present at this seance, and heard the 'hollow, mysterious whistling
Voice, "The ship's nose I will batter out on the great sea"'. Even
the priest was puzzled, this, he said, was clearly a deceitful
spirit, or atua, like those of which Porphyry complains, like most
of them in fact. But, ten days later, the ship came back to port;
she had met a gale, and sprung a leak in the bow, called, in Maori,
'the nose' (ihu). It is hardly surprising that some Europeans used
to consult the oracle.

Possibly some spiritualists may take comfort in these anecdotes, and
allege that the Maori mediums were 'very powerful'. This is said to
have been the view taken by some American believers, in a very
curious case, reported by Kohl, but the tale, as he tells it, cannot
possibly be accurate. However, it illustrates and strangely
coincides with some stories related by the Jesuit, Pere Lejeune, in
the Canadian Mission, about 1637. The instances bear both on
clairvoyance and on the force which is said to shake houses as well
as to lift tables, in the legends of the modern thaumaturgists. We
shall take Kohl's tale before those of the old Jesuit. Kohl first
describes the 'Medicine Lodge,' already alluded to in the account of
Dene Hareskin magic.

The 'lodge' answers to what spiritualists call 'the cabinet,'
usually a place curtained off in modern practice. Behind this the
medium now gets up his 'materialisations,' and other cheap
mysteries. The classical performers of the fourth century also knew
the advantage of a close place, {45a} 'where the power would not be
scattered'. This idea is very natural, granting the 'power'. The
modern Ojibway 'close place,' or lodge, like those seen by old
Jesuit fathers, 'is composed of stout posts, connected with basket-