The Noaide and the Sacred Drum
Jens Andreas Friis (1821–1896) was professor of Sami language at the University of Christiania and the author of the first comprehensive Sami-language dictionary and grammar. His Lappisk Mythologi (1871) remains the most systematic 19th-century treatment of Sami religion in any Scandinavian language. This translation renders §1 (the Noaide: Sami shaman-priest-physician) and §3 (the Gobdas: the sacred drum) from Friis's Norwegian. These sections form the core of Friis's account of Sami shamanic practice — the institution and its instrument together. §2, a comparative digression on the Greenlandic Angakok, has been omitted. The original Sami terms have been preserved throughout as Friis employs them. This is an Archival Text: Friis writes in Norwegian; the Sami-language sacred content — the joik-texts, sorcery-songs, and drum-chants — had by his time been largely suppressed by Christian missionaries and survived only in fragments. What Friis preserves is the institutional memory: what the noaidi was, what the drum was for, how both worked. That memory, too, belongs to the archive.
§1. The Noaide of the Sami: Priest, Seer, and Physician
In the pagan worship of the Sami, their Noaider — or Shamans — play so central a role that it is necessary to give a preliminary description of them and their principal instrument, the Runebom, before proceeding to a presentation of the actual theology.
"Noaide" or "Noide" means in Sami, as "Noita" does in Finnish, one who understands sorcery — one acquainted with supernatural means, a master of hexcraft. A more original meaning of the root "noid" or "noit" can no longer be demonstrated.
The Noaider were not only the people's priests, wise men, seers, and counsellors, but also their physicians. They were, in sum, intermediaries between the gods or the spirit world and human beings. Invisible beings and magical means stood at their disposal; they could benefit and harm both people and animals, and were therefore consulted in matters both good and ill. No clear indication exists, however, that they served as judges or arbitrators in disputes.
Although the number of Noaider was very great, not just anyone could become a Noaide without further ado, still less attain any reputation as such. In reality, only very few had achieved renown in a wider circle. But the greater the renown, the greater the reward — for they were paid for their assistance and advice. The Noaider had no fixed district or congregation within which they operated. It depended entirely on their skill whether they were sought by many or few, from near or far. Some must especially have achieved great fame, for their names are still remembered and their deeds are still spoken of to this day in various legends and tales — for instance, "Bæive Barnek" (the Sons of the Sun), "Guttavuorok" (he who can assume six shapes), and others. These were once the most renowned shamans among the Sami, just as Vainemoinen, Ilmarinen, and others were among the Finns.
Every true Noaide had to be able, through various bodily or spiritual exertions, to bring himself to the point of falling into a kind of stupor or magnetic sleep. In this state he had the alleged or actual visions which, upon recovering himself, he proclaimed to the assembly as revelations. While his body lay as if dead, it was believed that his soul, with the help of a "Saivvo-guolle" or "Saivvo-lodde" — a fish or bird from the realm of the dead, which always stood in his service — could travel to heaven, to the realm of the dead, or to any place on earth, and accomplish what was required: whether receiving answers from the gods or the departed, or gathering information about persons dwelling far away.
The Noaider were of course great charlatans, and in most cases such a fainting fit was merely feigned, though executed so convincingly as to deceive at least the most credulous and the least initiated in the art. Some Noaider, however, seem to have genuinely brought themselves into a kind of stupor or fantasizing state — partly by exhausting the body through fasting, partly by consuming various substances, and partly through proceedings that powerfully affected the senses and imagination. This trance state must presumably be far easier to achieve for the Sami and other closely related polar peoples than for other, more nerve-robust nations.
For it is a well-attested fact, noted not only by older writers such as Tornæus, Scheffer, Hogstrom, and Leem, but also by more recent travellers such as Castrén and the author himself on his journeys in Finmark and Russian Lapland, that the Sami are governed by a peculiar nervousness — or whatever one may call this singular susceptibility among them — whereby they, and especially older women, can at the slightest provocation, merely by a sudden shout or the crack of a spark flying from the fire, leap into the most violent ecstasy or frenzy. In such an excited and unconscious state they strike out at friend and foe alike with whatever they hold in hand or can seize nearest — axe or knife — speak incomprehensibly, or behave altogether as those who have suddenly lost their senses, until at last they faint away or fall into a stupor, and only after some rest begin again to speak rationally, though without clear memory of what has passed.
Hogstrom reports that it has sometimes occurred "that in church the whole crowd has been found in a swoon, and that occasionally one or another of the congregation has leapt up in frenzy and struck those sitting nearby." Castrén tells that he himself provoked such a state in a Sami woman by suddenly frightening her, and that he narrowly escaped feeling her nails in his face. Since this peculiar nervousness is quite common among the Sami, it has its own expression in the language: "keuvot," a verb meaning to be mad, and the one susceptible to such nervous excitation is called "keuvolis." Presumably this nervousness is not peculiar to the Sami alone, but occurs also among other polar nomadic peoples who, like the Sami, lead a solitary life on the desolate and dreary tundras of those northern regions. From Schrenck's Reise durch die Tundren der Samojeden one sees that even peasants near Archangel suffer from similar nervous attacks — a malady there called "ikota." Some Sami claim they contracted this susceptibility by being frightened in childhood; others can give no definite cause.
This nervousness sometimes manifested itself to an unusual degree in certain individuals. As children they were often sickly, prone to delirious fantasies and feverish visions and dreams. Such persons were then considered especially fitted for the noaidi office. They were appointed to it and received instruction from elders initiated into the art. But what this instruction actually consisted in, no author has been able to explain. Even Snorri Sturluson, who tells that Guttorm the White sent his daughter Gunhild to King Motle in Finmark to be trained in Lappish magic, gives no further details.
Naturally the Noaider's reputation depended in part on keeping their art secret, and they would least of all confide in the Christian priest. Yet the instruction must for a large part have consisted in the communication of sorcery-songs and magical formulas, along with explanation of the meaning of all the hieroglyphic figures on the Runebom, its use, and the sleight-of-hand tricks necessary for its proper operation. Likewise the apprentice must have practised the art of feigning or actually entering a swoon.
Jessen reports having been told "that the Noaide candidates received formal instruction from the gods — partly through 'Noaide-gass3e,' a company of serving spirits which every Noaide always had to have, and partly in sleep. The Noaide-gass3e would partly instruct such candidates directly themselves, and partly bring them into Saivvo, the realm of the dead, so that they might receive instruction from deceased Noaider." "When the candidate," Jessen continues, "had been duly instructed in all that belonged to the art of sorcery, he was initiated into his office by the following ceremony: A gathering of several Noaider was held, and the eldest of these sat down together with the candidate outside the tent- or hut-door, so that their feet lay together and blocked the entrance. Thereupon the young Noaide began to joik — sing sorcery-songs — while beating the shaman-drum. When now the Saivvo-gass3e, the spirits from the other world, arrived in company and passed over their feet into the tent, in such a way that the young Noaide alone could perceive and recognize that the Saivvo-gass3e touched and passed over his feet, while the elder Noaide did not feel this touch but noticed other signs of the Saivvo-gass3e's presence — then the candidate was immediately declared Noaide, and from that moment all were obliged to acknowledge him as such. From that same moment the Saivvo-gass3e also began an intimate association with the young Noaide, and he could choose as many of them as he wished to be his 'Noaide-gass3e' — guardian spirits and servants."
All authors report that the Noaider were the Sami's physicians. Through a transmitted education from their ancestors, and through their own long experience and reflection, some of these Noaider certainly acquired both knowledge of nature and skill in healing various external illnesses or bodily injuries. But to dazzle the multitude, they also performed a great deal of conjuring. Likewise, the Noaider would sometimes, when executing some joint task, employ their own secret language, or use ordinary Sami words in meanings entirely different from daily speech.
The Noaider's principal medical function, however, did not consist in healing accidental bodily ailments by various reasonable external remedies. A true Noaide had to be able to make a journey into the realm of the dead in order to seek counsel and aid there. For the Sami believed that all dangerous illnesses whose external cause was unknown, and against which they had no specific remedies, derived from their own deceased relatives. It was these who in such cases either wished to have the sick kinsman come to them for company, or wished to punish him for some transgression. When illness had such a cause, it naturally availed nothing to seek help in natural remedies; a Noaide had to be fetched to make a journey to "Jabmi-aibmo" — the realm of the dead — to persuade the departed to give up their wish, or to appease them with a promise of sacrifice. Such a Jabmi-aibmo journey was undertaken with the aid of a "Saivvo-guolle" or "Saivvo-lodde" — a guardian spirit, about which §30 of the original treats at greater length.
A Noaide might distinguish himself in one particular respect above other Noaider. Accordingly, Noaider were characterized with various names. There were "Bahast dakke Noaiddek" (from bahast dakkat, to do harm) — Noaider who could inflict injury on people and animals. "Galgge-Noaiddek" (from galggat, to resolve, to carry out) — Noaider who could find the cause of a misfortune and remedy it. "Girdde-Noaiddek" (from girddot, to fly) — Noaider who could transform themselves into various animals. In Lule Lapmark in the seventeenth century there is said to have lived a Noaide surnamed Guttavuorok — "he who can assume six shapes." The same ability to assume the forms of various animals was also possessed by the Greenlandic Angakut, the Samojedic Tadibers, and the Finnish shamans. Thus it is told of Vainemoinen that when the people of Tuonela, the underworld, had spread out a copper net to catch him, he:
Hastily shifts his shape,
creeps out as an iron-worm,
winds himself as an adder
crosswise through the River Tuoni,
through Tuoni's net in the water.(Kalevala 16, 270)
The Noaider had to be free of any bodily defect. When they grew so old as to begin losing their teeth, they were considered unfit for their office.
§3. The Gobdas: The Sacred Drum
All the shamans of the Turanian peoples appear to have employed, in the exercise of their arts, an instrument of greater or lesser resemblance to a drum. The drum of the Greenlandic Angakok is described as entirely simple, formed from a ring of wood or fishbone and quite small. Over the ring a sealskin was stretched, and a handle was fastened to the ring. It was always used when an Angakok was to practise his art, but also often for profane purposes — in games and other merriment. In both cases it was beaten with a wooden stick and accompanied with song.
The Samojedic Tadibers' "Pjanser" is described by Schrenck as a flat drum, only four inches high and one and a half feet in diameter. It was covered with the skin of a freshly slaughtered reindeer, after the hair had been shaved off. The skin was stretched on while still raw and pliable, so that it tightened as it dried. On the opposite side, two crosspieces lying over one another and fastened at the crossing yet slightly moveable served as a handgrip. To beat the drum one used a small staff covered with short-haired foal-skin. The Tadibers hold the drum in the left hand and the staff in the right. At first they beat very softly and in a slow tempo, while in a monotonous, singing tone — echoed by an assistant — they emit: Goj, goj, goj! By these calls, also used to lure the reindeer, "Tadebsier" or spirits are summoned and presented with the questions to which answers are sought.
Ph. Joh. v. Strahlenberg writes in his work Das nördliche und östliche Theil von Europa und Asia (Stockholm, 1730, p. 321) that the Barabintzer, a pagan people between the cities of Tara and Tobolsk, possessed and used drums like those of the Sami, with a drum-head of skin and a handle that could be turned; the shaman held the drum in the left hand and the drumstick in the right. Georgi likewise reports in his Reise im Russisch. Reich (St. Petersburg, 1775) that the Tungus shamans had a drum described as "egg-shaped, three feet long, half as wide, the rim less than a handspan high, and covered with a skin on one side only. This skin was sometimes painted with a star-pattern, sometimes with birds, animals, and serpents. The other side was open. Inside the drum was a handle, and outside it a pair of iron rods from which sheet-metal figures hung that clashed together during drumming and made a ringing sound. The drumstick was covered with hare-skin, flat like a small washboard, and furnished at one end with two iron prongs intended to represent swans."
None of these authors, however, have anything to say about the significance of the figures found on certain of the Siberian shaman-drums. It seems therefore that among all these peoples the drum was used primarily to heighten the imagination, or to bring the shaman and the audience into the right mood and tension through the beating and accompanying song. Perhaps the drum also served as a means to better conceal certain conjuring tricks.
The Sami Runebom may also have been used to these ends — but what especially distinguished it and gave it worth and authority in the eyes of the people was the circumstance that all the Sami gods were depicted upon it in more or less hieroglyphic-looking figures, each within his own domain or the division of the universe where he was believed to dwell. The sun, moon, stars, wild animals, fishing waters, the Sami himself, his reindeer, and his dwelling were likewise depicted on the Runebom. The Norwegians — the Christians — with the things most characteristic of them also had their place there. In all, images of everything that could interest the Sami, or about which he might desire information, were to be found.
The Sami Runebom was thus simultaneously the people's Bible and their oracle, and at the same time a kind of map of this world and the other. Among other Turanian peoples, the shaman-drum seems not to have had nearly this significance. The Sami Runebom was also larger than those of the Samojeds or Greenlanders and was crafted with far greater care.
In descriptions of this renowned instrument, various authors diverge somewhat from one another — presumably because the Runebom was not identical in the different districts of Finmark and Lapmark, and because every Noaide, according to his greater or lesser knowledge of the world of the gods or particular interests, had more or fewer figures on his oracle. The outer form also varied.
Some examples still survive, and drawings of others exist. But approximately seventy drums that Th. v. Westen had sent down from Finmark to Copenhagen were lost in the Orphanage Fire there in 1728.
The Sami name for the Runebom was Gobdas or Kobdas — also often written, from ignorance of the language, as Gobda, Gobdes, or Kobdes. The word is most plausibly derived from Govva or Kovva (image) and the derivational suffix -das. Govvadas thus signifies "something upon which several images are drawn" — a collection of images — making the Norwegian expression "Runebom" (rune-drum) a kind of translation of the original Sami name.
The wooden frame of the Runebom was made like a flat-bottomed bowl or box of oval — or more precisely egg-shaped — form, sometimes perfectly round. Only rarely did it consist merely of a ring of wood like a barrel-hoop, with a handle of reindeer antler attached, as in the example preserved in Bergen Museum. The wood from which the blank for the more artistically worked drums was taken had to be birch, spruce, or fir — but, according to Leem, "it had to have grown in a spot where the sun was never seen, and apart by itself, far from other trees." Moreover the trunk "must not have grown twisted against, but with, the course of the sun" — presumably to please the sun-god or the sun, since the sun was always painted in the middle of the Runebom. Such a hollowed wooden bowl was adorned on its back or outer side with carved circles, triangles, squares, and various other figures. The bowl's base was not solid but had two oblong holes in the middle, so that the remaining wood formed a handle.
In several places along the outer edge of the bowl, holes were made in which cords could be fastened — wound with tin wire and carrying brass rings or other trinkets at the end. These rings were offerings or gifts presented to the Runebom in gratitude when someone, after consulting it, had been successful in their undertaking. Crosses were likewise painted on it with the heart-blood of a shot bear, and small inlaid brass nails showed how many bears the particular owner had killed.
The bowl was generally about one ell in diameter on the longer side. According to Tornæus, some were considerably larger — he reports that the Kemi Sami had "surrendered drums so large and broad that they could not be transported, as they would not fit in a reindeer sled, and had to be burned on the spot." In the French edition of Scheffer's Lapponia there is a drawing of a Runebom about three ells in diameter.
Over the concave side of the wooden bowl, a shammy-dressed reindeer skin was stretched. This was nailed fast on the outer side, just below the rim, with wooden pegs — or laced fast with reindeer sinews drawn through small holes made for the purpose. The skin was stretched as tight as possible so as to obtain the right tone. On the upper side it was shammy-dressed white and smooth — for upon this surface were now painted, with a decoction of alder bark or, according to Tuderus, of reindeer blood and alder bark, all manner of hieroglyphic figures. These could be more or fewer, and more or less well executed, according to the Noaider's knowledge and skill in drawing. The figures depicted all that could interest the Sami or about which he might seek guidance — gods in their cosmic zones, humans in their social roles, animals in their territories, the sun at the centre of all.
§4. The Horn Hammer and the Divination Ring (Coarve-væcer and Vuorbe)
To strike the drum, a drumstick of reindeer horn was used — called simply "Hammeren" (the Hammer) by Scheffer and others, and "Coarve-væcer" (Horn Hammer) by Leem. It resembled a Latin T and was made from wild reindeer horn, sometimes covered with beaver-skin. Both the head and the shaft were cut from a single piece of horn, and it could be six to eight inches in length. At the end of the shaft a hole was made, in which cords and various trinkets could be fastened. The hammer-head itself bore various decorative carvings, like those illustrated in Scheffer.
Far more important than the hammer, however, was another object required for the drum's divination use. Some authors call it the "Viser" (Pointer); Tornæus calls it the "Arpa" or "Vuorbe" — a plumb-lot, from which the verb vuorbadallet (to cast lots) derives. Leem calls it the "Veiko" — that is, something of brass, a metal held in higher esteem among the Sami than silver or gold when the matter carried religious significance, or when it was to be used in amulets. This so-called Index or Pointer was ordinarily made as a ring of thick brass or copper wire, roughly one and a half inches in diameter. Scheffer reports having seen one made of bone, fashioned in the form of a triangle. Around the main ring were attached several smaller rings — or, if the ring was triangular or quadrilateral, a small ring at each corner — so that the whole might move more easily across the drumskin.
This brass ring represented the Sun; the smaller rings perhaps its rays. Whenever the drum was to be consulted, the ring was always placed first upon the image of the Sun, drawn in the centre of the Runebom.
§5. The Use of the Drum (Runebommens Brug)
Whenever a Sami was to undertake anything of the slightest importance — making a journey, going out to hunt or fish, or seeking remedy in a case of illness — he first sought to ascertain the outcome by consulting the Runebom. Not everyone who owned a drum and consulted it was therefore a Noaide. On the contrary, the Runebom seems to have been found in every Sami household, much as the Bible stands on the bookshelf of every Christian family — and the least initiated believed most fervently in the oracle. Since the drum was so widespread, it is no wonder that the Nærø Manuscript records that Th. v. Westen in 1723 "had received from converted Noaider more than 100 Runebomme." When no drum was at hand, a painted bucket-lid, a bowl, or an axe might also be used.
In ordinary cases and everyday matters, the head of the family consulted the drum himself. When the affair was of particular importance — concerning life and death, or the welfare of the whole village — a Noaide was summoned. The people then gathered around him, men and women all in their best garments. When everything was properly arranged, the Noaide grasped the Runebom — first warming the skin near the fire to give it the right tension — holding it with his left hand by the handle, the painted side facing his chest, and sank to his left knee, the right upright; whereupon the whole assembly likewise fell to their knees.
He then took the hammer and ring in his right hand, laid the ring upon the image of the Sun, and began to strike the skin very softly — around the ring or pointer, which at these strokes hopped and moved hither and thither. Then he struck harder; the ring moved faster — until at last it stopped on one figure or another and would not move from there, however much the Noaide continued to strike. All of this proceeded during a song "whose meaning," says the author of the Trondhjems Manuscript, "no Finn has been willing to confess." The whole assembly sang together — the men with stronger voice, the women with softer.
According as the ring moved in one direction or another, or finally came to rest upon this or that image, the Noaide interpreted the will of the gods or gave answers on the matters inquired. It was generally counted a good omen when the ring from the outset followed the course of the Sun. One might then expect good fortune in the undertaking, "and good health for people and livestock, near and far." If it moved in the opposite direction, the outcome was doubtful, or some misfortune threatened to come.
"If one consulted the drum regarding a forthcoming journey, and the Veiko or ring moved toward the image of Iddedes-guovso — the dawn — it was thereby learned that one should set out in the morning. If instead it moved toward Ækkedes-guovso — the evening glow — the journey should be undertaken in the evening. If en route they again consulted the drum, and the ring moved toward Ækkedes-guovso, one should continue travelling through the whole night. But if it turned toward Iddedes-guovso, one should remain until morning."
"If the Sami was to go fishing on some lake, and the ring moved straight into the centre of the symbol for a fishing-water (Runebom No. 1, Fig. 21), that was a good sign for a good catch; if it came only to the edge but not within, it was a sign that Gull Ibmel — the god of fish — would have an offering before the fishing began; but if the ring would not come near the fishing-water at all and kept its distance from it, that was a sign that one would catch nothing, whatever one might offer or vow."
"When the drum was consulted on behalf of one who lay dying, and the ring then moved toward Jabmikuri-balges (see Runebom No. 1, Fig. 17) — the Road of the Dead — that was a certain sign that the sick would die; wherefore an offering was immediately made to whichever of the Jambmekerne — the Dead — was believed to wish to take the sick person to them. When after the completed offering the ring moved back toward the place on the drum where a Sami tent is drawn (see Runebom No. 1, Fig. 22), there was still sure hope that the sick had through the offering been saved from death and would for a while yet dwell in his tent; but if the ring at a renewed attempt went straight into Jabmi-aibmo — the Realm of the Dead (see Runebom No. 1, Fig. 17) — then neither prayer nor payment availed; the sick must die, though he vowed to offer all his reindeer, or were rich enough to purchase and sacrifice all the cattle and horses that could be found — 'even though they hold that in the sacrificing of a horse to the Dead there is singular power.'"
The most skilled Noaider presumably placed little confidence in the drum themselves — at least when they personally operated it — since they naturally knew very well that everything depended on the drummer's artistry: whether the ring went here or there, or came to rest on this or that image. To ease the operation, the holes at the handle in the drum's base were presumably arranged so that the hand from below could come into contact with the skin upon which the ring moved. But since a Noaide's consultation of the drum was a well-paid service, these men naturally took great care not to reveal anything to the uninitiated, credulous multitude, among whom it was necessary to maintain the oracle in the highest possible esteem.
The Runebom had its appointed place in a specially consecrated spot in the Boasso — the rearmost compartment of the tent — and was stored together with its accessories in a pouch of loon-skin. No adult woman was permitted to touch this sacred instrument. If any adult woman passed over the road by which the Runebom had been carried, before three days had elapsed, she was in danger of dying or suffering great misfortune. If it was nonetheless absolutely necessary for a woman to travel on the road where the drum had been conveyed, she was required to present a brass ring to the Runebom as an atoning offering. To forestall such misfortune, the drum was not only to be carried in and out through the back door of the tent and stored in the Boasso, but during movement from one place to another it had to be carried in the last sled of the line — by a man — or, for even greater safety, the drum would be taken by paths where no one ordinarily travelled.
"After the Sami priests," writes L. Læstadius, "had learned that the Sami always conveyed the oracle-drum in the last kjæris or sled in the Raiden — the line of sleds — when moving past church stations, they did not fail to hold inspection in that last sled; and when the drum was found, it was of course confiscated." The Sami on their side also soon learned from bitter experience and took their precautions.
As a supplement to this account of the Runebom and its use, the following story from the Nærø Manuscript may here be set down:
"The Sami Andreas Sivertsen had an only son, Johannes, who in his twentieth year fell into so dangerous an illness — a violent fever — that no one believed he would live. The father grieved unspeakably over his son's sickness and fully expected death, and used every means and runic art or sorcery he knew — all to no avail. At last he resolved to take recourse to the Runebom. He was himself a great Noaide, but since this was a matter that touched him so closely — his own flesh-and-blood son — it could not, according to his articles of faith, be done by him consulting the drum himself. He therefore sent for his late wife's brother, who was as skilled in the Noaide-art as himself. After the preliminary ceremonies had been observed (§30), the brother-in-law laid the ring on the Runebom and began to strike with the hammer. But what happened? The ring moved straight to Jabmikuri-balges — the Road of the Dead — directly facing the Realm of the Dead, at which there was no small consternation in the father, especially when he saw that despite the most violent drumstrokes and all manner of conjurations the ring would not budge but stayed as if glued to its spot — until, at the brother-in-law's counsel, he vowed to the Dead a doe-reindeer. Then at last the ring moved at new drumstrokes, but went only as far as Ristbalges — the Christians' Road — wherefore the brother-in-law struck again. But now the ring went once more back to the Road of the Dead. The father then vowed yet another reindeer — a bull-reindeer — to Mubben-aibmo (that is, Satan), that his son might live; and thereupon the ring moved from the Road of the Dead to Ristbalges, yet would not go on to the place on the Runebom where the Sami tents are drawn (see Runebom 1, Fig. 22). At last the brother-in-law struck a third time with many conjurations — but the ring as before went back to the Road of the Dead and stayed there, until the father, besides the two reindeer, further vowed a Sturik — a horse — to Vuollenere-Noaide, the Noaide of the Realm of Death, 'so that he might rune in such a way that the ring, at the Dead's command, might go to the Sami tents, and the father thus be assured that his son would live.'
But this time there was even less answer than before; for the ring at every stroke stood fast on the Road of the Dead, so that the father saw nothing before him but his son's certain death. The brother-in-law, who had conducted this pious transaction, was also entirely confounded and could not make sense of why the ring was now more disobedient and the gods more ungracious — when so much had been promised — than before, when only little had been offered. At last he hit upon this course: he went down to the shore and took there a stone that was oblong. He first consecrated this stone with many conjurations and joiking — singing. Then he hung it freely suspended on a strap outside the tent and left it hanging until it hung perfectly still; then cast himself face down on the ground, offered his prayer to it, and asked Mubben-aibmo — Satan — why it came about that the ring would not leave the Road of the Dead, since he, the Dead, and Vuollenere-Noaide had all been promised such great and magnificent an offering. Whereupon from the stone he received the audible answer: that either the promised gifts must be sacrificed in the very moment he had uttered the vow, or else the boy must die — unless there was another human life to give in his place.
These were hard conditions; for it was impossible for the father to be as precise in his payment as Satan demanded, since he had neither the vowed reindeer nor the horse at hand. And if that could not be done — where would he, under Satan's second condition, find a human being who would willingly offer up his life for the rescue of his sick son's life? Here was no other recourse: if the father wished his son to live, he himself must die — which he also gladly resolved. And as soon as this resolution was taken, by which he truly proved a greater love for his son than for his own soul, the brother-in-law struck the drum again — where the ring still stood in its former place — and now it moved to the Sami tents, which signified life and health for the sick man. And strangest of all: the son immediately thereafter began to improve, while the father in the same moment fell mortally ill; and the son on the afternoon of the second day was fully restored, at the very moment when the father with a wretched death gave his wretched soul to the devil.
The gratitude the son — saved from death by his father's death — showed him was this: that at his father's dying wish he offered a bull-reindeer to his father's soul, so that he might travel in greater comfort through the Realm of the Dead wherever he wished."
"The Finn Johannes, with whom this occurred five years ago, and who now serves in my parish at a farm called Finne in Ranen Parish in Helgeland, has together with other Sami and their wives confessed this passage to Th. v. Westen, in my presence, here in my house, in January of the present year 1723." (Nærø Manuscript, pp. 11–13.)
Colophon
Translated from the Norwegian by Good Works tulkus, 2026. Source: J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania: Alb. Cammermeyer, 1871). §§1, 3, 4, and 5 translated. §2 (comparative treatment of the Greenlandic Angakok) omitted as digression. §§6–40, covering drum figure descriptions, all Sami deities, sacred sites, and folk tales, remain untranslated.
Friis (1821–1896) was professor of Sami language at the University of Christiania and author of the first comprehensive Sami-Norwegian dictionary (Lexicon Lapponicum, 1887). He was the foremost Norwegian-language authority on Sami religion in the 19th century and personally conducted fieldwork in Finmark and Russian Lapland over several decades.
This is an Archival Text — translation from Friis's Norwegian ethnographic prose, not from Sami-language sacred texts. The Sami-language content (joik-texts, sorcery-songs, drum-incantations) had been largely suppressed by Christian missionaries before Friis's time; no full collection of noaidi sacred songs existed for him to record. What he preserved was the institutional memory: the office, the instrument, and how both worked. The principal secondary sources Friis cites: Leem (Beskrivelse over Finmarken), Jessen, Tornæus, Scheffer (Lapponia), Hogstrom, Castrén, Schrenck (Reise durch die Tundren der Samojeden), Georgi (Reise im Russisch. Reich), Strahlenberg (Das nördliche und östliche Theil von Europa und Asia).
No existing English translation of Friis's Lappisk Mythologi was consulted.
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Source Text: §1 — Lappernes Noaide (Norwegian)
From J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania, 1871), pp. 1–8. OCR from archive.org identifier lappiskmythologi00frii.
§ 1.
Lappernes „Noaide" eller Præst, Spaamand og Læge.
I Lappernes hedenske Gudsdyrkelse spiller deres Noaider eller Schamaner en saa vigtig Rolle, at det er nødvendigt at give en foreløbig Beskrivelse af disse og deres fornemste Redskab, „Runebommen", førend jeg gaar over til at give en Fremstilling af den egentlige Gudelære.
„Noaide" eller „Noide" betyder nu i Lappisk, ligesom „Noita" i Finsk, En, der forstaar sig paa Trolddom, En, der kjender til overnaturlige Hjælpemidler, en Hexemester. Nogen oprindeligere Betydning af Roden „noid" eller „noit" kan ikke længer paavises.
Noaiderne vare ikke blot Folkets Præster, Vismænd, Spaamænd og Raadgivere, men ogsaa deres Læger. De vare i det Hele tåget Mellemmænd mellem Guderne eller Aandeverdenen og Menneskene. Usynlige Væsener og magiske Midler stode til deres Raadiglied; de kunde gavne og skade Mennesker og Dyr og bleve derfor tagne med paa Raad saavel i Godt som i Ondt. Derimod findes ingen bestemt Antydning til, at de vare Folkets Dommere eller Voldgiftsmænd i Trætter.
Skjønt Noaidernes Tal var meget stort, kunde dog ikke En og Hver uden videre blive en Noaid, endnu mindre opnaa nogen Anseelse som saadan. Kun meget faa vare i Virkeligheden de, som havde erhvervet sig Ry i en videre Kreds. Men jo større Ry, des større var ogsaa Fortjenesten; thi de bleve betalte for sin Bistand og sine Raad. Noaiderne havde ikke nogen bestemt Kreds eller Menighed, inden hvilken de virkede. Det beroede alene paa deres Dygtighed, om de bleve søgte af Mange eller Faa, fjernt eller nær.
Enhver rigtig Noaide maatte ved forskjellige Legems- eller Sjæls-Anstrængelser kunne bringe det dertil, at han faldt i et Slags Dvale eller magnetisk Søvn. I denne Tilstand havde han da de foregivne eller virkelige Syner, som han, efter at være kommen til sig selv igjen, forkyndte for Forsamlingen som Aabenbarelser. Medens hans Legeme laa som dødt, troede man, at hans Sjæl ved Hjælp af en Saivvo-guolle eller Saivvo-lodde, en Fisk eller Fugl fra de Dødes Rige, som altid stod til hans Tjeneste, kunde fare til Himmels eller til de Dødes Rige eller til hvilketsomhelst Sted her paa Jorden og udrette, hvad der forlangtes.
Undertiden viste denne Nervøsitet sig i en usædvanlig Grad hos enkelte Individer. Som Børn vare de ofte syge, fantaserede eller havde Febersyner og Drømme. Man troede da, at saadanne især vare skikkede for Noaide-embedet. De bestemtes da dertil og fik Undervisning af Ældre, i Kunsten Indviede.
Jessen har ladet sig fortælle, „at Noaidekandidaterne fik formelig Information af Guderne, dels igjennem 'Noaide-gass3e', et Selskab af tjenende Aander, som enhver Noaide altid maatte have, dels i Søvne." „Naar Kandidaten nu var behørigt undervist i alle ting, som hørte til Trolddomskunsten, saa blev han indviet i sit Embede ved følgende Ceremoni: Der blev holdt Møde af flere Noaider, og den ældste af disse satte sig tilligemed Kandidaten udenfor Telt- eller Gamme-Døren, saaledes at deres Fødder laa lige ved hverandre og spærrede Indgangen. Derpaa begyndte den unge Noaide at ‚joige' (synge Troldsange) under Slag paa Troldtrommen."
Noaidernes fornemste Lægeforretning bestod dog ikke i at helbrede tilfældige legemlige Skavanker ved forskjellige udvortes og rimelige Lægemidler, men en rigtig Noaid maatte kunne foretage en Tur ind i de Dødes Rige for der at hente Raad og Hjælp. Lapperne havde nemlig den Tro, at alle farlige Sygdomme, hvortil de ikke kjendte nogen bestemt ydre Anledning, og hvorimod de ingen bestemte Midler havde, hidrørte fra deres egne afdøde Slægtninge. Naar nu Sygdommen havde saadan Aarsag, saa kunde det naturligvis heller ikke nytte at søge Hjælp i naturlige Midler; men en Noaide maatte hentes for at gjøre en Tur til „Jabmi-aibmo", de Dødes Rige.
Saaledes var der Bahast dakke Noaiddek (bahast dakkat, gjøre Ondt), Noaider, som kunde tilføie Mennesker og Dyr Skade. Galgge-Noaiddek (galggat, udrede, udrette), Noaider, som kunde udfinde Aarsagen til et Onde og afhjælpe det. Girdde-Noaiddek (girddot, flyve), Noaider, som kunde forvandle sig til allehaande Dyr.
Noaiderne maatte være uden nogensomhelst Legemsfeil. Naar de derfor vare blevne saa gamle, at de begyndte at miste Tænder, ansaaes de for uskikkede til sit Embede.
Source Text: §3 — Lappernes Gobdas eller Kobdas, Runebom (Norwegian)
From J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania, 1871), pp. 15–22.
§ 3.
Lappernes Gobdas eller Kobdas, Runebom.
Det lader til, at alle de turanske Folkeslags Schamaner under Udøvelsen af sine Kunster have benyttet sig af et Instrument, der har havt større eller mindre Lighed med en Tromme.
Men ingen af disse Forfattere ved at fortælle Noget om Betydningen af de Figurer, som fandtes paa enkelte af de sibiriske Folkeslags Schamantrommer. Det synes derfor, som om Trommen hos samtlige disse Folkeslag især har været benyttet for dermed at forøge Indbildningskraften eller for gjennem Slag paa samme og den dertil hørende Sang at bringe Schamanen og Tilskuerne i den rette Stemning og Spænding.
Den lappiske Runebom var saaledes baade Folkets Bibel og deres Orakel, paa samme Tid som den ogsaa var et Slags Landkart over denne og hin Verden.
Det lappiske Navn paa Runebommen var Gobdas eller Kobdas, af Ukyndighed i Sproget ogsaa ofte skrevet Gobda, Gobdes eller Kobdes. Ordet udledes med størst Rimelighed af Govva eller Kovva, Billede, og Afledningsendelsen -das. Govvadas betyder saaledes Noget, hvorpaa en Del Billeder ere tegnede, en Samling af Billeder.
Træværket i Runebommen var gjort som en fladbundet Skaal eller Æske af oval eller rettere ægrund Form, undertiden ganske rund. Træet, hvoraf Emnet til de mere kunstigt udarbeidede Runebomme var tåget, kunde være Birk, Gran eller Furu, kun maatte det ifølge Leem „være voxet paa et Sted, hvor Solen aldrig saaes, og af sides for sig selv, langt fra andre Træer". Dernæst maatte Stammen „i Væxten ikke være vredet imod, men med Solens Gang."
Paa flere Steder langs Ydersiden af Skaalen var Huller anbragte, hvori kunde fæstes Snore, der vare omriklede med Tindtraade og havde Messingringe eller andet Skrammel i Enden. Disse Ringe vare ofrede eller skjænkede til Runebommen som Taknemmeligheds-tegn, naar Nogen efter Raadførsel med denne havde været heldig i sit Foretagende. Ligeledes maledes Kors paa samme med Hjerteblodet af en skudt Bjørn, og smaa, inddrevne Messingnagler viste, hvormange vedkommende Eier havde skudt.
Over den konkave Del af den forud beskrevne Træskaal udspændtes et semsket Renskind. Skindet spændtes saa stramt som muligt, for at det kunde faa den rette Klang. Paa Oversiden var det semsket hvidt og glat; thi paa denne maledes nu med en Dekokt af Olderbark eller, efter Tuderus, af Renblod og Olderbark, allehaande hieroglyfiske Figurer.
Source Text: §4 — Coarve-væcer, Hornhammer, og Vuorbe eller Væiko, Viser (Norwegian)
From J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania, 1871), pp. 22–23. OCR from archive.org identifier lappiskmythologi00frii, corrected.
§ 4.
Coarve-væcer, Hornhammer, og Vuorbe eller Væiko, Viser.
Til at slaa paa denne Tromme benyttedes en Trommepinde af Renhorn, som Scheffer og Andre kalde Hammeren, og Leem Coarve-væcer, o: Hornhammer. Den lignede et latinsk T og var gjort af Vildrenhorn, undertiden overtrukken med Bæverskind. Baade Hammeren og Skaftet var gjort af et Stykke Horn. Den kunde være fra 6—8 Tommer lang. I Enden af Skaftet var anbragt et Hul, hvori kunde fæstes Snore og andet Skrammel. Paa Hammeren selv var anbragt forskjellige Udskjæringer, som f. Ex. paa følgende, der findes aftegnede hos Scheffer.
Langt vigtigere end Hammeren var en anden Tingest, som udfordredes ved Spaatrommens Anvendelse. Den kaldes af nogle Forfattere „Viseren", af Tornæus „Arpa" eller „Vuorbe", Lod, hvoraf Verbet vuorbadallet, kaste Lod, har sin Oprindelse. Leem kalder den „Veiko" o: Noget af Messing, et Metal, som stod i høiere Værd hos Lapperne end Sølv og Guld, naar Sagen havde religiøs Betydning, eller det skulde anvendes f. Ex. til Amuletter. Denne saakaldte Index eller Viser var i Almindelighed gjort som en Ring af tyk Messing- eller Kobbertraad, omtrent 1½ Tomme i Diameter. Scheffer fortæller, at han har seet en af Ben, der var gjort i Form af et Triangel. Omkring Ringen var igjen anbragt flere mindre Ringe, eller dersom den havde Form af en 3 eller 4 Kant, var der anbragt en Ring i hvert Hjørne, for at den paa disse skulde kunne bevæge sig lettere hen over Skindet paa Runebommen.
Denne Messingring forestillede Solen, og de mindre Ringe maaske dens Straaler. Naar Runebommen skulde raadspørges, lagdes Ringen fra først af altid paa Solens Billede, der var tegnet midt paa Runebommen.
Source Text: §5 — Runebommens Brug (Norwegian)
From J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania, 1871), pp. 23–30. OCR from archive.org identifier lappiskmythologi00frii, corrected.
§ 5.
Runebommens Brug.
Nærsomhelst en Lap skulde foretage Noget af mindste Vigtighed, f. Ex. gjøre en Reise, drage paa Jagt eller Fiskeri eller finde paa Raad i Sygdomstilfælde, søgte han altid først at udforske Udfaldet ved at raadspørge Runebommen. Ikke Enhver, som havde Runebom og raadspurgte den, var derfor Noaide. Tværtimod synes det, som om Runebommen fandtes i enhver Lappefamilie, ligesom Bibelen findes i enhver kristelig Families Boghylde, og at de mindst Indviede havde den stærkeste Tro paa Orakelet. Da den var saa almindelig, er der heller intet Besynderligt i, at der i Nærø-Manuskriptet fortælles, at Th. v. Westen i 1723 „havde annammet af omvendte Noaider over 100 Runebomme". I Mangel af Runebom, eller naar denne tilfældigvis ikke var forhaanden, kunde ogsaa et bemalet Bøttelaag, en Skaal eller Øxe bruges.
I almindelige Tilfælde eller til dagligdags Brug raadspurgte Husbonden i Familien selv Runebommen. Var Sagen derimod af særlig Vigtighed, angik den Liv eller Død eller den hele Byes Ve og Vel, blev en Noaide hentet. Man samledes da om ham, og Alle, baade Mænd og Kvinder, vare iførte sine bedste Klæder. Naar saa Alt tilbørligt var ordnet, greb Noaiden Runebommen, hvis Skind først varmedes mod Ilden for at faa den rette Spænstighed, med sin venstre Haand i Haandgrebet, vendte den Side, hvorpaa Guderne eller Figurerne vare aftegnede, mod sit Bryst og faldt ned paa venstre Knæ, med høire opret, hvorpaa ogsaa hele Forsamlingen faldt paa Knæ.
Derpaa griber han Hammeren og Ringen i sin høire Haand, lægger Ringen paa Solens Billede og begynder med Hammeren at slaa ganske sagte paa Skindet, rundt omkring Ringen eller Viseren, som ved disse Slag hopper og bevæger sig hid og did. Derpaa slaar han haardere, Ringen bevæger sig hurtigere, men omsider standser den paa et eller andet Sted eller paa et enkelt Tegn og vil ikke bevæge sig derfra, hvormeget endNoaiden vedbliver at slaa. Alt dette foregaar under en Sang, „hvis Mening", siger Forfatteren af Trondhjems Manuskriptet, „ingen Fin har villet bekjende". Hele Forsamlingen stemmer i med, Mændene med stærkere, Kvinderne med svagere Stemme.
Eftersom nu Ringen bevægede sig i denne eller hin Retning eller endelig standsede ved dette eller hint Billede, udtydede Noaiden Gudernes Villie eller gav Besked om forskjellige omspurgte Ting. I Almindelighed ansaaes det som et heldigt Varsel, naar Ringen fra først af begyndte at følge Solens Gang. Man kunde da vente Lykke i sit Foretagende „og god Helse baade for Folk og Fæ, enten de vare fjern eller nær". Gik den i modsat Retning, var Udfaldet tvivlsomt, eller en eller anden Ulykke truede med at indtræffe. „Raadspurgte man Runebommen angaaende en forestaaende Reise, og Veiko eller Ringen for henimod Tegnet for Iddedes-guovso, Morgenrøden, da lærtes deraf, at man skulde begive sig afsted om Morgenen. Dersom den derimod tog sin Fart henimod Ækkedes-guovso, Aftenrøden, da burde Reisen foretages om Aftenen. Dersom de underveis spurgte Runebommen tilraads, og Ringen da gik hen mod Ækkedes-guovso, saa skulde man fortsætte Reisen hele Natten. Vendte den sig derimod til Iddedes-guovso, skulde man blive liggende til om Morgenen". „Skulde Lappen paa Fiskeri i en eller anden Indsø, og Ringen for midt ud i det Tegn, der allgilder et Fiskevand (Runeb. No. 1 Fig. 21), da var det et godt Tegn til heldigt Fiske; kom den blot til Kanten, men ikke indenfor, var det Tegn til, at Gull Ibmel, Fiskenes Gud, vilde have Offer, førend Fiskeriet begyndte; men vilde den slet ikke engang komme i Berørelse med Fiskevandet, men holdt sig borte fra samme, var det Tegn til, at man slet Intet vilde faa, i hvad man end ofrede eller lovede".
„Naar Runebommen raadspurgtes angaaende En, der laa for Døden, og Ringen da bevægede sig hen til Jabmikuri-balges (se Runeb. No. 1. Fig. 17.), de Dødes Vei, da var det et sikkert Tegn paa, at den Syge vilde dø, hvorfor der strax blev ofret til den af Jabmekerne eller de Døde, som man troede vilde have den Syge til sig. Naar Ringen efter fuldbragt Offer bevægede sig tilbage til det Sted, hvor en Lappehytte var aftegnet (se Runeb. No. 1. Fig. 22.), var der sikkert Haab om, at den Syge ved Offeret var bleven reddet fra Døden og endnu en Tid lang vilde komme til at bebo sin Hytte, men gik Ringen derimod ved det fornyede Forsøg lige ind i Jabmi-aibmo, de Dødes Rige, (se Runeb. No. 1. Fig. 17), saa hjalp hverken Bøn eller Løn, den Syge maatte dø, om han end lovede at ofre alle sine Rensdyr eller var rig nok til at kjøbe og ofre alle de Sturik eller Heste, som kunde overkommes, endog de mene, at i en Hests Ofring til de Døde er der synderlig Kraft".
De beste Noaider kunne rimeligvis ikke have havt nogen synderlig Tiltro til Runebommen, ialfald naar de selv brugte den, da de naturligvis meget godt vidste, at det kom an paa Trommeslagerens Kunstfærdighed, om Ringen skulde gaa hid eller did eller blive staaende ved dette eller hint Billede. For at lette Manøvren var rimeligvis Hullerne ved Haandtaget i Bunden anbragte saaledes, at Haanden nedenfra kunde komme i Berørelse med Skindet, hvorpaa Ringen bevægede sig. Men da en saadan Raadførsel med Runebommen af en Noaide var en Forretning, der betaltes godt, vogtede disse sig naturligvis vel for at røbe Noget for den uindviede, troende Mængde, hos hvem det gjaldt at holde dette Orakel i saa høi Anseelse som muligt.
Runebommen havde sin egen Plads paa et bestemt, til den helliget Sted i Boasso, eller den bagerste Del af Teltet, og blev med Tilbehør forvaret i en Pose af Lommeskind. Ingen voxen Kvinde maatte røre ved dette hellige Instrument. Dersom nogen voxen Kvinde færdedes over den Vei, hvor Runebommen var ført, endnu førend 3 Dage vare forløbne, var der Fare for, at hun enten vilde dø eller vederfares en stor Ulykke. Men ifald det dog var absolut nødvendigt, at en Kvinde maatte reise over den Vei, hvorpaa Runebommen var ført, maatte hun forære en Messingring til Runebommen som Forsoningsoffer. For at forekomme slig Ulykke maatte Runebommen ikke blot føres ind og ud gjennem Bagdøren i Teltet og forvares i Boasso, men ogsaa under Flytning fra Sted til andet føres i den bagerste Slæde i Rækken, af en Mandsperson, eller, for at være saa meget sikrere, førtes Runebommen frem paa saadanne Afveie, hvor ingen Mennesker pleiede at færdes.
„Efter at Lappepræsterne", siger L. Læstadius, „kom underveir med den Omstændighed, at Lappen altid førte Spaatrommen med sig i den bagerste Kjæris eller Slæde i Raiden (Række af Slæder), naar de flyttede forbi Kirkestederne, forsømte de ikke at holde Visitats i denne, og fandtes den, blev den naturligvis konfiskeret". Men Lapperne paa sin Side bleve vel ogsaa snart af Skade kloge og toge sine Forholdsregler.
Efter denne Beskrivelse af Runebommen og dens Brug kan her endnu hidsættes som Supplement en Historie, der tindes fortalt i Nærø-Manuskriptet, saaledes:
„Lappen Andreas Sivertsen havde en eneste Søn, Johannes, som i sit 20de Aar faldt i en saa farlig Sot, eller hidsig Feber, at Ingen troede, at han skulde leve. Faderen græmmede sig usigeligt over denne Sønnens Sygdom og visse forventede Død og brugte alle de Midler og Runerier eller Trolddomskunster, han kjendte, men Alt forgjæves. Omsider besluttede han at tage sin Tilflugt til Runebommen. Nu var han vel selv en stor Noaide, men efterdi dette var en Sag, som angik ham selv saa nær, idet det var hans egen kjødelige Søn, kunde det ikke efter hans Troesartikler lade sig gjøre, at han selv bespurgte sig hos Runebommen. Derfor lod han hente sin afdøde Hustrues Broder, der udi Noaidekunsten var ligesaa forfaren som han selv. Efter at de forudgaaende Ceremonier vare iagttagne, (§30.), lagde Svogeren Ringen paa Runebommen og begyndte at slaa med Hammeren. Men hvad sker? Ringen gaar strax hen til Jabmikuri-balges, Dødningernes Vei, lige overfor de Dødes Rige, hvorover der blev en ikke liden Consternation hos Faderen, helst da han saa, at Ringen, uagtet de heftigste Slag paa Runebommen tilligemed allehaande Besværgelser, ikke vilde flytte sig, men blev paa samme Sted ligesom fastlimet staaende, indtil han efter sin Svogers Raad lovede til de Døde en Hunren. Da flyttede endelig Ringen sig ved nye Slag paa Runebommen, men gik dog ikke længer end ud paa Ristbalges, de Kristnes Vei, hvorfor Svogeren slog paanyt. Men nu gik Ringen atter tilbage til Dødningernes Vei. Nu lovede Faderen nok et Rensdyr, en Oxeren, til Mubben-aibmo (o: Satan), om hans Søn maatte leve, og derpaa flyttede Ringen sig fra Dødningernes Vei til Ristbalges, men vilde aldeles ikke gaa hen til det Sted paa Runebommen, hvor Lappernes Hytter staa aftegnede. (Se Runeb. 1. Fig. 22.) Endelig slog Svogeren under mange Besværgelser 3die Gang, men Ringen gik fremdeles som tilforn tilbage til Dødningernes Vei og blev der staaende, indtil Faderen foruden de to Rensdyr endnu lovede en Sturik eller Hest til Vuollenere-Noaide, Døds-Rigets Noaide, „paa det at han skulde rune saaledes, at Ringen efter de Dødes Befaling kunde gaa hen til Lappehytterne, og Faderen saaledes forsikres om, at hans Søn skulde leve.
Men denne Gang var der mindre Bønhørelse end tilforn; thi Ringen blev ved alle Slag fast staaende paa Dødningernes Vei, saa at Faderen saa intet Andet end den visse Død for sin Søn. Svogeren, som havde forrettet denne gudelige Handling, blev ogsaa ganske konfunderet derved og kunde ikke finde sig derudi, at Ringen var ulydigere og Guderne unaadigere nu, da der var lovet saa Meget, end tilforn, da der ikkun var lovet Lidet. Omsider griber han da dette Raad an: Han gaar ned i Strandbredden og tager der en Sten, som var langagtig. Samme Sten indviede han først ved mange Besværgelser og Joigen eller Sang. Dernæst hængte han den frit nedhængende i et Baand udenfor Hytten og lod den der hænge, indtil den hang ganske stille, kastede sig saa paa sit Ansigt ned, gjorde sin Bøn til den og spurgte derpaa Mubben-aibmo (Satan), hvoraf det kom sig, at Ringen ikke vilde gaa fra Dødningernes Vei, da der dog var lovet ham, de Døde og Vuollenere-Noaide saa stort og herligt Offer. Hvorpaa han af Stenen fik det lydelige Svar, at enten maatte det Lovede strax i samme Moment, han udsagde det, ofres ham og de andre Guder, eller ogsaa maatte Drengen dø, medmindre der var et andet Menneskeliv at give i hans Sted. Dette var haarde Vilkaar; thi det var Faderen umuligt at være saa præcis i sin Betaling, som Satan prætenderede, efterdi han havde hverken de lovede Rensdyr eller Hesten ved Haanden, og naar det ikke skede, hvor vilde han da efter Satans anden Kondition finde et Menneske, der skulde finde Plaisir udi at fornøie ham med sit Livs Ofring for hans syge Søns Livs Erholdelse? Her var altsaa intet andet Raad: Vilde Faderen have Sønnen levende, da maatte han selv dø, hvilket han ogsaa glædeligt resolverede. Og saasnart denne Resolution var tågen, ved hvilken han sandelig beviste en større Kjærlighed for sin Søn end for sin Sjæl, slog Svogeren paanyt paa Runebommen, hvor Ringen endnu stod paa sit forrige Sted, men nu afgik til Finnehytterne, hvilket betegnede Liv og Helse for den Syge. Og er det aller underligste af det Altsammen, at Sønnen strax derefter begyndte at blive bedre, medens Faderen i samme Moment blev dødsyg, og at Sønnen om Eftermiddagen den anden Dag derefter blev fuldkommen restitueret, i det samme Øieblik da Faderen ved en ulyksalig Død overgav sin ulyksalige Sjæl til Djævelen.
Den Taknemmelighed, som Sønnen, der ved Faderens Død selv var reddet fra Døden, beviste ham derfor, var denne, at han efter Faderens Begjæring i sit Yderste ofrede en Oxeren til hans Sjæl, for at han des kommodere kunde reise omkring i de Dødes Rige, hvor han vilde".
„Den Fin Johannes, med hvem dette er passeret for 5 Aar siden, og som nu tjener i mit Præstegjæld, paa en Gaard ved Navn Finne, i Rånens Præstegjæld, i Helgeland, har tilligemed andre Finner og deres Koner bekjendt denne Passage for Th. v. Westen, i min Præsence, her i mit Hus, i Januar indeværende Aar 1723". (Nærø-Manuskriptet Pag. 11–13.)
Source Colophon
J.A. Friis, Lappisk Mythologi, Eventyr og Folkesagn (Christiania: Alb. Cammermeyer, 1871). Archive.org identifier: lappiskmythologi00frii. University of Toronto scan, digitized as part of the Internet Archive project. Public domain (author died 1896, publication 1871).
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