CHAPTER XIV. AMERICAN DIVINE MYTHS

Novelty of the "New World "--Different stages of culture

represented there--Question of American Monotheism--

Authorities and evidence cited--Myths examined: Eskimo,

Ahts, Thlinkeets, Iroquois, the Great Hare--Dr. Brinton's

theory of the hare--Zuni myths--Transition to Mexican

mythology.

The divine myths of the vast American continent are a topic which a

lifetime entirely devoted to the study could not exhaust. At best it

is only a sketch in outline that can be offered in a work on the

development of mythology in general. The subject is the more interesting

as anything like systematic borrowing of myths from the Old World is all

but impossible, as has already been argued in chapter xi. America, it

is true, may have been partially "discovered" many times; there probably

have been several points and moments of contact between the New and the

Old World. Yet at the time when the Spaniards landed there, and while

the first conquests and discoveries were being pursued, the land and

the people were to Europeans practically as novel as the races and

territories of a strange planet.* But the New World only revealed the

old stock of humanity in many of its familiar stages of culture, and,

consequently, with the old sort of gods, and myths, and creeds.

* Reville, Hibbert Lectures, 1884, p. 8

In the evolution of politics, society, ritual, and in all the outward

and visible parts of religion, the American races ranged between a

culture rather below the ancient Egyptian and a rudeness on a level with

Australian or Bushman institutions. The more civilised peoples, Aztecs

and Peruvians, had many peculiarities in common with the races of

ancient Egypt, China and India; where they fell short was in the lack

of alphabet or syllabary. The Mexican MSS. are but an advanced

picture-writing, more organised than that of the Ojibbeways; the

Peruvian Quipus was scarcely better than the Red Indian wampum records.

Mexicans and Peruvians were settled in what deserved to be called

cities; they had developed a monumental and elaborately decorated

architecture; they were industrious in the arts known to them, though

ignorant of iron. Among the Aztecs, at least, weapons and tools of

bronze, if rare, were not unknown. They were sedulous in agriculture,

disciplined in war, capable of absorbing and amalgamating with conquered

tribes.

In Peru the ruling family, the Incas, enjoyed all the sway of a

hierarchy, and the chief Inca occupied nearly as secure a position,

religious, social and political, as any Rameses or Thothmes. In Mexico,

doubtless, the monarch's power was at least nominally limited, in much

the same way as that of the Persian king. The royal rule devolved on the

elected member of an ancient family, but once he became prince he was

surrounded by imposing ceremony. In both these two civilised peoples

the priesthood enjoyed great power, and in Mexico, though not so

extensively, if at all, in Peru, practised an appalling ritual of

cannibalism and human sacrifice. It is extremely probable, or rather

certain, that both of these civilisations were younger than the culture

of other American peoples long passed away, whose cities stand in

colossal ruin among the forests, whose hieroglyphs seem undecipherable,

and whose copper-mines were worked at an unknown date on the shore of

Lake Superior. Over the origin and date of those "crowned races" it

were vain to linger here. They have sometimes left the shadows of

names--Toltecs and Chichimecs--and relics more marvellous than the

fainter traces of miners and builders in Southern and Central Africa.

The rest is silence. We shall never know why the dwellers in Palenque

deserted their majestic city while "the staircases were new, the steps

whole, the edges sharp, and nowhere did traces of wear and tear give

certain proof of long habitation".* On a much lower level than the

great urban peoples, but tending, as it were, in the same direction,

and presenting the same features of state communism in their social

arrangements, were, and are, the cave and cliff dwellers, the

agricultural village Indians (Pueblo Indians) of New Mexico and Arizona.

In the sides of the canons towns have been burrowed, and men have

dwelt in them like sand-martins in a sand-bank. The traveller views

"perpendicular cliffs everywhere riddled with human habitations, which

resemble the cells of a honeycomb more than anything else". In lowland

villages the dwellings are built of clay and stone.

* Nadaillac, Prehistoric America, p. 328.

"The San Juan valley is strewn with ruins for hundreds of miles; some

buildings, three storeys high, of masonry, are still standing."* The

Moquis, Zunis and Navahos of to-day, whose habits and religious rites

are known from the works of Mr. Cushing, Mr. Matthews, and Captain John

G. Bourke, are apparently descendants of "a sedentary, agricultural and

comparatively cultivated race," whose decadence perhaps began "before

the arrival of the Spaniards."**

Rather lower in the scale of culture than the settled Pueblo Indians

were the hunter tribes of North America generally. They dwelt, indeed,

in collections of wigwams which were partially settled, and the "long

house" of the Iroquois looks like an approach to the communal system of

the Pueblos.*** But while such races as Iroquois, Mandans and Ojibbeways

cultivated the maize plant, they depended for food more than did the

Pueblo peoples on success in the chase. Deer, elk, buffalo, the wild

turkey, the bear, with ducks and other birds, supplied the big kettle

with its contents. Their society was totemistic, as has already been

described; kinship, as a rule, was traced through the female line; the

Sachems or chiefs and counsellors were elected, generally out of

certain totem-kindreds; the war-chiefs were also elected when a military

expedition started on the war-path; and Jossakeeds or medicine-men (the

title varied in different dialects) had no small share of secular power.

*Nadaillac, p. 222.

** Ibid., p. 257. See Bourke's Snake-Dance of the Natives of

Arizona, and the fifth report of the Archaeological

Institute of America, with an account of the development of

Pueblo buildings. It seems scarcely necessary to discuss Mr.

Lewis Morgan's attempt to show that the Aztecs of Cortes's

time were only on the level of the modern Pueblo Indians.

*** Mr. Lewis Morgan's valuable League of the Iroquois and

the Iroquois Book of Rites (Brinton, Philadelphia, 1883) may

be consulted.

In war these tribes displayed that deliberate cruelty which survived

under the Aztec rulers as the enormous cannibal ritual of human

sacrifice. A curious point in Red Indian custom was the familiar

institution of scalping the slain in war. Other races are head-hunters,

but scalping is probably peculiar to the Red Men and the Scythians.*

* Herodotus, iv. 64.

On a level, yet lower than that of the Algonkin and other hunter tribes,

are the American races whom circumstances have driven into desolate

infertile regions; who live, like the Ahts, mainly on fish; like the

Eskimos, in a world of frost and winter; or like the Fuegians, on

crustaceans and seaweed. The minute gradations of culture cannot be

closely examined here, but the process is upwards, from people like the

Fuegians and Diggers, to the builders of the kitchen-middens--probably

quite equals of the Eskimos***--and so through the condition of Ahts.

*** Nadaillac, Prehistoric America, p. 66.

The resemblance between Scythian and Red Indian manners exercised the

learned in the time of Grotius. It has been acutely remarked by J. G.

Mueller, that in America one stage of society, as developed in the Old

World, is absent. There is no pastoral stage. The natives had neither

domesticated kine, goats nor sheep. From this lack of interest in the

well-being of the domesticated lower animals he is inclined to deduce

the peculiarly savage cruelty of American war and American religion.

Sympathy was undeveloped. Possibly the lack of tame animals may have

encouraged the prevalence of human sacrifice. The Brahmana shows how,

in Hindostan, the lower animals became vicarious substitutes for man in

sacrifice, as the fawn of Artemis or the ram of Jehovah took the

place of Iphigenia or of Isaac. Cf. J. G. Mueller, Oeschichte der

Amerikanisehen Urreligionen, pp. 22, 23.

Thlinkeets, Cahrocs and other rude tribes of the North-west Pacific

Coast, to that of Sioux, Blackfeet, Mandans, Iroquois, and then to the

settled state of the Pueblo folk, the southern comforts of the Natchez,

and finally to the organisation of the Mayas, and the summit occupied by

the Aztecs and Incas.

Through the creeds of all these races, whether originally of the same

stock or not, run many strands of religious and mythical beliefs--the

very threads that are woven into the varied faiths of the Old World. The

dread of ghosts; the religious adoration paid to animals; the belief in

kindred and protecting beasts; the worship of inanimate objects, roughly

styled fetishes; a certain reverence for the great heavenly bodies, sun,

moon and Pleiades; a tendency to regard the stars, with all other things

and phenomena, as animated and personal--with a belief in a Supreme

Creator, these are the warp, as it were, of the fabric of American

religion.*

* The arguments against the borrowing of the Creator from

missionaries have already been stated.

In one stage of culture one set of those ideas may be more predominant

than in another stage, but they are present in all. The zoo-morphic or

theriomorphic mythologies and creeds are nowhere more vivacious than in

America. Not content with the tribal zoomorphic guardian and friend,

the totem, each Indian was in the habit of seeking for a special animal

protector of his own. This being, which he called his Manitou,

revealed itself to him in the long fasts of that savage sacrament

which consecrates the entrance on full manhood. Even in the elaborate

religions of the civilised races, Peruvians and Aztecs, the animal

deities survive, and sacred beasts gather in the shrine of Pachacamac,

or a rudimentary remnant of ancestral beak or feather clings to the

statue of Huitzilopochtli. But among the civilised peoples, in which

the division of labour found its place and human ranks were minutely

discriminated, the gods too had their divisions and departments. An

organised polytheism prevailed, and in the temples of Centeotl and

Tlazolteotl, Herodotus or Pausanias would have readily recognised the

Demeter and the Aphrodite of Mexico.

There were departmental gods, and there was even an obvious tendency

towards the worship of one spiritual deity, the Bretwalda of all the

divine kings, a god on his way to becoming single and supreme. The

religions and myths of America thus display, like the myths and

religions of the Old World, the long evolution of human thought in its

seeking after God. The rude first draughts of Deity are there, and

they are by no means effaced in the fantastic priestly designs of

departmental divinities.

The question of a primitive American monotheism has been more debated

than even that of the "Heno-theism" of the Aryans in India. On this

point it must be said that, in a certain sense, probably any race of men

may be called monotheistic, just as, in another sense, Christians who

revere saints may be called polytheistic.*

* Gaidoz, Revue Critique, March, 1887.

It has been constantly set forth in this work that, in moments of truly

religious thought, even the lowest tribes turn their minds towards a

guardian, a higher power, something which watches and helps the race of

men. This mental approach towards the powerful friend is an aspiration,

and sometimes a dogma; it is religious, not mythological; it is

monotheistic, not polytheistic. The Being appealed to by the savage in

moments of need or despair may go by a name which denotes a hawk, or a

spider, or a grasshopper, but we may be pretty sure that little thought

of such creatures is in the mind of the worshipper in his hour of need.*

* There are exceptions, as when the Ojibbeway, being in

danger, appeals to his own private protecting Manitou,

perhaps a wild duck; or when the Zuni cries to "Ye animal

gods, my fathers!" (Bureau of Ethnol., 1880-81, p. 42.) Thus

we can scarcely agree entirely with M. Maurice Vernes when

he says, "All men are monotheistic in the fervour of

adoration or in moments of deep thought". (L'Histoire des

Religions, Paris, 1887, p. 61.) The tendency of adoration

and of speculation is, however, monotheistic.

Again, the most ludicrous or infamous tales may be current about the

adventures and misadventures of the grasshopper or the hawk. He may be,

as mythically conceived, only one out of a crowd of similar magnified

non-natural men or lower animals. But neither his companions nor his

legend are likely to distract the thoughts of the Bushman who cries to

Cagn for food, or of the Murri who tells his boy that Pund-jel watches

him from the heavens, or of the Solomon Islander who appeals to Qat as

he crosses the line of reefs and foam. Thus it may be maintained that

whenever man turns to a guardian not of this world, not present to the

senses, man is for the moment a theist, and often a monotheist. But when

we look from aspiration to doctrine, from the solitary ejaculation to

ritual, from religion to myth, it would probably be vain to suppose that

an uncontaminated belief in one God only, the maker and creator of all

things, has generally prevailed, either in America or elsewhere. Such

a belief, rejecting all minor deities, consciously stated in terms

and declared in ritual, is the result of long ages and efforts of

the highest thought, or, if once and again the intuition of Deity has

flashed on some lonely shepherd or sage like an inspiration, his creed

has usually been at war with the popular opinions of men, and has,

except in Islam, won its disciples from the learned and refined. America

seems no exception to so general a rule.

An opposite opinion is very commonly entertained, because the narratives

of missionaries, and even the novels of Cooper and others, have made

readers familiar with such terms as "the Great Spirit" in the mouths of

Pawnees or Mohicans. On the one hand, taking the view of borrowing, Mrs.

E. A. Smith says: "'The Great Spirit,' so popularly and poetically know

as the God of the Red Man,' and 'the happy hunting-ground,' generally

reported to be the Indian's idea of a future state, are both of them but

their ready conception of the white man's God and heaven".* Dr. Brinton,

too,** avers that "the Great Spirit is a post-Christian conception."

In most cases these terms are entirely of modern origin, coined at the

suggestion of missionaries, applied to the white man's God....

* Bureau of Ethnology's Second Report, p. 52.

** Myths of the New World, New York, 1876, p. 58.

The Jesuits' _Relations_ state positively that there was "no one

immaterial God recognised by the Algonkin tribes, and that the title

'The Great Manito' was introduced first by themselves in its personal

sense." The statement of one missionary cannot be taken, of course, to

bind all the others. The Pere Paul le Jeune remarks: "The savages give

the name of Manitou to whatsoever in nature, good or evil, is superior

to man. Therefore when we speak of God, they sometimes call him 'The

Good Manitou,' that is, 'The Good Spirit'."* The same Pere Paul le

Jeune** says that by Manitou his flock meant _un ange ou quelque nature

puissante. Il y'en a de bons et de mauvais_. The evidence of Pere

Hierosme Lallemant*** has already been alluded to, but it may be as well

to repeat that, while he attributes to the Indians a kind of unconscious

religious theism, he entirely denies them any monotheistic dogmas. With

Tertullian, he writes, _Exclamant vocem naturaliter Christianam_. "To

speak truth, these peoples have derived from their fathers no knowledge

of a god, and before we set foot in their country they had nothing but

vain fables about the origin of the world. Nevertheless, savages as they

were, there did abide in their hearts a secret sentiment of divinity,

and of a first principle, author of all things, whom, not knowing, they

yet invoked. In the forest, in the chase, on the water, in peril by sea,

they call him to their aid."

* Relations de la Novelle France, 1637, p. 49.

** Relations, 1633, p. 17.

*** 1648, p. 77.

This guardian, it seems, receives different names in different

circumstances. Myth comes in; the sky is a God; a Manitou dwelling in

the north sends ice and snow; another dwells in the waters, and many in

the winds.* The Pere Allouez** says, "They recognise no sovereign of

heaven or earth". Here the good father and all who advocate a theory

of borrowing are at variance with Master Thomas Heriot, "that learned

_Mathematician_" (1588). In Virginia "there is one chiefe god, that

has beene from all eternitie," who "made other gods of a principal

order".*** Near New Plymouth, Kiehtan was the chief god, and the souls

of the just abode in his mansions.**** We have already cited Alione,

and shown that he and the other gods found by the first explorers, are

certainly not of Christian origin.

* The Confessions of Kah-ge-ga-gah Bowh, a converted Crane

of the Ojibbeways, may be rather a suspicious document. Kah,

to shorten his noble name, became a preacher and platform-

speaker of somewhat windy eloquence, according to Mr.

Longfellow, who had heard him. His report is that in youth

he sought the favour of the Manitous (Mon-e-doos he calls

them), but also revered Ke-sha-mon-e-doo, the benevolent

spirit, "who made the earth with all its variety and smiling

beauty". But his narrative is very unlike the Indian account

of the manufacture of the world by this or that animal,

already given in "Myths of the Origin of Things". The

benevolent spirit, according to Kah's father, a medicine-

man, dwelt in the sun (Copway, Recollections of a Forest

Life, London, s. a. pp. 4, 5). Practical and good-natured

actions of the Great Spirit are recorded on p. 35. He

directs starving travellers by means of dreams.

** Relations, 1667, p. 1.

*** Arber, Captain John Smith, p. 321.

**** Op. cit., p. 768.

A curious account of Red Indian religion may be extracted from a work

styled _A Narrative of the Captivity and Adventures of John Tanner

during a Thirty Years' Residence among the Indians_ (New York, 1830).

Tanner was caught when a boy, and lived as an Indian, even in religion.

The Great Spirit constantly appears in his story as a moral and

protecting deity, whose favour and help may be won by "prayers, which

are aided by magical ceremonies and dances. Tanner accepted and acted

on this part of the Indian belief, while generally rejecting the

medicine men, who gave themselves out for messengers or avaters of the

Great Spirit. Tanner had frequent visions of the Great Spirit in the

form of a handsome young man, who gave him information about the future.

"Do I not know," said the appearance, "when you are hungry and in

distress? I look down upon you at all times, and it is not necessary you

should call me with such loud cries". (p. 189).

Almost all idea of a tendency towards monotheism vanishes when we turn

from the religions to the myths of the American peoples. Doubtless it

may be maintained that the religious impulse or sentiment never wholly

dies, but, after being submerged in a flood of fables, reappears in

the philosophic conception of a pure deity entertained by a few of the

cultivated classes of Mexico and Peru. But our business just now is with

the flood of fables. From north to south the more general beliefs are

marked with an early dualism, and everywhere are met the two opposed

figures of a good and a bad extra-natural being in the shape of a man or

beast. The Eskimos, for example, call the better being Torngarsuk. "They

don't all agree about his form or aspect. Some say he has no form at

all; others describe him as a great bear, or as a great man with one

arm, or as small as a finger. He is immortal, but might be killed by the

intervention of the god Crepitus."*

* The circumstances in which this is possible may be sought

for in Crantz, History of Greenland, London, 1767, vol. i.

p. 200

"The other great but malignant spirit is a nameless female," the wife or

mother of Torngarsuk. She dwells under the sea in a habitation guarded

by a Cerberus of her own, a huge dog, which may be surprised, for he

sleeps for one moment at a time. Torngarsuk is not the maker of all

things, but still is so much of a deity that many, "when they hear

of God and his omnipotence, are readily led to the supposition that

probably we mean their Torngarsuk ". All spirits are called Torngak,

and _soak = great_; hence the good spirit of the Eskimos in his limited

power is "the Great Spirit".* In addition to a host of other spirits,

some of whom reveal themselves affably to all, while others are only

accessible to Angakut or medicine-men, the Eskimos have a Pluto, or

Hades, or Charos of their own. He is meagre, dark, sullen, and devours

the bowels of the ghosts. There are spirits of fire, water, mountains,

winds; there are dog-faced demons, and the souls of abortions become

hideous spectres, while the common ghost of civilised life is familiar.

The spirit of a boy's dead mother appeared to him in open day, and

addressed him in touching language: "Be not afraid; I am thy mother,

and love thee!" for here, too, in this frozen and haunted world, love is

more strong than death.**

Eskimo myth is practical, and, where speculative, is concerned with the

fortunes of men, alive or dead, as far as these depend on propitiating

the gods or extra-natural beings. The Eskimo myth of the origin of death

would find its place among the other legends of this sort.***

* Crantz, op. cit., i. 207. note.

** Op. cit., i. 209

*** Cf. Modern Mythology, "The Origin of Death".

As a rule, Eskimo myth, as far as it has been investigated, rather

resembles that of the Zulus. _Maerchen_ or romantic stories are very

common; tales about the making of things and the actions of the

pre-human beings are singularly scarce. Except for some moon and star

myths, and the tale of the origin of death, hardly any myths, properly

so called, are reported. "Only very scanty traces," says Rink, "have

been found of any kind of ideas having been formed as to the origin and

early history of the world and the ruling powers or deities."*

* He adds that this "seems sufficiently to show that such

mythological speculations have been, in respect to other

nations, also the product of a later stage of culture". That

this position is erroneous is plain from the many myths here

collected from peoples lower in culture than the Eskimos.

Cf. Rink, _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimos_.

Turning from the Eskimos to the Ahts of Vancouver's Island, we find them

in possession of rather a copious mythology. Without believing exactly

in a _supreme_, they have the conception of a _superior_ being,

Quawteaht, no mere local nor tribal deity, but known in every village,

like Osiris in Egypt. He is also, like Osiris and Baiame, the chief of

a beautiful, far-off, spiritual country, but he had his adventures

and misadventures while he dwelt on earth. The malevolent aspect of

things--storms, disease and the rest--is either Quawteaht enraged, or

the manifestation of his opponent in the primitive dualism, Tootooch or

Chay-her, the Hades or Pluto of the Ahts. Like Hades, Chay-her is both a

person and a place--the place of the dead discomforted, and the ruler

of that land, a boneless form with a long grey beard. The exploits of

Quawteaht in the beginning of things were something between those of

Zeus and of Prometheus.

"He is the general framer--I do not say creator of all things, though

some special things are excepted."* Quawteaht, in the legend of the

loon (who was once an injured Indian, and still wails his wrongs), is

represented as conscious of the conduct of men, and as prone to avenge

misdeeds.** In person Quawteaht was of short stature, with very strong

hairy arms and legs.*** There is a touch of unconscious Darwinism in

this description of "the first Indian". In Quawteaht mingle the rough

draughts of a god and of an Adam, a creator and a first man. This

mixture is familiar in the Zulu Unkulunkulu. Unlike Prometheus,

Quawteaht did not steal the seed of fire. It was stolen by the

cuttlefish, and in some legends Quawteaht was the original proprietor.

Like most gods, he could assume the form of the beasts, and it was in

the shape of a great whale that he discomfited his opponent Tootooch.***

It does not appear that Tootooch receives any worship or adoration, such

as is offered to the sun and moon.

* Sproat, Savage Life, London, 1868, p. 210.

** Op. cit., p. 182.

***Ibid. i. p. 179.

Leaving the Ahts for the Thlinkeets, we find Yehl, the god or hero of

the introduction of the arts, who, like the Christ of the Finnish epic

or Maui in New Zealand, was born by a miraculous birth. His mother was

a Thlinkeet woman, whose boys had all been slain. As she wandered

disconsolate by the sea-shore, a dolphin or whale, taking pity upon her.

bade her drink a little salt water and swallow a pebble. She did so, and

in due time bore a child, Yehl, the hero of the Thlinkeets. Once, in

his youth, Yehl shot a supernatural crane, skinned it, and whenever

he wished to fly, clothed himself in the bird's skin. Yet he is always

known as a raven. Hence there is much the same confusion between Yehl

and the bird as between Amun in Egypt and the ram in whose skin he was

once pleased to reveal himself to a mortal. In Yehl's youth occurred the

deluge, produced by the curse of an unfriendly uncle of his own; but the

deluge was nothing to Yehl, who flew up to heaven, and anchored himself

to a cloud by his beak till the waters abated. Like most heroes of his

kind, Yehl brought light to men. The heavenly bodies in his time were

kept in boxes by an old chief. Yehl, by an ingenious stratagem, got

possession of the boxes. To fly up to the firmament with the treasure,

to open the boxes, and to stick stars, sun and moon in their proper

places in the sky, was to the active Yehl the work of a moment.

Fire he stole, like Prometheus, carrying a brand in his beak till

he reached the Thlinkeet shore. There the fire dropped on stones and

sticks, from which it is still obtained by striking the flints or

rubbing together the bits of wood. Water, like fire, was a monopoly in

those days, and one Khanukh kept all of it in his own well. Khanukh was

the ancestor of the Wolf family among the Thlinkeets, as Yehl is the

first father of the stock called Ravens. The wolf and raven thus answer

to the mythic creative crow and cockatoo in Australian mythology, and

take sides in the primitive dualism. When Yehl went to steal water

from Khanukh, the pair had a discussion, exactly like that between

Joukahainen and Waina-moinen in the epic of the Finns, as to which of

them had been longer in the world. "Before the world stood in its place,

I was there," says Yehl; and Wainamoinen says, "When earth was made,

I was there; when space was unrolled, I launched the sun on his way".

Similar boasts occur in the poems of Empedocles and of Taliesin.

Khanukh, however, proved to be both older and more skilled in magic

than Yehl. Yet the accomplishment of flying once more stood Yehl in good

stead, and he carried off the water, as Odin, in the form of a bird,

stole Suttung's mead, by flying off with it in his beak. Yehl then went

to his own place.*

In the myths of the other races on the North-west Pacific Coast nothing

is more remarkable than the theriomorphic character of the heroes, who

are also to a certain extent gods and makers of things.

The Koniagas have their ancestral bird and dog, demiurges, makers of

sea, rivers, hills, yet subject to "a great deity called Schljam Schoa,"

of whom they are the messengers and agents.** The Aleuts have their

primeval dog-hero, and also a great old man, who made people, like

Deucalion, and as in the Macusi myth, by throwing stones over his

shoulder.***

* Bancroft, iii. 100-102 [Holmberg, Eth. Skiz., p. 61].

** Ibid., 104, quoting Dall's Alaska, p. 405, and

Lisiansky's Voyage, pp. 197, 198.

*** Brett's Indians qf Guiana, p. 384.

Concerning the primal mythical beings of the great hunter and warrior

tribes of America, Algonkins, Hurons and Iroquois, something has already

been said in the chapter on "Myths of the Origin of Things".

It is the peculiarity of such heroes or gods of myth as the opposing Red

Indian good and evil deities that they take little part in the affairs

of the world when once these have been started.* Ioskeha and Tawiscara,

the good and bad primeval brothers, have had their wars, and are now, in

the opinion of some, the sun and the moon.** The benefits of Ioskeha

to mankind are mainly in the past; as, for example, when, like another

Indra, he slew the great frog that had swallowed the waters, and gave

them free course over earth.***

* Erminie Smith, in _Report of Bureau of Ethnology_, 1880-

81, publishes a full, but not very systematic, account of

Iroquois gods of to-day. Thunder, the wind, and echo are the

chief divine figures. The Titans or Jotuns, the opposed

supernatural powers, are giants of stone. "Among the most

ancient of the deities were their most remote ancestors,

certain animals who later were transformed into human

shapes, the name of the animals being preserved by their

descendants, who have used them to designate their gentes or

clans." The Iroquois have a strange and very touching

version of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice (op. cit., p.

104). It appears to be native and unborrowed; all the

details are pure Iroquois.

** Relations de la Nouvelle France, 1636, p. 102.

*** Ibid. i. p. 108.

Ioskeha is still so far serviceable that he "makes the pot boil," though

this may only be a way of recalling the benefits conferred on man by him

when he learned from the turtle how to make fire. Ioskeha, moreover is

thanked for success in the chase, because he let loose the animals from

the cave in which they lived at the beginning. As they fled he spoiled

their speed by wounding them with arrows; only one escaped, the

wind-swift wolf. Some devotees regarded Ioskeha as the teacher of

agriculture and the giver of great harvests of maize. In 1635 Ioskeha

was seen, all meagre and skeleton-like, tearing a man's leg with his

teeth, a prophecy of famine. A more agreeable apparition of loskeha is

reported by the Pere Barthelemy Vimont.* When an Iroquois was fishing,

"a demon appeared to him in the shape of a tall and beautiful young man.

'Be not afraid,' said this spirit; 'I am the master of earth, whom

you Hurons worship under the name of Ioskeha; the French give me the

erroneous name of Jesus, but they know me not.'" Ioskeha then gave some

directions for curing the small-pox. The Indian's story is, of course,

coloured by what he knew of missionary teaching, but the incident should

be compared with the "medicine dream" of John Tanner.

The sky, conceived as a person, held a place rather in the religion

than in the mythology of the Indians. He was approached with prayer and

sacrifice, and "they implored the sky in all their necessities".** "The

sky hears us," they would say in taking an oath, and they appeased the

wrath of the sky with a very peculiar semi-cannibal sacrifice.***

* Relations, 1640, p. 92.

** Op. cit. i. 1636, p. 107.

*** For Pawnees and Blackfeet see Grinnell, Pawnee and

Blackfoot Legends (2 vols.).

What Ioskeha was to the Iroquois, Michabo or Manibozho was to the

Algonkin tribes. There has been a good deal of mystification about

Michabo or Manibozho, or Messou, who was probably, in myth, a hare _sans

phrase_, but who has been converted by philological processes into a

personification of light or dawn. It has already been seen that the wild

North Pacific peoples recognise in their hero and demiurge animals of

various species; dogs, ravens, muskrats and coyotes have been found in

this lofty estimation, and the Utes believe in "Cin-au-av, the ancient

of wolves".* It would require some labour to derive all the ancient

heroes and gods from misconceptions about the names of vast natural

phenomena like light and dawn, and it is probable that Michabo or

Mani-bozho, the Great Hare of the Algonkins, is only a successful

apotheosised totem like the rest. His legend and his dominion are very

widely spread. Dr. Brinton himself (p. 153) allows that the great hare

is a totem. Perhaps our earliest authority about the mythical great hare

in America is William Strachey's _Travaile into Virginia_.**

* Powell, in Bureau of Ethnology, 1879-80, p. 43.

** Circa 1612; reprinted by the Hakjuyt Society.

Among other information as to the gods of the natives, Strachey quotes

the remarks of a certain Indian: "We have five gods in all; our chief

god appears often unto us in the likeness of a mighty great hare; the

other four have no visible shape, but are indeed the four wynds". An

Indian, after hearing from the English the Biblical account of the

creation, explained that "our god, who takes upon him the shape of a

hare,... at length devised and made divers men and women". He also drove

away the cannibal Manitous. "That godlike hare made the water and the

fish and a great deare." The other four gods, in envy, killed the

hare's deer. This is curiously like the Bushman myth of Cagn, the mantis

insect, and his favourite eland. "The godly hare's house" is at the

place of sun-rising; there the souls of good Indians "feed on delicious

fruits with that great hare," who is clearly, so far, the Virginian

Osiris.* Dr. Brinton has written at some length on "this chimerical

beast," whose myth prevails, he says, "from the remotest wilds of the

North-west to the coast of the Atlantic, from the southern boundary

of Carolina to the cheerless swamps of Hudson's Bay.... The totem"

(totem-kindred probably is meant) "clan which bore his name was looked

up to with peculiar respect." From this it would appear that the hare

was a totem like another, and had the same origin, whatever that may

have been. According to the Pere Allouez, the Indians "ont en veneration

toute particuliere, une certaine beste chimerique, qu'ils n'ont jamais

veue sinon en songe, ils Tappelient Missibizi," which appears to be a

form of Michabo and Mani-bozho.**

* _History of Travaile_, pp. 98, 99. This hare we have

alluded to in vol. i. p. 184, but it seems worth while again

to examine Dr. Brinton's theory more closely.

** Relations, 1637, p. 13

In 1670 the same Pere Allouez gives some myths about Michabo.

"C'est-a-dire le grand lievre," who made the world, and also invented

fishing-nets. He is the master of life, and can leap eight leagues at

one bound, and is beheld by his servants in dreams. In 1634 Pere Paul le

Jeune gives a longer account of Messou, "a variation of the same name,"

according to Dr. Brinton, as Michabo. This Messou reconstructed the

drowned world out of a piece of clay brought him by an otter, which

succeeded after the failure of a raven sent out by Messou. He afterwards

married a muskrat, by whom he became the father of a flourishing family.

"Le brave reparateur de l'univers est le frere aisne de toutes les

bestes," says the mocking missionary.* Messou has the usual powers of

shape-shifting, which are the common accomplishments of the medicine-man

or conjuror, _se transformant en mille sortes d'animaux.** He is not

so much a creator as a demiurge, inferior to a mysterious being called

Atahocan. But Atahocan is obsolescent, and his name is nearly equivalent

to an old wife's fable, a story of events _au temps jadis_.*** "Le mot

_Nitatoho-can signifie, 'Je dis un vieux conte fait a plaisir'."

* _Relations_, 1634, p. 13.

** Op. cit., 1633, p. 16.

*** Op. cit., 1634, p. 13.

These are examples of the legends of Michabo or Manibozho, the great

hare. He appears in no way to differ from the other animals of magical

renown, who, in so many scores of savage myths, start the world on its

way and instruct men in the arts. His fame may be more widely

spread, but his deeds are those of eagle, crow, wolf, coyote, spider,

grasshopper, and so forth, in remote parts of the world. His legend is

the kind of legend whose origin we ascribe to the credulous fancy of

early peoples, taking no distinction between themselves and the beasts.

If the hare was indeed the totem of a successful and honoured kindred,

his elevation is perfectly natural and intelligible.

Dr. Brinton, in his _Myths of the New World_ (New York, 1876), adopts

a different line of explanation. Michabo, he says, "was originally the

highest divinity recognised by them, powerful and beneficent beyond all

others, maker of the heavens and the world". We gladly welcome him in

that capacity in religion. But it has already been shown that Michabo is

only, in myth, the _reparateur de l'univers_, and that he has a sleeping

partner--a deity retired from business. Moreover, Dr. Brinton's account

of Michabo, "powerful and beneficent beyond all others, maker of

the heavens and the world," clashes with his own statement, that "of

monotheism as displayed in the one personal definite God of the Semitic

races" (to whom Dr. Brinton's description of Michabo applies) "there is

not a single instance on the American continent."* The residences and

birthplaces of Michabo are as many as those of the gods of Greece. It is

true that in some accounts, as in Strachey's, "his bright home is in

the _rising_ sun". It does not follow that the hare had any original

connection with the dawn. But this connection Dr. Brinton seeks to

establish by philological arguments. According to this writer, the names

(Manibozho, Nanibozhu, Missibizi, Michabo, Messou) "all seem compounded,

according to well-ascertained laws of Algonkin euphony, from the words

corresponding to _great_ and _hare or rabbit_, or the first two perhaps

from _spirit_ and _hare_".** But this seeming must not be trusted. We

must attentively examine the Algonkin root _wab_, when it will appear

"that in fact there are two roots having this sound. One is the initial

syllable of the word translated hare or rabbit, but the other means

_white_, and from it is derived the words for the east, the dawn,

the light, the day, and the morning. Beyond a doubt (sic) this is the

compound in the names Michabo and Manibozho, which therefore mean the

great light, the spirit of light, of the dawn, or the east."

* Relations, pp. 63, 176.

** Op. cit., p. 178.

Then the war of Manibozho became the struggle of light and darkness.

Finally, Michabo is recognised by Dr. Brinton as "the not unworthy

personification of the purest conceptions they possessed concerning the

Father of All,"* though, according to Dr. Brinton in an earlier passage,

they can hardly be said to have possessed such conceptions.** We are not

responsible for these inconsistencies. The degeneracy to the belief in

a "mighty great hare," a "chimerical beast," was the result of a

misunderstanding of the root _wab_ in their own language by the

Algonkins, a misunderstanding that not only affected the dialects in

which the root _wab_ occurred in the hare's name, but those in which it

did not!

On the whole, the mythology of the great hunting and warrior tribes of

North America is peopled by the figures of ideal culture-heroes, partly

regarded as first men, partly as demiurges and creators. They waver in

outward aspect between the beautiful youths of the "medicine-dreams" and

the bestial guise of totems and protecting animals. They have a tendency

to become identified with the sun, like Osiris in Egypt, or with the

moon. They are adepts in all the arts of the medicine-man, and they

are especially addicted to animal metamorphosis. In the long winter

evenings, round the camp-fire, the Indians tell such grotesque tales of

their pranks and adventures as the Greeks told of their gods, and the

Middle Ages of the saints.***

* Relations, p. 183.

** Op. cit., p. 53.

*** A full collection of these, as they survive in oral

tradition, with an obvious European intermixture, will be

found in Mr. Leland's _Algonquin Legends_, London, 1884, and

in Schoolcraft's _Hiawatha Legends_, London, 1856. See

especially the Manibozho legend.

The stage in civilisation above that of the hunter tribes is represented

in the present day by the settled Pueblo Indians of New Mexico and

Arizona. Concerning the faith of the Zunis we fortunately possess an

elaborate account by Mr. Frank Cushing.* Mr. Cushing was for long a

dweller in the clay _pueblos_ of the Zunis, and is an initiated member

of their sacred societies. He found that they dealt at least as freely

in metaphysics as the Maoris, and that, like the Australians, "they

suppose sun, moon and stars, the sky, earth and sea, in all their

phenomena and elements, and all inanimate objects, as well as plants,

animals and men, to belong to one great system of all conscious and

interrelated life, in which the degrees of relationship seem to be

determined largely, if not wholly, by the degrees of resemblance". This,

of course, is stated in terms of modern self-conscious speculation.

When much the same opinions are found among the Kamilaroi and Kurnai of

Australia, they are stated thus: "Some of the totems divide not mankind

only, but the whole universe into what may almost be called gentile

divisions".**

* Report of Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, 1880-81.

** Kamilaroi and Kurnai, p. 167.(p. 170). Mrs. Langloh

Parker, in a letter to me, remarks that Baiame alone is

outside of this conception, and is common to all classes,

and totems, and class divisions.

"Everything in nature is divided between the classes. The wind belongs

to one and the rain to another. The sun is Wutaroo and the moon is

Yungaroo.... The South Australian savage looks upon the universe as

the great tribe, to one of whose divisions he himself belongs, and all

things, animate or inanimate, which belong to his class are parts of

the body corporate, whereof he himself is part. They are almost parts of

himself".

Manifestly this is the very condition of mind out of which mythology,

with all existing things acting as _dramatis personae_, must inevitably

arise.

The Zuni philosophy, then, endows all the elements and phenomena of

nature with personality, and that personality is blended with

the personality of the beast "whose operations most resemble its

manifestation". Thus lightning is figured as a serpent, and the serpent

holds a kind of mean position between lightning and man. Strangely

enough, flint arrow-heads, as in Europe, are regarded as the gift of

thunder, though the Zunis have not yet lost the art of making, nor

entirely abandoned, perhaps, the habit of using them. Once more, the

supernatural beings of Zuni religion are almost invariably in the shape

of animals, or in monstrous semi-theriomorphic form. There is no general

name for the gods, but the appropriate native terms mean "creators and

masters," "makers," and "finishers," and "immortals". All the classes of

these, including the class that specially protects the animals necessary

to men, "are believed to be related by blood ". But among these

essences, the animals are nearest to man, most accessible, and therefore

most worshipped, sometimes as mediators. But the Zuni has mediators even

between him and his animal mediators, and these are fetishes, usually

of stone, which accidentally resemble this or that beast-god in shape.

Sometimes, as in the Egyptian sphinx, the natural resemblance of a stone

to a living form has been accentuated and increased by art. The stones

with a natural resemblance to animals are most valued when they are old

and long in use, and the orthodox or priestly theory is that they are

petrifactions of this or that beast. Flint arrow-heads and feathers are

bound about them with string.

All these beliefs and practices inspire the Zuni epic, which is

repeated, at stated intervals, by the initiated to the neophytes. Mr.

Cushing heard a good deal of this archaic poem in his sacred capacity.

The epic contains a Zuni cosmogony. Men, as in so many other myths,

originally lived in the dark places of earth in four caverns. Like the

children of Uranus and Gaea, they murmured at the darkness. The "holder

of the paths of life," the sun, now made two beings out of his own

substance; they fell to the earth, armed with rainbow and lightning, a

shield and a magical flint knife. The new-comers cut the earth with a

flint-knife, as Qat cut the palpable dark with a blade of red obsidian

in Melanesia. Men were then lifted through the hole on the shield, and

began their existence in the sunlight, passing gradually through the

four caverns. Men emerged on a globe still very wet; for, as in the

Iroquois and other myths, there had been a time when "water was the

world ". The two benefactors dried the earth and changed the monstrous

beasts into stones. It is clear that this myth accounts at once for

the fossil creatures found in the rocks and for the merely accidental

resemblance to animals of stones now employed as fetishes.* In the

stones is believed to survive the "medicine" or magic, the spiritual

force of the animals of old.

* Report, etc, p. 15.

The Zunis have a culture-hero as usual, Po'shai-an-k'ia, who founded the

mysteries, as Demeter did in Greece, and established the sacred orders.

He appeared in human form, taught men agriculture, ritual, and then

departed. He is still attentive to prayer. He divided the world into

regions, and gave the animals their homes and functions, much as Heitsi

Eibib did in Namaqualand. These animals carry out the designs of the

culture-hero, and punish initiated Zunis who are careless of their

religious duties and ritual. The myths of the sacred beasts are long

and dismal, chiefly aetiological, or attempts to account by a fictitious

narrative for the distribution and habits of the various creatures. Zuni

prayers are mainly for success in the chase; they are directed to the

divine beasts, and are reinforced by magical ceremonies. Yet a prayer

for sport may end with such a truly religious petition as this: "Grant

me thy light; give me and my children a good trail across life ". Again

we read: "This day, my fathers, ye animal gods, although this country

be filled with enemies, render me precious.... Oh, give ye shelter of

my heart from them!" Yet in religious hymns the Zunis celebrate

Ahonawilona, "the Maker and Container of All, the All Father," the

uncreated, the unbegotten, who "thought himself out into space". Here

is monotheism among fetishists.*

* Cushing, _Report, Ethnol. Bureau_, 1891-92, p. 379.

The faith of the Zunis, with its metaphysics, its devoutness and its

magic ritual, may seem a kind of introduction to the magic, the ritual

and the piety of the ancient Aztecs. The latter may have grown, in a

long course of forgotten ages, out of elements like those of the Zuni

practice, combined with the atrocious cruelty of the warrior tribes of

the north. Perhaps in no race is the extreme contrast between low myth,

and the highest speculation, that of "the Eternal thinking himself

out into space," so marked as among the Zunis. The highly abstract

conception of Ahonawilona was unknown to Europeans when this work first

appeared.

Myth, Ritual And Religion, Vol. 2 (of 2) · 第 3 / 9 章