A loud knocking resounds at the door. We tremble anew and the children
scream. At last the dread powers of evil have come to summon us to the
final ordeal, or perhaps the witch herself, grown bold by reason of
her immunity, has come to wreak fresh vengeance. The flimsy door of
boards is thrown open, and to our unspeakable relief the stern face of
the asipu appears beneath the flickering light of the taper. We shout
with joy, and the children cluster around the priest, clinging to his
garments and clasping his knees.
The Witch-Finding
The priest smiles at our fear, and motioning us to sit in a circle
produces several waxen figures of demons which he places on the floor.
It is noticeable that these figures all appear to be bound with
miniature ropes. Taking one of these in the shape of a Labartu or
hag-demon, the priest places before it twelve small cakes made from a
peculiar kind of meal. He then pours out a libation of water, places
the image of a small black dog beside that of the witch, lays a piece
of the heart of a young pig on the mouth of the figure and some white
bread and a box of ointment beside it. He then chants something like
the following: "May a guardian spirit be present at my side when I draw
near unto the sick man, when I examine his muscles, when I compose his
limbs, when I sprinkle the water of Ea upon him. Avoid thee whether
thou art an evil spirit or an evil demon, an evil ghost or an evil
devil, an evil god or an evil fiend, hag-demon, ghoul, sprite, phantom,
or wraith, or any disease, fever, headache, shivering, or any sorcery,
spell, or enchantment."
Having recited some such words of power the asipu then directs us to
keep the figure at the head of our bed for three nights, then to bury
it beneath the earthen floor. But alas! no cure results. The witch
still torments us by day and night, and once more we have recourse to
the priest-doctor; the ceremony is gone through again, but still the
family health does not improve. The little ones suffer from fever, and
bad luck consistently dogs us. After a stormy scene between husband and
wife, who differ regarding the qualifications of the asipu, another
practitioner is called in. He is younger and more enterprising than
the last, and he has not yet learned that half the business of the
physician is to 'nurse' his patients, in the financial sense of the
term. Whereas the elderly asipu had gone quietly home to bed after
prescribing for us, this young physician, who has his spurs to win,
after being consulted goes home to his clay surgery and hunts up a
likely exorcism.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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