Guest guest Posted November 16, 2007 Report Share Posted November 16, 2007 Very Interesting! Liked it. I would think this witch was more of a Shaman, since she could talk to Spirits. What do you think, Marty? Blessings, Joy [ ] our witch.... Our witch woman was rather a remarkable old person.Whenshe was, I suppose, considerably over sixty, herfavouritegranddaughter died.Old Bootha was in a terrible state of grief, andchoppedherself in a most merciless manner at the burial,especially about the head. She would speak to no one,usedto spend her time about the grave, round which shefixedupright posts which she painted white, red, and black.Allround the grave she used to sweep continually.More and more she isolated herself, and at lastdiscardedall her clothes and roamed the bush as she hadprobablydone as a young girl.She dug herself an underground camp, roofed it over,andpainted enormous posts which she erected in front ofher'Muddy wine,' as she called her camp. She never camenearthe house, though we had been great friends before.She used to prowl round the outhouses and pick up allsortsof things, rubbish for the most part, but often goodutensils too; all used to be secreted in theundergroundcamp. She never talked to any one, but used to muttercontinually to herself and her dogs in an unknowntonguewhich only her dogs seemed to understand.And after crooning an accompaniment to her steps offshewent, a strange enough figure, dancing and crooning asshewent towards her camp; and not until the spirits gaveuppossession of her did she come near the house again.I used to tell the other blacks to see that Bootha hadplenty of food. They said she was all right, thespiritswere looking after her. She was only spirit-possessed.Gradually old Bootha, clothed as usual, came backabout theplace.Strange stories came through the house blacks to me ofoldBootha. She was very ill for a long time, thensuddenly sherecovered; not only recovered but seemed rejuvenated.Weheard of wonderful cures she made; how she alwaysconsultedthe spirits about any illness; how there weresaid to be spirits in some of her dogs; how she wasnow arainmaker and, in fact, a fully fledged witch.I was curious to see some of these wonders, so used togetthe old woman to come up when any one was ill, consulther,and generally make much of her. There is no doubt shecoulddiagnose a case well enough. Matah suffered a gooddealwith a constant pain in one knee, he was quite lamefromit. He showed it to Bootha one day. She sang a song toher spirits, then said:'Too muchee water there; you steam him, put him on hotrag;you drink plenty cold water, all lite dat go.'As it happened a medical man was passing a few daysafterwards with an insurance agent. Matah consultedhim.'Hum! Yes, yes. Hot fomentations to the placeaffected,poultices, a cooling draught. There's a stoppage offluidat the knee-joint which must be dispersed.'I thought Bootha ought to have been called inconsultation.A girl was taken suddenly and, to us, unaccountablyill.She was just able to get out of her room into thedrawing-room, where she would lie back on the cushionsof alounge looking dreadfully limp and utterly washed out.Hearing of her illness old Bootha came up. I thoughtitmight amuse Adelaide to see an old witch; she agreed,so Ibrought her in.Bootha went straight up to the sick girl, expressed afewsympathetic sentences, then she said she would ask thespirits what had made Adelaide ill and what would cureher.She moved my furniture until she left the centre oftheroom clear; she squatted down, and hanging her headbeganmuttering in an unintelligible dialect. Presently hervoiceceased and we heard from beside her a most peculiarwhistling sort of voice, to which she responded,evidentlyinterrogating. Again the whistling voice from furtheraway.Bootha then told me she had asked a dead black fellow,BigJoe, to tell her what she wanted to know; but he couldnot,so now she was going to ask her dead grand-daughter. Again she said a sort of incantation, andagain,after a while, came the whistling voice reply -- thistimefrom another direction, not quite so loud. The samesort ofthing was gone through with the same result.Then Bootha said she would ask Guadgee, a black girlwhohad been one of my first favourites in the camp, andwhohad died a few years previously.The whistling voice came from a third direction,though allthe time I could see Bootha's lips moving.Guadgee answered all she was asked. She said Adelaidewasmade ill because she had offended the spirits bybathing inthe creek under the shade of a Minggah, orspirit-tree, aplace tabooed to all but wirreenuns, or such as holdcommunion with spirits.Of course, according to the blacks, to disturb ashadow isto hurt the original.In this Minggah, Guadgee. said, were swarms of beesinvisible to all but wirreenuns, and they are readyalwaysto resent any insult to the Minggah or its shadow.Thesespirit-bees had entered Adelaide and secreted some waxonher liver; their bites, Guadgee said, were on herback.Well, that can't be it, I said, I for you never didbathein the shade of a Minggah; for, going as you always dowiththe house-girls, you are bound to be kept from suchsacrilege; they would never dare such desecration. ''Which is their Minggah? Is it a big Coolabah betweentheBend and the garden?''Yes.''Then I did bathe there the last time I went down. Iwas uptoo late to go with the Black-but-Comelys, and as thesunwas hot I went further round the point and bathed intheshade. And the bee-bites must be those horriblyirritatingpimples I have across my back.'The cause of illness settled to her satisfaction,Boothaasked how to cure it. The patient was to drink nothinghotnor heating but as much cold water as she liked,especiallya long drink before going to bed. Guadgee said shewouldcome in the night when the patient was asleepand take the wax from her liver; she would sleep wellandwake better in the morning.Bootha got up then, came over to the patient, took herhand, rubbed it round the wrist several times,muttering anincantation; then saying she would see her again nextday,off she went, taking, she told us, all the spiritsawayinside her, whence at desire they could be returned tosuchMinggah in their own Noorunbah, or hereditaryhunting-grounds, as wirreenuns had placed them in, ortoroam at their pleasure when not required by those inauthority over spirits. Our old spiritualist denies usfreedom even in the after-life she promises us.Adelaide slept that night, looked a better colour thenextmorning, and rapidly recovered.Some say old Bootha must be a good physician and aventriloquist, only I believe it is saidventriloquistscannot live long, and Bootha is now over eighty.Others besides wirreenuns see spirits sometimes, butrarely, though wirreenuns are said to have the powertoconjure them up in a form visible to ordinary eyes.Babies are said to see spirits when they are smilingorcrowing as if to themselves; it's to some spiritvisible tothem but to no one else.When a baby opens his hands and shuts them againquickly,smiling all the while, that baby is with the spiritscatching crabs!Dogs see spirits; when they bark and howl suddenly andyousee nothing about, it is because they have seen aspirit.One person may embody many spirits, but such an onemust becareful not to drink anything hot or heating, suchwoulddrive out the spirits at once. The spirits would neverenter a person defiled by the white man's 'grog.'Old Bootha had an interview with a very powerfulspiritafter she was ill, who told her that the spirit of herfather was now in Bahloo, the moon; and that it wasthisspirit which had cured her, and if she kept hiscommandsshe would live for ever. The commands were never todrink'grog,' never to wear red, never to eat fish. This wastoldher 15 years ago, never once has she transgressed; hervigour for an old woman considerably over eighty ismarvellous.She was going away for a trip. Before going she said,asshe would not be able to know when I wanted rain formygarden, she would put two posts in it which had inthem thespirits of Kurreahs, or crocodiles. As these spiritsrequired water I might be certain my tanks would nevergo dry while they were on guard. She asked one of myBlack-but-Comelys, a very stalwart young woman, tohelp herlift one of these posts into the garden where shewanted toerect it. The girl took hold of one end, but in alittlewhile dropped it, said it was too heavy. Old Boothagotfurious.'I get the spirits to help me,' she said, and startedalittle sing-song, then shouldered the post herself andcarried it in. These posts are painted red, black, andwhite, with a snaky pattern, the Kurreah sign, onthem. Shealso planted in my garden two other witch-poles, onepainted red and having a cross-bar about midway downit from which raddled strings were attached to thetop;this was to keep away the Euloowayi, black fellowspossessed of devils, who came from behind the sunset.The other was a plain red-painted, tapering pine-polewhichshe said, when it fell to the ground, would tell ofthedeath of some one related to an inmate of the house.Shouldit lean towards the house it foretold misfortune; orif shewere any time away, when she was returning she wouldsendher Mullee Mullee to sit on the top and bend it justto letus know. This pole would also keep away the spirits ofthedead from the house during her absence. While she wasawaythere would be no one to come and clear the place ofevilby smoking the Budtha twigs all round it, as shealways didif I were alone and, she thought, in need ofprotection.Old Bootha has what she calls a wi-mouyan,clever-stick. Itis about six feet long, great lumps of beefwood gummakingknobs on it at intervals; between each knob it ispainted.Armed with this stick, a piece of crystal, some greentwigs, and sometimes a stick with a bunch of feathersontop, and a large flat stone, she goes out to makerain. Thecrystal and stone she puts under the water in thecreek,the feathered stick she erects on the edge of thewater,then goes in and splashes about with green twigs,singingall the time.After a while she gets out and parades the bank withthewi-mouyan, singing a rain-song which charms some ofthewater out of the creek into the clouds, whence itfallswhere she directs it. Once my garden of roses lookedverywilted. I asked Bootha to make rain, but just then shewasvery offended with Matah. One of her dogs had beenpoisoned, she would make no rain on his country.However,at last she said she would make some for me. I boundherdown to a certain day. The day came; a heavy stormfelljust over my garden, filling the ground tank, whichwasalmost empty. About two inches fell. Within half amile ofeach side of the garden the dust was barely laid.Old Bootha's luck stuck to her that time, and I had togiveher a new dress and some 'bacca.' But during the lastdrought she failed signally. Her excuse for failingwasthat a great wirreenun up the creek was so angry withthewhite people who were driving away all emu, kangaroo,andopossums, the black fellow's food, and yet made a fussiftheir dogs killed a sheep for them sometimes, that heputhis rain-stone in a fire, and while he did that norainwould fall. He said if all the sheep died the whitefellowswould go away again, and then, as long ago, the blackfellows' country would have plenty of emu andkangaroo.We saw a curious coincidence in connection with one ofBootha's witch-poles in my garden, the pole whosefallingforetold death of some relative of some one in thehouse.One afternoon there had been drizzling rain and a greymistovershadowing things. Matah went out to look at thechancesof a continuance of rain, the usual drought being on.Hecalled to me to come and see a curious sky. Lookingtowardsthe west I saw a golden ball of a sun piercing thegreyclouds which seemed like a spangled veil over itsface;shooting from the sun was a perfect halo of goldenlight, from which three shafts spread into roadways uppastthe grey clouds into the vault of heaven. The effectwasvery striking indeed, against the grey clouds shadedfromsilver to almost black.As we stood waiting for the sun to sink and theafterglowto paint these clouds, as it did, from shrimp pink andheliotrope to vivid crimson, we saw Bootha's polefall. Theair was quite still.'The damp has loosened its setting,' said Matah, 'butwehad better leave it alone and let the old girl fix itupagain herself; it may be taboo to ordinary mortalslikeus.'We left it.That evening a messenger arrived from the sheepstation tosay my cook's mother had died just before sunset. Thecampwere firm believers in Bootha's witch-stick afterthat.It was just as well we did not touch that stick; hadwedone so, Bootha says we should have broken out insores allover our bodies.They say that long ago the wirreenuns always used tohave asort of totem wizard-stick guarding the front of theircamps.Spiritual freedom is my birthright. I am a free thinker. I am able to rise above mentalprejudices and stereotypes of others. I am a free thinker. Nobody and nothing can manipulateme or deceive me. I am a free thinker. I freely choose truth and love. Today, I embrace a greater degree of spiritualfreedom. ____________________________________________________________________________________Get easy, one-click access to your favorites. Make your homepage.http://www./r/hs Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 17, 2007 Report Share Posted November 17, 2007 I think that when she went and lived by herself she could focus on Spirit and they cam to her. I think we all have this ability to talk to Spirit but our heads are to cluttered to really give it 100%. when I do this it takes so much out of me,the next day i am like a zombie,just brain dead... I think it is a matter of training ourselves to block out everything or the Spirits might not come to us.. but I don't know,just guessing. Marty --- Joyce Hudson <bjoyful@...> wrote: > Very Interesting! Liked it. I would think this > witch was more of a Shaman, since she could talk to > Spirits. What do you think, Marty? Blessings, Joy > [ ] our witch.... > > > Our witch woman was rather a remarkable old > person. > When > she was, I suppose, considerably over sixty, her > favourite > granddaughter died. > > Old Bootha was in a terrible state of grief, and > chopped > herself in a most merciless manner at the burial, > especially about the head. She would speak to no > one, > used > to spend her time about the grave, round which she > fixed > upright posts which she painted white, red, and > black. > All > round the grave she used to sweep continually. > > More and more she isolated herself, and at last > discarded > all her clothes and roamed the bush as she had > probably > done as a young girl. > > She dug herself an underground camp, roofed it > over, > and > painted enormous posts which she erected in front > of > her > 'Muddy wine,' as she called her camp. She never > came > near > the house, though we had been great friends > before. > > She used to prowl round the outhouses and pick up > all > sorts > of things, rubbish for the most part, but often > good > utensils too; all used to be secreted in the > underground > camp. She never talked to any one, but used to > mutter > continually to herself and her dogs in an unknown > tongue > which only her dogs seemed to understand. > > And after crooning an accompaniment to her steps > off > she > went, a strange enough figure, dancing and > crooning as > she > went towards her camp; and not until the spirits > gave > up > possession of her did she come near the house > again. > > I used to tell the other blacks to see that Bootha > had > plenty of food. They said she was all right, the > spirits > were looking after her. She was only > spirit-possessed. > > Gradually old Bootha, clothed as usual, came back > about the > place. > > Strange stories came through the house blacks to > me of > old > Bootha. She was very ill for a long time, then > suddenly she > recovered; not only recovered but seemed > rejuvenated. > We > heard of wonderful cures she made; how she always > consulted > the spirits about any illness; how there were > said to be spirits in some of her dogs; how she > was > now a > rainmaker and, in fact, a fully fledged witch. > > I was curious to see some of these wonders, so > used to > get > the old woman to come up when any one was ill, > consult > her, > and generally make much of her. There is no doubt > she > could > diagnose a case well enough. Matah suffered a good > deal > with a constant pain in one knee, he was quite > lame > from > it. He showed it to Bootha one day. She sang a > song to > her spirits, then said: > > 'Too muchee water there; you steam him, put him on > hot > rag; > you drink plenty cold water, all lite dat go.' > > As it happened a medical man was passing a few > days > afterwards with an insurance agent. Matah > consulted > him. > > 'Hum! Yes, yes. Hot fomentations to the place > affected, > poultices, a cooling draught. There's a stoppage > of > fluid > at the knee-joint which must be dispersed.' > > I thought Bootha ought to have been called in > consultation. > > A girl was taken suddenly and, to us, > unaccountably > ill. > She was just able to get out of her room into the > drawing-room, where she would lie back on the > cushions > of a > lounge looking dreadfully limp and utterly washed > out. > Hearing of her illness old Bootha came up. I > thought > it > might amuse Adelaide to see an old witch; she > agreed, > so I > brought her in. > > Bootha went straight up to the sick girl, > expressed a > few > sympathetic sentences, then she said she would ask > the > spirits what had made Adelaide ill and what would > cure > her. > > She moved my furniture until she left the centre > of > the > room clear; she squatted down, and hanging her > head > began > muttering in an unintelligible dialect. Presently > her > voice > ceased and we heard from beside her a most > peculiar > whistling sort of voice, to which she responded, > evidently > interrogating. Again the whistling voice from > further > away. > Bootha then told me she had asked a dead black > fellow, > Big > Joe, to tell her what she wanted to know; but he > could > not, > so now she was going to ask her dead grand- > daughter. Again she said a sort of incantation, > and > again, > after a while, came the whistling voice reply -- > this > time > from another direction, not quite so loud. The > same > sort of > thing was gone through with the same result. > > Then Bootha said she would ask Guadgee, a black > girl > === message truncated === Spiritual freedom is my birthright. I am a free thinker. I am able to rise above mental prejudices and stereotypes of others. I am a free thinker. Nobody and nothing can manipulate me or deceive me. I am a free thinker. I freely choose truth and love. Today, I embrace a greater degree of spiritual freedom. ________________________________________________________________________________\ ____ Never miss a thing. Make your home page. http://www./r/hs Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 17, 2007 Report Share Posted November 17, 2007 I know we all have the ability. Children are the strongest because they have not been corrupted by civilization, yet. I know some have the ability more than others. I think that's because in previous lives they used it more. Therefore retaining it. I know the only way to learn to control it, is by meditating, which is going within and finding your connection to God. It takes a lot of practice, and when it becomes a habit, you can do it at will. The Spirits that come are your guides and teachers. We all have them and of course the Angels and Healers too. And my understanding is there are always more that will come in to help due to specialties. I do know that for mediums and channelers it is critical that they take care of their bodies. It's important to eat right, drink lots of water, exercise, meditate, and get plenty of rest, because of the energy required. I do hope after you perform a ceremony, you eat well and drink lots of water. I am not an expert, by any means, but I have read a lot upon the subject. Don't think I could do it either, as I am too involved with 3D/4D. So, Brother, I am honored to know you. I have an idea, what is involved with your Spiritual work. Love and Blessings, Joy ----- Original Message ----- From: Marty Cline Sent: Friday, November 16, 2007 8:30 PM Subject: Re: [ ] our witch.... I think that when she went and lived by herself shecould focus on Spirit and they cam to her.I think we all have this ability to talk to Spirit butour heads are to cluttered to really give it 100%. when I do this it takes so much out of me,the nextday i am like a zombie,just brain dead...I think it is a matter of training ourselves to blockout everything or the Spirits might not come to us..but I don't know,just guessing. Marty--- Joyce Hudson <bjoyful@...> wrote:> Very Interesting! Liked it. I would think this> witch was more of a Shaman, since she could talk to> Spirits. What do you think, Marty? Blessings, Joy> ----- Original Message ----- > From: Marty Cline > martin stompingelk cline > Sent: Friday, November 16, 2007 5:34 PM> Subject: [ ] our witch....> > > Our witch woman was rather a remarkable old> person.> When> she was, I suppose, considerably over sixty, her> favourite> granddaughter died.> > Old Bootha was in a terrible state of grief, and> chopped> herself in a most merciless manner at the burial,> especially about the head. She would speak to no> one,> used> to spend her time about the grave, round which she> fixed> upright posts which she painted white, red, and> black.> All> round the grave she used to sweep continually.> > More and more she isolated herself, and at last> discarded> all her clothes and roamed the bush as she had> probably> done as a young girl.> > She dug herself an underground camp, roofed it> over,> and> painted enormous posts which she erected in front> of> her> 'Muddy wine,' as she called her camp. She never> came> near> the house, though we had been great friends> before.> > She used to prowl round the outhouses and pick up> all> sorts> of things, rubbish for the most part, but often> good> utensils too; all used to be secreted in the> underground> camp. She never talked to any one, but used to> mutter> continually to herself and her dogs in an unknown> tongue> which only her dogs seemed to understand.> > And after crooning an accompaniment to her steps> off> she> went, a strange enough figure, dancing and> crooning as> she> went towards her camp; and not until the spirits> gave> up> possession of her did she come near the house> again.> > I used to tell the other blacks to see that Bootha> had> plenty of food. They said she was all right, the> spirits> were looking after her. She was only> spirit-possessed.> > Gradually old Bootha, clothed as usual, came back> about the> place.> > Strange stories came through the house blacks to> me of> old> Bootha. She was very ill for a long time, then> suddenly she> recovered; not only recovered but seemed> rejuvenated.> We> heard of wonderful cures she made; how she always> consulted> the spirits about any illness; how there were> said to be spirits in some of her dogs; how she> was> now a> rainmaker and, in fact, a fully fledged witch.> > I was curious to see some of these wonders, so> used to> get> the old woman to come up when any one was ill,> consult> her,> and generally make much of her. There is no doubt> she> could> diagnose a case well enough. Matah suffered a good> deal> with a constant pain in one knee, he was quite> lame> from> it. He showed it to Bootha one day. She sang a> song to> her spirits, then said:> > 'Too muchee water there; you steam him, put him on> hot> rag;> you drink plenty cold water, all lite dat go.'> > As it happened a medical man was passing a few> days> afterwards with an insurance agent. Matah> consulted> him.> > 'Hum! Yes, yes. Hot fomentations to the place> affected,> poultices, a cooling draught. There's a stoppage> of> fluid> at the knee-joint which must be dispersed.'> > I thought Bootha ought to have been called in> consultation.> > A girl was taken suddenly and, to us,> unaccountably> ill.> She was just able to get out of her room into the> drawing-room, where she would lie back on the> cushions> of a> lounge looking dreadfully limp and utterly washed> out.> Hearing of her illness old Bootha came up. I> thought> it> might amuse Adelaide to see an old witch; she> agreed,> so I> brought her in.> > Bootha went straight up to the sick girl,> expressed a> few> sympathetic sentences, then she said she would ask> the> spirits what had made Adelaide ill and what would> cure> her.> > She moved my furniture until she left the centre> of> the> room clear; she squatted down, and hanging her> head> began> muttering in an unintelligible dialect. Presently> her> voice> ceased and we heard from beside her a most> peculiar> whistling sort of voice, to which she responded,> evidently> interrogating. Again the whistling voice from> further> away.> Bootha then told me she had asked a dead black> fellow,> Big> Joe, to tell her what she wanted to know; but he> could> not,> so now she was going to ask her dead grand-> daughter. Again she said a sort of incantation,> and> again,> after a while, came the whistling voice reply --> this> time> from another direction, not quite so loud. The> same> sort of> thing was gone through with the same result.> > Then Bootha said she would ask Guadgee, a black> girl> === message truncated ===Spiritual freedom is my birthright. I am a free thinker. I am able to rise above mentalprejudices and stereotypes of others. I am a free thinker. Nobody and nothing can manipulateme or deceive me. I am a free thinker. I freely choose truth and love. Today, I embrace a greater degree of spiritualfreedom. ____________________________________________________________________________________Never miss a thing. Make your home page. http://www./r/hs Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 19, 2007 Report Share Posted November 19, 2007 yea, to be like her,understand she had nothing to do all day so her time was all for this.LOTs of meditating and praying and also...LISTNING!!! Marty --- Joyce Hudson <bjoyful@...> wrote: > I know we all have the ability. Children are the > strongest because they have not been corrupted by > civilization, yet. > > I know some have the ability more than others. I > think that's because in previous lives they used it > more. Therefore retaining it. > > I know the only way to learn to control it, is by > meditating, which is going within and finding your > connection to God. It takes a lot of practice, and > when it becomes a habit, you can do it at will. > > The Spirits that come are your guides and teachers. > We all have them and of course the Angels and > Healers too. And my understanding is there are > always more that will come in to help due to > specialties. > > I do know that for mediums and channelers it is > critical that they take care of their bodies. It's > important to eat right, drink lots of water, > exercise, meditate, and get plenty of rest, because > of the energy required. I do hope after you perform > a ceremony, you eat well and drink lots of water. > > I am not an expert, by any means, but I have read a > lot upon the subject. Don't think I could do it > either, as I am too involved with 3D/4D. So, > Brother, I am honored to know you. I have an idea, > what is involved with your Spiritual work. Love and > Blessings, Joy > > > [ ] our witch.... > > > > > > Our witch woman was rather a remarkable old > > person. > > When > > she was, I suppose, considerably over sixty, > her > > favourite > > granddaughter died. > > > > Old Bootha was in a terrible state of grief, > and > > chopped > > herself in a most merciless manner at the > burial, > > especially about the head. She would speak to > no > > one, > > used > > to spend her time about the grave, round which > she > > fixed > > upright posts which she painted white, red, > and > > black. > > All > > round the grave she used to sweep continually. > > > > More and more she isolated herself, and at > last > > discarded > > all her clothes and roamed the bush as she had > > probably > > done as a young girl. > > > > She dug herself an underground camp, roofed it > > over, > > and > > painted enormous posts which she erected in > front > > of > > her > > 'Muddy wine,' as she called her camp. She > never > > came > > near > > the house, though we had been great friends > > before. > > > > She used to prowl round the outhouses and pick > up > > all > > sorts > > of things, rubbish for the most part, but > often > > good > > utensils too; all used to be secreted in the > > underground > > camp. She never talked to any one, but used to > > mutter > > continually to herself and her dogs in an > unknown > > tongue > > which only her dogs seemed to understand. > > > > And after crooning an accompaniment to her > steps > > off > > she > > went, a strange enough figure, dancing and > > crooning as > > she > > went towards her camp; and not until the > spirits > > gave > > up > > possession of her did she come near the house > > again. > > > > I used to tell the other blacks to see that > Bootha > > had > > plenty of food. They said she was all right, > the > > spirits > > were looking after her. She was only > > spirit-possessed. > > > > Gradually old Bootha, clothed as usual, came > back > > about the > > place. > > > > Strange stories came through the house blacks > to > > me of > > old > > Bootha. She was very ill for a long time, then > > suddenly she > > recovered; not only recovered but seemed > > rejuvenated. > > We > > heard of wonderful cures she made; how she > always > > consulted > > the spirits about any illness; how there were > > said to be spirits in some of her dogs; how > she > > was > > now a > > rainmaker and, in fact, a fully fledged witch. > > > > I was curious to see some of these wonders, so > > used to > > get > > the old woman to come up when any one was ill, > > consult > > her, > > and generally make much of her. There is no > doubt > > she > > could > > diagnose a case well enough. Matah suffered a > good > > deal > > with a constant pain in one knee, he was quite > > lame > > from > > it. He showed it to Bootha one day. She sang a > > song to > > her spirits, then said: > > > > 'Too muchee water there; you steam him, put > him === message truncated === Spiritual freedom is my birthright. I am a free thinker. I am able to rise above mental prejudices and stereotypes of others. I am a free thinker. Nobody and nothing can manipulate me or deceive me. I am a free thinker. I freely choose truth and love. Today, I embrace a greater degree of spiritual freedom. ________________________________________________________________________________\ ____ Be a better pen pal. Text or chat with friends inside . See how. http://overview.mail./ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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