Navajo blanket spread over it. The tiny sheet was laid on the
doctress’s lap under the child. The writer was then requested to rise
and receive the child; and as she held the little one wrapped in the
sheet the grandfather offered a prayer of thanksgiving, and after
sprinkling meal upon the writer gave her a pinch of it. She could
not dream what was expected of her, but she ventured to make four
lines on the child’s breast, and sprinkled the remainder of the meal
to the east. The venture was a happy one, for it was just right. The
grandfather said: “The child is yours; I make it a gift to you.” The
writer then returned the child to the doctress, and the grandfather
proceeded to arrange the cradle, which has a transverse ridge, provided
with a niche for the neck. Two bits of calico, folded several times,
were laid on the blanket, and on this a piece of white cotton. The
infant was placed nude upon its bed, and a piece of white cotton was
laid over it from the neck to the lower part of the abdomen, extending
on either side of the body and passing under the arms, the ends of the
cloth being folded over the arms and tucked in on the inner sides. The
little sheet was laid over the child, and the blanket folded around
it; and then it was strapped to the cradle, which was deposited to the
left side of the mother, on a white sheepskin. The ear of corn which
had been such an important element previous to the birth was laid by
the right side of the child. The grandfather, taking his seat at the
foot of the cradle, deposited before him the three medicine bags which
had been used in the ritual previous to the birth, and, holding his
eagle plumes in his right hand, repeated a prayer. Two loosely twisted
cords of native cotton, which had been prepared by the father of the
infant immediately after the birth of the child, were placed under
the mother’s pillow, to her right side; these were afterwards tied
around the ankles of the infant, to indicate that it was a child of
Sûs´sĭstinnako and that it might know this father. After the prayer the
grandfather touched the head, either side and foot of the cradle, and
the child’s body, with a spear point of obsidian; this was repeated
four times for strength of body, limbs, heart, and mind of the child;
and the spear was passed over the mother’s limbs and body for the same
purpose. The grandfather then gave the child its first food by placing
in his own mouth a pinch of a specially sacred and valuable medicine
composed of the pollen of medicinal and edible plants and transferring
it into the infant’s mouth from his. He then placed a bit with his
fingers in the mother’s mouth. The medicine was given to the child that
he might know all the medicines of the earth, and to the mother that
her milk which was to nourish the infant might be good, so that the
child’s heart and mind would be good.
No attention was given to the woman by the doctress for two hours
after the birth, when a fresh gown was put on, the gown being changed
every morning and evening for four days, the one worn in the evening
having been washed and dried the same day. The sheepskin on the bed
was changed daily. About 9 o’clock a. m. the grandmother prepared a
bowl of tea made from freshly gathered cedar twigs steeped in water,
and the woman drank two gourdfuls. This tea is constantly drunk for a
designated period, which differs with different clans; some drinking it
regularly for four months, others taking it but three, and some only
two months. No water is drunk during the time this liquid is used,
and continency is observed for the two, three, or four months; the
husband, however, sleeps during this time in the same room, and in this
particular case the husband slept by his wife’s side. Should a woman
break the continency, an animal would enter her abdomen and she would
surely die, for so said the first mother of her clan.
After the first draft of the tea the woman ate a hearty breakfast of
tortillas, jerked meat, and corn-meal gruel. Her female relatives and
friends called to see her and the baby during the day, and she chatted
as merrily as if nothing had happened.
The Sia infant is nourished regularly from the time it is born; and in
this particular case the infant was nursed by a woman whose child was
three months old, until the third morning, when the mother took it in
charge. Though the door of the room could not be left open until the
child should have passed out the fourth morning to see its sun father,
and the two small windows being stationary, the most fastidious could
have found no fault with the purity of the atmosphere. The father
of the woman scarcely left her during the four days. He sat by her
bed-side, weaving garters, and showing her the tenderest care, and her
mother did little else than look after the wants of the invalid and
infant and admire and caress the latter. The woman’s husband was absent
all day working in the fields, but upon his return in the evening he
could be found by his wife’s side admiring the baby and saying pleasing
words to the woman of his choice. The family all slept in the same room
as usual with the addition the first two nights of the woman engaged to
furnish nourishment to the child, who also had her infant with her.
By half past 4 on the fourth morning the woman had donned her woolen
dress and belt and sat upon the bed awaiting the arrival of the
doctress, who soon came, and after a greeting handed ashes from the
fireplace to the woman, who receiving the ashes in her right hand
rubbed her legs and breast for purification, and then put on her
moccasins. The grandmother took the infant from the cradle and wrapping
it in its blanket handed it to the doctress, while the father of the
woman gave her the two stone fetiches from under her pillow, which
she placed in her bosom. The doctress then took from the fireplace a
bit of charcoal and put it into the woman’s mouth that the cold winds
might not enter through her mouth and congeal her blood and prevent
its flow, for should this occur the woman would surely die. The father
then handed sacred meal to his daughter and the doctress, and again
helping himself he gave some to the writer. The doctress led the way,
carrying the infant in her arms and pressing to its breast the ear
of corn which had played such an important part during parturition,
and had since lain by the side of the child; the woman followed, also
carrying an ear of corn, a companion of the first ear (everything
associated with life must have its dual, and “corn is life itself, for
it comes from the heart of Ût´sĕt; were it not for the mother corn none
could live.” These two ears of corn are afterwards wrapped together and
laid under the child’s cradle, where they must remain until the next
corn-planting time, when it is sown in two or four rows, apart from
the main field, and when ripe it is eaten by the child, who takes the
nourishment of the mother corn as it draws the milk from its mother’s
breast). The writer followed after the woman and, passing a few feet
to the right of the entrance after leaving the house, they stood while
the grandfather went from the door directly to the eastern gateway of
his placita and stood facing east, where he was joined by the others,
the doctress leading the way; she stooped at his right. The father of
the infant was not present any of the time and the grandmother did not
leave the house. The grandfather prayed and sprinkled meal to the east
(Pl. XXXIII); the mother then whispered a short prayer and
sprinkled meal to the same point; the doctress afterward stooping until
she almost sat upon the ground bared the child’s head as she held it
toward the rising sun and repeated a long prayer, and addressing the
child she said, “I bring you to see your sun father and Ko´pîshtaia
that you may know them and they you.” At the close of the prayer she
led the way to the house, and upon entering the woman sat on her bed
with her legs extended and received the infant from the doctress, who
laid the child across the mother’s arms with its head to the east; the
doctress then laying the ear of corn lengthwise on the child’s breast
requested the writer to hold the corn with her. The grandmother and the
two boys stood to the left of the woman while the grandfather standing
at the feet of the child offered a prayer. The doctress then repeated
the long baptismal prayer, naming the child.[28]
[Illustration: Bureau of Ethnology Eleventh Annual Report Plate XXXIV
GAST LITH. CO. N.Y.
PERSONAL ADORNMENT WHEN RECEIVED INTO THE THIRD DEGREE OF OFFICIAL
MEMBERSHIP CULT, SOCIETY.]
She then placed the infant in the writer’s arms, saying, “The child
is named; it is yours.” When the child was returned to her she washed
its head in yucca suds, and bathed its body by again filling her mouth
with water and spirting it over the child. It was afterwards rubbed
with ashes, especially about its face, and the doctress gave it some
warm water to drink by dipping her fingers into the vase and letting
the drops fall from them into the infant’s mouth; the child smacked its
lips in evident satisfaction; and it was then strapped to the cradle
which was handed the doctress by the grandmother; and the child in the
cradle was placed on the mother’s lap, and she proceeded to nourish it.
The grandfather brought an Apache basket containing a pyramid of meal
and held it to the infant’s face, then to the mother’s, who blew upon
the meal. The grandmother then blew upon it (that it might be blessed
with the best thoughts of the breath of life) and, stooping, the
grandfather held the basket with both hands while the doctress (Fig.
19) held it on the opposite side with her two hands, the grandfather
whispering a prayer and then retiring to the far end of the room. The
doctress offered a silent prayer, and left the room without farther
ceremony, carrying the basket of meal, which was a gift to her from
the infant, it being her only compensation for her services. The
mother of the infant ate heartily and at half past seven in the
morning she walked fully 200 yards from the house down a declivity,
and on her return to the house was bathed for the first time since her
confinement, she herself doing the bathing.
Fig. 20 is the copy of a photograph of the infant the fourth morning
after birth.
The lochial discharge ceased after the fourth day, and from this time
until the expiration of the nine days but one fresh gown was worn each
day. The infant was bathed each of the first four mornings by the
doctress, and afterwards by the grandmother until the tenth morning,
when the mother bathed the child. The infant’s bed was changed several
times daily, the bedding being put upon the cradle a couple of hours
after washing. The night of the fourth day the doctress came about
9 o’clock and bathed the child; the ashes which had been applied to
the child from its birth after each bath not being omitted. The fifth
day the skin of the infant showed evidence of exfoliation, and the
grandfather remarked, “When the new skin comes then all will be well.”
The sixth day the remnant of the umbilical cord was removed by lifting
the raw cotton, and a finely powdered pigment of bluish-gray color was
rubbed upon the umbilicus and a cotton cloth laid over it. When there
is any appearance of suppuration the mother milks a few drops from her
breast upon the umbilicus and applies fresh pigment.
[Illustration: FIG. 20.—Mother with her infant four days old.]
Prof. F. W. Clark furnishes the following analysis of this pigment: “A
slight amount is soluble in water, this consisting of sulphates of
lime and magnesia. The main portion consists of a mixture of a hydrous
carbonate of copper (presumably malachite) with a ferruginous sand. The
copper mineral dissolves readily in dilute acids and, in addition to
the copper, contains traces of iron and of phosphoric acid. Probably an
impure malachite pulverized.”
Though the woman is considered an invalid and exempt from all household
duties until the tenth morning after childbirth, she passes in and out
of the house after the fourth morning and occupies herself sewing, not
more than half of her time being spent in a reclining position.
The greatest attention was shown this woman and her child by her
father, mother, and husband, the two men performing the most menial
services for her and frequently waiting upon the infant.
MORTUARY BELIEFS AND CUSTOMS.
It was stated in a previous chapter that the Sia do not believe in
a return of the spirits of their dead when they have once entered
Shipapo. There was once, however, an exception to this. The story is
here given in the theurgist’s own words:
“When the years were new and this village had been built perhaps
three years, all the spirits of our dead came here for a great
feast. They had bodies such as they had before death; wives
recognized husbands, husbands wives, children parents, and parents
children. Just after sundown the spirits began arriving, only a
few passing over the road by daylight, but after dark they came in
great crowds and remained until near dawn. They tarried but one
night; husbands and wives did not sleep together; had they done so
the living would have surely died. When the hour of separation came
there was much weeping, not only among the living but the dead. The
living insisted upon going with the dead, but the dead declared
they must wait; that they could not pass through the entrance to
the other world; they must first die or grow old and again become
little children to be able to pass through the door of the world
for the departed. It was then that the Sia first learned all about
their future home. They learned that the fields were vast, the
pastures beautiful, the mountains high, the lakes and rivers clear
like crystals, and the wheat and cornfields flourishing. During the
day the spirits sleep, and at night they work industriously in the
fields. The moon is father to the dead as the sun is father to the
living; the dead resting when the sun travels, for at this time
they see nothing; it is when the sun returns to his home at night
that the departed spirits work and pass about in their world below.
The home of the departed spirits is in the world first inhabited by
the Sia.”
It is the aim of the Sia to first reach the intermediate state at the
time the body ceases to develop and then return gradually back to
the first condition of infancy; at such period one does not die, but
sleeps to awake in the spirit world as a little child. Many stories
have come to the Sia by those who have died only for a time; the heart
becomes still and the lips cold and the spirit passes to the entrance
of the other world and looks in, but it does not enter, and yet it sees
all, and in a short time returns to inhabit its earthly body. Great
alarm is felt when one returns in this way to life, but much faith is
put in the stories afterwards told by the one who has passed over the
road of death.
A ho´naaite holds a corresponding position in the spirit world.
When a death occurs any time before sundown, the body is buried as
soon as it can be prepared for the grave; but if one dies after dark
the body must not be touched until after sunrise, when it is bathed
and buried as soon as possible. It is usual for an elderly woman of
the clan to bathe the body, cold water being used; the head is washed
first in yucca suds. Sometimes, however, this method is deviated from,
if the remaining wife or husband has a special friend in some other
clan. In the case of a man the breechcloth he has worn during his last
illness is not removed. The immediate relatives in consanguinity and
clan are present during the bathing and make the air hideous with their
lamentations. The body is bathed on the bed upon which the party dies
and here it remains until burial. The mourners are seated around the
room, no one being near the bed but the woman who prepares the body for
burial. If the corpse be a female, after the body is bathed a blanket
is laid across the abdomen and limbs and tucked in on either side, the
upper portion of the body being exposed.
The official members of the cult societies are painted after death,
just as they were at their initiation into the society, the body
having been previously bathed. The one exception to this rule—being
the ho´naaite of warriors (Pl. XXXIV)—will show the change.
The painting is done by the ho´naaite or vicar of the society to which
the deceased belonged. Corn pollen is sprinkled on the head. Female
officials have only their faces painted. When a man is not an official,
neither his face nor body is painted, but as each man or woman of his
clan looks upon the body a bit of corn pollen is sprinkled in a line
under each eye and on the top of the head. While the body is being
prepared for burial, the relatives who are present, amid lamentations,
cut the apparel of the corpse, including his blankets, into strips and
all is laid upon the body. After the body has been placed upon the
blanket which is to wrap it for burial, if it be a man the wife places
a quantity of food under the left arm, the arms hanging straight by
the sides. If the wife does not perform this office then some member
of his clan acts in her place. In the case of the death of a woman a
member of her clan places the food. Again a small quantity of food is
placed under the left arm by the man who principally officiates in
the wrapping of the body. This is sometimes done by the son of the
deceased. The blanket is first folded over one side of the body and
then the other; then the end next to the head is caught together just
above the head and tied some little distance from the end, tassel
fashion, with a rope. The rope is fastened around the throat of the
corpse and then continued around the body to the feet, and the blanket
is tied below the feet to correspond with the head. Two men perform
this service and alone carry the body to the grave and bury it without
further ceremony, though the wailing and weeping is kept up in the
house for a considerable time.
If a husband dies the wife is bathed after the burial by a female
member of her clan. This is done that the one remaining may be cleansed
of much of her sorrow and be only a little sad. When a wife dies the
husband is bathed by a female member of his clan. The bathing of the
remaining husband or wife in Zuñi is done for a very different reason.
When a child dies both the paternal and maternal parents are bathed;
but children are not bathed when a parent dies.
The fourth day after death, when the spirit starts on its journey to
the lower world, after hovering around the pueblo in the meantime, a
ceremonial is held by the society to which deceased belonged. If the
person was not a member of one of the cult societies the family select
the ho´naaite they wish to have perform the ceremony. A hä´chamoni
which was made on the third day by the theurgist is deposited on the
north road for the spirit to carry to its future home. A vase of food
is deposited at this time to feed the spirit on its journey, and if
any other pieces of clothing have been found they are cut and thrown
over the north road. The clothing must never be deposited whole as the
spirit of the clothing could not leave the body if it was in perfect
condition.
The road to the lower world, which is to the north (the dead returning
to the world whence they came), is so crowded that the spirits are
often in each other’s way, for not only the spirits of the Sia pass
over this road but the spirits of all Indians. The spirits of the dead
are traveling to their first home and the unborn spirits are passing to
the villages in which, after a time, they are to be born.
Upon reaching the entrance to the lower world a spirit is met by two
guards to the entrance, who say to them, “So you have come here,”
and the spirit replies, “Yes.” “Where is your credential?” inquires
the chief guard, and the spirit shows his hä´chamoni, and the guard
says, upon examining it, “Yes, here is your hä´chamoni to your
mother, Sûs´sĭstinnako, that she may know you came promptly over the
straight road; she will be pleased.” If the spirit be not provided
with hä´chamoni it can not enter the lower world, but must roam about
somewhere in the north. After examining the hä´chamoni, the guard says,
“You may enter Shipapo and go to your mother in the lower world.” The
first one met by the spirit in the lower world is Ût´sĕt, who says,
“You have come from the other world?” and the spirit replies, “Yes.”
Then Ût´sĕt says, “You bring a hä´chamoni?” and the spirit replies,
“Yes.” “Let me see your hä´chamoni,” and, after carefully looking
over it, she hands it to Sûs´sĭstinnako, who says, “Good! good!” and,
pointing to the dead relatives of the newly arrived spirit, she adds,
“There, my child, are your relatives; go join them and be happy.” When
one has been very wicked in this world he is not permitted to enter the
lower world even though he has a hä´chamoni. The guards at the entrance
can read all hearts and minds, and they put such spirits into a great
fire which burns in the earth below somewhere not far distant from
Shipapo. The spirit is burned to death in this fire and can never know
anything, as it is entirely destroyed. When ti´ämonis and ho´naaites
have performed their duties in this world with unwilling hearts, it is
known to the mother in the lower world, and when such men enter after
death they are made to live apart, and alone, and without nourishment
for a certain period of time, depending upon the amount of purification
required. Some sit alone for two years; others for five, and some for
ten before the mother considers them worthy to enter into peace.
The spirits of all animals go to the lower world; domestic animals
serving the masters there as they did here. The masters would not
always recognize them, but Sûs´sĭstinnako knows the property of all.
The spirits of the prey animals return, and know their friends, in
the lower world. A hä´chamoni is made for the prey animal when he is
killed, and a dance and ceremonial are held. The animal carries the
hä´chamoni as his credential just as the spirit of the man does.
The cloud people never die; that is, no one, not even the oldest men’s
grandfathers ever knew of or saw a cloud person die.
MYTHS.
The writer gave but limited study while at Sia to myths not directly
connected with their cosmogony and cult. The minds of several of the
elder men are filled with the stories of the long-ago myth-makers, and
they believe in the truth of these fables as they believe in their own
existence, which is the cause, no doubt, for the absence of myth-making
at the present time. It must be borne in mind, however, that these
people have their winter tales and romances which they recognize as
fiction. The animal myths here recorded were recited to the writer in a
most dramatic manner by the vicar of the Snake Society, these portions
of the stories where the coyote suffers disappointment, and is cheated
of his prey, giving special delight to the narrator.
The coyote seems to be a despised though necessary object in the mythic
world of the Indian of the Southwest. He is certainly not reverenced,
nor is he a being for whom they feel terror. While he is the object
of ridicule he is also often of great service. Through his cunning
he supplied the Sia of the upper world with fire by stealing it from
Sûs´sĭstinnako in the lower world. When the world was new, people
were depilous except upon their heads. The coyote said (animals could
communicate with men then): “It is not well for you to be depilous,”
and from the pilous growth about his mouth and belly he clothed the
pubes and axilla of the Sia.
[Illustration: Bureau of Ethnology Eleventh Annual Report Plate XXXV
GAST LITH. CO. N.Y.
CEREMONIAL WATER VASES—SIA.]
THE COYOTE ENCOUNTERS DISAPPOINTMENTS.