X-rnTs] THE SWIMMER MANUSCRIPT Hi 



MOONEY 



An iiic()iTip;iblo joster, a sido-splittinf>; joker, Jiid. is tho most por- 

 fect nnthropojnorphizcd trickster you conkl ijiiagiue. Oiieo as i was 

 trying to reconstitute the Cherokee rabbit cycle, and was mobili/Jng 

 all tho available sources of information, Jud. came on one of his 

 numerous visits. Brimful of the interesting subject, I asked him 

 eagerly what ho knew of the rabl)i(,? He concentrated his thoughts 

 on the subject, shifted his weight, looked at tho ceiling, spat on tho 

 floor, and then, as I turned a keen face up from niy notebook, ho 

 drawled: "All I know about tho rabbit is how to eat it." 



What an enormous asset this jocular disposition may be to flit 

 through life sjiiiling and contented, it is less desired in a ni(>dicine 

 man. Yet, in spite of his stingy wife's protests, and unheeding tho 

 jokes and taunts of the people, Jud. goes about his plans, collecting 

 bits of knowledge and scraps of information wherever he can, buying 

 expensive documents, which ho can neither read nor interpret. When 

 he afterwards calls in tho aid of a medicine man — whom he has to 

 pay — to find out what his latest ac(iuisition is all about, he learns 

 that it is incomplete, that tho "directions" are missing, or that it is 

 worthless on account of some other defect. The whole settlement 

 hears about it and roars, but th(5 loudest peal of laughter comes 

 from Jud. Somehow, ho considers it a capital joke, and he could 

 not for a moment entertain tho idea that the joke is on him. 



Since Jud. was politely kicked out of the door by all tho members 

 of the profession, I had the questionable privilege of being honored 

 with his visit daily at first, and slightly less frequently afterwards, 

 lie proved second to none as far as keenness to discuss the subject 

 was concerned. Alas, his ignorance was so manifest that tho exchange 

 of ideas proved not profitable. 



There arc some more medicine men with whom work was done, but 

 they belonged to what may be called an undergraduate class, both 

 as regards professional accomplishments and individuality. 



Ts. (pi. 8, a), widower, 73 years old, and J. (pi. 11, a), his son 

 (died 1928, 47 years old), wore both very charming individuals, but 

 had a rather narrow conception of things. They looked upon their 

 occupation as a job or* a trade rather than as an art or a profession ; 

 to dispose of his "fee" (see p. 95 et seq.;also Mooney, SFC, p. 338) 

 was as important and as awkward a problcni for J. as to cure a patient. 

 If the other medicine men were worthy professors, these were mere 

 Sunday-school teachers. 



Del. (pi. 11, b), 51 3'^ears old, married, could, if he had chosen, 

 have become a bright star in the Cherokee medical (constellation. 

 Only slightly less intelligent than Og., he is even inore retiring and 

 shy than his uncle was. He is a well-providing father for his family, 

 and considers the medicine man's profession too unstable and pre- 

 carious to support his household. I am inclined to believe, more- 



