81. It has been my lot to see portions of these ceremonies at various
times. The most complete view I had of them was during a visit made to a
place called Niqotlizi (Hard Earth), some twenty miles northwest from
Fort Wingate, New Mexico, and just within the southern boundary of the
Navajo Reservation. This was the only occasion when I obtained full
access to the medicine lodge on the later days of the ceremonies and had
an opportunity of observing the wonderful pictures on sand which are
illustrated in color in the accompanying plates.
82. On October 21, 1881, when I arrived at this place, the patient for
whose benefit the rites were celebrated and a few of her immediate
relations were the only people encamped here. They occupied a single
temporary shelter of brushwood, within a few paces of which I had a rude
shelter erected for my own accommodation. The patient was a middleaged
woman, who apparently suffered from no ailment whatever; she was stout,
ruddy, cheerful, and did her full share of the household work every day;
yet she was about to give away for these ceremonies sheep, horses, and
other goods to the value of perhaps two hundred dollars. No ceremonies
whatever were in progress when I came. Everything, so the Indians said,
was waiting for the qaçà li. (Paragraph 2.) Some men were engaged in
building a corral for the sheep that were to be slaughtered for the
guests, and some old women were grinding corn to feast the men who were
to work in the medicine lodge, which had been completed six days before.
83. This lodge was a simple conical structure of large, partly hewed
piñon logs, set on end and inclined at an angle of about forty-five
degrees, so as to join one another on top, where they formed the apex of
the lodge. The circle of logs was incomplete in the east, where the
openings for the door and the smoke hole were. A passage, or entry,
about five feet high and three feet wide, led from the body of the lodge
to the outer doorway, where some blankets hung as portières. The frame
of logs was covered with sods and loose earth to keep out wind and rain.
Internally, the lodge was eight feet in height under the apex of the
cone and on an average twenty-five feet in diameter at the base. The
diameter was increased at the east (to allow for the entry) and at the
north. The irregularity in the circumference in the north was at first
conjectured to be a mere accident; but in the ceremonies of the first
night its use became apparent as affording a hiding place for the man
dressed in evergreens. (Paragraph 96.)
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. X
MEDICINE LODGE, VIEWED FROM THE SOUTH.]
84. THE FIRST FOUR DAYS' ceremonies in this case had been performed
during the previous year. Such a division of the work is sometimes made,
if more convenient for the patient and his friends, but usually all is
done in nine consecutive days. These first days have less of interest
than the others. Early each morning, before eating, all who desire, men
and women, enter the medicine lodge, where, in a stifling atmosphere,
seated around a fire of dry wood of four different kinds--cedar, big
willow, little willow, and spruce--they take the hot emetic infusion of
fifteen different kinds of plants mixed together. A little sand is
placed in front of each to receive the ejected material. After the
emetic has acted the fire is removed, deposited some paces to the north
of the lodge, and allowed to die out. Each devotee's pile of sand is
then removed (beginning with that of the man who sat in the east and
going round the circle) and deposited, one after another, in a line
north of the sacred fire. Each succeeding day's deposits are placed
farther and farther north in a continuous line. Next all return to the
lodge, which has been allowed to cool; the shaman spits on each some
medicine which has been mixed with hoar-frost and is supposed to cool.
When all have left the lodge, a new fire of ordinary wood is kindled,
and the kethà wns, or sacrificial sticks, appropriate to the day are
made.
85. FIFTH DAY. The chanter did not arrive until the afternoon of October
23. His ceremonies in the medicine lodge began on the morning of the
24th. The forenoon was devoted to the preparation and sacrifice of
certain kethà wns (keçà n)--the sacrificial sticks, to the origin of which
so much of the foregoing myth is devoted--and of sacrificial cigarettes.
About eight o'clock the sick woman entered the medicine lodge, followed
by the chanter. While she sat on the ground, with her limbs extended, he
applied some powdered substance from his medicine bag to the soles of
her feet, to her knees, breasts, shoulders, cheeks, and head, in the
order named, and then threw some of it towards the heavens through the
smoke hole. Before applying it to the head he placed some of it in her
mouth to be swallowed. Then, kneeling on a sheep skin, with her face to
the east, and holding the bag of medicine in her hand, she recited a
prayer, bit by bit, after the chanter. The prayer being finished, she
arose, put some of the medicine into her mouth, some on her head, and
took her seat in the south, while the shaman went on with the
preparation of the sacrifices.
86. An assistant daubed a nice straight branch of cherry with some
moistened herbaceous powder, after which he divided the branch into four
pieces with a flint knife. Two of the pieces were each about two inches
long and two each about four inches long. In each of the shorter ones he
made one slight gash and in each of the longer ones two gashes. The
sticks were then painted, a shred of yucca leaf being used for the
brush, with rings of black, red, and white, disposed in a different
order on each stick. The two cigarettes were made by filling sections of
some hollow stem with a mixture of some pulverized plants. Such
cigarettes are intended, as the prayers indicate, to be smoked by the
gods. (Paragraph 88.)
87. While the assistants were painting the sticks and making the
cigarettes the old chanter placed on a sheep skin, spread on the floor
woolly side down, other things pertaining to the sacrifice: five bundles
of assorted feathers, five small pieces of cotton sheeting to wrap the
sacrifices in, and two round flat stones, each about four inches in
diameter. The upper surfaces of these he painted, one blue and one
black, and he bordered each with a stripe of red. When the kethà wns and
cigarettes were ready, the qaçà li distributed them along with the
bunches of plumes, on the five pieces of cotton cloth, which were then
rolled up around their contents, making five bundles of sacrifices. On
the completion of this work there was prayer, song, and rattling; the
medicinal powder was applied to the body of the patient as before
(paragraph 85); two of the little sacrificial bundles were placed in her
right hand, and while she held them she again repeated a prayer,
following again phrase by phrase, or sentence by sentence, the words of
the priest. The latter, when the prayer was ended, took the sacrifices
from her hand and pressed them to different parts of her body in the
order previously observed, beginning with the soles of the feet and
going upwards to the head, but on this occasion touching also the back,
and touching it last. Each time after pressing the sacrifices to her
body he held them up to the smoke hole and blew on them in that
direction a quick puff, as if blowing away some evil influence which the
sacrifices were supposed to draw from her body. Then the three remaining
bundles were put in her hands and the rites observed with the former
bundles were repeated in every respect, including the prayer, which was
followed by singing and rattling. When the song had ceased some of the
assistants took the bundles of sacrifices out of the lodge, no doubt to
bury them according to the method proper for those particular kethà wns.
The round painted stones were also carried out.
88. The prayers which the woman repeated varied but little. They all
sounded nearly alike. The night the shaman arrived he rehearsed some of
these prayers with the woman, at her own hogán, to make her familiar
with them before she repeated them, in the medicine lodge. The prayer
addressed to Dsilyi` Neyáni, when she held in her hand the offering
sacred to him, was as follows:
Reared Within the Mountains!
Lord of the Mountains!
Young Man!
Chieftain!
I have made your sacrifice.
I have prepared a smoke for you.
My feet restore thou for me.
My legs restore thou for me.
My body restore thou for me.
My mind restore thou for me.
My voice restore thou for me.
Restore all for me in beauty.
Make beautiful all that is before me.
Make beautiful all that is behind me.
Make beautiful my words.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty. (Paragraphs 261-4.)
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XI
MEDICINE LODGE, VIEWED FROM THE EAST.]
89. The next part of the ceremonies (or, shall I say, the treatment?)
was a fumigation. The medicine man took from the fire a large glowing
coal, placed it beside the woman, and scattered on it some powdered
substance which instantly gave forth a dense smoke and a strong
fragrance that filled the lodge. The woman held her face over the coal
and inhaled the fumes with deep inspirations. When the smoke no longer
rose the coal was quenched with water and carried out of the lodge by
the chief, Manuelito, probably to be disposed of in some established
manner. Then the woman left the lodge and singing and rattling were
resumed.
90. While the rites just described were in progress some assistants were
busy with other matters. One made, from the spotted skin of a fawn, two
bags in which the akáninilis or couriers were to carry their meal on the
morrow's journey. Another brought in and hung over the doorway a bundle
of dry, withered plants which he had just gathered. Glancing up at them
I recognized the _Gutierrezia_ and the _Bouteloua_. The bundle may have
contained the other plants mentioned in the myth (paragraph 44). They
were hung up there till the next day, to be then used in a manner which
will be described (paragraph 101).
91. The sheepskin on which the sacrifices had been placed was taken away
and a blanket was spread on the ground to receive some more sacred
articles from the bag of the chanter. These were five long notched
wands, some tail feathers of the wild turkey, some small downy feathers
of the eagle, and some native mineral pigments--yellow ocher,
a ferruginous black, and a native blue. With the pigments the assistants
painted the notched wands; with the plumes the chanter trimmed them.
(See Fig. 51 and Plate XI.) Then they were called çobolçà , a word of
obscure etymology, or in¢ia`, which signifies sticking up or standing
erect. They are called in this paper "plumed wands."
92. While some were making the çobolçà others busied themselves
grinding, between stones, large quantities of pigments, coarser than
those referred to above, to be used in making the sand pictures or dry
paintings of the ceremony. They made five colors: black, of charcoal;
white, of white sandstone; red, of red sandstone; yellow, of yellow
sandstone; and "blue," of the black and white, mixed in proper
proportions; of course this was a gray, but it was their only cheap
substitute for the cerulean tint, and, combined with the other colors on
the sanded floor, in the dim light of the lodge, it could not easily be
distinguished from a true blue. It may be remarked in passing that the
Navajo apply to many things which are gray the term they use for blue
(çolÃj); thus the gray fox is called mà ï-çolÃj (blue coyote) and a gray
sheep is called a blue sheep. Yet that they make a distinction between
these colors is, I think, fairly evident from the fact that in painting
small articles, such as kethà wns and masks, they use the more costly
articles of turquoise, malachite, and indigo. These coarse pigments for
the dry paintings were put for convenience on curved pieces of piñon
bark. From time to time, during this and the following days, as the
heaps of colored powder diminished under the hands of the artists, more
stones and charcoal were pulverized to replenish them.
93. About noon they cleared off that portion of the floor of the lodge
which lay west of the fire, and brought, in blankets, a quantity of dry
sand, which they spread out over the cleared portion of the floor in a
layer of the nearly constant depth of three inches. They smoothed the
surface with the broad oaken battens used in weaving. Now for a time all
operations were suspended in the lodge while the chanter went out to
plant the çobolçà , or plumed wands, in front of the medicine lodge, and
to lay beside them the collars of beaver skins and the symbols for wings
which the couriers were to wear next day. (Fig. 51.) These articles, it
was said, were placed outside as a sign to the gods that the holy
pictures were being drawn; but it is not improbable that they were
intended also as a sign to uninitiated mortals. However that may be,
they were taken in as soon as the picture was finished. The great
painting was begun about 1 o'clock p.m., was finished about 3, and was
allowed to remain until the ceremonies at night were concluded. It will
be described later. (Paragraphs 160 et seq.)
[Illustration: FIG. 51. The çobolçà , or plumed wands, as seen from
the door of the medicine lodge.]
94. When the picture was completed food was brought in, and there was a
good deal of eating and sleeping and smoking done. Being informed that
nothing more would be done until after nightfall, I went to my own
shelter, to elaborate some of my more hasty sketches while matters were
still fresh in my mind. At 7 o'clock a messenger came to tell me that
ceremonies were about to be resumed. During my absence the principal
character in the night's performance--a man arrayed in evergreens--had
been dressed.
95. I found, on returning to the lodge, a number of spectators seated
around close to the edge of the apartment. The fire burned in the
center. The sick woman, with some companions, sat in the south. The
qaçà li, with a few assistants who joined him in singing and shaking
rattles, was seated at the north, at the place where the circumference
of the lodge was enlarged. (Paragraph 83.) There was a space about two
feet wide and six feet long between them and the wall, or roof if you
choose so to call it, of the lodge. I was assigned a place in the west.
The sick woman was directed to move from the position she occupied in
the south, and sit, with her face to the east, at the junction of the
two white serpents that cross one another on the picture. (Plate XV.)
96. When she was seated the qaçà li began a song, accompanied by the
usual rattling and drumming. At a certain part of the song the chanter
was seen to make a slight signal with his drumstick, a rapid stroke to
the rear, when instantly a mass of animate evergreens--a moving tree, it
seemed--sprang out from the space behind the singers and rushed towards
the patient. A terrifying yell from the spectators greeted the
apparition, when the man in green, acting as if frightened by the noise,
retreated as quickly as he came, and in a moment nothing could be seen
in the space behind the singers but the shifting shadows cast by the
fire. He was so thoroughly covered with spruce twigs that nothing of his
form save his toes could be distinguished when he rushed out in the full
glare of the fire. This scene was repeated three times, at due
intervals.
97. Some time after the third repetition, the chanter arose, without
interrupting his song, and proceeded to erase the picture with his
rattle. He began with the mountain in the west (paragraph 162), which he
completely leveled; next in order he erased the track of the bear; next,
the hole in the center; and then, one by one, the various other figures,
ending with the serpents on the outside. In erasing the serpents, he
began with the figures in the east and followed the apparent course of
the sun, ending with the figures in the north. When the picture was
completely obliterated, the sand on which it had been drawn was
collected, put in a blanket, and carried out of doors, to be thrown
away.
98. Then the sick woman was lifted by two other women and laid on her
side where the picture had been, with her face to the east. While she
lay there, the medicine man, amid much singing, walked around her,
inscribed on the earth at her feet a straight line with his finger and
erased it with his foot, inscribed at her head a cross and rubbed it out
in the same manner, traced radiating lines in all directions from her
body and obliterated them, gave her a light massage, whistled over her
from head to foot and all around her, and whistled towards the smoke
hole, as if whistling something away. These acts were performed in the
order in which they are recorded. His last operation on her was a severe
massage, in which he kneaded every part of her body forcibly and pulled
her joints hard, whereat she groaned and made demonstrations of
suffering. This concluded, she rose. A blanket was spread on the ground
on the north of the fire, near where the man in evergreens was
concealed. At the last appearance of the man in evergreens the woman
fell back apparently paralyzed and suffering from difficulty of
breathing, all of which was probably feigned, but was supposed to be a
sign that the right remedy or ceremony for her ailment had been found
and that none other need be tried. The medicine man now proceeded to
restore her to consciousness by drawing zigzag lines from her body east
and west and straight lines north and south, like their symbols for the
chain and sheet lightnings, by stepping over her in different
directions, and by rattling. When she had apparently recovered, he
pressed the plumed wands and the symbols for wings to different parts of
her body, in the order and with the ceremonies described when referring
to previous application made to her body.
99. There were no more ceremonies that night. I remained in the medicine
lodge until it was quite late. The men occupied their time in singing,
rattling, gambling, and smoking. After a while some grew weary and lay
down to sleep. Being repeatedly assured that nothing more would happen
until the whistle sounded in the morning, I left the lodge to roll
myself in my blankets. Yet frequently during the night, fearing I might
have been deceived, I stealthily arose and visited the medicine lodge,
only to find all slumbering soundly.
100. SIXTH DAY. At five in the morning (Saturday, October 25) the
whistle sounded and I hastened to the medicine lodge. There was much to
be done; the couriers were to be dressed and sent on their way, and a
large picture was to be painted; so the work had to begin early.
[Illustration: FIG. 52. Akáninili ready for the journey.]
101. The first thing done was to burn to charcoal the bundle of plants
which had been gathered on the previous morning and hung over the door
of the lodge inside. (Paragraph 90.) The charcoal was used in painting
the limbs of the akáninilis or couriers. A basin of water containing
soap root or amolë (the root of _Yucca baccata_, and other species of
yucca) was brought in, and after the medicine man had dabbed them with a
little of the suds the akáninilis-elect washed themselves with it from
head to foot, cleaning their hair well. When the bath was done, they
were dabbed by the qaçà li with some other mixture contained in a
waterproof wicker basin and were made to inhale the fragrant fumes of
some vegetable powder scattered on a live coal, which, as usual, was
"put out," in a double sense, when the fumigation was over. Then the
young men were dressed and adorned to look like Dsilyi` Neyáni after his
toilet in the house of the butterflies. (Paragraph 44.) Their legs and
forearms were painted black, to represent the storm cloud. The outer
aspects of these members were decorated with white zigzag streaks, to
indicate the white lightning. Their faces were painted partly white and
small white spots were scattered over their bodies. Downy eagle feathers
were fastened to their hair; necklaces of shell and coral were hung
around their necks, and over these were laid collars of beaver skin,
with whistles attached, which had lain in front of the lodge the day
before, near the plumed wands. (Paragraph 93, Fig. 51.) Small objects to
represent wings were tied to their arms. Each was given one of the fawn
skin bags (paragraph 90) with corn meal in it. In the hand of the
akáninili who was to go to the south was placed one of the çobolçà , or
plumed wands, whose stem was painted black, the color of the north, as a
sign to all he might meet that he was a duly authorized messenger from a
medicine lodge in the north. In the hand of the other akáninili was
placed a blue shafted wand, to show that he came from the south. Thus
equipped they were all ready for the journey. (Fig. 52.)
102. The chanter gave them his messages, telling them where to go, what
places they were to visit, what other chanters they were to see, what
dancers they were to invite, and what gifts they were authorized to
offer to the visiting performers for their trouble. Having given these
special instructions, he closed with the general instructions, which are
always given to the akáninili, as follows:
These [pointing to the eagle feathers on the head] will make for you a
means of rising as you progress.
These [pointing to the wing symbols on the arm] will bear you onward.
This [pointing to the collar of beaver skin] will be a means of
recognition for you. For this reason it hangs around your neck.
Sprinkle meal across a little valley, across a big arroyo.
Across the roots of a tree sprinkle meal and then you may step over.
Sprinkle meal across a flat rock.
Then the plumed wand. For this purpose you carry it, that they will
recognize you as coming from a holy place.
103. The akáninili on his journey scatters meal before him as directed
in these charges. He also scatters it on the medicine men whom he
visits, and for this reason he is called akáninili, which signifies meal
sprinkler.
104. When the last word of the instructions was uttered, the couriers
departed, one to the north and one to the south. It was not later than
7 o'clock when they left. As soon as they were gone, the work of
painting the picture appropriate to the day was begun. It was much more
elaborate than the painting of the previous day. Although a dozen men
worked on it, it was not finished until two o'clock. About the time it
was done, the akáninili from the south returned. He was carefully
divested of all his ornaments. The white paint was scraped carefully
from his body and preserved in the medicine bags of those who scraped it
off. Then he was led out of the lodge.
105. When the picture was finished, the shaman, having applied pollen in
three places to each god, stuck around it in the ground, at regular
intervals, the three plumed wands which had stood before the door of the
lodge all day and the wand which the akáninili from the south had just
brought back with him. This wand he placed at the south of the picture,
and laid beside it the collar, wings, and plumes which the akáninili had
worn. The fifth, or north, wand was still absent with the courier who
went to the north.
106. All was ready now for the treatment of the sick woman. She was sent
for, and a crier went to the door of the lodge to announce that song and
ceremony were to begin. Accompanied by another woman, she entered,
carrying a basket with corn meal in it. This she sprinkled lightly over
the picture and then handed it to some of the assistants, who finished
the work she had begun by strewing the meal plentifully on the figures.
She sat on the form of the god in the east, facing the door, with her
feet extended, and her companion sat on the figure of the cornstalk in
the southeast. (Plate XVI.) In the mean time the medicine man had made a
cold infusion in an earthen bowl and placed it on the hands of the
rainbow figure (paragraph 169), laying over it a brush or sprinkler made
of feathers, with a handle of colored yarn. When the women were seated,
the chanter dipped his brush in the solution; sprinkled the picture
plentifully; touched each divine figure with the moistened brush in
three places-brow, mouth, and chest; administered the infusion to the
women, in two alternate draughts to each; drained the bowl himself; and
handed it to the bystanders, that they might finish the dregs and let
none of the precious stuff go to waste. Next came the fumigation. The
woman whom we have designated as the companion rose from her seat on the
picture and sat on the ground beside the door. The principal patient
retained her seat on the eastern god. Near each a live coal was laid on
the ground. On the coal a strong scented but rather fragrant mixture was
thrown, and as the fumes arose the women waved them towards their faces
and breathed them in as before. The coal was extinguished and carefully
removed, as on previous occasions. The application of the sacred dust to
the body of the patient followed. The shaman moistened his hands with
saliva and pressed them to the feet of all the gods. Some of the powder,
of course, stuck to his palms. This he applied to the feet of the
patient. Thus he took dust from the knees, abdomens, chests, shoulders,
and heads of the figures and applied it to corresponding parts of the
patient's form, making a strong massage with each application.
107. When the patient had departed many of the spectators advanced to
the picture and gathered the corn pollen (paragraphs 105 and 112), now
rendered doubly sacred, and put it in their medicine bags. Some took
portions of the remaining dust from the figures, after the manner of the
shaman, and applied it to ailing portions of their persons. If the
devotee had disease in his legs, he took dust from the legs of the
figures; if in his head, the dust was taken from the heads of the
figures, and so on.
108. By the time they were all done the picture was badly marred; yet
its general form and some of the details were quite distinguishable.
Then it became the province of the chanter to completely obliterate it.
He began with the white god in the east and took in turn the figures in
the southeast (corn), south, southwest, west, center, northwest, north,
and northeast. Next, the figure of the rainbow was erased from foot to
head, and, on his way, the chanter knocked down, with rather vicious
blows, the plumed wands which stood up around the picture. When he came
to the round figure in the center he dug up a cup which had been buried
there. He erased the picture with a long slender wand and sang in the
meantime, to the accompaniment of the rattling of his assistants,
a plaintive chant in a minor key, which was perhaps the most melodious
Indian song I ever heard. All was over at half past 2 in the afternoon.
109. Later in the day it was announced that the other akáninili was
approaching from the north. He could then be observed about a mile away
in an open plain. As he advanced the sound of his whistle was heard. At
exactly half past 4 he entered the medicine lodge, where the chanter
motioned him to a seat in the south. Singing and rattling were at once
begun and the akáninili was divested of his trappings in the following
order: head plumes, beaver collar, necklace, right wing, left wing,
belt, sash, moccasins. The white paint was removed and preserved as on
the former occasion. He was led out of the lodge, where he was well
washed from head to foot in a hot decoction of the detergent amolë and
dried with corn meal. Two large blood blisters were to be seen on the
inner aspects of his thighs, brought on by the friction of his
breechcloth in running. He said that he had run constantly when not in
sight from our camp, had traveled a long way since morning, and was very
tired. It seems to be the custom with the akáninilis to walk slowly when
near camp and to run when out of sight, probably to follow the mythic
examples of Tlà ¢esçìni and Indsiskà ï. (Paragraph 63.)
110. With the toilet of the akáninili the ceremonies of the day ended.
He returned to the lodge to relate his adventures and get some food.
During the day visitors arrived occasionally from distant camps. In the
afternoon there were several young men present, who busied themselves in
grubbing and clearing the ground where the corral was to be built and
the great dance of the last night was to be held. I remained in the
lodge until it was quite late, and I frequently rose during the night to
see if anything was going on; but the night passed without event, like
the previous one.
111. SEVENTH DAY. The painting of the picture and the treatment of the
sick woman were the only works performed on this day (Sunday,
October 26). The whistle sounded from the lodge at 6 a.m., but already
the plumed wands and the beaver collars had been placed before the door
of the medicine lodge and the sand for the groundwork of the picture had
been brought in. As the picture (Plate XVII) was to be larger than those
which preceded it, the fire was moved quite near to the door; the heated
earth which lay under the fire in its former position was dug up and
replaced with cold earth, probably for the comfort of the artists.
112. The work of the painters was begun soon after 6 a.m. and was not
completed until about 2 p.m. About a dozen men were engaged on it, and
it occupied them, as we have seen, about eight hours. As usual, the
qaçà li did very little of the manual labor; but he constantly watched
the work and frequently criticised and corrected it. When the painting
was done, it became his duty to apply the sacred corn pollen to the
brow, mouth, and chest of each of the gods and to set up the bounding
çobolçà or plumed wands. After this he placed a bowl of water on the
left hand of the white god--the form second from the north--threw into
it some powdered substance to make a cold decoction, and laid the
sprinkler on top of it. (Paragraph 106.)
113. The whistle was blown. The herald announced that all was ready. The
sick woman and her companion entered, and one after the other cast meal
upon the floor. The former took off her moccasins and sat on the ground
near the door while a song was sung. Then she sat on the form of the
white god, her companion sat on the form of the blue god, and the
singing and rattling were resumed. Without interrupting his song the
chanter sprinkled the picture with the infusion, applied the moistened
sprinkler to the breast, head, and brow of each of the gods in the
following order: white, blue, yellow, black, and sat down to finish his
chant. He administered the decoctions to his patient in two draughts, to
her companion in two draughts, to himself (honest physician!) in the
same manner, and gave as before (paragraph 106) the dregs to the
bystanders. He applied the dust from different parts of the divine
figures to the sick woman, in much the same manner as on the previous
day, and while doing this he obliterated the pictures of the little
animals over the head of the white god. The fumigation of both women was
repeated with exactly the same rites as on the second day, and the fumes
had precisely the same odor on this occasion as on that. When the coals
were extinguished and taken out, the chanter said to the women, "kaç"
(now), whereat they arose and left the lodge.
114. As soon as they were gone the work of obliteration began. The
figures of the gods were rubbed out in the usual order (white, blue,
yellow, black, rainbow), the erasure in each case proceeding from foot
to head. The plumed wands fell as before, simultaneously with the
destruction of the rainbow. The sand was carried out at half past
2 o'clock and no further rites were performed during the day.
115. EIGHTH DAY. The picture painted on Monday (October 27) was of a
simple character, and hence did not occupy much time. The work was begun
at 7 a.m. and was finished at 10 a.m. Of the four shorter or interior
arrows (Plate XVIII), that which stands second from the north was
regarded as the arrow of the east and was begun first. On this arrow the
sick woman was placed, sitting with her face to the east, when she came
to be treated and fumigated. The bowl of infusion was laid on the point
of the arrow immediately to her left, regarded as the arrow of the
north. The medicine man put the pollen on the base, on the red cross
lines near the center, and on the white tips. All the ceremonies which
took place between the completion and the obliteration of the picture
(the planting of the five plumed wands, the sprinkling of the picture
with meal, the sprinkling and administration of the infusion, the
application of the colored dust to the person of the patient, the
fumigation of the two women, the whistling, the singing, and rattling)
were essentially the same as those observed on the previous day. In
taking the dust from the picture, however, the shaman applied his hands
only to the bases of the arrows. The ceremony of obliteration was also a
repetition of the rites of the previous day.
[Illustration: FIG. 53. The great wood pile.]
116. The building of the great stack of wood (Fig. 53) which was to
furnish the fire in the center of the corral on the last night went on
simultaneously with the painting of the picture. Both tasks were begun
and ended about the same time. The wood in the big pile was dead, long
seasoned juniper and cedar, fuel of the most inflammable character. The
pile was about twelve feet high and sixty paces in circumference. Large
quantities of this dry wood were also brought and placed outside the
space allotted to the corral, to replenish the fires when needed.
117. In the afternoon there were no ceremonies in the medicine lodge.
The qaçà li and his assistants took a half holiday, and not without
deserving it, for they had wrought well for three days and they had a
long day's work and a long night's work still before them. A large
number of people had by this time assembled, and from time to time more
arrived. Throughout the sparse grove which surrounded us, little
temporary corrals and huts of boughs were going up in every direction.
In more secret spots in the rugged walls of a cañon, about half a mile
from the medicine lodge, other shelters were erected, where visiting
performers were to prepare themselves on the last night. Many young men
were busy in the afternoon cutting down the trees and lopping off the
branches which were to form the great corral (the ilnásjin, the dark
circle of branches) on the next day. Some of the visiting women were
busy grinding meal and attending to different household duties; others
played cards or engaged in the more aboriginal pastime of áz¢ilçil,
a game played with three sticks and forty stones, the latter for
counters.
118. The friends of the sick woman prepared the alkà n, a great corn cake
baked in the earth, the manufacture of which gave evidence of the
antiquity of the process. The batter was mixed in one large hole in the
ground lined with fresh sheepskin. It was baked in another hole in which
a fire had been burning for many hours, until the surrounding earth was
well heated. The fire was removed; the hole lined with corn husks; the
batter ladled in and covered with more cornhusks; hot earth and hot
coals were spread overall. The cake was not dug up until the following
day, and was designed chiefly for the special entertainment of those who
were at work in the medicine lodge.
119. NINTH DAY (UNTIL SUNSET). On Tuesday (October 28) the work in the
lodge consisted in preparing certain properties to be used in the
ceremonies of the night. These were the wands to be used in the first
dance, the kátso-yisçà n or great plumed arrows, and the trees which the
dancers pretended to swallow.
120. The wand of the nahikà ï was made by paring down a straight slender
stick of aromatic sumac, about three feet long, to the general thickness
of less than half an inch, but leaving a head or button at one end.
A ring was fashioned from a transverse slice of some hollow or pithy
plant, so that it would slide freely up and down the slender wand, but
would nob pass over the head. Eagle down was secured to the wooden head
and also to the ring. In the dance (paragraph 129) the eagle down on the
stick is burned off in the fire while the ring is held in the palm of
the hand. When the time comes for the wand to grow white again, as the
name nahikà ï expresses it, the ring is allowed to leave the palm and
slide to the other end of the stick.
121. The great plumed arrows were deceptions somewhat similar in
character to the wands. One-half of the arrow was made of a slender hard
twig of cliff rose; the other half was formed of some pithy suffruticose
herb which I could not determine satisfactorily, as I saw only the cut
sections and was not permitted to handle these. The pith was removed so
as to allow the wooden part to move into the herby part with a
telescopic mechanism. The herbaceous portion was so covered with
feathers that nothing could be seen of its surface. A large stone
arrowhead was attached to the wooden shaft. When the actor pretended to
swallow this he merely held the stone point firmly between his teeth and
forced the upper or plumed shaft down on the lower or wooden shaft. It
was an excellent deception, and presented to the ordinary observer all
the appearance of genuine arrow swallowing.
122. The piñon saplings, which the dancers also pretended to swallow,
had no deceptive arrangement. They were slender little trees trimmed at
the butt into a broad, thin, wedge shaped point, which was carefully
smoothed by rubbing it with sandstone, so that no offensive splinters
should present themselves to the lips of the dancers. The smooth end was
painted red, probably to make the spectators, at night, by the uncertain
firelight, suppose that the dissemblers had torn their throats in their
great efforts. Sometimes the saplings have all their branches removed,
and are then trimmed with cross pieces and circles of evergreen sprays.
In most cases, however, I have seen the sapling used in its natural
condition.
123. As each set of implements was completed there was a ceremony with
singing and rattling, the men who were to use them at night partook of
powdered medicines on their extended tongues, from the hands of the
chanter, and then practiced themselves in the use of the implements.
Although they well knew the deceptive nature of these articles and fully
understood the frauds they were preparing to perpetrate on the public,
these young men seemed to view the whole work with high reverence and
treat it with the greatest seriousness. For instance, when, in the
secrecy of the lodge, they went through the motions of swallowing the
trees they showed indubitable signs of fear: all looked anxious, some
trembled quite perceptibly, and one looked as pale as a live Indian can
look. They probably dreaded the displeasure of the gods if all were not
done well.
124. LAST NIGHT. Just after sunset the old chanter posted himself some
paces to the east of the great woodpile, on the spot where the gate of
the corral was to be, and began a song. Simultaneous with the beginning
of the song was the commencement of the building of the dark circle. All
the young and middleaged men in camp assisted. They dragged the branches
from where they had been cut down in the neighboring woods and put them
in position in the circle with great celerity. The work was all done in
less than an hour, during which time the chanter ceased not for an
instant his song and rattle. When the fence was finished to his
satisfaction he stopped his song and the labors of the workmen ceased
with the sound. When finished the corral averaged about forty paces in
diameter, and the fence was about eight feet high, with an opening left
in the east about ten feet wide.
125. The moment the dark circle of branches was finished it inclosed
sacred ground. Any dog who dared to enter was chased out with shouts and
missiles. The man or woman who came must, on the first occasion, pass
around to the left, i.e., to the south of the great woodpile. No one
was allowed to peep through the fence or look over the edge of if to
witness the ceremonies. That part of the auditorium was reserved for the
spirits of the bears and other ancestral animal gods. No horse might be
led into the inclosure until after sunrise next morning, when the fence
was razed and all became common soil once more.
126. When the night began to fall many of the visitors moved all their
goods into the corral and lighted there a number of small fires close to
the fence, temporarily abandoning their huts and shelters outside. Those
who did not move in left watchers to protect their property; for there
are thieves among the Navajo. The woods around the corral were lighted
up in various directions by the fires of those who had not taken their
property into the great inclosure and of parties who were practicing
dances and shows of an exoteric character.
127. The nocturnal performances of _this_ evening (Tuesday, October 28,
1884) were as meager as any I have seen within the dark circle of
branches. The best show I ever witnessed in the circle was one which
took place at Keam's Cañon, Arizona, on the 5th of November, 1882. For
this reason I will make the notes taken on the latter occasion the basis
of my description of the "corral dance," adding as I proceed such
comments as may be justified by subsequent observation and information.
128. At 8 o'clock a band of musicians which I will call the orchestra
entered, sat down beside one of the small fires in the west, and began
to make various vocal and instrumental noises of a musical character,
which continued with scarcely any interruption until the close of the
dance in the morning. At the moment the music began the great central
fire was lighted, and the conflagration spread so rapidly through the
entire pile that in a few moments it was enveloped in great flames.
A storm of sparks flew upward to the height of a hundred feet or more,
and the descending ashes fell in the corral like a light shower of snow.
The heat was soon so intense that in the remotest parts of the inclosure
it was necessary for one to screen his face when he looked towards the
fire. And now all was ready to test the endurance of the dancers who
must expose, or seem to expose (paragraph 149), their naked breasts to
the torrid glow.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XII
DANCE OF NAHIKÃÃ.]
129. _First dance_ (Plate XII). When the fire gave out its most intense
heat, a warning whistle was heard in the outer darkness, and a dozen
forms, lithe and lean, dressed only in the narrow white breechcloth and
moccasins, and daubed with white earth until they seemed a group of
living marbles, came bounding through the entrance, yelping like wolves
and slowly moving around the fire. As they advanced in single file they
threw their bodies into divers attitudes--some graceful, some strained
and difficult, some menacing. Now they faced the east, now the south,
the west, the north, bearing aloft their slender wands tipped with eagle
down, holding and waving them with surprising effects. Their course
around the fire was to the left, i.e., from the east to the west, by
way of the south, and back again to the east by way of the north,
a course taken by all the dancers of the night, the order never being
reversed. When they had encircled the fire twice they began to thrust
their wands toward it, and it soon became evident that their object was
to burn off the tips of eagle down; but owing to the intensity of the
heat it was difficult to accomplish this, or at least they acted well
the part of striving against such difficulty. One would dash wildly
towards the fire and retreat; another would lie as close to the ground
as a frightened lizard and endeavor to wriggle himself up to the fire;
others sought to catch on their wands the sparks flying in the air. One
approached the flaming mass, suddenly threw himself on his back with his
head to the fire, and swiftly thrust his wand into the flames. Many were
the unsuccessful attempts; but, at length, one by one, they all
succeeded in burning the downy balls from the ends of their wands. As
each accomplished this feat it became his next duty to restore the ball
of down. The mechanism of this trick has been described (paragraph 120),
but the dancer feigned to produce the wonderful result by merely waving
his wand up and down as he continued to run around the fire. When he
succeeded he held his wand up in triumph, yelped, and rushed out of the
corral. The last man pretended to have great difficulty in restoring the
down. When at last he gave his triumphant yell and departed it was ten
minutes to 9. The dance had lasted twenty minutes.
130. In other repetitions of this ceremony the writer has witnessed more
of burlesque than on this occasion. Sometimes the performers have worn
immense false mustaches, exaggerated imitations of spectacles and of
other belongings of their white neighbors. Sometimes the dance has
assumed a character which will not be described in this place
(paragraph 146). It is called nahikà ï-alil. The former word signifies
"it becomes white again" and refers to the reappearance of the eagle
down. The show is said to have been introduced among the Navajo at the
great corral dance mentioned in the myth (paragraphs 69-72) by a tribe
from the south named ¢ildjèhe. It is no essential part of the rites of
the dark circle, yet I have never known it to be omitted, probably
because it is a most suitable dance for the time when the fire is the
hottest.
[Illustration: FIG. 54. Dancer holding up the great plumed arrow.]
[Illustration: FIG. 55. Dancer "swallowing" the great plumed arrow.]
131. _Second dance._ After an interval of three-quarters of an hour, the
dance of the kátso-yisçà n, the great plumed arrow, the potent healing
ceremony of the night, began. There were but two performers. They were
dressed and arrayed much like the akáninili, but they bore no meal bags,
wore no beaver collars, and the parts of their bodies that were not
painted black--legs and forearms--were daubed with white earth. Instead
of the wand of the akáninili, each bore in his hand one of the great
plumed arrows. While they were making the usual circuits around the
fire, the patient (a man on this occasion) was placed sitting on a
buffalo robe in front of the orchestra. They halted before the patient;
each dancer seized his arrow between his thumb and forefinger about
eight inches from the tip, held the arrow up to view, giving a
coyote-like yelp, as if to say, "So far will I swallow it" (Fig. 54),
and then appeared to thrust the arrow, slowly and painfully, down his
throat (Fig. 55) as far as indicated. While the arrows seemed still to
be stuck in their throats, they danced a chassé, right and left, with
short, shuffling steps. Then they withdrew the arrows, and held them up
to view as before, with triumphant yelps, as if to say, "So far have I
swallowed it." Sympathizers in the audience yelped in response. The next
thing to be done was to apply the arrows. One of the dancers advanced to
the patient, and to the soles of the feet of the latter he pressed the
magic weapon with its point to the right, and again with its point to
the left. In a similar manner he treated the knees, hands, abdomen,
back, shoulders, crown, and mouth in the order named, giving three
coyote-like yelps after each application. When the first dancer had
completed the work, the other took his place and went through exactly
the same performance. This finished, the sick man and the buffalo robe
were removed. The bearers of the arrows danced once more around the fire
and departed.
132. The plumed arrow is frequently referred to in the songs of this
rite. It seems to be the most revered implement and the act in which it
appears the most revered alili of the night. All the other shows may be
omitted at will, but the dance of the kátso-yisçà n, it is said, must
never be neglected. I have witnessed other performances where the arrow
swallowers reappeared with their numbers increased to six or eight. The
additional dancers all pretended to swallow arrows, but they did not
apply them to the patient. The origin of this alili is well accounted
for in the myth (paragraphs 47, 55, and 69), and the peculiar
significance of the injunction not to break the arrow is easily
understood when we know how the arrow is made.
133. _Third dance._ At 10 o'clock the sound of the whistle again called
the spectators to attention and a line of twenty-three dancers came in
sight. The one who led the procession bore in his hand a whizzer
(Fig. 56) such as schoolboys use, a stick tied to the end of a string;
this he constantly whirled, producing a sound like that of a rain storm.
After him came one who represented a character, the Yébaka (anglicized,
Yaybaka), from the great nine days' ceremony of the klédji-qaçà l, or
night chant, and lie wore a blue buckskin mask that belongs to the
character referred to. From time to time he gave the peculiar hoot or
call of the YÃ ybichy, "hu`hu`hu`hu" (paragraph 32). After him followed
eight wand bearers. They were dressed like the bearers of the great
plumed arrows; but instead of an arrow each bore a wand made of grass,
cactus, and eagle plumes. The rest of the band were choristers in
ordinary dress. As they were all proceeding round the fire for the
fourth time they halted in the west, the choristers safe and the
standing wand bearers formed a double row of four. Then the Yaybaka
began to hoot, the orchestra to play, the choristers to sing, the
whizzer to make his mimic storm, and the wand bearers to dance. The
latter, keeping perfect time with the orchestra, went through a series
of figures not unlike those of a modern quadrille. In our terpsichorean
nomenclature the "calls" might have thus been given: "Forward and back.
Chassez twice. Face partners. Forward and back. Forward and bow. Forward
and embrace. Forward and wave wands at partners," &c. When several of
these evolutions had been performed in a graceful and orderly manner,
the choristers rose, and all went singing out at the east.
134. Three times more the same band returned. In the third and fourth
acts the wands were exchanged for great piñon poles (eight to ten feet
long), portions of which they pretended to swallow, as their
predecessors had done with the arrows. (Paragraph 48.) That the simple
and devoted Pueblo Indian does actually, in dances of this character,
thrust a stick far down his gullet, to the great danger of health and
even of life, there is little reason to doubt; but the wily Navajo
attempts no such prodigies of deglutition. A careful observation of
their movements on the first occasion convinced me that the stick never
passed below the fauces, and subsequent experience in the medicine lodge
only strengthened the conviction (paragraph 121).
[Illustration: FIG. 56. The whizzer.]
135. The instrument designated above as the whizzer is a thin, flat,
pointed piece of wood, painted black and sparkling with the specular
iron ore which is sprinkled on the surface; three small pieces of
turquoise are inlaid in the wood to represent eyes and mouth. One
whizzer which I examined was nine inches long, one and three-fourths
inches broad, and about a quarter of an inch thick in the thickest part.
(Fig. 56.) To it was attached a string about two feet long, by means of
which the centrifugal motion was imparted to it. It is called by the
Navajo tsÃn-¢e`nÃ`, or groaning stick. It is used among many tribes of
the southwest in their ceremonies. The Navajo chanters say that the
sacred groaning stick may only be made of the wood of a pine tree which
has been struck by lightning.
136. In the _Fourth dance_ there were about thirty choristers, in
ordinary dress, bearing piñon wands; there was a man who shook a rattle,
another who whirled the groaning stick, and there were three principal
dancers, wearing fancy masks and representing characters from the rites
of the klèdji qaçà l or dance of the "Yà ybichy." These three danced a
lively and graceful jig, in perfect time to the music, with many bows,
waving of wands, simultaneous evolutions, and other pretty motions which
might have graced the spectacular drama of a metropolitan theater. Three
times they left the corral for a moment, and returning varied the dance,
and always varied to improve. The wands they bore were large light
frames of reeds adorned with large eagle plumes.
137. After this there was an interval of nearly an hour, which passed
slowly with those in the corral. Some smoked and gossiped; some listened
to the never ceasing din of the orchestra or joined in the chant; some
brought in wood and replenished the waning fires; some, wrapped in their
serapea, stretched themselves on the ground to catch short naps.
138. _Fifth dance._ It was after midnight when the blowing of a hoarse
buffalo horn announced the approach of those who were to perform the
fifth dance, the tcòhanoai alili or sun show. There were twenty-four
choristers and a rattler. There were two character dancers, who were
arrayed, like so many others, in little clothing and much paint. Their
heads and arms were adorned with plumes of the war eagle, their necks
with rich necklaces of genuine coral, their waists with valuable silver
studded belts, and their loins with bright sashes of crimson silk. One
bore on his back a round disk, nine inches in diameter, decorated with
radiating eagle plumes to represent the sun. The other carried a disk,
six and a half inches in diameter, similarly ornamented, to symbolize
the moon. Each bore a skeleton wand of reeds that reminded one of the
frame of a great kite; it was ornamented with pendant eagle plumes that
swayed with every motion of the dancer. While the whole party was
passing round the fire in the usual manner wands were waved and heads
bowed towards the flames. When it stopped in the west the choristers sat
and sang and the rattler stood and rattled, while the bearers of the sun
and the moon danced at a lively rate for just three minutes. Then the
choristers rose and all sang and danced themselves out of sight.
A second performance of this dance came between the first and second
repetitions of the next show.
139. I have recorded one story (but have heard of another) accounting
for the origin of this dance; it is as follows: When Dsilyi` Neyáni
visited the mountain of Bistcà gi, the home of Estsà n ¢igìni, these
divine beings had for ornaments on their walls the sun and the moon.
When the great mythic dance was given they were among the guests. They
brought their wall decorations, and when the time for their alili came,
they wore the sun and the moon on their backs when they danced.
140. The _Sixth dance_, that of the standing arcs, was both picturesque
and ingenious. The principal performers were eight in number, as usual
with scanty clothing. Their hair fell loose and long over back and
shoulders and each bore in front of him, held by both hands, a wooden
arc, ornamented with eagle plumes. The ends of the arc (which was a full
semicircle) showed tufts of piñon twigs, and they were evidently joined
together by a slender string, which was invisible to the audience.
Besides the eight principal actors, there was a rattler, a bearer of the
groaning stick, and a chorus. While all were making the fourth circuit
of the fire, frequent shouts of "Ãòhe! Ãòhe!" (Englished,
Thòhay--"Stand! stand!" or "Stay! stay!") were heard, the significance
of which soon became apparent. When they stopped in the west, the eight
character dancers first went through various quadrille-like figures,
such as were witnessed in the third dance, and then knelt in two rows
that faced one another. At a word from the rattler the man who was
nearest to him (whom I will call No. 1) arose, advanced to the man who
knelt opposite to him (No. 2) with rapid, shuffling steps, and amid a
chorus of "Thòhay! Thòhay!" placed his arc with caution upon the head of
the latter. Although it was held in position by the friction of the
piñon tufts at each ear and by the pressure of the ends of the arc, now
drawn closer by the subtending string, it had the appearance of standing
on the head without material support, and it is probable that many of
the uninitiated believed that only the magic influence of the
oft-repeated word "Thòhay" kept it in position. When the arc was secured
in its place, No. 1 retreated with shuffling steps to his former
position and fell on his knees again. Immediately No. 2 advanced and
placed the arc which he held in his hand on the head of No. 1. Thus each
in turn placed his arc on the head of the one who knelt opposite to him
until all wore their beautiful halo-like headdresses. Then, holding
their heads rigidly erect, lest their arcs should fall, the eight
kneeling figures began a splendid, well timed chant, which was
accentuated by the clapping of hands and joined in by the chorus. When
the chant was done the rattler addressed the arc bearers, warning them
to be careful; so they cautiously arose from their knees and shuffled
with stiffened spines out of the corral, preceded by the choristers.
This dance was repeated after the second performance of the fifth dance.
141. _Seventh dance._ The arc bearers had scarcely disappeared when
another troupe entered the circle, the buffalo horn announcing their
coming. A man with a whizzer led the procession. The choristers, in
ordinary dress, were thirteen in number. The principal dancers were but
two; they wore the usual sash and belt; the uncovered skin was painted
white; they had on long blue woolen stockings of Navajo make and
moccasins. Each bore a slender wand of two triangles of reeds adorned at
the corners with pendant plumes. They saluted the fire as they danced
around it. They halted in the west, where the choristers sat down, and
the two wand bearers danced for three minutes in a lively and graceful
manner, to the music of the whizzer, the rattle, the choristers, and the
drum of the orchestra. These returned twice more, making some variation
in their performance each time. In the second act the rattler brought in
under his arm a basket containing yucca leaves, and a prayer was said to
the sun. It is possible that this dance was but a preliminary part of
the eighth dance, but it must be described as a separate alili.
142. _Eighth dance._ In this there were sixteen performers, in ordinary
Navajo dress. One of these bore the whizzer and led the procession;
another, who came in the center of the line, carried a hewn plank, or
puncheon, about 12 feet long and 4 inches broad, painted with spots and
decorated with tufts of piñon branchlets and with eagle plumes;
immediately behind the bearer of the plank walked a man who had in a
basket an effigy of the sun, formed of a small round mirror and a number
of radiating scarlet plumes. Having walked around the fire as usual, the
whole party gathered in the west in a close circle, which completely
excluded from the sight of the audience the operations of the actors.
Singing, rattling, and cries of "Thòhay!" were heard. In a few minutes
the circle opened and the hewn plank, standing upright on a small Navajo
blanket, without any apparent prop or support, was disclosed to view. At
the base of the plank was the basket holding the figure of the sun.
Singing was continued and so were the uproarious cries of
"Thòhay"--cries anxious, cries appealing, cries commanding--while the
bearer of the rattle stood facing the pole and rattling vigorously at
it. At length, seemingly in obedience to all this clamor, the solar
image left the basket and slowly, falteringly, totteringly, ascended the
plank to within a few inches of the top. Here it stopped a moment and
then descended in the same manner in which it rose. Once more was it
made to rise and set, when the circle of dancers again closed, the
plank, sun, and basket were taken in custody, and the dancers departed.
Taking into consideration the limited knowledge and rude implements of
the originators (for this alili is not of modern origin), this was a
well performed trick. The means used for supporting the pole and pulling
up the sun could not be detected. The dancers formed a semicircle nearly
ten feet distant from the pole and the light of the central fire shone
brightly upon all.
143. _Ninth dance._ It was after 1 o'clock in the morning when the dance
of the hoshkà wn (_Yucca baccata_) began. (Fig. 57. See paragraph 3.)
The ceremony was conducted in the first part by twenty-two persons in
ordinary dress. One bore, exposed to view, a natural root of yucca,
crowned with its cluster of root leaves, which remain green all winter.
The rest bore in their hands wands of piñon. What other properties they
may have had concealed under their blankets the reader will soon be able
to conjecture. On their third journey around the fire they halted in the
west and formed a close circle for the purpose of concealing their
operations, such as was made in the eighth dance. After a minute spent
in singing and many repetitions of "Thòhay," the circle opened,
disclosing to our view the yucca root planted in the sand. Again the
circle closed; again the song, the rattle, and the chorus of "Thòhay"
were heard, and when the circle was opened the second time an excellent
counterfeit of the small budding flower stalk was seen amid the fascicle
of leaves. A third time the dancers formed their ring of occultation;
after the song and din had continued for a few seconds the circle parted
for the third time, when, all out of season, the great panicle of creamy
yucca flowers gleamed in the firelight. The previous transformations of
the yucca had been greeted with approving shouts and laughter; the
blossoms were hailed with storms of applause. For the fourth and last
time the circle closed, and when again it opened the blossoms had
disappeared and the great, dark green fruit hung in abundance from the
pedicels. When the last transformation was completed the dancers went
once more around the fire and departed, leaving the fruitful yucca
behind them.
[Illustration: FIG. 57. Yucca baccata.]
144. In a moment after they had disappeared the form of one personating
an aged, stupid, short sighted, decrepit man was seen to emerge slowly
from among the crowd of spectators in the east. He was dressed in an old
and woefully ragged suit and wore a high, pointed hat. His face was
whitened and he bore a short, crooked, wooden bow and a few crooked, ill
made arrows. His mere appearance provoked the "stoic" audience to
screams of laughter, and his subsequent "low comedy business," which
excelled much that I have seen on the civilized stage, failed not to
meet with uproarious demonstrations of approval. Slowly advancing as he
enacted his part, he in time reached the place where the yucca stood,
and, in his imbecile totterings, he at length stumbled on the plant and
pretended to have his flesh lacerated by the sharp leaves. He gave a
tremulous cry of pain, rubbed saliva on the part supposed to be wounded,
and muttered his complaints in a weak and shaking voice. He pretended
then to seek for the plant, and was three times wounded in his efforts
to find it. At length, kneeling on the ground, with his face buried in
the leaves, he feigned to discover it, and rejoiced with querulous
extravagance over his success. When he had marked the spot and the way
back to it with an exaggerated burlesque of the Indian methods of doing
these things, he went off to find his "old woman" and bring her to pick
the fruit. Soon he returned with a tall, stalwart man, dressed to
represent a hideous, absurd-looking old granny. The latter acted his
part throughout the rest of the drama with a skill fully equal to that
of his comrade.
145. There were scenes in this drama which may not be told in this
connection. It will suffice to say here that when the yucca fruit was
picked and put in the basket the old man helped the "woman" to shoulder
her load and the pair left the corral. The hackà n-inçá` does not
invariably appear in the corral dance. I have attended one ceremony
where it was omitted. I have heard two descriptions of the dance which
differed very much from the one given above.
146. Many facts concerning not only the hackà n inçá`, but other parts of
the mountain chant, have not been allowed to appear in this essay.
Recognized scientists may learn of them by addressing the author through
the Director of the Bureau of Ethnology.
147. _Tenth dance._ At twenty minutes past three an uninteresting
performance called the "bear dance" began. A man entered on all fours;
his face was painted white; he wore around his loins and over his
shoulders pieces of some dark pelt which may have been bear skin, but
looked more like the skin of a black sheep. The fire had now burned low
and the light was dim. He was accompanied by two attendants, one of whom
carried a rattle. He went twice around the ring, imitating the lumbering
gait of the bear. He occasionally made a clumsy lunge sidewise at some
of the spectators, as though he would attack them; but on these
occasions the man with the rattle headed him off and rattling in his
face directed him back to the usual course around the fire. This show
lasted five minutes.
148. The _Eleventh dance_, was the fire dance, or fire play, which was
the most picturesque and startling of all. Some time before the actors
entered, we heard, mingled with the blowing of the buffalo horn, strange
sounds, much like the call of the sand-hill crane; they will, for
convenience, be called trumpeting. These sounds continued to grow louder
and come nearer until they were heard at the opening in the east, and in
a second after, ten men, having no more clothing on than the performers
in the first dance, entered. Every man except the leader bore a long
thick bundle of shredded cedar bark in each hand and one had two extra
bundles on his shoulders for the later use of the leader. The latter
carried four small fagots of the same material in his hands. Four times
they all danced around the fire, waving their bundles of bark towards
it. They halted in the east; the leader advanced towards the central
fire, lighted one of his fagots, and trumpeting loudly threw it to the
east over the fence of the corral. He performed a similar act at the
south, at the west, and at the north; but before the northern brand was
thrown he lighted with it the bark bundles of his comrades. As each
brand disappeared over the fence some of the spectators blew into their
hands and made a motion as if tossing some substance after the departing
flame. When the fascicles were all lighted the whole band began a wild
race around the fire. At first they kept close together and spat upon
one another some substance of supposed medicinal virtue. Soon they
scattered and ran apparently without concert, the rapid racing causing
the brands to throw out long brilliant streamers of flame over the hands
and arms of the dancers. Then they proceeded to apply the brands to
their own nude bodies and to the bodies of their comrades in front of
them, no man ever once turning round; at times the dancer struck his
victim vigorous blows with his flaming wand; again he seized the flame
as if it were a sponge and, keeping close to the one pursued, rubbed the
back of the latter for several moments, as if he were bathing him. In
the mean time the sufferer would perhaps catch up with some one in front
of him and in turn bathe him in flame. At times when a dancer found no
one in front of him he proceeded to sponge his own back, and might keep
this up while making two or three circuits around the fire or until he
caught up with some one else. At each application of the blaze the loud
trumpeting was heard, and it often seemed as if a great flock of cranes
was winging its way overhead southward through the darkness. If a brand
became extinguished it was lighted again in the central fire; but when
it was so far consumed as to be no longer held conveniently in the hand,
the dancer dropped it and rushed, trumpeting, out of the corral. Thus,
one by one, they all departed. When they were gone many of the
spectators came forward, picked up some of the fallen fragments of cedar
bark, lighted them, and bathed their hands in the flames as a charm
against the evil effects of fire.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XIII
FIRE DANCE.]
149. Did these dancers, next day, hide sore and blistered backs under
their serapes? I think not, for I have seen and conversed with some of
the performers immediately after the fire show, and they seemed happy
and had nothing to complain of. Did the medicine they spat on one
another save them? Certainly not, although the Indians claim it is a
true prophylactic against burns and call it azè-sakázi or cold medicine.
But it is probable that the cedar bark ignites at a low temperature, and
more than probable that the coating of white earth with which their
bodies were covered is an excellent non-conductor. However, the thought
that their bodies might have been thus ingeniously protected lessened
little, if any, the effect produced on the spectator. I have seen many
fire scenes on the stage, many acts of fire eating and fire handling by
civilized jugglers, and many fire dances by other Indian tribes, but
nothing quite comparable to this in all its scenic effects.
150. The closing ceremonies I did not witness on this occasion, but I
saw them at subsequent dances. Shortly before sunrise an assistant
passed around the fire four times and sprinkled a little water on the
mass of smoldering embers, while the medicine man chanted the
appropriate song. Later, three gaps were torn in the circle of
branches--one in the south, one in the west, and one in the
north--making, with the original gate in the east, four entrances to the
corral. (See Plate XIV.) Just after sunrise the entire circle of
branches was razed, but the branches were not carried away. The traveler
through the Navajo country often encounters withered remains of these
circles. In the ceremony of October, 1884, the chanter, having another
engagement which was pressing, packed up his sacred utensils and left
soon after sunrise. The patient, it was said, was not permitted to sleep
until after sunset.
151. _Other dances._ In subsequent dances I saw exhibitions which did
not occur in the ceremony of November 5, 1882, just described, and I
have learned of other shows produced on the last night, which I have
never had an opportunity to witness. All the alilis may be modified.
I have rarely seen two performances of the same dance which were just
alike.
152. On two occasions I have witnessed a very pretty dance, in which an
eagle plume was stuck upright in a basket and by means of some well
hidden mechanism caused to dance in good time to the song, the beat of
the drum, and the motions of the single Indian who danced at the same
time; not only this, but the feather followed the motions of the Indian:
if he danced toward the north, the feather leaned to the north while
making its rhythmical motions; if he moved to the south, it bent its
white head in the same direction, and so on. On one occasion it was a
little boy, five years old, son of the chief Manuelito, who danced with
the eagle plume. He was dressed and painted much like the akáninili, or
the arrow swallowers (Figs. 54, 55), on a diminutive scale. The sash of
scarlet velvet around his hips was beautifully trimmed with feathers.
They said he had been several weeks in training for the dance, and he
certainly went through his varied motions with great skill. I have
rarely seen a terpsichorean spectacle that struck my fancy more than
that of the little Indian child and his partner, the eagle plume.
153. It might be thought that the word "thòhay," so often used to make
inanimate objects pay attention, was one of very sacred import. So it
is, no doubt; yet I have seen it broadly burlesqued. It was on the
occasion of the last "chant" which I attended. A number of boys, from
twelve to fifteen years of age they seemed, led by a pleasant looking
old man with a skeptical twinkle in his eye, came into the dark circle.
One of the party carried a deep Indian basket, from the top of which a
number of spruce twigs protruded. They formed what has been designated
as the ring of occultation, and while doing so they shouted and screamed
and puffed the talismanic "thòhay" in a way that left no doubt of their
intention to ridicule. Their extravagant motions added to the
significance of their intonation. When the ring opened the boys sat on
the ground and began to sing and beat a drum. The old man sat at a
distance of about three paces west of the basket. Presently the nose of
a little weasel (the image being probably a stuffed skin) appeared among
the spruce boughs. All the timid, inquiring motions of the little animal
were well mimicked: the nose was thrust forward and pulled back, the
whole head would emerge and retreat, and at rare times the shoulders
would be seen for a moment, to be quickly drawn in among the screening
spruce twigs. All these motions were made in perfect time to the singing
and drumming. The old man who pulled the actuating strings made no
secret of his manipulations. The play was intended for a farce, and as
such the spectators enjoyed it.