pueblos are simple but interesting. The following reception ceremony
of visitors from a distant pueblo not of their own people was noted:
In the progress of the summer dances of Walpi in 1892 I observed the
ceremonial reception of several Zuñis who came over to assist in the
Húmiskatcina. They were formally “received” in the Wikwaliobi kiva by
Íntiwa,[109] Kópeli, Hóñyi, Pauatíwa, and Lésma. Íntiwa gave their
headman a twig of spruce, to which Lésma tied four nakwákwocis.[110]
Íntiwa sprinkled it with sacred meal and laid it in front of the
Zuñis, and finally all smoked together. This was said to be a formal
act of reception.[111]
The reception ceremony of the Pawíkkatcinas when they returned from
Cipaulovi was as follows: At 4 p. m. Pauatíwa’s father, a very old man,
sat on the edge of the mesa looking west and north toward Cipaulovi. He
called my attention to a line of men coming along the trail. When the
line halted on the last rise before the trail ascends to the top of the
mesa we went down to welcome them.
[Illustration: FIG. 47—Helmets, ear of corn, and spruce bough arranged
for reception ceremony.]
Each Katcina placed his helmet in one of two parallel lines arranged
along the trail, and in front of the two lines he laid the spruce bough
which he carried. In front of this pile of spruce boughs an ear of corn
was placed in the trail not far from the helmets. All the Katcinas then
marched around the line in a sinistral circuit, sprinkling sacred meal
upon the masks, corn, and spruce boughs and throwing a pinch along the
trail in advance of the ear of corn. The circuit around the line of
helmets was sinistral, as in all Hopi ceremonials.
Nine old men then formed a circle at the left of the corn and smoked,
sitting in a squatting posture.[112] No one was allowed to go up the
trail before this ceremony was completed, and one who attempted to
do so was warned back. A short address of welcome was spoken by the
priests to the leader of the Katcinas, and at sunset they put on their
masks and marched to the plaza of Sitcomovi. They first danced on the
southern, then on the eastern, and lastly on the western sides of the
plaza, omitting the northern side. The priests sprinkled the Katcinas
with sacred meal, observing the sinistral ceremonial circuit as they
passed around the line. A small spruce tree, upon which nakwákwocis
were tied, had been placed near the middle of the plaza.
The Katcinas and Katcinamanas then adjourned to the kiva, where they
unmasked, placing their helmets in a row and the spruce boughs in the
middle of the kiva.[113] The two priests seated themselves on the
uprise, one on each side of the ladder.
On the following day the dance was continued from sunrise to sunset. In
the afternoon there appeared the Tcúkuwympkiya, Muñ′we (Owl Katcina),
two Tcósbüci, Pü′ükoñhoya (the Little War God), and a Navaho Katcina.
ÁÑAKATCINA
The celebration of the Áñakatcina at Hano, in the Nimán of 1892, gave
me the following additional data to that already mentioned in the
description[114] of the Áña of 1891. These are due in part to the
variations in ceremonial customs, and are not regarded as essentials.
The Hopi Áñakatcina was invited to Hano by Kálakwai, and its public
presentation was identical with that of 1891 and that of the Zuñi
Kókokci. The antics of the gluttons were very much more complicated.
This I ascribe to two causes—the rarity with which Katcinas are
celebrated in Hano, and the great need of rain at the time.
One interesting but highly disgusting part of the show of these priests
was the slaughter of a huge dog and the use of his entrails and blood
in distinguishing one of their number as Másauwûh,[115] the Death god.
The details of this may be had by consultation with the author.
About 4 oclock on the morning of the public dance of the Áña the
participants danced in the Hano plaza, destitute of all clothing or
helmets and accompanied by the clowns, also without masks. This feature
I had not previously observed. After this early dance páhos were
deposited at the shrine situated in the middle of the dance plaza.
As no account of the ceremonial deposit of offerings to the winds has
ever been published, the following observations are given to fill this
gap in our knowledge. Probably the object of the wind offerings is
propitiatory, for high wind, it is believed, blows away the rain, to
produce which is the main object of the observance. Kwálakwa took for
this purpose in a blanket the following objects: Nakwákwocis, native
tobacco, paper bread, píkami (pudding mush), sugar, and peaches. He
deposited a packet containing a pinch of each of these in six shrines
situated at cardinal points, beginning at the east.[116] The Hopi
begin their ceremonial circuit ordinarily at the north, but the Tewa,
it would seem, place their offerings in the following order: East,
northwest, southwest by south, southwest, southeast by east, southeast.
In the interval between two of the dances, while the Katcinas were
unmasked, and had halted under an overhanging rock on the trail a few
feet below Hano, I observed a test of endurance which I had never
before seen. Kópeli, the Snake chief, took a bundle of yucca branches,
and different volunteers from the Katcinas, stepping up to him, first
held out one arm, then the other; Kópeli struck the outstretched limb
with more or less force, and at the conclusion presented his own arm
and naked body for this trying ordeal. The Áñakatcina is illustrated in
figure 40.
COMPARATIVE STUDY OF KATCINA DANCES IN CIBOLA AND TUSAYAN
The published material which can be used as a basis of comparison in
the study of Katcinas in other villages is meager and insufficient.
Even of the nearest pueblo, Zuñi, which has been more studied than many
of the others, and in which Katcina observances closely akin to those
of Tusayan are performed, the published accounts are very limited. In
a general way it seems to me that the Tusayan ceremonials are more
showy and elaborate than those at Zuñi. There is, however, one marked
exception;[117] the powerful war society, called the Priesthood of the
Bow, has more elaborate ceremonials in Zuñi than in Walpi, where this
organization is weak. It is not possible from my limited knowledge of
Zuñi ceremonials to declare that it is less complicated than that of
Tusayan, but I believe that the powerful organization mentioned has had
much to do with many of the differences between the two.
One source of information in regard to the differences and likenesses
between the Zuñi and Hopi ceremonials is the testimony of the chiefs
themselves. This does not hold in regard to modified ceremonials
primarily the same or derived from a common source, and is only
hearsay, not science.
All the Hopi priests say that the Siotü (Zuñis) have no knowledge of
the Tcütcübwimi (Snake-Antelope mysteries). The same chiefs likewise
claim that the Zuñis have no Mamzraúti, Lálakoñti,[118] Wüwütcímti, and
no societies corresponding to the Tátaukyamû, Áaltû, or Kwákwantû.
Although they may not reproduce some of these ceremonials in the form
celebrated by the Hopi, it is not clear to me that some of those which
they observe may not be differentiations of the same ceremony, as I
have shown in my accounts of the women’s dances.[119] There is a marked
similarity in many of the myths, which would seem to imply resemblances
in ritualistic dramatizations of the same.
It is possible to verify historical data and legendary history by a
study of the same ceremony. For instance, the five oldest Tusayan
pueblos of which we have accounts in the earliest records are Awatobi,
Walpi, Micoñinovi, Cuñopavi, and Oraibi.[120] Awatobi was destroyed in
1700, so that but four original communities of the time of Vargas still
remain. It is in these four and at Cipaulovi that the Snake ceremony is
still celebrated, and Sitcomovi and Hano are ascribed by Hopi legends
to a much later time than the first appearance of the Spaniards; their
names do not appear in the early descriptions of the province.
It is a mistaken idea, and one which has led to many misconceptions,
to suppose that what is true of one group of pueblos is true of all.
While in a general way the mythology and ritual of all may be said to
have general resemblances, there is far from an identity between the
ceremonials, for instance, of the Hopi and the Zuñi, or those of the
Rio Grande pueblos and Tusayan. It is not a question of knowing all by
an intimate knowledge of one; but each branch, even individual pueblos,
must be investigated separately before by comparative knowledge we
can obtain an adequate conception of the character of the pueblo
type of mythology and ritual. Moreover, there is evidence that this
difference existed in ancient times, and while the differentiation of
the manners and customs of different pueblos may have been less rapid
in the past than today they were far from being identical. It does
not follow, except in certain limits, that the most primitive pueblos
today show in their survivals a better picture of the character of life
in another pueblo than the existing state of things in the latter. To
reconstruct the probable character of the ancient culture we must trace
similarities by comparative studies.
In a comparative study of the ceremonials of different pueblos, it is
important to decide which are most primitive or nearest the aboriginal
condition and which are least affected by foreign influences. The
purer the present aboriginal culture, the greater worth will it have
in our approximation to a true conception of the primitive pueblo
culture. Many of the Pueblos practice a religious system which may
be rightly called aboriginal, but in some it has been modified by
outside influences. I think no one, for instance, would say that the
present Zuñi custom of burial in a churchyard was not due in part to
the influence of Catholic priests, for Spanish narratives of three and
a half centuries ago are quite explicit in their statement that the
Zuñi burned their dead. If one custom has been changed, how are we
to distinguish the modified from the primitive? It can be shown that
strong influences have been used for the direct purpose of destroying
the Katcina worship. Take, for instance, Zuñi, the least changed
of all the pueblos except those of Tusayan. It is pagan today, and
probably never was profoundly modified by Christianity, but Roman
Catholic fathers, with the avowed determination to Christianize
it, could not have lived there continuously for over a century and
caused the great missions to be built without modifying the religious
customs of the Zuñians. It is said that after the priests were driven
out the Pueblos returned to their ancient practices, but it must be
admitted that no one has yet shown how the pure Katcina practices were
preserved over three generations. They returned to an old worship,
but who has evidence to say that it was the same as that of their
great-great-grandfathers?
In some instances the natives have very willingly adopted Christian
teachings and the Christian God, believing that by so doing their own
religion would necessarily become strengthened by an addition to their
pantheon. Such adoption, however, no matter how regarded by them, made
a permanent impression on their primitive condition by changing their
mode of thought and life.
They apparently may have abandoned all that the church taught; but what
means could have been used to restore the pure worship of pre-Columbian
times? The culture which was revived was aboriginal, but could never be
identical[121] with that of the times before Coronado.
The question then resolves itself into a historical one—which pueblos
were the home of Catholic priests for the shortest time, and in which
were their influences least powerful? The historian will of course
answer the Tusayan pueblos, and ethnology contributes her quota of
facts to indicate that the purest form of Pueblo ceremonials are now
practiced by these villagers.
Although there are several ceremonials which the Hopi claim are not
performed at Zuñi, and conversely others performed at Zuñi which are
not observed in Tusayan, there is a similarity, differing in details,
between the Kóko and Katcina dances close enough to show their
identity. The Hopi recognize this fact, and to prove it I need only
mention that the Áñakatcina in 1891 was danced at Zuñi by some of the
Hopi as a Kóko. I have already pointed out the identity of the masks,
paraphernalia, and songs of the Kókokshi, performed by the Zuñians,
and the Áñakatcina at Walpi. There is no doubt in my mind that they
are the same, but I can not accept the dictum that what is observed
in one is identical with what exists in the other. There are slight
modifications which exist likewise in different Hopi villages, as will
be seen by a comparison of my descriptions of the two. One marked
difference is that several Kókokshi dances were performed in the summer
I spent at Zuñi, and that this identical Katcina (the Áña) is performed
but once each summer in any one Hopi village.
[Illustration: PL. CXI.
A. HOEN & CO., LITH.
A POWAMU MASK.]
[Illustration: FIG. 48—Symbolism of the helmet of Húmiskatcina (tablet
removed).]
The only other Kóko[122] dance which I know of from personal
observation is the tablet dance, which is in many respects homologous
with the Húmiskatcina. The symbolism of the mask and tablet, however,
differs from the Húmis, and while in a speculative way I regard them
the same we must await more research to prove them identical. The
subject is still more complicated by the fact that the Hopi have a
tablet mask with still a third symbolic character, which they call the
Zuñi or Síohúmiskatcina.
I think we need have no hesitation in supposing that the so-called Sío
(Zuñi) Katcina, which I have elsewhere described, is a Zuñi celebration
derived from that pueblo. I do not know whether it is ever performed
there in the same way as at Walpi, since it has not been described by
any of the students of the Zuñians.
We have, however, as before mentioned, a partial description by Cushing
of the Zuñi Shálako, and from his account we can gather a few of
the main points of difference between it and the Síocálako performed
at Walpi and described in the preceding pages. The Hopi, however,
have a Cálako of their own. They distinguish it from the Síocálako,
which they not only recognize as of Zuñi origin, but are also able to
designate the family which brought it from the Zuñians. The name of
the celebration and the use of Zuñi words in it both point to this
conclusion.
The correspondence between the Héemashikwi, or last[123] dance—the
tablet dance described by me elsewhere as occurring at the close of the
series of Kókos—is probably the same as the Nimánkatcina. There are
many similarities to indicate this fact, and, although as yet we know
nothing of the secret observances connected with it, I suspect that a
similarity between them and those described in the Móñkiva will later
be made known.
Dolls in imitation of the Héemashikwi are reported in the catalogue
of Colonel James Stevenson’s collection from Zuñi in 1881, and I have
no doubt it will be found that there formerly was, and possibly still
survives, at the celebration of this dance at Zuñi the characteristic
habit in Tusayan of distributing dolls as presents at the departure of
the Katcinas.
Mrs Stevenson has given short descriptions of some of the Zuñi Kókos
and figures of the masks of the same. While it is not possible for
me to use them in a comparison with Katcina celebrations, they are
interesting in studies of symbolism. The “flogging Kókos,” for
instance, seem to function the same as Túñwup among the Hopi, but as
the symbolism of the mask of the floggers, Saiāhlias, is not given by
Mrs Stevenson I am not able to express an opinion whether the same
personage is intended or not. The time of year when the flagellation is
inflicted by the Saiāhlia of Zuñi would be an interesting observation,
and the accompanying ceremonials would also be of great interest for
comparison with the Powámû.
I have not been able to find the equivalents of the Sälämobias among
the Hopi, but the symbolism of Pooatíwa agrees almost exactly with that
of the Hopi Paútiwa.
The Sälämobias of the different world-quarters agree in color with
those assigned by the Hopi to the same points, with the exception of
those for the above and below. In Zuñi, according to Cushing and Mrs
Stevenson, the above is all colors, the below black. Among the Hopi the
above was found to be black and the below all colors. This discrepancy
in observations is recommended as a good subject for future students,
both in Tusayan and Zuñi.
In reviewing the Hopi ceremonial personages I have been unable to find
any homology with the Sälämobias. The views of the masks[124] given
by Mrs Stevenson afford little information on this subject, but in
her sand picture, surrounded by the Plumed Snake, I find some of the
figures of Sälämobias with indication of a connecting band between the
eyes, which recalls Paútiwa’s[125] symbolism. There does not seem to be
a wide difference between the profile views of the masks of Paútiwa and
Sälämobia of the different world-quarters.
The environment of the pueblos of Tusayan and of Cibola is so similar
and the rain-cloud worship so imperative in both that, a priori, we
should expect the rain-cloud symbol to be as frequent in Zuñi as in
Walpi. I am much surprised therefore in studying the description of
Zuñi ceremonials to find nothing said of the characteristic Hopi
symbols of the rain clouds, the semicircles and the parallel lines of
falling rain (plate CVIII). If the rain clouds at Zuñi are limited
to the terraced[126] figures found on the prayer-meal bowls and the
same made in sacred meal we certainly have a significant difference
between the symbolism of these two peoples. In Tusayan there is not
one of the great religious festivals where the semicircular clouds and
falling rain do not appear as symbols. Thus far students of the Zuñi
ceremonials have not figured one instance in which they are used.[127]
The short account of the effigy of the Plumed Snake (Kólowisi) with
attendant ceremonials at Zuñi, by Mrs Stevenson, shows the existence
of archaic rites with the Plumed Serpent which have been observed in a
different form (Pálülükoñti) at Tusayan. The time of the year when the
Zuñi effigy is brought to the kivas on a rude altar is not given; nor
is the special name of the ceremony. The conch shell is similarly used
to imitate the voice of the Plumed Serpent at Zuñi, as at Walpi, in the
Soyáluña and the Pálülükoñti. In neither of these ceremonials, however,
have the effigies been observed to be carried ceremonially about the
pueblos of the Tusayan mesas. The symbolism of Pálülükoñti and Kólowisi
seems to differ, judging from published accounts and symbolism on Zuñi
and Hopi pottery. I find no intimation of the horn on the head of Zuñi
pictures of the Plumed Snake, and the arrowhead decoration fails on
the body. The two crescents which are common on the body of the Zuñi
figures have not been observed in Hopi pictographs or effigies.
It would seem both from legendary and other reasons that there has not
been the warmest friendship between the inhabitants of Tusayan and
Cibola. This is not to be wondered at, for only on rare occasions has
there been good feeling between two pueblos even of the same speech.
The massacre of Awatobi at the hands of the other Hopi has been told
elsewhere, and even at the present day Oraibi is not on the best of
terms with the other Hopi towns. The legends of the Hopi are full
of quarrels of one pueblo with another, and bitter hatred sometimes
developing into bloody wars in which their own kindred were attacked
and pueblos destroyed.
In her article, “A chapter of Zuñi mythology,”[128] Mrs Stevenson
says: “The Ahshiwanni,[129] a priesthood of fourteen men who fast
and pray for rain; the Kokko, an organization bearing the name of
anthropomorphic beings (principally ancestral) whom they personate,
and thirteen esoteric societies are the three fundamental religious
bodies of Zuñi.... The society of the Kokko personate anthropomorphic
gods by wearing masks and other paraphernalia. There are six estufas
or chambers of the Kokko for the six regions, the north, west, south,
east, zenith, and nadir, and these rooms present fantastic scenes
when the primitive drama is enacted by the personators of these
anthropomorphic gods.... The esoteric societies, with but one or two
exceptions, have nothing to do with anthropomorphic beings, this
category of gods being zoomorphic.”
Accepting these statements as a correct idea of the “three fundamental
religious bodies of Zuñi” I find great difficulty in tracing an
intimate relation between them and those of the Hopi system. A large
number of the Katcinas are anthropomorphic and likewise ancestral.
They bear the names of animals, and in that sense may be called in
some instances zoomorphic. Walpi, however, has but five kivas, the
members of each of which in the Powámû personify different Katcinas.
I have not yet discovered that each of these kivas is associated with
a different cardinal world-quarter, as Mrs Stevenson finds to be the
case in Zuñi. The esoteric societies of the Zuñi, according to Mrs
Stevenson, “with but one or two exceptions have nothing to do with
anthropomorphic beings.” I am not able to harmonize my observations
of the secret societies in Tusayan with the definition given of the
esoteric societies in Zuñi, and must await some clearer insight into
the character of the latter before offering any discussion of several
resemblances which can be detected. From an examination of Cushing’s
article in the _Century Magazine_, in which the esoteric societies
of Zuñi are briefly defined, I am led to believe that the so-called
esoteric societies in that pueblo differ a good deal from those in
Walpi. The Hopi testify that while some of their secret fraternities
are represented in Zuñi several of them are not identical.[130]
Mrs Stevenson does not make it clear who these fourteen (six) so-called
Ahshiwanni are, but calls them “rain priests.” She intimates that they
appeal directly to the Sun father, their supreme deity, and to the rain
makers, while the “societies” address “the beast gods of their worship
to intercede with the Sun father and rain makers.” There is apparently
no parallelism between these conditions and those at Tusayan, but
I can readily find truth in the statement when applied to the Hopi
that “no society convenes without giving much time to invocations for
rain.” I am sure that some of the societies at Tusayan do not appeal to
the beast gods to intercede with the Sun father and rain makers, but
address the latter directly in their prayers. In this particular there
is certainly a marked difference between the conceptions back of the
rites in Tusayan and those ascribed to the Cibolans.[131]
The custom of the Yókimoñwi, or rain chief, retiring alone to a cell
to pray for rain was practiced in Tusayan. One of these retreats is to
be seen at the Middle mesa. Among the foothills there is a block of
sandstone, 15 feet long, 5 feet wide, and 4 feet thick. Its flat face
is about horizontal or slightly tilted toward the northeast. Portions
of a rough wall are still in place under the block, confirming the
story that there was here formerly a chamber of which the block was the
roof. An aperture on the northeastern corner, about 20 inches square,
is usually closed with loose stones, but the chamber is now filled in
with sand to within about 2 feet of the roof or lower surface of the
slab. The interior of the chamber was about 8 feet long and 4 feet
wide. On the roof, which was painted white, are figures of yellow,
green, red, and white rain clouds with parallel lines of falling rain
and zigzag lightning symbols in conventional patterns. To this chamber,
it is said, the Rain chief of the Water people retired at planting time
and lived there sixteen days, his food being brought to him by a girl
during his vigils. He was able by his prayers to bring the rain. These
visits were made long ago, but even now there are páhos strewn about
the chamber, and devout persons visit the place at the present day
with a nakwákwoci and pray for rain. Although the Rain chief no longer
passes the sixteen days there, it is a holy place for the purposes
mentioned.