ORIGIN AND END OF THINGS.
QUICHÉ CREATION-MYTH -- AZTEC ORIGIN-MYTHS -- THE PAPAGOS --
MONTEZUMA AND THE COYOTE -- THE MOQUIS -- THE GREAT SPIDER'S
WEB OF THE PIMAS -- NAVAJO AND PUEBLO CREATIONS -- ORIGIN OF
CLEAR LAKE AND LAKE TAHOE -- CHAREYA OF THE CAHROCS -- MOUNT
SHASTA, THE WIGWAM OF THE GREAT SPIRIT -- IDAHO SPRINGS AND
WATER FALLS -- HOW DIFFERENCES IN LANGUAGE OCCURRED -- YEHL,
THE CREATOR OF THE THLINKEETS -- THE RAVEN AND THE DOG.
[Sidenote: THE POPOL VUH.]
Of all American peoples the Quichés, of Guatemala, have left us the
richest mythological legacy. Their description of the creation as
given in the Popol Vuh, which may be called the national book of the
Quichés,[II-1] is, in its rude strange eloquence and poetic originality,
one of the rarest relics of aboriginal thought. Although obliged in
reproducing it to condense somewhat, I have endeavored to give not
only the substance, but also, as far as possible, the peculiar style
and phraseology of the original. It is with this primeval picture,
whose simple silent sublimity is that of the inscrutable past, that we
begin:--
And the heaven was formed, and all the signs thereof set in their
angle and alignment, and its boundaries fixed towards the four winds
by the Creator and Former, and Mother and Father of life and
existence--he by whom all move and breathe, the Father and Cherisher
of the peace of nations and of the civilization of his people--he
whose wisdom has projected the excellence of all that is on the earth,
or in the lakes, or in the sea.
Behold the first word and the first discourse. There was as yet no
man, nor any animal, nor bird, nor fish, nor crawfish, nor any pit,
nor ravine, nor green herb, nor any tree; nothing was but the
firmament. The face of the earth had not yet appeared--only the
peaceful sea and all the space of heaven. There was nothing yet joined
together, nothing that clung to anything else; nothing that balanced
itself, that made the least rustling, that made a sound in the heaven.
There was nothing that stood up; nothing but the quiet water, but the
sea, calm and alone in its boundaries: nothing existed; nothing but
immobility and silence, in the darkness, in the night.[II-2]
[Sidenote: THE QUICHÉ IDEA OF CREATION.]
Alone also the Creator, the Former, the Dominator, the Feathered
Serpent--those that engender, those that give being, they are upon
the water, like a growing light. They are enveloped in green and blue;
and therefore their name is Gucumatz.[II-3] Lo, now how the heavens
exist, how exists also the Heart of Heaven; such is the name of God;
it is thus that he is called. And they spake; they consulted together
and meditated; they mingled their words and their opinion. And the
creation was verily after this wise: Earth, they said, and on the
instant it was formed; like a cloud or a fog was its beginning. Then
the mountains rose over the water like great lobsters; in an instant
the mountains and the plains were visible, and the cypress and the
pine appeared. Then was the Gucumatz filled with joy, crying out:
Blessed be thy coming, O Heart of Heaven, Hurakan, Thunderbolt. Our
work and our labor has accomplished its end.
The earth and its vegetation having thus appeared, it was peopled with
the various forms of animal life. And the Makers said to the animals:
Speak now our name, honor us, us your mother and father; invoke
Hurakan, the Lightning-flash, the Thunderbolt that strikes, the Heart
of Heaven, the Heart of the Earth, the Creator and Former, Him who
begets, and Him who gives being--speak, call on us, salute us! So was
it said to the animals. But the animals could not answer; they could
not speak at all after the manner of men; they could only cluck, and
croak, each murmuring after his kind in a different manner. This
displeased the Creators, and they said to the animals: Inasmuch as ye
can not praise us, neither call upon our names, your flesh shall be
humiliated; it shall be broken with teeth; ye shall be killed and
eaten.
Again the gods took counsel together; they determined to make man. So
they made a man of clay; and when they had made him, they saw that it
was not good. He was without cohesion, without consistence,
motionless, strengthless, inept, watery; he could not move his head,
his face looked but one way; his sight was restricted, he could not
look behind him; he had been endowed with language, but he had no
intelligence, so he was consumed in the water.
Again is there counsel in heaven: Let us make an intelligent being who
shall adore and invoke us. It was decided that a man should be made of
wood and a woman of a kind of pith. They were made; but the result was
in no wise satisfactory. They moved about perfectly well, it is true;
they increased and multiplied; they peopled the world with sons and
daughters, little wooden mannikins like themselves; but still the
heart and the intelligence were wanting; they held no memory of their
Maker and Former; they led a useless existence, they lived as the
beasts live; they forgot the Heart of Heaven. They were but an essay,
an attempt at men; they had neither blood, nor substance, nor
moisture, nor fat; their cheeks were shrivelled, their feet and hands
dried up; their flesh languished.
[Sidenote: DESTRUCTION AND RE-CREATION OF MAN.]
Then was the Heart of Heaven wroth; and he sent ruin and destruction
upon those ingrates; he rained upon them night and day from heaven
with a thick resin; and the earth was darkened. And the men went mad
with terror; they tried to mount upon the roofs and the houses fell;
they tried to climb the trees and the trees shook them far from their
branches; they tried to hide in the caves and dens of the earth, but
these closed their holes against them. The bird Xecotcovach came to
tear out their eyes; and the Camalotz cut off their head; and the
Cotzbalam devoured their flesh; and the Tecumbalam broke and bruised
their bones to powder. Thus were they all devoted to chastisement and
destruction, save only a few who were preserved as memorials of the
wooden men that had been; and these now exist in the woods as little
apes.[II-4]
Once more are the gods in counsel; in the darkness, in the night of a
desolated universe do they commune together; of what shall we make
man? And the Creator and Former made four perfect men; and wholly of
yellow and white maize was their flesh composed. These were the names
of the four men that were made: the name of the first was
Balam-Quitzé; of the second, Balam-Agab; of the third Mahucutah; and
of the fourth, Iqi-Balam.[II-5] They had neither father nor mother,
neither were they made by the ordinary agents in the work of creation;
but their coming into existence was a miracle extraordinary, wrought
by the special intervention of him who is preëminently The Creator.
Verily, at last, were there found men worthy of their origin and their
destiny; verily, at last, did the gods look on beings who could see
with their eyes, and handle with their hands, and understand with
their hearts. Grand of countenance and broad of limb the four sires of
our race stood up under the white rays of the morning star--sole light
as yet of the primeval world--stood up and looked. Their great clear
eyes swept rapidly over all; they saw the woods and the rocks, the
lakes and the sea, the mountains and the valleys, and the heavens that
were above all; and they comprehended all and admired exceedingly.
Then they returned thanks to those who had made the world and all that
therein was: We offer up our thanks, twice--yea verily, thrice! We
have received life; we speak, we walk, we taste; we hear and
understand; we know both that which is near and that which is far
off; we see all things, great and small, in all the heaven and earth.
Thanks then, Maker and Former, Father and Mother of our life! we have
been created; we are.
But the gods were not wholly pleased with this thing; Heaven they
thought had overshot its mark; these men were too perfect; knew,
understood, and saw too much. Therefore there was counsel again in
heaven: What shall we do with man now? It is not good, this that we
see; these are as gods; they would make themselves equal with us; lo,
they know all things, great and small. Let us now contract their
sight, so that they may see only a little of the surface of the earth
and be content. Thereupon the Heart of Heaven breathed a cloud over
the pupil of the eyes of men, and a veil came over it as when one
breathes on the face of a mirror; thus was the globe of the eye
darkened; neither was that which was far off clear to it any more, but
only that which was near.
Then the four men slept, and there was counsel in heaven: and four
women were made--to Balam-Quitzé was allotted Caha-Paluma to wife; to
Balam-Agab, Chomiha; to Mahucutah, Tzununiha; and to Iqi-Balam,
Cakixaha.[II-6] Now the women were exceedingly fair to look upon; and
when the men awoke, their hearts were glad because of the women.
[Sidenote: THE QUICHÉS SET OUT FOR TULAN-ZUIVA.]
Next, as I interpret the narrative, there were other men created, the
ancestors of other peoples, while the first four were the fathers of
all the branches of the Quiché race. The different tribes at first,
however, lived together amicably enough, in a primitive state; and
increased and multiplied, leading happy lives under their bright and
morning star, precursor of the yet unseen sun. They had as yet no
worship save the breathing of the instinct of their soul, as yet no
altars to the gods; only--and is there not a whole idyl in the simple
words?--only they gazed up into heaven, not knowing what they had come
so far to do![II-7] They were filled with love, with obedience, and with
fear; and lifting their eyes towards heaven, they made their
requests:--
Hail! O Creator, O Former! thou that hearest and understandest us!
abandon us not, forsake us not! O God, thou that art in heaven and on
the earth, O Heart of Heaven, O Heart of Earth! give us descendants
and a posterity as long as the light endure. Give us to walk always in
an open road, in a path without snares; to lead happy, quiet, and
peaceable lives, free of all reproach. It was thus they spake, living
tranquilly, invoking the return of the light, waiting the rising of
the sun, watching the star of the morning, precursor of the sun. But
no sun came, and the four men and their descendants grew uneasy: We
have no person to watch over us, they said, nothing to guard our
symbols. So the four men and their people set out for Tulan-Zuiva,[II-8]
otherwise called the Seven-caves or Seven-ravines, and there they
received gods, each man as head of a family, a god; though inasmuch as
the fourth man, Iqi-Balam, had no children and founded no family, his
god is not usually taken into the account. Balam-Quitzé received the
god Tohil; Balam Agab received the god Avilix; and Mahucutah received
the god Hacavitz; all very powerful gods, but Tohil seems to have been
the chief, and in a general way, god of the whole Quiché nation. Other
people received gods at the same time; and it had been for all a long
march to Tulan.
Now the Quichés had as yet no fire, and as Tulan was a much colder
climate than the happy eastern land they had left, they soon began to
feel the want of it. The god Tohil who was the creator of fire had
some in his possession; so to him, as was most natural, the Quichés
applied, and Tohil in some way supplied them with fire.
But shortly after, there fell a great rain that extinguished all the
fires of the land; and much hail also fell on the heads of the people;
and because of the rain and the hail, their fires were utterly
scattered and put out. Then Tohil created fire again by stamping with
his sandal. Several times thus fire failed them, but Tohil always
renewed it. Many other trials also they underwent in Tulan, famines
and such things, and a general dampness and cold--for the earth was
moist, there being as yet no sun.
Here also the language of all the families was confused so that no one
of the first four men could any longer understand the speech of
another. This also made them very sad. They determined to leave Tulan;
and the greater part of them, under the guardianship and direction of
Tohil, set out to see where they should take up their abode. They
continued on their way amid the most extreme hardships for want of
food; sustaining themselves at one time upon the mere smell of their
staves, and by imagining that they were eating, when in verity and in
truth, they ate nothing. Their heart, indeed, it is again and again
said, was almost broken by affliction. Poor wanderers! they had a
cruel way to go, many forests to pierce, many stern mountains to
overpass and a long passage to make through the sea, along the shingle
and pebbles and drifted sand--the sea being, however, parted for
their passage.
[Sidenote: QUICHÉ ORIGIN OF THE SUN.]
At last they came to a mountain that they named Hacavitz, after one of
their gods, and here they rested--for here they were by some means
given to understand that they should see the sun. Then indeed, was
filled with an exceeding joy the heart of Balam-Quitzé, of
Balam-Agab, of Mahucutah, and of Iqi-Balam. It seemed to them that
even the face of the morning star caught a new and more resplendent
brightness. They shook their incense pans and danced for very
gladness: sweet were their tears in dancing, very hot their
incense--their precious incense. At last the sun commenced to advance:
the animals, small and great, were full of delight; they raised
themselves to the surface of the water; they fluttered in the ravines;
they gathered at the edge of the mountains, turning their heads
together toward that part from which the sun came. And the lion and
the tiger roared. And the first bird that sang was that called the
Queletzu. All the animals were beside themselves at the sight; the
eagle and the kite beat their wings, and every bird, both small and
great. The men prostrated themselves on the ground, for their hearts
were full to the brim.
And the sun, and the moon, and the stars were now all established. Yet
was not the sun then in the beginning the same as now; his heat wanted
force, and he was but as a reflection in a mirror; verily, say the
histories, not at all the same sun as that of to-day. Nevertheless he
dried up and warmed the surface of the earth, and answered many good
ends.
Another wonder when the sun rose! The three tribal gods, Tohil,
Avilix, and Hacavitz, were turned into stone, as were also the gods
connected with the lion, the tiger, the viper, and other fierce and
dangerous animals. Perhaps we should not be alive at this
moment--continues the chronicle--because of the voracity of these
fierce animals, of these lions, and tigers, and vipers; perhaps to-day
our glory would not be in existence, had not the sun caused this
petrification.
And the people multiplied on this Mount Hacavitz, and here they built
their city. It is here also that they began to sing that song called
Kamucu, 'we see.' They sang it, though it made their hearts ache, for
this is what they said in singing: Alas! We ruined ourselves in Tulan,
there lost we many of our kith and kin, they still remain there, left
behind! We indeed have seen the sun, but they--now that his golden
light begins to appear, where are they?
And they worshiped the gods that had become stone, Tohil, Avilix, and
Hacavitz; and they offered them the blood of beasts, and of birds, and
pierced their own ears and shoulders in honor of these gods, and
collected the blood with a sponge, and pressed it out into a cup
before them.
Toward the end of their long and eventful life Balam-Quitzé,
Balam-Agab, Mahucutah, and Iqi-Balam were impelled, apparently by a
supernatural vision, to lay before their gods a more awful offering
than the life of senseless beasts. They began to wet their altars with
the heart's blood of human victims. From their mountain hold they
watched for lonely travelers belonging to the surrounding tribes,
seized, overpowered, and slew them for a sacrifice. Man after man was
missing in the neighboring villages; and the people said: Lo! the
tigers have carried them away--for wherever the blood was of a man
slain, were always found the tracks of many tigers. Now this was the
craft of the priests, and at last the tribes began to suspect the
thing and to follow the tracks of the tigers. But the trails had been
made purposely intricate, by steps returning on themselves and by the
obliteration of steps; and the mountain region where the altars were
was already covered with a thick fog and a small rain, and its paths
flowed with mud.
The hearts of the villagers were thus fatigued within them, pursuing
unknown enemies. At last, however, it became plain that the gods
Tohil, Avilix and Hacavitz, and their worship, were in some way or
other the cause of this bereavement: so the people of the villages
conspired against them. Many attacks, both openly and by ruses, did
they make on the gods, and on the four men, and on the children and
people connected with them; but not once did they succeed, so great
was the wisdom, and power, and courage of the four men and of their
deities. And these three gods petrified, as we have told, could
nevertheless resume a movable shape when they pleased; which indeed
they often did, as will be seen hereafter.
At last the war was finished. By the miraculous aid of a horde of
wasps and hornets, the Quichés utterly defeated and put to the rout in
a general battle all their enemies. And the tribes humiliated
themselves before the face of Balam-Quitzé, of Balam-Agab, and of
Mahucutah: Unfortunates that we are, they said, spare to us at least
our lives. Let it be so, it was answered, although you be worthy of
death; you shall, however, be our tributaries and serve us, as long as
the sun endure, as long as the light shall follow his course. This was
the reply of our fathers and mothers, upon Mount Hacavitz; and
thereafter they lived in great honor and peace, and their souls had
rest, and all the tribes served them there.
[Sidenote: THE END OF THE QUICHÉ CREATION.]
Now it came to pass that the time of the death of Balam-Quitzé,
Balam-Agab, Mahucutah, and Iqi-Balam drew near. No bodily sickness nor
suffering came upon them; but they were forewarned that their death
and their end was at hand. Then they called their sons and their
descendants round them to receive their last counsels.
And the heart of the old men was rent within them. In the anguish of
their heart they sang the Kamucu, the old sad song that they had sung
when the sun first rose, when the sun rose and they thought of the
friends they had left in Tulan, whose face they should see no more
forever. Then they took leave of their wives, one by one; and of their
sons, one by one; of each in particular they took leave; and they
said: We return to our people; already the King of the Stags is
ready, he stretches himself through the heaven. Lo, we are about to
return; our work is done; the days of our life are complete. Remember
us well; let us never pass from your memory. You will see still our
houses and our mountains; multiply in them, and then go on upon your
way and see again the places whence we are come.
So the old men took leave of their sons and of their wives; and
Balam-Quitzé spake again: Behold! he said, I leave you what shall keep
me in remembrance. I have taken leave of you--and am filled with
sadness, he added. Then instantly the four old men were not; but in
their place was a great bundle; and it was never unfolded, neither
could any man find seam therein on rolling it over and over. So it was
called the Majesty Enveloped; and it became a memorial of these
fathers, and was held very dear and precious in the sight of the
Quichés; and they burned incense before it.[II-9]
Thus died and disappeared on Mount Hacavitz Balam-Quitzé, Balam-Agab,
Mahucutah, and Iqi-Balam, these first men who came from the east, from
the other side of the sea. Long time had they been here when they
died; and they were very old, and surnamed the Venerated and the
Sacrificers.
* * * * *
Such is the Quiché account of the creation of the earth and its
inhabitants and of the first years of the existence of mankind.
Although we find here described in the plainest and least equivocal
terms a supreme, all-powerful Creator of all things, there are joined
with him in a somewhat perplexing manner a number of auxiliary deities
and makers. It may be that those whose faith the Popol Vuh represents,
conceiving and speaking of their supreme god under many aspects and as
fulfilling many functions, came at times, either unconsciously or for
dramatic effect, to bring this one great Being upon their mythic
stage, sustaining at once many of his different parts and characters.
Or perhaps, like the Hebrews, they believed that the Creator had made
out of nothing or out of his own essence, in some mysterious way,
angels and other beings to obey and to assist him in his sovereign
designs, and that these 'were called gods.' That these Quiché notions
seem foolishness to us, is no argument as to their adaptation to the
life and thoughts of those who believed them; for, in the words of
Professor Max Müller, "the thoughts of primitive humanity were not
only different from our thoughts, but different also from what we
think their thoughts ought to have been."[II-10]
[Sidenote: MEXICAN COSMOGONY.]
Yet whatever be the inconsistencies that obscure the Popol Vuh, we
find them multiplied in the Mexican cosmogony, a tangled string of
meagre and apparently fragmentary traditions. There appear to have
been two principal schools of opinion in Anáhuac, differing as to who
was the Creator of the world, as well as on other points--two veins
of tradition, perhaps of common origin, which often seem to run into
one, and are oftener still considered as one by historians to whom
these heathen vanities were matters of little importance. The more
advanced school, ascribing its inspiration to Toltec sources, seems to
have flourished notably in Tezcuco, especially while the famous
Nezahualcoyotl reigned there, and to have had very definite
monotheistic ideas. It taught, as is asserted in unmistakable terms,
that all things had been made by one God, omnipotent and invisible;
and to this school were probably owing the many gentle and beautiful
ideas and rites, mingled with the hard, coarse, and prosaic cult of
the mass of the people.[II-11]
The other school may be considered as more distinctively national, and
as representing more particularly the ordinary Mexican mind. To it is to
be ascribed by far the larger part of all we know about the Mexican
religion.[II-12] According to the version of this school, Tezcatlipoca,
a god whose birth and adventures are set forth hereafter, was the
creator of the material heaven and earth, though not of mankind; and
sometimes even the honor of this partial creation is disputed by others
of the gods.
One Mexican nation, again, according to an ancient writer of their own
blood, affirmed that the earth had been created by chance; and as for
the heavens, they had always existed.[II-13]
[Sidenote: CHIMALPOPOCA MANUSCRIPT.]
From the fragments of the Chimalpopoca manuscript given by the Abbé
Brasseur de Bourbourg we learn that the Creator--whoever he may have
been--produced his work in successive epochs. In the sign Tochtli, the
earth was created; in the sign Acatl was made the firmament, and in
the sign Tecpatl the animals. Man it is added, was made and animated
out of ashes or dust by God on the seventh day, Ehecatl, but finished
and perfected by that mysterious personage Quetzalcoatl. However this
account may be reconciled with itself or with others, it further
appears that man was four times made and four times destroyed.[II-14]
This may perhaps be looked upon as proceeding from what I have called
for convenience the Toltecan school, though this particular fragment
shows traces of Christian influence. What follows seems however to
belong to a distinctively Mexican and ruder vein of thought. It is
gathered from Mendieta, who was indebted again to Fray Andres de
Olmos, one of the earliest missionaries among the Mexicans of whom he
treats; and it is decidedly one of the most authentic accounts of such
matters extant.
[Sidenote: AZTEC CREATION-MYTHS.]
The Mexicans in most of the provinces were agreed that there was a god
in heaven called Citlalatonac, and a goddess called Citlalicue;[II-15]
and that this goddess had given birth to a flint knife, Tecpatl. Now
she had many sons living with her in heaven, who seeing this
extraordinary thing were alarmed, and flung the flint down to the
earth. It fell in a place called Chicomoztoc, that is to say the Seven
Caves, and there immediately sprang up from it one thousand six
hundred gods. These gods being alone on the earth--though as will
hereafter appear, there had been men in the world at a former
period--sent up their messenger Tlotli, the Hawk, to pray their
mother to empower them to create men, so that they might have servants
as became their lineage. Citlalicue seemed to be a little ashamed of
these sons of hers, born in so strange a manner, and she twitted them
cruelly enough on what they could hardly help: Had you been what you
ought to have been, she exclaimed, you would still be in my company.
Nevertheless she told them what to do in the matter of obtaining their
desire: Go beg of Mictlanteuctli, Lord of Hades, that he may give you
a bone or some ashes of the dead that are with him; which having
received you shall sacrifice over it, sprinkling blood from your own
bodies. And the fallen gods having consulted together, sent one of
their number, called Xolotl,[II-16] down to hades as their mother had
advised. He succeeded in getting a bone of six feet long from
Mictlanteuctli; and then, wary of his grisly host, he took an abrupt
departure, running at the top of his speed. Wroth at this, the
infernal chief gave chase; not causing to Xolotl, however, any more
serious inconvenience than a hasty fall in which the bone was broken
in pieces. The messenger gathered up what he could in all haste, and
despite his stumble made his escape. Reaching the earth, he put the
fragments of bone into a basin, and all the gods drew blood from their
bodies and sprinkled it into the vessel. On the fourth day there was a
movement among the wetted bones and a boy lay there before all; and in
four days more, the blood-letting and sprinkling being still kept up,
a girl was lifted from the ghastly dish. The children were given to
Xolotl to bring up; and he fed them on the juice of the maguey.[II-17]
Increasing in stature, they became man and woman; and from them are
the people of the present day descended, who, even as the primordial
bone was broken into unequal pieces, vary in size and shape. The name
of this first man was Iztacmixcuatl, and the name of his wife
Ilancueitl,[II-18] and they had six sons born to them, whose descendants,
with their god-masters, in process of time moved eastward from their
original home, almost universally described as having been towards
Jalisco.
Now there had been no sun in existence for many years; so the gods
being assembled in a place called Teotihuacan, six leagues from
Mexico, and gathered at the time round a great fire, told their
devotees that he of them who should first cast himself into that fire,
should have the honor of being transformed into a sun. So one of them
called Nanahuatzin--either as most say, out of pure bravery, or as
Sahagun relates, because his life had become a burden to him through a
syphilitic disease--flung himself into the fire. Then the gods began
to peer through the gloom in all directions for the expected light and
to make bets as to what part of heaven he should first appear in. And
some said Here, and some said There; but when the sun rose they were
all proved wrong, for not one of them had fixed upon the east.[II-19]
And in that same hour, though they knew it not, the decree went forth
that they should all die by sacrifice.
[Sidenote: HOW THE SUN WAS PLACED IN THE HEAVENS.]
The sun had risen indeed, and with a glory of the cruel fire about him
that not even the eyes of the gods could endure; but he moved not.
There he lay on the horizon; and when the deities sent Tlotli their
messenger to him, with orders that he should go on upon his way, his
ominous answer was, that he would never leave that place till he had
destroyed and put an end to them all. Then a great fear fell upon
some, while others were moved only to anger; and among the latter was
one Citli, who immediately strung his bow and advanced against the
glittering enemy. By quickly lowering his head the Sun avoided the
first arrow shot at him; but the second and third had attained his
body in quick succession, when, filled with fury, he seized the last
and launched it back upon his assailant. And the brave Citli laid
shaft to string nevermore, for the arrow of the sun pierced his
forehead.
Then all was dismay in the assembly of the gods, and despair filled
their heart, for they saw that they could not prevail against the
shining one; and they agreed to die, and to cut themselves open
through the breast. Xolotl was appointed minister, and he killed his
companions one by one, and last of all he slew himself also.[II-20] So
they died like gods; and each left to the sad and wondering men who
were his servants, his garments for a memorial. And these servants
made up, each party, a bundle of the raiment that had been left to
them, binding it about a stick into which they had bedded a small
green stone to serve as a heart. These bundles were called
_tlaquimilloli_, and each bore the name of that god whose memorial it
was; and these things were more reverenced than the ordinary gods of
stone and wood of the country. Fray Andres de Olmos found one of these
relics in Tlalmanalco, wrapped up in many cloths, and half rotten with
being kept hid so long.[II-21]
Immediately on the death of the gods the sun began his motion in the
heavens; and a man called Tecuzistecatl, or Tezcociztecatl, who, when
Nanahuatzin leaped into the fire, had retired into a cave, now emerged
from his concealment as the moon. Others say that instead of going
into a cave, this Tecuzistecatl, had leaped into the fire after
Nanahuatzin, but that, the heat of the fire being somewhat abated, he
had come out less brilliant than the sun. Still another variation is,
that the sun and moon came out equally bright, but this not seeming
good to the gods, one of them took a rabbit by the heels and slung it
into the face of the moon, dimming its lustre with a blotch whose mark
may be seen to this day.
After the gods had died in the way herein related, leaving their
garments behind as relics, those servants went about everywhere,
bearing these relics like bundles upon their shoulders, very sad and
pensive and wondering if ever again they would see their departed
gods. Now the name of one of these deceased deities was Tezcatlipoca,
and his servant having arrived at the sea coast, was favored with an
apparition of his master in three different shapes. And Tezcatlipoca
spake to his servant saying: Come hither, thou that lovest me so well,
that I may tell thee what thou hast to do. Go now to the House of the
Sun and fetch thence singers and instruments so that thou mayest make
me a festival; but first call upon the whale, and upon the siren, and
upon the tortoise, and they shall make thee a bridge to the sun.
Then was all this done; and the messenger went across the sea upon his
living bridge, towards the House of the Sun, singing what he had to
say. And the Sun heard the song, and he straitly charged his people
and servants, saying: See now that ye make no response to this chant,
for whoever replies to it must be taken away by the singer. But the
song was so exceeding sweet that some of them could not but answer,
and they were lured away, bearing with them the drum, _teponaztli_,
and the kettle-drum, _vevetl_. Such was the origin of the festivals
and the dances to the gods; and the songs sung during these dances
they held as prayers, singing them always with great accuracy of
intonation and time.
[Sidenote: THE TEZCUCAN ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION.]
In their oral traditions, the Tezcucans agreed with the usual Mexican
account of creation--the falling of the flint from heaven to earth,
and so on--but what they afterward showed in a picture, and explained
to Fray Andres de Olmos as the manner of the creation of mankind, was
this: The event took place in the land of Aculma, on the Tezcucan
boundary at a distance of two leagues from Tezcuco and of five from
Mexico. It is said that the sun, being at the hour of nine, cast a
dart into the earth at the place we have mentioned and made a hole;
from this hole a man came out, the first man and somewhat imperfect
withal, as there was no more of him than from the arm-pits up, much
like the conventional European cherub, only without wings. After that
the woman came up out of the hole. The rest of the story was not
considered proper for printing by Mendieta; but at any rate from these
two are mankind descended. The name of the first man was
Aculmaitl--that is to say, _aculli_, shoulder, and _maitl_, hand or
arm--and from him the town of Aculma is said to take its name.[II-22]
And this etymology seems to make it probable that the details of this
myth are derived, to some extent, from the name of the place in which
it was located; or that the name of the first man belonging to an
early phase of the language, has been misunderstood, and that to the
false etymology the details of the myth are owing.
As already stated there had been men on the earth previous to that
final and perfect creation of man from the bone supplied by
Mictlanteuctli, and wetted by the gods with their own blood at the
place of the Seven Caves. These men had been swept away by a
succession of great destructions. With regard to the number of these
destructions it is hard to speak positively, as on no single point in
the wide range of early American religion, does there exist so much
difference of opinion. All the way from twice to five times, following
different accounts, has the world been desolated by tremendous
convulsions of nature. I follow most closely the version of the
Tezcucan historian Ixtlilxochitl, as being one of the earliest
accounts, as, prima facie, from its origin, one of the most authentic,
and as being supported by a majority of respectable historians up to
the time of Humboldt.
[Sidenote: THE AGES OR SUNS OF THE MEXICANS.]
Of the creation which ushered in the first age we know nothing; we are
only told by Boturini, that giants then began to appear on the earth.
This First Age; or 'sun,' was called the Sun of the Water, and it was
ended by a tremendous flood in which every living thing perished, or
was transformed, except, following some accounts, one man and one
woman of the giant race, of whose escape more hereafter. The Second
Age, called the Sun of the Earth, was closed with earthquakes,
yawnings of the earth, and the overthrow of the highest mountains.
Giants, or Quinamés, a powerful and haughty race still appear to be
the only inhabitants of the world. The Third Age was the Sun of the
Air. It was ended by tempests and hurricanes, so destructive that few
indeed of the inhabitants of the earth were left; and those that were
saved, lost, according to the Tlascaltec account, their reason and
speech, becoming monkeys.
The present is the Fourth Age. To it appear to belong the falling of
the goddess-born flint from heaven, the birth of the sixteen hundred
heroes from that flint, the birth of mankind from the bone brought
from hades, the transformation of Nanahuatzin into the sun, the
transformation of Tezcatecatl into the moon, and the death of the
sixteen hundred heroes or gods. It is called the Sun of Fire, and is
to be ended by a universal conflagration.[II-23]
Connected with the great flood of water, there is a Mexican tradition
presenting some analogies to the story of Noah and his ark. In most of
the painted manuscripts supposed to relate to this event, a kind of
boat is represented floating over the waste of water, and containing a
man and a woman. Even the Tlascaltecs, the Zapotecs, the Miztecs, and
the people of Michoacan are said to have had such pictures. The man is
variously called Coxcox, Teocipactli, Tezpi, and Nata; the woman
Xochiquetzal and Nena.[II-24]
[Sidenote: THE TOWER OF BABEL.]
The following has been usually accepted as the ordinary Mexican
version of this myth: In Atonatiuh, the Age of Water, a great flood
covered all the face of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof were
turned into fishes. Only one man and one woman escaped, saving
themselves in the hollow trunk of an _ahahuete_ or bald cypress; the
name of the man being Coxcox, and that of his wife Xochiquetzal. On
the waters abating a little they grounded their ark on the Peak of
Colhuacan, the Ararat of Mexico. Here they increased and multiplied,
and children began to gather about them, children who were all born
dumb. And a dove came and gave them tongues, innumerable languages.
Only fifteen of the descendants of Coxcox, who afterward became heads
of families, spake the same language or could at all understand each
other; and from these fifteen are descended the Toltecs, the Aztecs,
and the Acolhúas. This dove is not the only bird mentioned in these
deluvial traditions, and must by no means be confounded with the birds
of another palpably Christianized story. For in Michoacan a tradition
was preserved, following which the name of the Mexican Noah was Tezpi.
With better fortune than that ascribed to Coxcox, he was able to save,
in a spacious vessel, not only himself and his wife, but also his
children, several animals, and a quantity of grain for the common use.
When the waters began to subside, he sent out a vulture that it might
go to and fro on the earth and bring him word again when the dry land
began to appear. But the vulture fed upon the carcasses that were
strewed in every part, and never returned. Then Tezpi sent out other
birds, and among these was a humming-bird. And when the sun began to
cover the earth with a new verdure, the humming-bird returned to its
old refuge bearing green leaves. And Tezpi saw that his vessel was
aground near the mountain of Colhuacan and he landed there.
The Mexicans round Cholula had a special legend, connecting the escape
of a remnant from the great deluge with the often-mentioned story of
the origin of the people of Anáhuac from Chicomoztoc, or the Seven
Caves. At the time of the cataclysm, the country, according to Pedro
de los Rios, was inhabited by giants. Some of these perished utterly;
others were changed into fishes; while seven brothers of them found
safety by closing themselves into certain caves in a mountain called
Tlaloc. When the waters were assuaged, one of the giants, Xelhua,
surnamed the Architect, went to Cholula and began to build an
artificial mountain, as a monument and a memorial of the Tlaloc that
had sheltered him and his when the angry waters swept through all the
land. The bricks were made in Tlamanalco, at the foot of the Sierra de
Cocotl, and passed to Cholula from hand to hand along a file of
men--whence these came is not said--stretching between the two places.
Then were the jealousy and the anger of the gods aroused, as the huge
pyramid rose slowly up, threatening to reach the clouds and the great
heaven itself; and the gods launched their fire upon the builders and
slew many, so that the work was stopped.[II-25] But the half-finished
structure, afterwards dedicated by the Cholultecs to Quetzalcoatl,
still remains to show how well Xelhua, the giant, deserved his surname
of the Architect.
[Sidenote: THE MEXICAN DELUGE.]
Yet another record remains to us of a traditional Mexican deluge, in
the following extract from the Chimalpopoca Manuscript. Its words seem
to have a familiar sound; but it would hardly be scientific to draw
from such a fragment any very sweeping conclusion as to its
relationship, whether that be Quiché or Christian:--
When the Sun, or Age, Nahui-Atl came, there had passed already four
hundred years; then came two hundred years, then seventy and six, and
then mankind were lost and drowned and turned into fishes. The waters
and the sky drew near each other; in a single day all was lost; the
day Four Flower consumed all that there was of our flesh. And this
year was the year Ce-Calli; on the first day, Nahui-Atl, all was lost.
The very mountains were swallowed up in the flood and the waters
remained, lying tranquil during fifty and two spring-times. But before
the flood began, Titlacahuan had warned the man Nata and his wife
Nena, saying: Make now no more pulque, but hollow out to yourselves a
great cypress, into which you shall enter when, in the month Tozoztli,
the waters shall near the sky. Then they entered into it, and when
Titlacahuan had shut them in, he said to the man: Thou shalt eat but a
single ear of maize, and thy wife but one also. And when they had
finished eating, each an ear of maize, they prepared to set forth, for
the waters remained tranquil and their log moved no longer; and
opening it they began to see the fishes. Then they lit a fire, rubbing
pieces of wood together, and they roasted fish. And behold the deities
Citlallinicué and Citlallatonac looking down from above, cried out: O
divine Lord! what is this fire that they make there? wherefore do they
so fill the heaven with smoke? And immediately Titlacahuan
Tetzcatlipoca came down, and set himself to grumble, saying: What does
this fire here? Then he seized the fishes and fashioned them behind
and before, and changed them into dogs.[II-26]
We turn now to the traditions of some nations situated on the
outskirts of the Mexican Empire, traditions differing from those of
Mexico, if not in their elements, at least in the combination of those
elements. Following our usual custom, I give the following legend
belonging to the Miztecs just as they themselves were accustomed to
depict and to interpret it in their primitive scrolls:--[II-27]
[Sidenote: THE FLYING HEROES OF MIZTECA.]
In the year and in the day of obscurity and darkness, yea even before
the days or the years were, when the world was in a great darkness and
chaos, when the earth was covered with water and there was nothing but
mud and slime on all the face of the earth--behold a god became
visible, and his name was the Deer, and his surname was the
Lion-Snake. There appeared also a very beautiful goddess called the
Deer, and surnamed the Tiger-Snake.[II-28] These two gods were the
origin and beginning of all the gods.
Now when these two gods became visible in the world, they made, in
their knowledge and omnipotence, a great rock, upon which they built a
very sumptuous palace, a masterpiece of skill, in which they made
their abode upon earth. On the highest part of this building there was
an axe of copper, the edge being uppermost, and on this axe the
heavens rested.
This rock and the palace of the gods were on a mountain in the
neighborhood of the town of Apoala in the province of Mizteca Alta.
The rock was called The Place of Heaven; there the gods first abode on
earth, living many years in great rest and content, as in a happy and
delicious land, though the world still lay in obscurity and darkness.
The father and mother of all the gods being here in their place, two
sons were born to them, very handsome and very learned in all wisdom
and arts. The first was called the Wind of Nine Snakes, after the name
of the day on which he was born; and the second was called, in like
manner, the Wind of Nine Caves. Very daintily indeed were these youths
brought up. When the elder wished to amuse himself, he took the form
of an eagle, flying thus far and wide; the younger turned himself into
a small beast of a serpent shape, having wings that he used with such
agility and sleight that he became invisible, and flew through rocks
and walls even as through the air. As they went, the din and clamor of
these brethren was heard by those over whom they passed. They took
these figures to manifest the power that was in them, both in
transforming themselves and in resuming again their original shape.
And they abode in great peace in the mansion of their parents, so they
agreed to make a sacrifice and an offering to these gods, to their
father and to their mother. Then they took each a censer of clay, and
put fire therein, and poured in ground _beleño_ for incense; and this
offering was the first that had ever been made in the world. Next the
brothers made to themselves a garden, in which they put many trees,
and fruit-trees, and flowers, and roses, and odorous herbs of
different kinds. Joined to this garden they laid out a very beautiful
meadow, which they fitted up with all things necessary for offering
sacrifice to the gods. In this manner the two brethren left their
parents' house, and fixed themselves in this garden to dress it and to
keep it, watering the trees and the plants and the odorous herbs,
multiplying them, and burning incense of powder of beleño in censers
of clay to the gods, their father and mother. They made also vows to
these gods, and promises, praying that it might seem good to them to
shape the firmament and lighten the darkness of the world, and to
establish the foundation of the earth, or rather to gather the waters
together so that the earth might appear--as they had no place to rest
in save only one little garden. And to make their prayers more
obligatory upon the gods, they pierced their ears and tongues with
flakes of flint, sprinkling the blood that dropped from the wounds
over the trees and plants of the garden with a willow branch, as a
sacred and blessed thing. After this sort they employed themselves,
postponing pleasure till the time of the granting of their desire,
remaining always in subjection to the gods, their father and mother,
and attributing to them more power and divinity than they really
possessed.
Fray Garcia here makes a break in the relation--that he may not weary
his readers with so many absurdities--but it would appear that the
firmament was arranged and the earth made fit for mankind, who about
that time must also have made their appearance. For there came a great
deluge afterwards, wherein perished many of the sons and daughters
that had been born to the gods; and it is said that when the deluge
was passed the human race was restored as at the first, and the
Miztec kingdom populated, and the heavens and the earth established.
This we may suppose to have been the traditional origin of the common
people; but the governing family of Mizteca proclaimed themselves the
descendants of two youths born from two majestic trees that stood at
the entrance of the gorge of Apoala, and that maintained themselves
there despite a violent wind continually rising from a cavern in the
vicinity.
[Sidenote: THE DUEL WITH THE SUN.]
Whether the trees of themselves produced these youths, or whether some
primeval Æsir, as in the Scandinavian story, gave them shape and blood
and breath and sense, we know not. We are only told that soon or late
the youths separated, each going his own way to conquer lands for
himself. The braver of the two coming to the vicinity of Tilantongo,
armed with buckler and bow, was much vexed and oppressed by the ardent
rays of the sun, which he took to be the lord of that district
striving to prevent his entrance therein. Then the young warrior
strung his bow, and advanced his buckler before him, and drew shafts
from his quiver. He shot there against the great light even till the
going down of the same; then he took possession of all that land,
seeing he had grievously wounded the sun, and forced him to hide
behind the mountains. Upon this story is founded the lordship of all
the caciques of Mizteca, and upon their descent from this mighty
archer their ancestor. Even to this day, the chiefs of the Miztecs
blazon as their arms a plumed chief with bow, arrows, and shield, and
the sun in front of him setting behind gray clouds.[II-29]
Of the origin of the Zapotecs, a people bordering on these Miztecs,
Burgoa says, with a touching simplicity, that he could find no account
worthy of belief. Their historical paintings he ascribes to the
invention of the devil, affirming hotly that these people were blinder
in such vanities than the Egyptians and the Chaldeans. Some, he said,
to boast of their valor made themselves out the sons of lions and
divers wild beasts; others, grand lords of ancient lineage, were
produced by the greatest and most shady trees; while still others of
an unyielding and obstinate nature, were descended from rocks. Their
language, continues the worthy Provincial, striking suddenly and by an
undirected shot the very center of mythological interpretation--their
language was full of metaphors; those who wished to persuade spake
always in parables, and in like manner painted their historians.[II-30]
In Guatemala, according to the relations given to Father Gerónimo
Roman by the natives, it was believed there was a time when nothing
existed but a certain divine Father called Xchmel, and a divine Mother
called Xtmana. To these were born three sons,[II-31] the eldest of whom,
filled with pride and presumption, set about a creation contrary to
the will of his parents. But he could create nothing save old vessels
fit for mean uses, such as earthen pots, jugs, and things still more
despicable; and he was hurled into hades. Then the two younger
brethren, called respectively Hunchevan and Hunavan, prayed their
parents for permission to attempt the work in which their brother had
failed so signally. And they were granted leave, being told at the
same time, that inasmuch as they had humbled themselves, they would
succeed in their undertaking. Then they made the heavens, and the
earth with the plants thereon, and fire and air, and out of the earth
itself they made a man and a woman--presumably the parents of the
human race.
According to Torquemada, there was a deluge some time after this, and
after the deluge the people continued to invoke as god the great
Father and the great Mother already mentioned. But at last a
principal woman[II-32] among them, having received a revelation from
heaven, taught them the true name of God, and how that name should be
adored; all this, however, they afterward forgot.[II-33]
In Nicaragua, a country where the principal language was a Mexican
dialect, it was believed that ages ago the world was destroyed by a
flood in which the most part of mankind perished. Afterward the
_teotes_, or gods, restocked the earth as at the beginning. Whence
came the teotes, no one knows; but the names of two of them who took a
principal part in the creation were Tamagostat and Cipattonal.[II-34]
[Sidenote: THE COYOTE OF THE PAPAGOS.]
Leaving now the Central American region we pass north into the Papago
country, lying south of the Gila, with the river Santa Cruz on the
east and the Gulf of California on the west. Here we meet for the
first time the coyote, or prairie wolf; we find him much more than an
animal, something more even than a man, only a little lower than the
gods. In the following Papago myth[II-35] he figures as a prophet, and
as a minister and assistant to a certain great hero-god Montezuma, whom
we are destined to meet often, and in many characters, as a central
figure in the myths of the Gila valley:--
[Sidenote: LEGEND OF MONTEZUMA.]
The Great Spirit made the earth and all living things, before he made
man. And he descended from heaven, and digging in the earth, found
clay such as the potters use, which, having again ascended into the
sky, he dropped into the hole that he had dug. Immediately there came
out Montezuma and, with the assistance of Montezuma, the rest of the
Indian tribes in order. Last of all came the Apaches, wild from their
natal hour, running away as fast as they were created. Those first
days of the world were happy and peaceful days. The sun was nearer the
earth than he is now; his grateful rays made all the seasons equal,
and rendered garments unnecessary. Men and beasts talked together, a
common language made all brethren. But an awful destruction ended this
happy age. A great flood destroyed all flesh wherein was the breath of
life; Montezuma and his friend the Coyote alone escaping. For before
the flood began, the Coyote prophesied its coming, and Montezuma took
the warning and hollowed out a boat to himself, keeping it ready on
the topmost summit of Santa Rosa. The Coyote also prepared an ark;
gnawing down a great cane by the river bank, entering it, and stopping
up the end with a certain gum. So when the waters rose these two saved
themselves, and met again at last on dry land after the flood had
passed away. Naturally enough Montezuma was now anxious to know how
much dry land had been left, and he sent the Coyote off on four
successive journeys, to find exactly where the sea lay toward each of
the four winds. From the west and from the south, the answer swiftly
came: The sea is at hand. A longer search was that made towards the
east, but at last there too was the sea found. On the north only was
no water found, though the faithful messenger almost wearied himself
out with searching. In the meantime the Great Spirit, aided by
Montezuma, had again repeopled the world, and animals and men began to
increase and multiply. To Montezuma had been allotted the care and
government of the new race; but puffed up with pride and self
importance, he neglected the most important duties of his onerous
position, and suffered the most disgraceful wickedness to pass
unnoticed among the people. In vain the Great Spirit came down to
earth and remonstrated with his vicegerent, who only scorned his laws
and advice, and ended at last by breaking out into open rebellion.
Then indeed the Great Spirit was filled with anger, and he returned to
heaven, pushing back the sun on his way, to that remote part of the
sky he now occupies. But Montezuma hardened his heart, and collecting
all the tribes to aid him, set about building a house that should
reach up to heaven itself. Already it had attained a great height, and
contained many apartments lined with gold, silver, and precious
stones, the whole threatening soon to make good the boast of its
architect, when the Great Spirit launched his thunder, and laid its
glory in ruins. Still Montezuma hardened himself; proud and
inflexible, he answered the thunderer out of the haughty defiance of
his heart; he ordered the temple-houses to be desecrated, and the holy
images to be dragged in the dust, he made them a scoff and byword for
the very children in the village streets. Then the Great Spirit
prepared his supreme punishment. He sent an insect flying away towards
the east, towards an unknown land, to bring the Spaniards. When these
came, they made war upon Montezuma and destroyed him, and utterly
dissipated the idea of his divinity.[II-36]
[Sidenote: DELUGE OF THE PIMAS.]
The Pimas,[II-37] a neighboring and closely allied people to the Papagos,
say that the earth was made by a certain Chiowotmahke, that is to say
Earth-prophet. It appeared in the beginning like a spider's web,
stretching far and fragile across the nothingness that was. Then the
Earth-prophet flew over all lands in the form of a butterfly, till he
came to the place he judged fit for his purpose, and there he made
man. And the thing was after this wise: The Creator took clay in his
hands, and mixing it with the sweat of his own body, kneaded the whole
into a lump. Then he blew upon the lump till it was filled with life
and began to move; and it became man and woman. This Creator had a son
called Szeukha, who, when the world was beginning to be tolerably
peopled, lived in the Gila valley, where lived also at the same time a
great prophet, whose name has been forgotten. Upon a certain night
when the prophet slept, he was wakened by a noise at the door of his
house, and when he looked, a great Eagle stood before him. And the
Eagle spake: Arise, thou that healest the sick, thou that shouldest
know what is to come, for behold a deluge is at hand. But the prophet
laughed the bird to scorn and gathered his robes about him and slept.
Afterwards the Eagle came again and warned him of the waters near at
hand; but he gave no ear to the bird at all. Perhaps he would not
listen because this Eagle had an exceedingly bad reputation among men,
being reported to take at times the form of an old woman that lured
away girls and children to a certain cliff so that they were never
seen again; of this, however, more anon. A third time, the Eagle came
to warn the prophet, and to say that all the valley of the Gila should
be laid waste with water; but the prophet gave no heed. Then, in the
twinkling of an eye, and even as the flapping of the Eagle's wings
died away into the night, there came a peal of thunder and an awful
crash; and a green mound of water reared itself over the plain. It
seemed to stand upright for a second, then, cut incessantly by the
lightning, goaded on like a great beast, it flung itself upon the
prophet's hut. When the morning broke there was nothing to be seen
alive but one man--if indeed he were a man; Szeukha, the son of the
Creator, had saved himself by floating on a ball of gum or resin. On
the waters falling a little, he landed near the mouth of the Salt
River, upon a mountain where there is a cave that can still be seen,
together with the tools and utensils Szeukha used while he lived
there. Szeukha was very angry with the Great Eagle, who he probably
thought had had more to do with bringing on the flood than appears in
the narrative. At any rate the general reputation of the bird was
sufficiently bad, and Szeukha prepared a kind of rope ladder from a
very tough species of tree, much like woodbine, with the aid of which
he climbed up to the cliff where the Eagle lived, and slew him.[II-38]
Looking about here, he found the mutilated and decaying bodies of a
great multitude of those that the Eagle had stolen and taken for a
prey; and he raised them all to life again and sent them away to
repeople the earth. In the house or den of the Eagle, he found a woman
that the monster had taken to wife, and a child. These he sent also
upon their way, and from these are descended that great people called
Hohocam, 'ancients or grandfathers,' who were led in all their
wanderings by an eagle, and who eventually passed into Mexico.[II-39] One
of these Hohocam named Sivano, built the Casa Grande on the Gila, and
indeed the ruins of this structure are called after his name to this
day. On the death of Sivano, his son led a branch of the Hohocam to
Salt River, where he built certain edifices and dug a large canal, or
_acequia_. At last it came about that a woman ruled over the Hohocam.
Her throne was cut out of a blue stone, and a mysterious bird was her
constant attendant. These Hohocam were at war with a people that lived
to the east of them, on the Rio Verde, and one day the bird warned her
that the enemy was at hand. The warning was disregarded or it came too
late, for the eastern people came down in three bands; destroyed the
cities of the Hohocam, and killed or drove away all the inhabitants.
* * * * *
Most of the Pueblo tribes call themselves the descendants of
Montezuma;[II-40] the Moquis, however, have a quite different story of
their origin. They believe in a great Father living where the sun
rises; and in a great Mother, whose home is where the sun goes down.
The Father is the father of evil, war, pestilence, and famine; but
from the Mother are all joys, peace, plenty, and health. In the
beginning of time the Mother produced from her western home nine races
of men in the following primary forms: First, the Deer race; second,
the Sand race; third, the Water race; fourth, the Bear race; fifth,
the Hare race; sixth, the Prairie-wolf race; seventh, the Rattle-snake
race; eighth, the Tobacco-plant race; and ninth, the Reed-grass race.
All these the Mother placed respectively on the spots where their
villages now stand, and transformed them into the men who built the
present Pueblos. These race-distinctions are still sharply kept up;
for they are believed to be realities, not only of the past and
present, but also of the future; every man when he dies shall be
resolved into his primeval form; shall wave in the grass, or drift in
the sand, or prowl on the prairie as in the beginning.[II-41]
[Sidenote: CAVE-ORIGIN OF THE NAVAJOS.]
The Navajos, living north of the Pueblos, say that at one time all the
nations, Navajos, Pueblos, Coyoteros, and white people, lived
together, underground in the heart of a mountain near the river San
Juan. Their only food was meat, which they had in abundance, for all
kinds of game were closed up with them in their cave; but their light
was dim and only endured for a few hours each day. There were happily
two dumb men among the Navajos, flute-players who enlivened the
darkness with music. One of these striking by chance on the roof of
the limbo with his flute, brought out a hollow sound, upon which the
elders of the tribes determined to bore in the direction whence the
sound came. The flute was then set up against the roof, and the
Raccoon sent up the tube to dig a way out; but he could not. Then the
Moth-worm mounted into the breach, and bored and bored till he found
himself suddenly on the outside of the mountain and surrounded by
water. Under these novel circumstances, he heaped up a little mound
and set himself down on it to observe and ponder the situation. A
critical situation enough! for, from the four corners of the universe,
four great white Swans bore down upon him, every one with two arrows,
one under either wing. The Swan from the north reached him first, and
having pierced him with two arrows, drew them out and examined their
points, exclaiming as the result: He is of my race. So also, in
succession, did all the others. Then they went away; and towards the
directions in which they departed, to the north, south, east, and
west, were found four great _arroyos_, by which all the water flowed
off, leaving only mud. The worm now returned to the cave, and the
Raccoon went up into the mud, sinking in it mid-leg deep, as the marks
on his fur show to this day. And the wind began to rise, sweeping up
the four great arroyos, and the mud was dried away. Then the men and
the animals began to come up from their cave, and their coming up
required several days. First came the Navajos, and no sooner had they
reached the surface then they commenced gaming at _patole_, their
favorite game. Then came the Pueblos and other Indians who crop their
hair and build houses. Lastly came the white people, who started off
at once for the rising sun and were lost sight of for many winters.
While these nations lived underground they all spake one tongue; but
with the light of day and the level of earth, came many languages. The
earth was at this time very small and the light was quite as scanty as
it had been down below; for there was as yet no heaven, nor sun, nor
moon, nor stars. So another council of the ancients was held and a
committee of their number appointed to manufacture these luminaries. A
large house or workshop was erected; and when the sun and moon were
ready, they were entrusted to the direction and guidance of the two
dumb fluters already mentioned. The one who got charge of the sun came
very near, through his clumsiness in his new office, to making a
Phaethon of himself and setting fire to the earth. The old men,
however, either more lenient than Zeus or lacking his thunder,
contented themselves with forcing the offender back by puffing the
smoke of their pipes into his face. Since then the increasing size of
the earth has four times rendered it necessary that he should be put
back, and his course farther removed from the world and from the
subterranean cave to which he nightly retires with the great light. At
night also the other dumb man issues from this cave, bearing the moon
under his arm, and lighting up such part of the world as he can. Next
the old men set to work to make the heavens, intending to broider in
the stars in beautiful patterns, of bears, birds, and such things. But
just as they had made a beginning a prairie-wolf rushed in, and crying
out: Why all this trouble and embroidery? scattered the pile of stars
over all the floor of heaven, just as they still lie.
When now the world and its firmament had been finished, the old men
prepared two earthen _tinages_ or water-jars, and having decorated one
with bright colors, filled it with trifles; while the other was left
plain on the outside, but filled within with flocks and herds and
riches of all kinds. These jars being covered and presented to the
Navajos and Pueblos, the former chose the gaudy but paltry jar; while
the Pueblos received the plain and rich vessel; each nation showing in
its choice traits which characterize it to this day. Next there arose
among the Navajos a great gambler, who went on winning the goods and
the persons of his opponents till he had won the whole tribe. Upon
this, one of the old men became indignant, set the gambler on his
bowstring and shot him off into space--an unfortunate proceeding, for
the fellow returned in a short time with firearms and the Spaniards.
Let me conclude by telling how the Navajos came by the seed they now
cultivate: All the wise men being one day assembled, a turkey-hen came
flying from the direction of the morning star, and shook from her
feathers an ear of blue corn into the midst of the company; and in
subsequent visits brought all the other seeds they possess.[II-42]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: ORIGIN-MYTHS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA.]
Of some tribes, we do not know that they possess any other ideas of
their origin than the name of their first ancestor, or the name of a
creator or a tradition of his existence.
The Sinaloas, from Culiacan north to the Yaqui River, have dances in
honor of a certain Viriseva, the mother of the first man. This first
man, who was her son, and called Vairubi, they hold in like
esteem.[II-43] The Cochimis, of Lower California, amid an apparent
multiplicity of gods, say there is in reality only one, who created
heaven, earth, plants, animals, and man.[II-44] The Pericues, also of
Lower California, call the creator Niparaya, and say that the heavens
are his dwelling-place. A sect of the same tribe add that the stars
are made of metal, and are the work of a certain Purutabui; while the
moon has been made by one Cucunumic.[II-45]
The nations of Los Angeles County, California, believe that their one
god, Quaoar, came down from heaven; and, after reducing chaos to
order, put the world on the back of seven giants. He then created the
lower animals, and lastly a man and a woman. These were made
separately out of earth and called, the man Tobohar, and the woman
Pabavit.[II-46]
Hugo Reid, to whom we are mainly indebted for the mythology of
Southern California, and who is an excellent authority, inasmuch as
his wife was an Indian woman of that country, besides the preceding
gives us another and different tradition on the same subject: Two
great Beings made the world, filled it with grass and trees, and gave
form, life, and motion to the various animals that people land and
sea. When this work was done, the elder Creator went up to heaven and
left his brother alone on the earth. The solitary god left below, made
to himself men-children, that he should not be utterly companionless.
Fortunately also, about this time, the moon came to that neighborhood;
she was very fair in her delicate beauty, very kind-hearted, and she
filled the place of a mother to the men-children that the god had
created. She watched over them, and guarded them from all evil things
of the night, standing at the door of their lodge. The children grew
up very happily, laying great store by the love with which their
guardians regarded them; but there came a day when their heart
saddened, in which they began to notice that neither their god-creator
nor their moon foster-mother gave them any longer undivided affection
and care, but that instead, the two great ones seemed to waste much
precious love upon each other. The tall god began to steal out of
their lodge at dusk, and spend the night watches in the company of the
white-haired moon, who, on the other hand, did not seem on these
occasions to pay such absorbing attention to her sentinel duty as at
other times. The children grew sad at this, and bitter at the heart
with a boyish jealousy. But worse was yet to come: one night they were
awakened by a querulous wailing in their lodge, and the earliest dawn
showed them a strange thing, which they afterwards came to know was a
new-born infant, lying in the doorway. The god and the moon had eloped
together; their Great One had returned to his place beyond the ether,
and that he might not be separated from his paramour, he had appointed
her at the same time a lodge in the great firmament; where she may yet
be seen, with her gauzy robe and shining silver hair, treading
celestial paths. The child left on the earth was a girl. She grew up
very soft, very bright, very beautiful, like her mother; but like her
mother also, O so fickle and frail! She was the first of woman-kind,
from her are all other women descended, and from the moon; and as the
moon changes so they all change, say the philosophers of Los
Angeles.[II-47]
[Sidenote: CENTRAL-CALIFORNIAN CREATION-MYTHS.]
A much more prosaic and materialistic origin is that accorded to the
moon in the traditions of the Gallinomeros of Central California.[II-48]
In the beginning, they say, there was no light, but a thick darkness
covered all the earth. Man stumbled blindly against man and against
the animals, the birds clashed together in the air, and confusion
reigned everywhere. The Hawk happening by chance to fly into the face
of the Coyote, there followed mutual apologies and afterwards a long
discussion on the emergency of the situation. Determined to make some
effort toward abating the public evil, the two set about a remedy. The
Coyote gathered a great heap of tules, rolled them into a ball, and
gave it to the Hawk, together with some pieces of flint. Gathering all
together as well as he could, the Hawk flew straight up into the sky,
where he struck fire with the flints, lit his ball of reeds, and left
it there, whirling along all in a fierce red glow as it continues to
the present; for it is the sun. In the same way the moon was made, but
as the tules of which it was constructed were rather damp, its light
has been always somewhat uncertain and feeble.[II-49]
In northern California, we find the Mattoles,[II-50] who connect a
tradition of a destructive flood with Taylor Peak, a mountain in their
locality, on which they say their forefathers took refuge. As to the
creation, they teach that a certain Big Man began by making the naked
earth, silent and bleak, with nothing of plant or animal thereon, save
one Indian, who roamed about in a wofully hungry and desolate state.
Suddenly there rose a terrible whirlwind, the air grew dark and thick
with dust and drifting sand, and the Indian fell upon his face in sore
dread. Then there came a great calm, and the man rose and looked, and
lo, all the earth was perfect and peopled; the grass and the trees
were green on every plain and hill; the beasts of the fields, the
fowls of the air, the creeping things, the things that swim, moved
everywhere in his sight. There is a limit set to the number of the
animals, which is this: only a certain number of animal spirits are in
existence; when one beast dies, his spirit immediately takes up its
abode in another body, so that the whole number of animals is always
the same, and the original spirits move in an endless circle of earthy
immortality.[II-51]
[Sidenote: THE COYOTE OF THE CALIFORNIANS.]
We pass now to a train of myths in which the Coyote again appears,
figuring in many important and somewhat mystical rôles--figuring in
fact as the great Somebody of many tribes. To him, though
involuntarily as it appears, are owing the fish to be found in Clear
Lake. The story runs that one summer long ago there was a terrible
drought in that region, followed by a plague of grasshoppers. The
Coyote ate a great quantity of these grasshoppers, and drank up the
whole lake to quench his thirst. After this he lay down to sleep off
the effects of his extraordinary repast, and while he slept a man came
up from the south country and thrust him through with a spear. Then
all the water he had drunk flowed back through his wound into the
lake, and with the water the grasshoppers he had eaten; and these
insects became fishes, the same that still swim in Clear Lake.[II-52]
The Californians in most cases describe themselves as originating from
the Coyote, and more remotely, from the very soil they tread. In the
language of Mr. Powers--whose extended personal investigations give
him the right to speak with authority--"All the aboriginal
inhabitants of California, without exception, believe that their first
ancestors were created directly from the earth of their respective
present dwelling-places, and, in very many cases, that these ancestors
were coyotes."[II-53]
The Potoyantes give an ingenious account of the transformation of the
first coyotes into men: There was an age in which no men existed,
nothing but coyotes. When one of these animals died, his body used to
breed a multitude of little animals, much as the carcass of the huge
Ymir, rotting in Ginnunga-gap, bred the maggots that turned to dwarfs.
The little animals of our story were in reality spirits, which, after
crawling about for a time on the dead coyote, and taking all kinds of
shapes, ended by spreading wings and floating off to the moon. This
evidently would not do; the earth was in danger of becoming
depopulated; so the old coyotes took counsel together if perchance
they might devise a remedy. The result was a general order that, for
the time to come, all bodies should be incinerated immediately after
death. Thus originated the custom of burning the dead, a custom still
kept up among these people. We next learn--what indeed might have
been expected of animals of such wisdom and parts--that these
primeval coyotes began by degrees to assume the shape of men. At
first, it is true, with many imperfections; but, a toe, an ear, a
hand, bit by bit, they were gradually builded up into the perfect form
of man looking upward. For one thing they still grieve, however, of
all their lost estate--their tails are gone. An acquired habit of
sitting upright, has utterly erased and destroyed that beautiful
member. Lost is indeed lost, and gone is gone for ever, yet still when
in dance and festival, the Potoyante throws off the weary burden of
hard and utilitarian care, he attaches to himself, as nearly as may be
in the ancient place, an artificial tail, and forgets for a happy hour
the degeneracy of the present in simulating the glory of the past.[II-54]
The Californians tell again of a great flood, or at least of a time
when the whole country, with the exception of Mount Diablo and Reed
Peak, was covered with water. There was a Coyote on the peak, the only
living thing the wide world over, and there was a single feather
tossing about on the rippled water. The Coyote was looking at the
feather, and even as he looked, flesh and bones and other feathers,
came and joined themselves to the first, and became an Eagle. There
was a stir on the water, a rush of broad pinions, and before the
widening circles reached the island-hill, the bird stood beside the
astonished Coyote. The two came soon to be acquainted and to be good
friends, and they made occasional excursions together to the other
hill, the Eagle flying leisurely overhead while the Coyote swam. After
a time they began to feel lonely, so they created men; and as the men
multiplied the waters abated, till the dry land came to be much as it
is at present.
[Sidenote: HOW THE GOLDEN GATE WAS OPENED.]
Now, also, the Sacramento River and the San Joaquin began to find
their way into the Pacific, through the mountains which, up to this
time, had stretched across the mouth of San Francisco Bay. No Poseidon
clove the hills with his trident, as when the pleasant vale of Tempe
was formed, but a strong earthquake tore the rock apart and opened
the Golden Gate between the waters within and those without. Before
this there had existed only two outlets for the drainage of the whole
country; one was the Russian River, and the other the San Juan.[II-55]
The natives in the vicinity of Lake Tahoe, ascribe its origin to a
great natural convulsion. There was a time, they say, when their tribe
possessed the whole earth, and were strong, numerous, and rich; but a
day came in which a people rose up stronger than they, and defeated
and enslaved them. Afterwards the Great Spirit sent an immense wave
across the continent from the sea, and this wave engulfed both the
oppressors and the oppressed, all but a very small remnant. Then the
taskmasters made the remaining people raise up a great temple, so that
they, of the ruling caste, should have a refuge in case of another
flood, and on the top of this temple the masters worshiped a column of
perpetual fire.