_From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis_
When the plant is cut from its root it is turned over and trimmed. For the
latter the women employ the hatchet-like knife, cutting off the outer ends
of the leaves. The plant now resembles a large head of cabbage and weighs
from five to twenty pounds. As fast as the plants are cut the women place
them in the burden baskets and carry them to the pit, load after load. To
make it possible for each woman to identify her mescal after the cooking,
each piece is branded with a distinguishing device--a property mark. The
gathering of the mescal continues for several days, an area covering a
radius of perhaps two miles being stripped of its budding plants, for such
only are harvested.
The pit being ready and the mescal gathered, the work of cooking
commences. Just at daylight the old woman in charge takes her place at the
rim of the pit and prays that the cooking may be successful and that the
people may be in condition to partake of the food. In igniting the fuel
the old-fashioned fire-sticks must be employed; to use matches would bring
ill fortune. When the fuel in the pit becomes a blazing mass the women go
to prepare breakfast, but are soon at work again gathering brush and grass
to cover the mescal. Within four hours the fuel is entirely consumed and
the red-hot stones have settled to the bottom of the pit. When it is
certain that no fuel remains unburned, as even a small amount of smoke
would spoil the quality of the mescal, the head-woman says, "It is good,"
and with great eagerness her followers begin to fill the pit. There is
need for haste in throwing in and covering the mescal, as the steam must
be confined to prevent the hot stones from scorching it. The covering
consists of alternate layers of green brush, grass, dry leaves, and
finally a layer of earth, about six inches in thickness. After forty-eight
hours of steaming the seething mass is uncovered and each woman removes
her portion.
The greater part of the product of this cooking is now to be prepared for
winter use by pulling the leaves apart and pounding them into pulp. This
can be kneaded and handled much the same as dough, and while in this
plastic state is formed into large cakes two inches thick and perhaps
three feet long. These are dried in the sun, when they have all the
appearance of large slabs of India rubber, and are easily packed on horses
for the homeward journey.
This dried mescal may be eaten without further preparation, but it is
generally made into a gruel by mixing with water. Alone it is very sweet,
and berries of the aromatic sumac, and frequently walnuts, are crushed
with it to give it flavor.
The fruit of the opuntia, or prickly-pear cactus, which the Apache call
_hush_, is much used for food both in its fresh state and dried. It is
picked from the plant with pincers of split sticks. When the _tu{~COMBINING BREVE~}tza_, or
burden basket, is filled its contents are poured on the ground and the
fruit is brushed about with a small grass besom until the spines are worn
off. In preparing _hush_ the women grind seeds and pulp into a mass, thus
retaining the full food value of the fruit.
Manzanita, pinon nuts, juniper berries, acorns of the scrub oak, fruit of
the yucca, wild potatoes, wild onions, mesquite pods, and many varieties
of fungi also furnish food. As a drink the Apache make a tea from the
green or dried inner bark of the pinon.
The intoxicant and curse of their lives is _tulapai_, or _tizwin_ as it is
sometimes called. _Tulapai_ means "muddy or gray water." It is, in fact, a
yeast beer. In preparing it corn is first soaked in water. If it be winter
time the wet corn is placed under a sleeping blanket until the warmth of
the body causes it to sprout; if summer, it is deposited in a shallow
hole, covered with a wet blanket, and left until the sprouts appear, when
it is ground to pulp on a metate. Water and roots are added, and the
mixture is boiled and strained to remove the coarser roots and sprouts. At
this stage the liquid has the consistency of thin cream soup. It is now
set aside for twenty-four hours to cool and ferment, when it is fit for
drinking. As the _tulapai_ will spoil in twelve hours it must be drunk
quickly. Used in moderation it is not a bad beverage, but by no means a
pleasant one to the civilized palate. The Apache, however, knows no
moderation in his _tulapai_ drinking. He sometimes fasts for a day and
then drinks great quantities of it,--often a gallon or two--when for a time
he becomes a savage indeed.
[Illustration: Filling the Pit - Apache]