THE RAVEN MOCKER
Of all the Cherokee wizards or witches the most dreaded is the Raven Mocker
(Kâ′lanû Ahyeli′skĭ), the one that robs the dying man of life. They are of either
sex and there is no sure way to know one, though they usually look withered and
old, because they have added so many lives to their own.
At night, when some one is sick or dying in the settlement, the Raven Mocker
goes to the place to take the life. He flies through the air in fiery shape, with
arms outstretched like wings, and sparks trailing behind, and a rushing sound
like the noise of a strong wind. Every little while as he flies he makes a cry like
the cry of a raven when it “dives” in the air—not like the common raven cry—
and those who hear are afraid, because they know that some man’s life will soon
go out. When the Raven Mocker comes to the house he finds others of his kind
waiting there, and unless there is a doctor on guard who knows how to drivethem away they go inside, all invisible, and frighten and torment the sick man
until they kill him. Sometimes to do this they even lift him from the bed and
throw him on the floor, but his friends who are with him think he is only
struggling for breath.
After the witches kill him they take out his heart and eat it, and so add to their
own lives as many days or years as they have taken from his. No one in the room
can see them, and there is no scar where they take out the heart, but yet there is
no heart left in the body. Only one who has the right medicine can recognize a
Raven Mocker, and if such a man stays in the room with the sick person these
witches are afraid to come in, and retreat as soon as they see him, because when
one of them is recognized in his right shape he must die within seven days.
There was once a man named Gûñskăli′skĭ, who had this medicine and used to
hunt for Raven Mockers, and killed several. When the friends of a dying person
know that there is no more hope they always try to have one of these medicine
men stay in the house and watch the body until it is buried, because after burial
the witches do not steal the heart.
The other witches are jealous of the Raven Mockers and afraid to come into the
same house with one. Once a man who had the witch medicine was watching
a sick man and saw these other witches outside trying to get in. All at once they
heard a Raven Mocker cry overhead and the others scattered “like a flock of
pigeons when the hawk swoops.” When at last a Raven Mocker dies these other
witches sometimes take revenge digging up the body and abusing it.
The following is told on the reservation as an actual happening:
A young man had been out on a hunting trip and was on his way home when
night came on while he was still a long distance from the settlement. He knew of
a house not far off the trail where an old man and his wife lived, so he turned in
that direction to look for a place to sleep until morning. When he got to the
house there was nobody in it. He looked into the âsĭ and found no one there
either. He thought maybe they had gone after water, and so stretched himself out
in the farther corner to sleep. Very soon he heard a raven cry outside, and in a
little while afterwards the old man came into the âsĭ and sat down the fire
without noticing the young man, who kept still in the dark corner. Soon there
was another raven cry outside, and the old man said to himself, “Now my wife is
coming,” and sure enough in a little while the old woman came in and sat down her husband. Then the young man knew they were Raven Mockers and he
was frightened and kept very quiet.
Said the old man to his wife, “Well, what luck did you have?” “None,” said the
old woman, “there were too many doctors watching. What luck did you have?”
“I got what I went for,” said the old man, “there is no reason to fail, but you
never have luck. Take this and cook it and let’s have something to eat.” She
fixed the fire and then the young man smelled meat roasting and thought it
smelled sweeter than any meat he had ever tasted. He peeped out from one eye,
and it looked like a man’s heart roasting on a stick.
Suddenly the old woman said to her husband, “Who is over in the corner?”
“Nobody,” said the old man. “Yes, there is,” said the old woman, “I hear him
snoring,” and she stirred the fire until it blazed and lighted up the whole place,
and there was the young man lying in the corner. He kept quiet and pretended to
be asleep. The old man made a noise at the fire to wake him, but still he
pretended to sleep. Then the old man came over and shook him, and he sat up
and rubbed his eyes as if he had been asleep all the time.
Now it was near daylight and the old woman was out in the other house getting
breakfast ready, but the hunter could hear her crying to herself. “Why is your
wife crying?” he asked the old man. “Oh, she has lost some of her friends lately
and feels lonesome,” said her husband; but the young man knew that she was
crying because he had heard them talking.
When they came out to breakfast the old man put a bowl of corn mush before
him and said, “This is all we have—we have had no meat for a long time.” After
breakfast the young man started on again, but when he had gone a little way the
old man ran after him with a fine piece of beadwork and gave it to him, saying,
“Take this, and don’t tell anybody what you heard last night, because my wife
and I are always quarreling that way.” The young man took the piece, but when
he came to the first creek he threw it into the water and then went on to the
settlement. There he told the whole story, and a party of warriors started back
with him to kill the Raven Mockers. When they reached the place it was seven
days after the first night. They found the old man and his wife lying dead in the
house, so they set fire to it and burned it and the witches together.
Myths of the Cherokee, James Mooney