The Child and Childhood in Folk-Thought, Alexander F. Chamberlain [first color ebook reader .TXT] 📗

trees, springs, etc., each one of which objects has its own individual name. It is perilous for an Indian to be found outside of his tribal boundaries, wherefore it stands him well in hand to make himself acquainted with the same early in life. Accordingly, the squaws teach these things to their children in a kind of sing-song not greatly unlike that which was the national furore some time ago in rural singing-schools, wherein they melodiously chanted such pleasing items of information as this: ‘California. Sacramento, on the Sacramento River.’ Over and over, time and again, they rehearse all these bowlders, etc., describing each minutely and by name, with its surroundings. Then when the children are old enough, they take them around to beat the bounds like Bumble the Beadle; and so wonderful is the Indian memory naturally, and so faithful has been their instruction, that the little shavers generally recognize the objects from the descriptions of them previously given by their mothers. If an Indian knows but little of this great world more than pertains to boundary bush and bowlder, he knows his own small fighting-ground infinitely better than any topographical engineer can learn it.”

Mr. Powers’ reference to “beating the bounds like Bumble the Beadle” is an apt one. Mr. Frederick Sessions has selected as one of his Folk-Lore Topics the subject of “Beating the Bounds” (352), and in his little pamphlet gives us much interesting information concerning the part played by children in these performances. The author tells us: “One of the earliest of my childish pleasures was seeing the Mayor and Corporation, preceded by Sword-bearer, Beadles, and Blue Coat School boys, going in procession from one city boundary-stone to another, across the meadows and the river, or over hedges and gardens, or anything else to which the perambulated border-line took them. They were followed along the route by throngs of holiday makers. Many of the crowd, and all the Blue boys, were provided with willow-wands, peeled, if I remember rightly, with which each boundary mark was well flogged. The youngest boys were bumped against the ‘city stones.’” In the little town of Charlbury in Oxfordshire, “the perambulations seem to have been performed mostly by boys, accompanied by one or more of their seniors.” At Houghton, a village near St. Ives in Huntingdonshire: “The bounds are still beaten triennially. They are here marked by holes in some places, and by stones or trees in others. The procession starts at one of the holes. Each new villager present is instructed in the position of this corner of the boundary by having his head forcibly thrust into the hole, while he has to repeat a sort of mumbo-jumbo prayer, and receives three whacks with a shovel. He pays a shilling for his ‘footing’ (boys only pay sixpence), and then the forty or fifty villagers march off to the opposite corner and repeat the process, except the monetary part, and regale themselves with bread and cheese and beer, paid for by the farmers who now occupy any portion of the old common lands.”

In Russia, before the modern system of land-registration came into vogue, “all the boys of adjoining Cossack village communes were ‘collected and driven like flocks of sheep to the frontier, whipped at each boundary-stone, and if, in after years two whipped lads, grown into men, disputed as to the precise spot at which they had been castigated, then the oldest inhabitant carrying a sacred picture from the church, led the perambulations, and acted as arbitrator.”

Here also ought to be mentioned perhaps, as somewhat akin and reminiscent of like practices among primitive peoples, “the blason populaire (as it is neatly called in French), in which the inhabitants of each district or city are nicely ticketed off and distinguished by means of certain abnormalities of feature or form, or certain mental peculiarities attributed to them” (204.19). In parts of Hungary and Transylvania a somewhat similar practice is in vogue (392

(1892). 128).

 

StoryTelling.

Some Indian children have almost the advantages of the modern home in the way of storytelling. Clark informs us (420.109):—

“Some tribes have regular storytellers, men who have devoted a great deal of time to learning the myths and stories of their people, and who possess, in addition to a good memory, a vivid imagination. The mother sends for one of these, and, having prepared a feast for him, she and her little ‘brood,’ who are curled up near her, await the fairy stories of the dreamer, who, after his feast and smoke, entertains them for hours. Many of these fanciful sketches or visions are interesting and beautiful in their rich imagery, and have been at times given erroneous positions in ethnological data.”

Knortz refers in glowing terms to the adisoke-winini, or “storyteller” of the Chippeway Indians, those gifted men, who entertain their fellows with the tales and legends of the race, and who are not mere reciters, but often poets and transformers as well (_Skizzen_,

294).

 

So, too, among the Andaman Islanders, “certain mythic legends are related to the young by okopai-ads [shamans], parents, and others, which refer to the supposed adventures or history of remote ancestors, and though the recital not unfrequently evokes much mirth, they are none the less accepted as veracious” (498. 95).

 

Morals.

Among some of the native tribes of California we meet with i-wa-musp, or “men-women” (519. 132). Among the Yuki, for example, there were men who dressed and acted like women, and “devoted themselves to the instruction of the young by the narration of legends and moral tales.” Some of these, Mr. Powers informs us, “have been known to shut themselves up in the assembly-hall for the space of a month, with brief intermissions, living the life of a hermit, and spending the whole time in rehearsing the tribal-history in a sing-song monotone to all who chose to listen.”

Somewhat similar, without the hermit-life, appear to be the functions of the orators and “prophets” of the Miwok and the peace-chiefs, or “shell-men,” of the Pomo (519. 157, 352). Of the Indians of the Pueblo of Tehua, Mr. Lummis, in his entertaining volume of fairy-tales, says: “There is no duty to which a Pueblo child is trained in which he has to be content with the bare command, ‘Do thus’; for each he learns a fairy-tale designed to explain how people first came to know that it was right to do thus, and detailing the sad results which befell those who did otherwise.” The old men appear to be the storytellers, and their tales are told in a sort of blank verse (302. 5).

Mr. Grinnell, in his excellent book about the Blackfeet,—one of the best books ever written about the Indians,—gives some interesting details of child-life. Children are never whipped, and “are instructed in manners as well as in other more general and more important matters.” Among other methods of instruction we find that “men would make long speeches to groups of boys playing in the camps, telling them what they ought to do to be successful in life,” etc. (464. 188-191).

Of the Delaware Indians we are told that “when a mere boy the Indian lad would be permitted to sit in the village councilhouse, and hear the assembled wisdom of the village or his tribe discuss the affairs of state and expound the meaning of the keekg‘ (beads composing the wampum belts)…. In this way he early acquired maturity of thought, and was taught the traditions of his people, and the course of conduct calculated to win him the praise of his fellows” (516. 43). This reminds us of the Roman senator who had his child set upon his knee during the session of that great legislative and deliberative body.

 

Playthings and Dolls.

As Professor Mason has pointed out, the cradle is often the “playhouse” of the child, and is decked out to that end in a hundred ways (306. 162). Of the Sioux cradle, Catlin says:—“A broad hoop of elastic wood passes around in front of the child’s face to protect it in case of a fall, from the front of which is suspended a little toy of exquisite embroidery for the child to handle and amuse itself with. To this and other little trinkets hanging in front of it, there are attached many little tinselled and tinkling things of the brightest colours to amuse both the eyes and the ears of the child. While travelling on horseback, the arms of the child are fastened under the bandages, so as not to be endangered if the cradle falls, and when at rest they are generally taken out, allowing the infant to reach and amuse itself with the little toys and trinkets that are placed before it and within its reach” (306. 202). In like manner are “playthings of various kinds” hung to the awning of the birch-bark cradles found in the Yukon region of Alaska. Of the Nez Percé, we read: “To the hood are attached medicine-bags, bits of shell, haliotis perhaps, and the whole artistic genius of the mother is in play to adorn her offspring.” The old chronicler Lafiteau observed of the Indians of New France: “They put over that half-circle [at the top of the cradle] little bracelets of porcelain and other little trifles that the Latins call crepundia, which serve as an ornament and as playthings to divert the child” (306. 167, 187, 207).

And so is it elsewhere in the world. Some of the beginnings of art in the race are due to the mother’s instinctive attempts to please the eyes and busy the hands of her tender offspring. The children of primitive peoples have their dolls and playthings as do those of higher races. In an article descriptive of the games and amusements of the Ute Indians, we read: “The boy remains under maternal care until he is old enough to learn to shoot and engage in manly sports and enjoyments. Indian children play, laugh, cry, and act like white children, and make their own playthings from which they derive as much enjoyment as white children” (480. IV. 238).

Of the Seminole Indians of Florida, Mr. MacCauley says that among the children’s games are skipping and dancing, leap-frog, teetotums, building a merry-go-round, carrying a small make-believe rifle of stick, etc. They also “sit around a small piece of land, and, sticking blades of grass into the ground, name it a ‘cornfield,’” and “the boys kill small birds in the bush with their bows and arrows, and call it ‘turkey-hunting.’” Moreover, they “have also dolls (bundles of rags, sticks with bits of cloth wrapped around them, etc.), and build houses for them which they call ‘camps’” (496. 506).

Of the Indians of the western plains, Colonel Dodge says: “The little girls are very fond of dolls, which their mothers make and dress with considerable skill and taste. Their baby houses are miniature teepees, and they spend as much time and take as much pleasure in such play as white girls” (432. 190). Dr. Boas tells us concerning the Eskimo of Baffin Land: “Young children are always carried in their mothers’ hoods, but when about a year and a half old they are allowed to play on the bed, and are only carried by their mothers when they get too mischievous.” The same authority also says: “Young children play with, toys, sledges, kayaks, boats, bow and arrows, and dolls. The last are made in the same way by all the tribes, a wooden body being clothed with scraps of deerskin cut in the same way as the clothing of the men” (402. 568, 571). Mr. Murdoch has described at some length the dolls and toys of the Point Barrow Eskimo. He remarks that “though several dolls and various suits of miniature clothing were made and brought over for sale, they do not appear