multiplied it in wood and stone; and the idols thus easily manufactured they call
sjadæi, because they wear a human (or semi-human) countenance (sja.) They
attire them in reindeer skins, and embellish them with innumerable coloured
rags. In addition to the sjadæi, they adopt as idols any curiously contorted tree or
irregularly shapen stone; and the household idol (Hahe) they carry about with
them, carefully wrapped up, in a sledge reserved for the purpose, the hahengan.
One of the said Penates is supposed to be the guardian of wedded happiness,
another of the fishery, a third of the health of his worshippers, a fourth of their
herds of reindeer. When his services are needed, the Hahe is removed from its
resting-place, and erected in the tent or on the pasture-ground, in the wood, or on
the river’s bank. Then his mouth is smeared with oil or blood, and before him is
set a dish of fish or flesh, in return for which repast it is expected that he will use
his power on behalf of his entertainers. When his aid is no longer needed, he is
returned to the hahengan.
Besides these obliging deities, the Samojede believes in the existence of an order
of invisible spirits which he calls Tadebtsois. These are ever and everywhere
around him, and bent rather upon his injury than his welfare. It becomes
important, therefore, to propitiate them; but this can be done only through the
intervention of a Tadibe, or sorcerer; who, on occasion, stimulates himself into a
wildly excited condition, like the frenzy of the Pythean or Delphic priestess.
When the credulous Samojede invokes his assistance, he attires himself in full
necromantic costume: a kind of shirt, made of reindeer leather; and trimmed
with red cloth. Its seams are similarly trimmed; and the shoulders are decorated
with red cloth tags, or epaulettes. A visor of red cloth conceals his face, and
upon his breast gleams a plate of polished metal.
Thus imposingly arrayed, the Tadibe takes his drum of reindeer skin,
ornamented with brass rings, and, attended by a neophyte, walks round and
round with singular stateliness, while invoking the presence of the spirits by a
discordant rattle. This gradually increases in violence, and is accompanied by the
droning incantation of the words of enchantment. In due time the spirits are
supposed to appear, and the Tadibe proceeds to consult them: beating his drum
more gently, and occasionally pausing in his lugubrious chant,—which,
however, the novice is careful not to interrupt,—to listen, as he pretends, to the
answers of the deities. At length the interrogations cease; the chant breaks into a
fierce howl; more and more loudly rattles the drum: the Tadibe appears
possessed by a supernatural influence; his body writhes; the foam-drops gather
on his lips. All at once the wild intoxication ceases; and the Tadibe delivers the