lands, Major MacMurray was asked by the Indians to explain the Indian
homestead law and how white men divided land. This was carefully done
with the aid of a checkerboard, and they were shown how the land was
mapped out into equal squares arranged on straight lines so that every
man could find his own. They were then urged by the officer to apply
for homesteads and settle upon them so as to avoid further trouble
with the new settlers who were pouring into the country. Smohalla
replied that he knew all this, but he did not like the new law, as it
was against nature. He then went on to expound in detail the Indian
cosmogony. Said he:
I will tell you about it. Once the world was all water and God
lived alone. He was lonesome, he had no place to put his foot, so
he scratched the sand up from the bottom and made the land, and
he made the rocks, and he made trees, and he made a man; and the
man had wings and could go anywhere. The man was lonesome, and
God made a woman. They ate fish from the water, and God made the
deer and other animals, and he sent the man to hunt and told the
woman to cook the meat and to dress the skins. Many more men
and women grew up, and they lived on the banks of the great river
whose waters were full of salmon. The mountains contained much game
and there were buffalo on the plains. There were so many people
that the stronger ones sometimes oppressed the weak and drove them
from the best fisheries, which they claimed as their own. They
fought and nearly all were killed, and their bones are to be seen
in the hills yet. God was very angry at this and he took away their
wings and commanded that the lands and fisheries should be common
to all who lived upon them; that they were never to be marked off
or divided, but that the people should enjoy the fruits that God
planted in the land, and the animals that lived upon it, and the
fishes in the water. God said he was the father and the earth was
the mother of mankind; that nature was the law; that the animals,
and fish, and plants obeyed nature, and that man only was sinful.
This is the old law.
I know all kinds of men. First there were my people (the Indians);
God made them first. Then he made a Frenchman [referring to the
Canadian voyagers of the Hudson Bay company], and then he made a
priest [priests accompanied these expeditions of the Hudson Bay
company]. A long time after that came Boston men [Americans are
thus called in the Chinook jargon, because the first of our nation
came into the Columbia river in 1796 in a ship from Boston], and
then King George men [the English]. Later came black men, and last
God made a Chinaman with a tail. He is of no account and has to
work all the time like a woman. All these are new people. Only the
Indians are of the old stock. After awhile, when God is ready, he
will drive away all the people except those who have obeyed his
laws.
Those who cut up the lands or sign papers for lands will be
defrauded of their rights and will be punished by God’s anger.
Moses was bad. God did not love him. He sold his people’s houses
and the graves of their dead. It is a bad word that comes from
Washington. It is not a good law that would take my people away
from me to make them sin against the laws of God.
You ask me to plow the ground! Shall I take a knife and tear my
mother’s bosom? Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom
to rest.
You ask me to dig for stone! Shall I dig under her skin for her
bones? Then when I die I can not enter her body to be born again.
You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it, and be rich like
white men! But how dare I cut off my mother’s hair?
It is a bad law, and my people can not obey it. I want my people to
stay with me here. All the dead men will come to life again. Their
spirits will come to their bodies again. We must wait here in the
homes of our fathers and be ready to meet them in the bosom of our
mother. (_MacMurray MS._)
The idea that the earth is the mother of all created things lies at
the base, not only of the Smohalla religion, but of the theology of
the Indian tribes generally and of primitive races all over the world.
This explains Tecumtha’s reply to Harrison: “The sun is my father and
the earth is my mother. On her bosom I will rest.” In the Indian mind
the corn, fruits, and edible roots are the gifts which the earth-mother
gives freely to her children. Lakes and ponds are her eyes, hills
are her breasts, and streams are the milk flowing from her breasts.
Earthquakes and underground noises are signs of her displeasure at the
wrongdoing of her children. Especially are the malarial fevers, which
often follow extensive disturbance of the surface by excavation or
otherwise, held to be direct punishments for the crime of lacerating
her bosom.
Smohalla’s chief supporter and assistant at the ceremonies was
Kotai′aqan, or Coteea′kun, as MacMurray spells it, of the Yakima
tribe. The name refers to a brood of young ducks scattering in alarm.
He was the son of Kamai′äkan, the great war chief of the Yakima. He
also gave MacMurray the story of the cosmos, which agrees with that
obtained from Smohalla, but is more in detail:
The world was all water, and Saghalee Tyee was above it. He threw
up out of the water at shallow places large quantities of mud, and
that made the land. Some was piled so high that it froze hard,
and the rains that fell were made into snow and ice. Some of the
earth was made hard into rocks, and anyone could see that it had
not changed—it was only harder. We have no records of the past;
but we have it from our fathers from far back that Saghalee Tyee
threw down many of the mountains he had made. It is all as our
fathers told us, and we can see that it is true when we are hunting
for game or berries in the mountains. I did not see it done. He
made trees to grow, and he made a man out of a ball of mud and
instructed him in what he should do. When the man grew lonesome, he
made a woman as his companion, and taught her to dress skins, and
to gather berries, and to make baskets of the bark of roots, which
he taught her how to find.
She was asleep and dreaming of her ignorance of how to please man,
and she prayed to Saghalee Tyee to help her. He breathed on her
and gave her something that she could not see, or hear, or smell,
or touch, and it was preserved in a little basket, and by it all
the arts of design and skilled handiwork were imparted to her
descendants.
Notwithstanding all the benefits they enjoyed, there was quarreling
among the people, and the earth-mother was angry. The mountains
that overhung the river at the Cascades were thrown down, and
dammed the stream and destroyed the forests and whole tribes, and
buried them under the rocks. (_MacMurray MS._)
In connection with the wonderful little basket, MacMurray states that
Kotai′aqan presented him with a very ancient drum-shape basket, about
2½ inches in diameter, to give to his wife, in order that she might
likewise be inspired. Concerning the catastrophe indicated in the last
paragraph, he goes on to say:
The Cascade range, where it crosses the Columbia river, exhibits
enormous cross sections of lava, and at its base are petrified
trunks of trees, which have been covered and hidden from view
except where the wash of the mighty stream has exposed them.
Indians have told me, of their knowledge, that, buried deep under
these outpours of basalt, or volcanic tufa, are bones of animals
of _siah_, or the long ago. Traditions of the great landslide at
the Cascades are many, but vary little in form. According to one
account, the mountain tops fell together and formed a kind of
arch, under which the water flowed, until the overhanging rocks
finally fell into the stream and made a dam or gorge. As the rock
is columnar basalt, very friable and easily disintegrated, that
was not impossible, and the landscape suggests some such giant
avalanche. The submerged trees are plainly visible near this
locality. Animal remains I have not seen, but these salmon-eating
Indians have lived on the river’s border through countless
ages, and know every feature in their surroundings by constant
association for generations, and naturally ally these facts with
their religious theories. (_MacMurray MS._)
In an article on “The submerged trees of the Columbia river,” in
Science of February 18, 1887, the geologist, Major Clarence E. Dutton,
also notices the peculiar formation at the Cascades and mentions the
Indian tradition of a natural bridge over the river at this point.
[Illustration: PL. XC
SMOHALLA CHURCH ON YAKIMA RESERVATION]
MacMurray continues:
Coteeakun went on to say that some day Saghalee Tyee would again
overturn the mountains and so expose these bones, which, having
been preserved through so long a time, would be reoccupied by
the spirits which now dwell in the mountain tops, watching their
descendants on earth and waiting for the resurrection to come. The
voices of these spirits of the dead can be heard at all times in
the mountains, and often they answer back when spoken to. Mourners
who wail for their dead hear spirit voices replying, and know they
will always remain near them. No man knows when it will come, and
only those who have observed nature’s laws and adhered to the
faith of their ancestors will have their bones so preserved and be
certain of an earthly tenement for their spirits. He wanted me to
confirm this.
Coteeakun was pacific and gentle. He said all men were as brothers
to him and he hoped all would dwell together. He had been told
that white and black and all other kinds of men originally dwelt
in tents, as the red men always have done, and that God in former
times came to commune with white men. He thought there could be
only one Saghalee Tyee, in which case white and red men would live
on a common plane. We came from one source of life and in time
would “grow from one stem again. It would be like a stick that the
whites held by one end and the Indians by the other until it was
broken, and it would be made again into one stick.”
Some of the wilder Indians to the north have more truculent ideas
as to the final cataclysm which is to reoverturn the mountains
and bring back the halcyon days of the long past. As the whites
and the others came only within the lifetime of the fathers of
these Indians, they are not to be included in the benefits of the
resurrection, but are to be turned over with all that the white
man’s civilization has put upon the present surface of the land.
Coteeakun was for progress—limited progress, it is true—to the
extent of fixed homes and agriculture, but he did not want his
people to go from their villages or to abandon their religious
faith. They were nearly all disposed to work for wages among the
farmers, and had orchards and some domestic animals upon whose
produce they lived, besides the fish from the rivers. Smohalla
opposed anything that pertained to civilization, and had neither
cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, nor chickens, and not a tree or
vegetable was grown anywhere in his vicinage. Kowse (_Peucedanum
cous_), kamas (_Camassia esculenta_), berries, fish, and the game
of the mountains alone furnished food to his people, whom he
advised to resist every advance of civilization as improper for
a true Indian and in violation of the faith of their ancestors.
I found, however, that he was willing to advise his people to
take up lands and adopt the white man’s road, if the government
would pension him as it had pensioned Chief Moses, so that while I
thought he believed in his religion as much as other sectarians do
in theirs, he was tainted by the mercenary desire to live upon his
followers unless otherwise provided for by the government.
From Captain E. L. Huggins, Second cavalry, who visited Smohalla about
the same time, we obtain further information concerning the prophet’s
personality and doctrines. When Smohalla was urged to follow the
example of other Indians who had taken up the white man’s road, he
replied, “No one has any respect for these book Indians. Even the white
men like me better and treat me better than they do the book Indians.
My young men shall never work. Men who work can not dream, and wisdom
comes to us in dreams.”
When it was argued that the whites worked and yet knew more than the
Indians, he replied that the white man’s wisdom was poor and weak and
of no value to Indians, who must learn the highest wisdom from dreams
and from participating in the Dreamer ceremonies. Being pressed to
explain the nature of this higher knowledge, he replied, “Each one must
learn for himself the highest wisdom. It can not be taught. You have
the wisdom of your race. Be content.”
When the officer contended that even the Indians had to work hard
during the fishing season to get food for winter, the prophet answered:
“This work lasts only for a few weeks. Besides it is natural work and
does them no harm. But the work of the white man hardens soul and body.
Nor is it right to tear up and mutilate the earth as white men do.”
To the officer’s assertion that the Indians also dug roots and were
even then digging kamas in the mountains, he replied:
“We simply take the gifts that are freely offered. We no more harm
the earth than would an infant’s fingers harm its mother’s breast.
But the white man tears up large tracts of land, runs deep ditches,
cuts down forests, and changes the whole face of the earth. You know
very well this is not right. Every honest man,” said he, looking at me
searchingly, “knows in his heart that this is all wrong. But the white
men are so greedy they do not consider these things.”
He asserted that the Indians were now so helpless before the white men
that they must cease to exist unless they had assistance from a higher
power, but that if they heeded the sacred message they would receive
strong and sudden help as surely as the spring comes after winter. When
some doubt was expressed as to his own faith in these things, he asked
pointedly:
“Do the white teachers believe what they teach?”
“It is said, Smohalla, that you hate all white men.”
“It is not true. But the whites have caused us great suffering. Dr
Whitman many years ago made a long journey to the east to get a bottle
of poison for us. He was gone about a year, and after he came back
strong and terrible diseases broke out among us. The Indians killed Dr
Whitman, but it was too late. He had uncorked his bottle and all the
air was poisoned. Before that there was little sickness among us, but
since then many of us have died. I have had children and grandchildren,
but they are all dead. My last grandchild, a young woman of 16, died
last month. If only her infant could have lived”—his voice faltered
slightly, but with scarcely a pause he continued in his former tone, “I
labored hard to save them, but my medicine would not work as it used
to.”
He repelled the idea that the Indians had profited by the coming of the
whites, and especially denied that they had obtained ponies from this
source. His statement on this point may be of interest to those who
hold that the horse is indigenous to America:
“What! The white man gave us ponies? Oh, no; we had ponies long before
we ever saw white people. The Great Spirit gave them to us. Our horses
were swifter and more enduring, too, in those days, before they were
mixed with the white man’s horses.”
He went on to tell how the Indians had befriended the first explorers
who came among them and how ungrateful had been their later recompense,
and said: “We are now so few and weak that we can offer no resistance,
and their preachers have persuaded them to let a few of us live, so as
to claim credit with the Great Spirit for being generous and humane.
But they begrudge us what little grass our ponies eat.” At parting he
repeated earnestly, “If they tell you Smohalla hates all white people,
do not believe it.” (_Huggins, 2._)
* * * * *
Our knowledge of the Smohalla ritual is derived from the account
given by Major MacMurray and from the statements of Yakima and Pälus
informants. The officer’s account is that of an intelligent observer,
who noted ceremonies closely, but without fully comprehending their
meaning. The Indian account is that of initiates and true believers,
one of them being the regular interpreter of the Smohalla services on
Yakima reservation.
The officer had already seen the ceremonial performances at the Indian
villages at Celilo and Umatilla in Oregon, at Tumwater and Yakima gap
in Washington, but found its greatest development at the fountain
head, the home of Smohalla at Priest rapids. His account is so full of
interest that we give it almost in its entirety.
While still several miles away, his party discovered the village,
the houses extending along the bank of the river, with several flags
attached to long poles fluttering in the wind. The trail from the
mountains was winding and difficult, but at last—
We reached the plain and were met by a procession, headed by
Smohalla in person, all attired in gorgeous array and mounted on
their best chargers. We wended our way through sagebrush and sand
dunes to the village street, not a soul being visible, but from the
mat-roofed salmon houses there came forth the most indescribable
chorus of bell ringing, drum beating, and screeching. I noticed
that the street was neatly swept and well sprinkled—an unusual
thing in any Indian village. This, Smohalla said, was in my honor
and to show that his people had cleanly tastes. Our procession
passed on beyond the village to a new canvas tent, which had a
brush shade to keep off the sun and was lined and carpeted with
new and very pretty matting. Smohalla said this had been prepared
especially for me, and was to be my house as long as I should stay
with him. To cap the climax, he had constructed a bench for me,
having sent more than 90 miles for the nails. Fresh salmon, caught
in a peculiar trap among the rocks and broiled on a plank, were
regularly furnished my party, and with hard tack and coffee of our
own supplying we got enough to eat and drink. Our own blankets
furnished sleeping conveniences. The river was within two yards of
our tent door and was an ample lavatory.
When I awoke the next morning, the sound of drums was again heard,
and for days it continued. I do not remember that there was any
intermission except for a few minutes at a time. Seven bass drums
were used for the purpose. I was invited to be present, and took
great interest in the ceremonies, which I shall endeavor to
describe.
There was a small open space to the north of the larger house,
which was Smohalla’s residence and the village assembly room as
well. This space was inclosed by a whitewashed fence made of
boards which had drifted down the river. In the middle was a
flagstaff with a rectangular flag, suggesting a target. In the
center of the flag was a round red patch. The field was yellow,
representing grass, which is there of a yellow hue in summer. A
green border indicated the boundary of the world, the hills being
moist and green near their tops. At the top of the flag was a small
extension of blue color, with a white star in the center. Smohalla
explained: “This is my flag, and it represents the world. God
told me to look after my people—all are my people. There are four
ways in the world—north and south and east and west. I have been
all those ways. This is the center. I live here. The red spot is
my heart—everybody can see it. The yellow grass grows everywhere
around this place. The green mountains are far away all around the
world. There is only water beyond, salt water. The blue [referring
to the blue cloth strip] is the sky, and the star is the north
star. That star never changes; it is always in the same place. I
keep my heart on that star. I never change.”
There are frequent services, a sort of processional around the
outside of the fence, the prophet and a small boy with a bell
entering the inclosure, where, after hoisting the flag, he delivers
a sort of sermon. Captains or class leaders give instructions to
the people, who are arranged according to stature, the men and
women in different classes marching in single file to the sound of
drums. There seems to be a regular system of signals, at command
of the prophet, by the boy with the bell, upon which the people
chant loud or low, quick or slow, or remain silent. These outdoor
services occurred several times each day.
[Illustration: +Fig. 64+—Smohalla’s flag (heraldic).]
Smohalla invited me to participate in what he considered a grand
ceremonial service within the larger house. This house was built
with a framework of stout logs placed upright in the ground and
roofed over with brush, or with canvas in rainy weather. The sides
consisted of bark and rush matting. It was about 75 feet long by
25 feet wide. Singing and drumming had been going on for some time
when I arrived. The air resounded with the voices of hundreds of
Indians, male and female, and the banging of drums. Within, the
room was dimly lighted. Smoke curled from a fire on the floor at
the farther end and pervaded the atmosphere. The ceiling was hung
with hundreds of salmon, split and drying in the smoke.
The scene was a strange one. On either side of the room was a
row of twelve women standing erect with arms crossed and hands
extended, with finger tips at the shoulders. They kept time to the
drums and their voices by balancing on the balls of their feet and
tapping with their heels on the floor, while they chanted with
varying pitch and time. The excitement and persistent repetition
wore them out, and I heard that others than Smohalla had seen
visions in their trances, but I saw none who would admit it or
explain anything of it. I fancied they feared their own action, and
that real death might come to them in this simulated death.
Those on the right hand were dressed in garments of a red color
with an attempt at uniformity. Those on the left wore costumes of
white buckskin, said to be very ancient ceremonial costumes, with
red and blue trimmings. All wore large round silver plates or such
other glittering ornaments as they possessed. A canvas covered the
floor and on it knelt the men and boys in lines of seven. Each
seven, as a rule, had shirts of the same color. The tallest were
in front, the size diminishing regularly to the rear. Children and
ancient hags filled in any spare space. In front on a mattress
knelt Smohalla, his left hand covering his heart. On his right
was the boy bell ringer in similar posture. Smohalla wore a white
garment which he was pleased to call a priest’s gown, but it was
simply a white cloth shirt with a colored stripe down the back.
[Illustration: PL. XCI
INTERIOR OF SMOHALLA CHURCH]
I and my two assistants were seated on a mattress about 10 feet in
front of the prophet, which fortunately placed us near the door
and incidentally near fresh air. There were two other witnesses,
Indians from distant villages, who sat at one side with Smohalla’s
son looking on.
Smohalla’s son was said to be in training as his successor. He was
a young man, apparently about 23 years old, tall, slender, and
active in movement, and commonly kept himself apart from the body
of the people. He was much darker than his father. His dress was
brilliant in style and color. He ordinarily wore a short gown or
surplice, sometimes yellow and at other times sky blue, with ornate
decorations of stars or moons appliqué, cut from bright-colored
cloths. The sleeves were extravagantly trimmed with beads and
silver ornaments. He knelt at the right of the group as the place
of honor. On his left was Coteeakun, the head man of the Indian
village at Union gap, on the Yakima reservation. The third man was
Coteeakun’s brother, a most intelligent and progressive Indian.
(_MacMurray MS._)
From Charles Ike, an intelligent half-blood interpreter on Yakima
reservation, who is also the regular interpreter of the Smohalla
ritual services at the Yakima village of Paʾkiut, we obtain additional
interesting details concerning the ceremony as there performed, with
the underlying religious teachings.
As at present taught, the religion finds adherents among probably all
the tribes along the Columbia from near the British border down to
the Wushqûm tribe at The Dalles, with the exception, perhaps, of the
Klikatat, who are nearly all Catholics. The two chief centers are at
Pʿnä or Priest rapids, where Smohalla in person regularly preaches to
about 120 hearers, and at Paʾkiut, at Union gap on Yakima reservation,
where, until his death a short time ago, Tianä′ni has regularly
conducted the services for about 300 of his tribe. At each place is a
church or meeting-house built as already described.