A Priest and His Family Make the Wilderness Comfortable for
Us--Ancient Remains Similar to those Seen in Sonora--The Climate
of the Sierra--Flora and Fauna--Tarahumare Agriculture--Ceremonies
Connected with the Planting of Corn--Deterioration of Domestic
Animals--Native Dogs of Mexico.
Called on the padre and found him to be a very social, nice,
energetic-looking person with a tinge of the "red man" in his veins.
He complained to me that the Indians were lazy about coming to
mass. None of them paid taxes, and there was no way of forcing
them. Nearly all of them he considered heathens, and only about a
thousand came to the feasts. They arrive in the village on the evening
before, and hear vespers. Then they give themselves up to drinking,
and on the feast day proper are not in a condition to go to church.
He thinks there are some great men among the Tarahumares, but that,
their mental faculties being entirely uncultivated, they are, as it
were, rough diamonds. In the padre's opinion not only all the Indians,
but also the Mexicans living' among them, will soon relapse into
paganism altogether.
Living under rough conditions as he does, it is a lucky thing for
the padre that his physique is equal to emergencies. Once at the
neighbouring village of Tonachic (= where there are pillars) he
admonished the people, in a powerful sermon, to mend their ways. As
they were coming out of the church, a scoundrel who resented the
charges attacked him with a stick, but the padre managed to disarm
him and gave him such a sound thrashing with his assailant's own
weapon that the latter had to keep his bed for a fortnight.
He showed me his stately old adobe church, built in missionary
times. The ceiling, however, was infested with myriads of bats,
the smell of which was quite sickening, and I was glad to get out
again. With him in this uttermost outpost of Christendom lived
his aged mother and six sisters, and they treated us with all the
hospitality their very limited means permitted. We especially enjoyed
their home-made macaroni.
In the family of the good priest lived a little Indian orphan girl,
about five years old, as nice and sweet a child as one might wish to
see. He was teaching her how to read and write, and she had learned
her letters in two months.
The padre, good-natured to officiousness, helped me to get Indians
to be photographed, fie also would insist upon arranging them before
the camera. His efforts, however, were directed more toward achieving
artistic triumph than scientific truth, and he wanted, for instance,
to decorate the Indians with peacock feathers. He yielded, however,
to my suggestion that turkey feathers would be more appropriate,
and straightway ordered one of his turkeys to be caught and deprived
of some of its tail feathers. The only way in which I could show
my appreciation of the disinterested kindness of the family was by
photographing them, too.
It was a new sensation to them, and the ladies asked to have it done
next day, as they wanted to arrange their hair and prepare themselves
properly.
After them it was the turn of the presidente of the village "to look
pleasant," but at this juncture the camera met with an accident. The
ring holding the lens broke and fell out. This happening miles away
from civilisation was decidedly annoying. But the sisters proved
themselves equal to the occasion. Their father having been a tinsmith,
they had picked up the trade and had tools; and the ring was soldered
on so well that it lasted until I returned to the United States the
following year.
Norogachic is situated in the most populous part of the Tarahumare
country, and its presidente exercises authority over the large
surrounding district. He told me that his municipality counted
4,168 souls, among them about 300 Mexicans. With the help of a
very intelligent Mexican I made a rough calculation of the number
of Indians belonging to Tonachic and Guachochic, next neighbours
of Norogachic, and estimated in the former 350, and in the latter
250 families. Counting each family as consisting of eight members,
this would give us a population of 4,800. Thus the most populous
part of the Tarahumare country, including the three municipalities
of Norogachic, Tonachic, and Guachochic, would contain a population
of about 8,500 Indians,
As the presidente of Norogachic is an honourable man and speaks the
native language, he exercised great influence over them, and on one
occasion, when they had gathered in large numbers and threatened to
avenge some abuse, he was able to avert disaster. Nature had endowed
him with the doubtful blessing of bloodshot eyes, a feature generally
attributed to powerful sorcerers, and this was perhaps more a point
in his favour than otherwise with the Indians.
One day he took us to the top of a hill where there were some stones
set in circles, about one foot above and half a foot under the
ground. They reminded us of similar stone arrangements we had come
upon in Sonora, but these were larger and more primitive. Altogether
there were nine circles, varying in size from nine to thirteen feet in
diameter. One, however, measured only five feet across, and the stones
forming it were fully two feet above the ground. Close by was another
similar small circle, and some little distance off still another. On a
small mesa I found a flint arrow-point. There were also some potsherds
there, but of the same kind as those used by the people of to-day.
The natives rightly count only three seasons--the dry, the rainy,
and the winter. The first lasts from March till June, and is very
warm and windy. Throughout July and August one can generally count on
thunder-storms and heavy rains, while the mornings are bright. The
rains then rarely extend over a large territory, but are confined
to local showers, a circumstance very annoying to the agricultural
inhabitants, who often see dark clouds rolling up, apparently full
of moisture, yet resulting in nothing but gusts of wind. A ridge may
change the course of the clouds. Sometimes one valley may be flooded
with rain, while not far away the heat is drying up everything. During
September and October more constant rains occur, and may last more
or less for a week at a time.
In the beginning of the wet season (July and August) the rains come
from the south-west, but later on north-eastern winds bring rain. In
winter there are constant winds from the south-east to the north,
somewhat trying until one gets used to them. Snow is by no means
unknown, and Indians have been known to freeze to death when caught
out intoxicated.
The climate in the sierra, although not so pleasant on account of the
constant winds, is extremely salubrious, the heat never exceeding 97 deg.
F., while the nights are deliciously cool. Lung diseases are here
unknown. When I asked an old American doctor in Guadalupe y Calvo
about his experience in regard to the health of the people, he said,
"Well, here in the mountains they are distressingly healthy. Despite a
complete defiance of every sanitary arrangement, with the graveyards,
the sewers, and a tannery at the river's edge, no diseases originate
here. When cholera reached the mountains some years ago, nobody
died from it. The people simply took a bath in Mexican fashion,
and recovered." Down in the barrancas, however, where the heat often
becomes excessive, the climate is far from healthy, and I have seen
even Indians ill with fever and ague, contracted generally during
the rainy season.
Between these two extremes, on the slopes of the sierra, toward
the warm country, at an elevation of 5,000 feet, I found the most
delightful climate I ever knew. It was like eternal spring, the
air pure and the temperature remarkably even. There is a story of
a Mexican woman, who, settling in this part of the country, broke
her thermometer because the mercury never moved and she therefore
concluded that it was out of order. The pleasantness of the climate
struck me particularly on one occasion, after a prolonged stay in
the invigorating though windy climate of the sierra. I had caught a
cold the night before, and was not feeling very well as I dozed on
the back of my mule while it worked its way down the mountain-side,
but the sleep and the delightful balmy air made me soon feel well
again. At times a mild zephyr played around us, but invariably died
out about sunset. The night was delightfully calm, toward morning
turning slightly cooler, and there was nothing to disturb my sleep
under a big fig-tree but the bits of figs that were thrown down by
the multitudes of bats in its branches. They were gorging themselves
on the fruit, just as we had done the afternoon before.
Journeying on the pine-clad highlands, the traveller finds nothing to
remind him that he is in the southern latitudes, except an occasional
glimpse of an agave between rocks and the fantastic cacti, which,
although so characteristic of Mexican vegetation, are comparatively
scarce in the high sierra. The nopal cactus, whose juicy fruit,
called tuna, and flat leaf-like joints are an important article of
food among the Indians, is found here and there, and is often planted
near the dwellings of the natives. There are also a few species of
_Echinocactus_ and _Mammilaria_, but on the whole the cacti form no
conspicuous feature in the higher altitudes of the sierra.
Along the streamlets which may be found in the numerous small
valleys we met with the slender ash trees, beside alders, shrubs,
_Euonymus_ with brilliant red capsules, willows, etc. Conspicuous in
the landscape was still the madrona, with its pretty, strawberry-like,
edible berries.
Flowers on the whole are not abundant in the sierra. The modest
yellow _Mimulus_ along the water-courses is the first to come and the
last to go. Various forms of columbine (_Aquilegia_) and meadow rue
(_Thalictrum_) should also be remembered. In August and September I
have seen the sloping hills of the sierra north-west of the pueblo
of Panalachic (Banalachic; banala = face, _i. e_., the outline of a
prominent rock near by), covered with large crimson flowers, and also
certain yellow ones, called _baguis_, making the country appear like
a garden. I noticed in the same locality two kinds of lovely lilies,
one yellow and one containing a single large red flower. The Tarahumare
have names for all these plants.
Before all, however, should be mentioned the carmine-red
_Amaryllis_. Like the crocus and the snowdrops of northern climates
it appears before the grass is green. It is a perfect treat to the
eye to meet now and then in this dry and sandy country, and at such
a chilly elevation, this exquisitely beautiful flower, which is
here appreciated only by the humming-birds. Edible plants, species
of _Mentha, Chenopodium, Cirsium_, for instance, and the common
water-cress, are, at a certain time of the year, numerous; but fruits
and berries are rare, blackberries being the most common ones.
Animal life is not particularly plentiful in the sierra. Still, deer,
bears, and mountain lions are fairly common, and there are many kinds
of squirrels and rats. The jaguar (_felis onza_) is found now and then
on the summits of the barrancas. Eagles, hawks, turkeys, blackbirds,
and crows are the most noticeable birds. The turkey is called by
the Tarahumares, tshivi; by the Mexicans of the sierra of Chihuahua,
_guajolote_; while farther south he is designated _cocono_. Now and
then the brilliant green trogon is met with.
There are many species of woodpeckers, all familiar to and named by
the Tarahumares. The giant woodpecker is seen in the more remote parts,
but it is on the point of being exterminated, because the Tarahumares
consider his one or two young such a delicacy that they do not hesitate
to cut down even large trees to get at the nests. The Mexicans shoot
them because their plumage is thought to be beneficial to health. It
is held close to the ears and the head in order to impart its supposed
magnetism and keep out the maleficent effects of the wind. In the
pairing season these birds keep up a chattering noise, which to my
ears was far from disagreeable, but very irritating to a Mexican whom
I employed. He used to shoot the birds because they annoyed him.
Corn is the most important agricultural product of the Tarahumares. The
average crop of a family may be estimated at six or twelve fanegas. One
exceptionally rich Tarahumare, now dead, is said to have raised as
much as four hundred fanegas a year, but this was a fact unique in the
history of the tribe. The people also raise beans, squashes, chile,
and tobacco, all on an exceedingly small scale. On the highlands,
the primitive plough already described (page 121) is still used
sometimes, though it is rapidly being superseded by ploughs of Mexican
pattern. In the arroyos and barrancas, where the condition of the
land makes ploughing impossible, the Indians use the ancient mode
of agriculture, still in vogue among remote natives of Mexico and
called _coamillar_. They cut down the trees, clear a piece of land
from brushwood, and leave it in this condition until just before the
wet season sets in. Then they burn the wood, which by that time is
well dried up, and plant the corn in the ashes. They simply make a
hole in the earth with a stick, drop a few grains of corn into it,
and close it up with the foot. Of the usual number of grains I am
not aware. The Tepehuanes use four. Their hoes are generally bought
from the Mexicans or else home-made, the natural knotted growths of
tree limbs being utilised. Women never assist in ploughing, though
they may be seen helping in the fields with the weeding and hoeing,
and even with the harvesting.
In the sierra a piece of land may yield good crops for three years
in succession without manure, but in the broad mountain valleys and
on the mesas a family can use the same field year after year for
twenty or thirty seasons. On the other hand, down in the barrancas,
a field cannot be used more than two years in succession, because
the corn-plants in that time are already suffocated with weeds. The
planting is done from the middle of April to the first week in July,
and the harvest begins about the first week in October and lasts
until the beginning of December.
Communal principles prevail in clearing the fields, in ploughing--each
furrow in a field is ploughed by a different man--in corn planting,
in hoeing, weeding, harvesting, gathering wood for feasts, in fishing
and in hunting.
If a man wants to have his field attended to, the first thing he
has to do is to prepare a good quantity of the national stimulant,
a kind of beer called tesvino. The more of this he has, the larger
the piece of land he can cultivate, for the only payment his helpers
expect and receive is tesvino.
The master of the house and his sons always do first one day's work
alone, before their friends and neighbours come to help them. Then
they begin in earnest to clear the field of stones, carrying them
in their arms or blankets, and cut down the brushwood. Tesvino is
brought out into the field, and iskiate, and the men, all very much
under the influence of the liquor, work with the animation of a heap
of disturbed ants.
When the work of hoeing and weeding is finished, the workers seize
the master of the field, and, tying his arms crosswise behind him,
load all the implements, that is to say, the hoes, upon his back,
fastening them with ropes. Then they form two single columns, the
landlord in the middle between them, and all facing the house. Thus
they start homeward. Simultaneously the two men at the heads of the
columns begin to run rapidly forward some thirty yards, cross each
other, then turn back, run along the two columns, cross each other
again at the rear and take their places each at the end of his row. As
they pass each other ahead and ill the rear of the columns they beat
their mouths with the hollow of their hands and yell. As soon as they
reach their places at the foot, the next pair in front of the columns
starts off, running in the same way, and thus pair after pair performs
the tour, the procession all the time advancing toward the house.
A short distance in front of it they come to a halt, and are met
by two young men who carry red handkerchiefs tied to sticks like
flags. The father of the family, still tied up and loaded with
the hoes, steps forward alone and kneels down in front of his
house-door. The flag-bearers wave their banners over him, and the
women of the household come out and kneel on their left knees, first
toward the east, and after a little while toward each of the other
cardinal points, west, south, and north.
In conclusion the flags are waved in front of the house. The father
then rises and the people untie him, whereupon he first salutes the
women with the usual greeting, "Kwira!" or "Kwireva!" Now they all
go into the house, and the man makes a short speech thanking them all
for the assistance they have given him, for how could he have gotten
through his work without them? They have provided him with a year's
life (that is, with the wherewithal to sustain it), and now he is going
to give them tesvino. He gives a drinking-gourd full to each one in the
assembly, and appoints one man among them to distribute more to all.
The same ceremony is performed after the ploughing and after the
harvesting. On the first occasion the tied man may be made to carry
the yoke of the oxen, on the second he does not carry anything.
The southern Tarahumares, as well as the northern Tepehuanes,
at harvest time, tie together some ears of corn by the husks,
two and two. The ears are selected from plants which have at least
three or four ears, and after a while tesvino is made from them. At
the harvesting feast, the stalks of these plants are strewn on the
ground, as well as stalks of squash plants, and over them the people
dance kuvala.
The Tarahumare takes good care of his domestic animals and never kills
one of them, unless it be for a sacrifice. Sheep and goats are kept at
night in enclosures or caves. The shepherd follows his flock wherever
the animals choose to find their food, and there are no better herdsmen
than the Tarahumares, who wisely trust to the natural instinct of the
beasts. They do not pride themselves on breeds. It is astonishing to
notice the number of rams with two pairs of horns among the tribe. In
every flock two or three specimens may be observed, one pair bending
forward, the other to the side. I have seen some with three pairs of
horns. Near Nonoava, where the Indians are much Mexicanised, they make
butter and cheese, using the rennets from the cow, sheep, and deer,
but they do not drink the milk, saying that it makes them stupid, and
they are watchful to prevent their children from drinking it. Dogs
are not much liked except for hunting. A great number of them hang
around the houses, but they have to make their own living as best
they can. They are of the same mongrel class found everywhere among
the Indians of to-day. They are generally of a brownish color and
not large, but some of them are yellow and with ears erect.
The so-called dogs of Chihuahua, which command quite a price among
dog-fanciers, are found only in the capital of the state. They are
small pet dogs and very timid, with large ears and prominent eyes. I
understand that the yellowish-brown are considered the purest breed,
but they are found in many different colors, from snow-white and
black-and-white to dark-brown. They are said to have a small cavity
on the top of the head, though according to some authorities this is
not an unfailing mark of the breed, which seems to be indigenous. The
illiterate Mexican, in his tendency to connect everything good with
Montezuma, thinks that the pure dogs of Chihuahua are descendants
of those which were left behind by that regent near Casas Grandes
at the time when he started south, which afterward became wild and
degenerated into the prairie-dogs of to-day.
Another dog indigenous to Mexico is the hairless dog, also a pet,
found throughout the republic among the Mexicans. It is credited with
possessing curative properties, for which reason people keep them in
their beds with them at night.