The supreme feat of a conjurer's power is to throw one of his liege spirits into the body of one who refuses to believe in his power; upon which the possessed is taken with swooning and fits. The hair of a shamán is never cut. As among the Aleuts, a wooden mask is necessary to his safe intercourse with any spirit; separate masks are worn for interviews with separate spirits. When a shamán sickens, his relatives fast for his recovery; when he dies, his body is not burned like that of other men, but put in a box which is set up on a high frame. The first night following his death his body is left in that corner of his hut in which he died. On the second night it is carried to another corner, and so on for four nights till it has occupied successively all the corners of the yourt, all the occupants of which are supposed to fast during this time. On the fifth day the body is tied down on a board, and two bones that the dead man had often used in his rites when alive are stuck, the one in his hair and the other in the bridge of his nose. The head is then covered with a willow basket, and the body taken to its place of sepulture, which is always near the sea-shore; no Thlinkeet ever passes the spot without dropping a little tobacco into the water to conciliate the manes of the mighty dead.[V-6]
The Haidahs believe the great solar spirit to be the creator and supreme ruler; they do not however confuse him with the material sun, who is a shining man walking round the fixed earth and wearing a "radiated" crown. Sometimes the moon is also connected in a confused indefinite way with the great spirit. There is an evil spirit who, according to Dunn, is provided with hoofs and horns, though nothing is said as to the fashion of them, whether orthodox or not. The Haidahs, at least those seen by Mr Poole on Queen Charlotte Island, have no worship, nor did they look upon themselves as in any way responsible to any deity for their actions. As with their northern neighbors, a belief in goblins, spectres, and sorcery seems to be the sum of their religion.
With some at least of the Haidahs there was in existence a rite of this sorcery attended by circumstances of more than ordinary barbarity and ferocity. When the salmon season is over and the provisions of winter have been stored away, feasting and conjuring begin. The chief--who seems to be the principal sorcerer, and indeed to possess little authority save from his connection with the preterhuman powers--goes off to the loneliest and wildest retreat he knows of or can discover in the mountains or forest, and half starves himself there for some weeks till he is worked up to a frenzy of religious insanity and the _nawloks_--fearful beings of some kind not human--consent to communicate with him by voices or otherwise. During all this observance, the chief is called _taamish_, and woe to the unlucky Haidah who happens by chance so much as to look on him during its continuance; even if the taamish do not instantly slay the intruder, his neighbors are certain to do so when the thing comes to their knowledge, and if the victim attempt to conceal the affair, or do not himself confess it, the most cruel tortures are added to his fate. At last the inspired demoniac returns to his village, naked save a bear-skin or a ragged blanket, with a chaplet on his head and a red band of alder-bark about his neck. He springs on the first person he meets, bites out and swallows one or more mouthfuls of the man's living flesh wherever he can fix his teeth, then rushes to another and another, repeating his revolting meal till he falls into a torpor from his sudden and half-masticated surfeit of flesh. For some days after this he lies in a kind of coma, "like an over-gorged beast of prey," as Dunn says; the same observer adding that his breath during that time is "like an exhalation from a grave." The victims of this ferocity dare not resist the bite of the taamish; on the contrary, they are sometimes willing to offer themselves to the ordeal, and are always proud of its scars.[V-7]