addition, each time after a whale has been killed or has drifted ashore.

'Bloody and bloodless sacrifices are offered during these ceremonials. The Maritime Chukchee, of course, can slaughter only dogs for their bloody sacrifices. In comparison with the Koryak, however, they are merciful to their dogs and kill them in no very great numbers. In this, as in other respects, they occupy a middle ground between the American Eskimo, who do not sacrifice dogs, and the Koryak, who often kill almost all the animals of their single team.'[1]

The ceremonial dedicated to Keretkun,[2] the sea-god, is especially important among the Maritime Chukchee. When the seal-gut overcoats for the family (which are said to be similar to those worn by Keretkun and his family), the ceremonial head-dresses and the incantation-paddle, on which there are pictorial representations of prayers, are ready, a net is suspended overhead, and various images of birds and small paddles are hung from it. On each side of the hearth is placed a reindeer-skin, the two skins representing the inner rooms of the house. Keretkun, who is represented by a small wooden image, enters the house and is placed on a lamp, which is put either on one of the skins or

[1. Op. cit., pp. 385-6.

2. Op. cit., pp. 892-401.]

in a sleeping-room. Here he remains until the end of the ceremony. A fire is made before him and kept burning throughout the three days of the ceremonial. Among those people, like the Asiatic Eskimo, who have no wood, a second lamp is kept burning before that on which Keretkun is placed. Puddings made of various roots mixed with oil and liver are sacrificed to the god. On the first day the household enjoys the festival alone, singing and dancing and beating the drum.

'The second day belongs to the guests and particularly to the shamans, who have to show, in turn, their skill in drumming and singing.'[1] It is on this day that, in many villages, the so-called 'exchanging of presents' takes place. Usually, the guests assemble at the entrance of the sleeping-room, bringing various household articles, which they thrust under the partition, loudly demanding what they wish in exchange. The mistress takes whatever is offered and must give in exchange whatever is demanded.

In some cases the exchange is made between relatives only, and especially between those who are partners in the marriages called by Bogoras 'group-marriage'. A man will send his wife to one of his marriage-partners to ask for certain articles, and afterwards the donor sends his wife to ask for an equivalent.

Another variety of ceremonial exchange, which also forms a part of the second day's ceremonies, is what is called by Bogoras the 'trading-dance'.[2] It takes place between the members of a 'compound marriage', beginning with a dance in which a male member of the group has one of the women for his partner. 'Frequently the man looks on only, while the woman dances before him. He must provide a reindeer-skin, however, to spread on the ground under her feet while she is dancing. While the dance is being Performed the other dancers remain quiet, and look on together with the other spectators. After the dance, the man must give some present to the woman; and the following night they sleep together, leaving their respective mates to arrange matters between themselves. On the next day the husband of the woman and the wife of the man perform a similar dance, in which the man gives an equivalent of the present of the day before, and each newly mated couple sleeps together for another night. Such dances are

[1 Ibid.

2 A special meaning of 'trade' in the U.S.A. is the exchange of commodities in business; trading=bartering, swapping'.]

arranged chiefly among cousins or other relatives, who, among the Chukchee, frequently assume the bond of compound marriage. Conversely, a new bond of compound marriage may be concluded through a trading-dance.'

The third day of the Keretkun ceremonial is the women's day. This time it is they who act as drummers and dancers. 'A new[1] detail is that of a night-watch, which must be kept for the sake of Keretkun, who is supposed to stay in the house all the time, This watch is kept by an old man or woman', who is often a shaman, invited specially for this purpose. The shaman sits on
a stool made of a whale's vertebra, and 'sings and beats the drum in a subdued key, in order not to awaken the supernatural guest'. The keeper of the watch on the last night must be a woman.

On the evening of the last day a reindeer is cooked, and the meat distributed among the guests, who carry their shares home with them on departing.

Finally, the image of Keretkun is burned over his lamp. Then all the refuse of the sacrificed reindeer is gathered up and cast into the sea, to symbolize the returning to the sea of all game killed since the last ceremonial. This same symbolic act is performed at almost all of the Maritime ceremonials.

II. THE KORYAK.

The Koryak offer sacrifices to their Supreme Being to secure prosperity for the future. At these sacrifices, some blood from the wounds of the victim, dog or reindeer, are sprinkled on the ground as an offering to the kala, with the words: 'This blood is for thee, kala!'[2] Thus we see that bloody sacrifices among these people are offered to malevolent as well as to benevolent beings.

Besides occasional sacrifices, the Koryak have several sacrificial ceremonies which are regular or seasonal, and all connected with the cult of the animals on -which their livelihood depends. Thus the Maritime Koryak worship sea-animals, and the Reindeer

Koryak their herd. This is illustrated by the following list of festivals:

Maritime Koryak:[1]
1. Whale-festival.
2. The putting away of the skin-boat for the winter.
3. Launching the skin-boat.
4. Wearing of masks.

Reindeer Koryak: [2]
1. Ceremony on the return of the herd from summer pastures.
2. The fawn-festival.

Ceremonies common to both: [3]
1. Bear-festival.
2. Wolf-festival.
3. Practices in connexion with fox-hunting.

Jochelson's description[4] of the wolf-festival is here quoted as being typical of the ritual practices common to both Reindeer and Maritime Koryak:

'After having killed a wolf, the Maritime Koryak take off its skin, together with the head, just as they proceed with the bear; then they place near the hearth a pointed stick, and tie an arrow, called ilhun or elgoi, to it, or drive an arrow into the ground at its butt end. One of the men puts on the wolf-skin and walks around the hearth, while another member of the family beats the drum. The wolf-festival is called elhogicnin, i. e. 'wolf-stick festival'.

'The meaning of this ceremony is obscure. I have been unable to get any explanation from the Koryak with reference to it. "Our forefathers did this way", is all they say. I have found no direct indications of the existence of totemism among the Koryak; but the wearing of the skin of the wolf and of the bear during these festivals may be compared to certain features of totemistic festivals, in which some members of the family or clan represent the totem by putting on its skin.

'The wolf-festival differs from the bear-festival in the absence of the equipment for the home journey.' The reason is this, that

the bear is sent home with much ceremony, to secure successful bear-hunting in the future, bear's meat being considered a delicacy, while the festival serves at the same time to protect the people from the wrath of the slain animal and its relatives. The wolf, on the other band, does not serve as food, but is only a danger to the traveller in the desert. He is dangerous, not in his visible, animal state-for the northern wolves, as a rule, are afraid of men -but in his invisible, anthropomorphic form. According to the Koryak conception, the wolf is a rich reindeer-owner and the powerful master of the tundra . . . [and] avenges [himself] particularly on those that hunt [wolves].' The Reindeer Koryak, who have special reason to fear the wolf on account of their berds, regard this animal as a powerful shaman and an evil spirit.

'After having killed a wolf, the Reindeer Koryak slaughter a reindeer, cut off its head, and put its body, together with that of the killed wolf, on a platform raised on posts. The reindeer-head is placed so as to face eastward. It is a sacrifice to The-One-on-High, who is thus asked not to permit the wolf to attack the herd. Special food is prepared in the evening, and the wolf is fed. The night is spent without sleep, in beating the drum, and dancing to entertain the wolf, lest his relatives come and take revenge. Beating the drum and addressing themselves to the wolf, the people say, "Be well!" (Nimeleu gatvanvota!), and addressing The-One-on-High, they say, "Be good, do not make the wolf bad!"'[1]

III. THE AINU.

Although the bear-festival is common to all the Palaeo-Siberians and is celebrated also by some of the Neo-Siberians, it has reached its highest development among the Ainu. We give here a short description of the principal features of this festival, following Kharuzin's account.[2]

Towards the end of winter the Ainu catch a bear-cub and bring it into the village, where it is reared and fed by a woman. When it is sufficiently grown to break out of its wooden cage, which usually happens some time in September or October, this marks

[1. Op. cit., p. 89.

2. N. Kharuzin, Ethnography, 1905, vol. iv, pp. 371-2. For a more detailed description see B. Pilsudski's Niedzwiedzie Swieto u Ainow (in Sphinx, Warsaw, 1905).]

the time for the holding of the festival. Before the ceremonies, apologies are made to the spirits for the capture and detention of the bear, assurances are given that the treatment of the bear has been marked with the greatest tenderness, and it is explained that, as they cannot feed the animal any longer, they are obliged to kill it. The person entrusted with the conduct of the festival invites all relations and friends, usually practically the whole village. Before the ceremonies are begun, libations are made to the family hearth-fire by the host and all his guests. Sacrifices are made to the spirit-'owner' of the dwelling in a corner of the house sacred to him. The woman who has reared the bear weeps to show her sorrow at its approaching fate. The company approach the cage of the bear, libations are made, and some wine is given to the animal in a special cup. The women and girls dance round the cage, clapping their hands and singing. Then the foster-mother of the bear, and women who have reared other bears for former festivals, perform a dance of their own before the cage, with tears in their eyes, stretching out their hands towards the animal, and uttering endearing words. After some other ritual observances, the bear is taken out of its cage, a cord is fastened round its neck, and a stick is thrust down its throat by the united force of several people, so that the animal is choked to death. With much solemnity the body is laid out, -and surrounded with various embellishments, which are more numerous and elaborate if the animal is a female. Food and drink are offered to the spirit of the victim, and then follow much feasting and merriment, which is intended to render the bear spirit joyous and gay. The body is flayed and disembowelled, and the head cut off, the blood being collected in a pot and drunk by the men only among the guests. The liver is also consumed, and of this each woman and girl present receives a small portion. The rest of the meal is preserved for the next day's feast, and all the guests of both sexes partake of this.

IV. THE TURKIC TRIBES.

(1) THE YAKUT.

There are among the Yakut two kinds of sacrificial ceremonies -bloody and bloodless. The former is that made to abassylars, the latter to aïy and ichchi;[1] so that if one does not know beforehand

[1. Sieroszewski (12 Lat w Kraju Yakatów, p. 389) says that to only one aïy, Bay-Baynay, the god of hunting are bloody sacrifices offered.]

whether the sacrifice is being offered to black or to white spirits, this can be ascertained from the nature of the ceremony. Although bloody sacrifices are not made to Urun-Aïy-Toyon, yet it is customary to dedicate certain animals to him, i. e. such animals are not to be used for work, and mares so dedicated are not to be milked. Formerly it was the custom to dedicate in this manner all mares which had foals: they were let loose to wander on the steppes.

There are some aïy, which although they have this name, yet are of the class of abassy.[1] Sacrifices of the choicest meat and drink are made to them through the fire. The offerings to abassylars have the character of a compromise or bargain. The evil spirit wishes to have the kut (one of the souls) of a man, and the shaman gives instead the kut of an animal.

There are two tribal festivals of the Yakut: a spring festival, aïy-ysyakh, and an autumn festival, abassy-ysyakh. As the name shows, the first is celebrated for the good spirits in general, and for Urun-Aïy-Toyon in particular.[2] After the sacrifice, which is followed by certain sports or games, a dramatic representation of the struggle between spring and winter is given. One man, called the aïy-uola, is dressed in white and mounted on a white horse to represent the spring, while another, abassy-uola, represents winter by being dressed in black or reddish garments and mounted on a horse of corresponding colour.

The abassy-ysgakh is held in autumn, and in the open air like the first festival, but at night. It is dedicated to the black spirits, and especially to Ulu-Toyon. While the first festival is conducted by the clan-father, the second is under the direction of nine shamans and nine shamanesses.[3]

(2) THE ALTAIANS.

Sacrifice to Bai-Yulgen. The description of this ceremony, as given by Mikhailowski,[4] is compiled from the works of the

missionary Wierbicki and the well-known linguist and traveller, Radloff. The ceremony lasts for two or three days, or rather, evenings, the first evening being occupied by the preparatory ritual. A spot is chosen in a thicket of birch-trees in a meadow, and there the kam (shaman) erects a decorative yurta. In this is planted a young birch, crowned with a flag, and having its lower branches lopped off, and nine notches cut in its trunk to represent steps (tapty). The yurta is surrounded by a penfold, and by the entramce to this is set a birch-stick with a noose of horsehair. A holder of the head (Bash-tutkan-kiski) of the sacrificial horse is chosen from among those present. The kam flourishes a birch-twig over the horse to indicate that its soul is being driven to Bai-Yulgen's abode, whither the soul of the Bash-tutkan accompanies it. He then collects spirits in his tambourine, calling each one by name, and answering for each as it arrives: 'I also am here, Kam!' As he speaks he makes motions with his tambourine as if taking the spirits into it. When he has secured his assistants, the kam goes out of the yurta, mounts upon a scarecrow made to resemble a goose, and flapping his arms as if they were wings, chants loudly and slowly:'

The goose replies (through the shaman himself, of course) in a series of quacks-'Ungaigak, ungaigak, kaigaigak gak, kaigai gak.' The kam, still on his feathered steed, pursues the pura (soul) of the sacrificial horse, neighing in imitation of the unwilling victim, until, with the help of the spectators, he drives it into the penfold to the stick with the horsehair noose, the guardian of the pura. After violent efforts, to the accompaniment of neighings and other noises produced by the shaman to imitate the struggles of the pura, the latter frees itself and runs away. It is at last recaptured, and fumigated with juniper by the shaman, who has now dismounted from his goose. Then the real sacrificial horse is brought and blessed by the kam, who thereafter kills it by opening the aorta. The bones and skin form the actual sacrifice. The flesh is consumed by those present at the ceremony, the choicest portion falling to the kam.

[1. Op. cit., p. 63.]

'The most important part of the performance takes place oil the second day after sunset; it is then that the kam must display all his power and all his dramatic art. A whole religious drama is performed, descriptive of the kam's pilgrimage to Bai-Yulgen in heaven. A fire burns in the yurta, the shaman feeds the lords of the tambourine, i.e. the spirits personifying the shamanistic power of his family, with the meat of the offering and sings:[1]

The 'owner' of the fire, representing the power of the family of the master of the yurta, who has organized the festival, is addressed in a similar invocation. Then the kam takes a cup and makes noises with his lips to imitate the sounds of drinking made by an assemblage of invisible guests. He distributes morsels of meat to the company, who devour them as representatives of the unseen spirits. Nine garments, on a rope decked with ribbons, the offering of the host to Yulgen, are fumigated with juniper by the shaman, who sings:

The kam next invokes many spirits, primary and secondary, having first donned his shaman's garment, and fumigated his tambourine, which he strikes to summon the spirits, answering for each, as it arrives, 'Here am I, kam!' Merkyut, the Bird of Heaven, is invoked as follows:

The answering cry of the bird comes from the lips of the shaman: 'Kagak, kak, kak! Kain, here I come!' The kam seems to bend beneath the weight of the huge bird. His tambourine sounds louder and louder, and he staggers under the burden of the vast number of spirit-protectors collected in it. Having walked several times round the birch placed in the yurta, the shaman kneels at the door and asks the porter-spirit for a guide. His request granted, he comes out to the middle of the yurta, and with convulsive movements of the upper part of his body and inarticulate mutterings, beats violently upon the tambourine. Now he purifies the host, hostess, their children, and relatives by embracing them in such a way that the tambourine with the spirits collected in it touches the breast and the drum-stick the back of each. This is done after he has scraped from the back of the host with the drum-stick all that is unclean, for the back is the seat of the soul. Thus all are liberated from the malign influence of the wicked Erlik. Then the people return to their places and the shaman 'drives all potential misfortunes out of doors',[1] and, beating his tambourine close to the ear of his host, drives into him the spirit and power of his ancestors that he may understand the prophecies of the shaman. In pantomime he invests each member of the family with breastplates and hats, and then falls into an ecstasy. He beats his tambourine furiously, rushes about as if possessed, and, after mounting the first step cut in the birch-trunk, runs round the fire and the birch, imitating the sound of thunder. Next he mounts a bench covered with a horse-cloth, which represents the pitra, and cries: [2]

Hurrying on the Bash-tutkan, the kam passes from one zone of heaven to another. The goose once more takes the place of the wearied pura, affording temporary relief to the Bash-tutkan, who relates his woes vicariously by means of the shaman. In the third zone a halt is made, the shaman prophesies impending misfortunes, and declares what sacrifices are to be offered by the district. If he foretells rainy weather he sings:

Similar prophecies may be made in other regions of the sky.

When the Bash-tutkan is rested the journey is continued, progress being indicated by mounting one step higher on the birch for every new zone attained. Variety is given to the performance by the introduction of various episodes. 'In the sixth sphere of heaven takes place the last episodical scene, and this has a comic tinge. The shaman sends his servant Kuruldak to track and catch a hare that has hidden itself. For a time the chase is unsuccessful, now personages are introduced, and one of them, Kereldei, mocks Kuruldak, who, however, at last succeeds in catching the hare.'[1]

Previously, in the fifth heaven, the kam has interviewed Yayuchi ('Supreme-Creator'), and learned many secrets of the future, some of which he communicates aloud. In the sixth heaven he makes obeisance to the moon, and in the seventh to the sun, for these heavens are the abodes of these luminaries. Only a few shamans are powerful enough to mount beyond the ninth heaven. Having reached the highest zone attainable by his powers, the kam drops his tambourine, and beating gently with the drum-stick, makes a humble petition to Yulgen:

'From Yulgen the shaman learns whether the sacrifice is accepted or not, and receives the most authentic information concerning the wealth and the character of the coming harvest; he also finds out what sacrifices are expected by the deity. On such an occasion the shaman designates the neighbour who is bound to furnish a sacrifice, and even describes the colour and appearance of the animal. After his conversation with Yulgen, the ecstasy of the shaman reaches its highest point, and he falls down completely exhausted. Then the Bash-tutkan goes up to him, and takes the tambourine and drum-stick out of his bands. After a short time, during which quiet reigns in the yurta, the shaman seems to awake, rubs his eyes, stretches himself, wrings out the perspiration from his shirt, and salutes all those present as if after a long absence.'[1]

This sometimes concludes the festival, but more often, especially among the wealthy, a third day is spent in feasting and libations to the gods[2]

V. THE MONGOLIC TRIBES.

Sacrifices among the Mongols are either: (a) regular or public (tailgan), or (b) occasional or private (kirik).

Banzaroff says that Georgi, as long ago as the latter part of the eighteenth century, observed three regular sacrificial ceremonies among the Mongols: the spring, summer, and autumn festivals. Banzaroffs traces the origin of these festivals to a period long

antedating the Christian era. The festival which has been best described in recent times is that called urus-sara ('the month of sara'), which is intended to celebrate and symbolize the renewing of all things. When the earth is green again, the flocks increase, and milk is abundant, the Kalmuk make sacrifice of all these gifts in the form of kumys, herbs, and horses. The sacrificial horses are tied to a rope, which is stretched between two poles. A man on horseback, accompanied by another riding a colt, passes along the row of victims, pours over them kumys, and fastens to their manes pieces of pink cloth. Then the sacrifice is offered.[1]

The autumn festival of the Mongols, like the urus-sara, is very ancient. Banzaroff finds mention of it in writers of pre-Christian times, and in the Middle Ages it is referred to by Marco Polo, who says it was celebrated on August 28th. This ceremony is known as sagan-sara ('white month'), and the Mongols used to date their New Year from the time of its celebration. The majority of these people nowadays celebrate the beginning of the year in winter, but they, like the few who adhere to the old date, still call the New Year and the festival which is held then sagan-sara.[2]

An English traveller of the middle of the nineteenth century, who witnessed the celebration of the spring festival in the valley of Ichurish in the Altai, describes it as follows:

'In the spring the Kalmucks offer up sacrifices to their deity; the rich give horses, those who are poor sacrifice sheep or goats. I was present at one of the ceremonies. A ram was led up by the owner, who wished for a large increase to his herds and flocks. It was handed to an assistant of the priest, who killed it in the usual manner. His superior stood near, looking to the east, and began chanting a prayer, and beating on his large tambourine to rouse up his god, and then made his request for multitudes of sheep and cattle. The ram was being flayed; and when the operation was completed, the skin was put on a pole, raised above the, framework, and placed with its head to the east. The tambourine thundered forth its sound, and the performer continued his wild chant. The flesh was cooked in a large cauldron, and the tribe held a great festival.'[3]

Speaking only of the greater Buryat ceremonials, Khangaloff

[1. Op. cit., p. 39.

2. Op. cit., pp. 39-40.

3. T. W. Atkinson, Oriental and Western Siberia, 1858, pp. 382-3.

4. New Materials respecting Shamanism among the Buryat, 1890, p. 97.]

mentions about thirty such, and says that these are by no means all, and that years of further investigation would be necessary to render it possible to give a complete list.

Among the Balagansk Buryat every male child must offer certain sacrifices to the western khats to ensure their protection while the children are still in infancy as well as during their future adult life. These sacrifices, viz. (i) morto-ulan-khurgan, (ii) erkhindkhi-ulan-khurgan, (iii) Charga-tekhe, (iv) yaman-khonin-khoer, must, without fail, be offered by all boys, but upon girls they are not obligatory. Besides these sacrifices there are others which are made on behalf of all young children, irrespective of their sex, to certain zayans and zayanesses, termed ukhan-khata. These are called ukhan-budla, oshkin-budla. We shall quote here Khangaloff's description of the ceremony ukhan-budla:

'Some time after having a child born to him, a Buryat, either fit the instance of a shaman or on his own initiative, will make preparation for the performance of the ceremony called ukhan-budla. A shaman is invited to perform the ceremony. When the shaman appears, water is brought from a spring, or sometimes from a lake or river. Before drawing the water, some copper coins are dropped into the place from which it is taken. A bundle of coarse grass of the steppes, another of rushes, and nine silken threads are prepared. When everything is ready, the shaman makes libation to the zayans and zayanesses, pronouncing the following words:

After this the water is poured into a pot and heated. Then they put into the pot the grass also, and a broom is made of the rushes. The child is placed in a shallow vessel surrounded by nine stones, and the shaman says: "The black stone is the door, the tawny stone is the courtyard." He then takes the broom, dips it into the water, and striking the child lightly with it, tells him tells him that he must not cry, but grow quickly. Now nine knots are made in the nine threads, and they are placed around the child's neck. The water is spilled on the floor of the yurta, and the broom is placed over the door to prevent the entrance of evil spirits. Thus ends the ukhan-budla.'[1]

As a rule Buryat ceremonies are performed by the shamans; but some of the minor ones, such, for instance, as the 'feeding' of the ongons, are conducted by the master of the house. Women's ongons are made and fed by women. Frequently animals are dedicated to ongons, either for some shorter or longer period or for life. Such an animal must not be used for any heavy, work, and no married woman must touch it. The Mongols call this custom setertey, which denotes both the dedication and the taboo.[2]

Another case of the dedication of animals is that which is some times practised with regard to a horse whose master has died. The animal -is taboo, and must not be used for heavy work. Under
ordinary circumstances, when a Buryat dies, his horse is either killed or set loose to wander at large upon the steppes.[3]