To these plants the modern Creeks add, as a fifteenth one, the
pā′ssa; cf. below.
Then another singular mixture is prepared, of which the ingredients
must have been of symbolic significance: Old maize cobs and pine burs
are placed in a pot and burned to ashes. Four girls below the age of
puberty bring ashes from home, put them in the pot, and stir up all
together, after which the men mix white clay with water in two pans.
One pan of the wet clay and another of the ashes are brought to the
míko's cabin, the other two to that of the warriors, who rub
themselves with the contents of both. Two men appointed to that office
then bring flowers of "old man's tobacco," ísti atchúli pákpagi,
prepared on the first day of the busk, in a pan to the míko's cabin,
and a particle of it is given to every person present. Upon this the
míko and his councillors walk four times around the burning logs,
throwing some of the "old man's tobacco" into the fire each time they
face the east, and then stop while facing the west. The warriors then
repeat the same ceremony.
At the míko's cabin a cane having two white feathers on its end is
stuck out. At the moment when the sun sets, a man of the fish gens
takes it down, and walks, followed by all spectators, toward the
river. Having gone half way, he utters the death-whoop, and repeats it
four times before he reaches the water's edge. After the crowd has
thickly congregated at the bank, each person places a grain of "old
man's tobacco" on the head and others in each ear. Then, at a signal
repeated four times, they throw some of it into the river, and every
man, at a like signal, plunges into the water, to pick up four stones
from the bottom. With these they cross themselves on their breasts
four times, each time throwing one of the stones back into the river
and uttering the death-whoop. Then they wash themselves, take up the
cane with the feathers, return to the great house, where they stick it
up, then walk through the town visiting.
The mad dance, opánga hádsho, is performed after night-fall, and this
terminates the long ceremony.
The celebration of the púskita had a favorable influence upon the
minds of the people, for it was a signal of amnesty, absolving the
Indian of all crimes, murder excepted, and seemed to bury guilt itself
in oblivion. All former quarrels and hatred were forgotten and man
restored to himself and to the community. Indians renewing past
quarrels after this solemn festival, were severely reprimanded by
others. This change of mind was symbolized by the custom of the women
of breaking to pieces all the household utensils of the past year, and
replacing them by new ones; the men refitted all their property so as
to look new, and it was considered extremely disgraceful, even for the
most indigent, to eat any of the new maize before the annual busk
(Sketch, pp. 75-78).[118]
[Footnote 118: For further particulars of the medicine-plants,
see the items in the Notes and in the Creek Glossary.]
* * * * *
The foregoing sketch would be incomplete without the addition of
another account of a four days' puskita, which C. Swan witnessed at
Odshi-apófa, near the confluence of the Coosa and Tallapoosa rivers;
it explains and amplifies many of the incidents related by Hawkins.
The account inserted in Swan's article (Schoolcraft, Indians V, 267.
268) is signed "Anthony Alex. M'Gillivray," who was then a chief of
the nation, and related by marriage to Milfort. We gather from his
statements, that at Odshi-apófa or "Hickory Ground," which is a
_white_ town also, the "priest, or fire-maker of the town" had the
privilege of determining the days of the busk, and that in doing so he
was led by the ripening of the maize-crop and by the growth of the
cassine-shrub. At the break of the _first_ day he went to the square,
unattended by others, dressed in _white_ leather moccasins and
stockings, with a _white_ dressed deer-skin over his shoulders, and
produced there the new fire, by the friction of two dry pieces of
wood. When the spark was blazing up, four young men entered the area
at the openings of its four corners, each holding a stick of wood;
they approached the new fire with high reverence, and placed the ends
of their sticks to it "in a very formal manner." Then four other young
men came forward in the same manner, each holding an ear of the
newly-ripened Indian corn, which the conjurer took from them and with
formalities threw into the fire. Then four other men entered the
square in the same manner, carrying branches of the new cassine, some
of which the priest threw into the fire, the rest being immediately
parched and cooked for ceremonial use. The mysterious jargon which he
muttered during this ceremonial act was supposed to form a
conversation with the great "master of breath."
The male population having in the meantime gathered in the cabins, the
prepared black drink is served to them, and sparks of the new fire are
carried and left outside the buildings for public use. The women bring
it to their homes, which they have cleaned and decorated the day
before for the occasion by extinguishing the old fires and removing
their ashes throughout the town. They are forbidden to step into the
square, but dance with the children on its outside. On the _second_
day the men take their war-physic, a decoction of the button-snake
root, in such quantities as would produce strong spasmodic effects.
The _third_ day is spent by the older men in the square, in taking
black drink, etc., by the young men in hunting or fishing for the last
day of the festival. The females pass the first three days in bathing,
and it is unlawful for the males to touch any of them even with the
tip of the finger. Both sexes are compelled to abstain rigidly from
any food, especially from _salt_. The _fourth_ day all classes
congregate in the "great house" promiscuously; the game killed on the
previous day is given to the public, and the women are cooking the
provisions brought in from all sides, over the new fire. After this
convivial day the evening dances conclude the annual festivity. Any
provisions left over are given to the "fire-maker."
Less circumstantial descriptions of this curious ceremony, which is
frequently called from analogy the "green corn dance," are contained
in Adair's History, Argument VIII, in Bartram, Travels, pp. 507. 508,
in Milfort and many other writers. It appears from all that the busk
is not a solstitial celebration, but a rejoicing over the first fruits
of the year. The new year begins with the busk, which is celebrated in
August or late in July. Every town celebrated its busk at a period
independent from that of the other towns, whenever their crops had
come to maturity.
Religious ideas were connected with the festival, for the benefits
imparted to mankind by the new fruits were the gifts of the sun, which
was symbolized by the fire burning in the centre of the square. The
new fire meant the new life, physical and moral, which had to begin
with the new year. Everything had to be new or renewed; even the
garments worn heretofore were given to the flames. The pardon granted
to offenders gave them a chance to begin a new and better course of
life. It was unlawful to pass between the fire in the area and the
rising sun, for this would have interrupted the mystic communication
existing between the two. The rigorous fasting observed also fitted
the people to prepare for a new moral life, and made them more
receptive for the supernatural; the convivial scene which closed the
busk typified the idea that all men, whether low or high, are born
brethren. The black drink was the symbol of purification from
wickedness, of prowess in war and of friendship and hospitality.
Although the ritual of the busk differed in every Creek tribe, many
analogies can be traced with well-known customs among the Aztec and
Maya nations, whose "unlucky five days" at the year's close equally
terminated with rejoicings, as the precursors of a new life.