[Illustration: FIG. 8—Dried flower necklace.]
The most prominent personal possession is the pelican-skin robe; it
is usually made of six skins, slightly dressed and in full plumage,
sewed together with sinew in a conventional pattern of such sort as
to give the greatest possible expanse consistent with the irregular
outlines of the individual skins, and at the same time to display a
conventional color pattern on the feathered side, the colors ranging
from the dorsal slate to the ventral white of the fowl (as indicated
in plate XXIII); sometimes there are only four skins and rarely there
are eight, but the conventional arrangement is maintained. Before the
beginning of a fairly regular barter at Rancho de Costa Rica, and hence
before the introduction of manta and other stuffs, the pelican-skin
robes were supplemented by kilts made of mesquite root or other fibers,
spun and twisted in the fingers and woven probably on some primitive
device no longer in use; but so far as is known these native fabrics
were devoid of decorative patterns in color or weave. Less habitually
a short wammus or shirt, with long sleeves, made of a material similar
to that of the kilt, was worn; but it, too, was without ornamentation,
so far as can be ascertained. The remaining article of utilitarian
apparel is the belt, usually consisting of a strip of skin (of deer,
rabbit, peccary, etc.), slightly dressed with the hair on; frequently
this is replaced by a cord or braided band of human hair, while the
favorite belt of some of the young warriors is a snake skin (such as
that illustrated in figure 7); but so far as was seen the belts are not
extended into tassels, decorative appendages, or even flowing ends.
[Illustration: FIG. 9—Seed necklace.]
[Illustration: FIG. 10—Nut pendants.]
[Illustration: FIG. 11—Shell beads.]
[Illustration: FIG. 12—Wooden beads.]
The presumptively decorative costumery observed is limited to
necklaces, usually of strung seeds, shells, and beads of wood or bone
(figures 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13), though animal appendages, such as
hoofs, teeth, etc., are sometimes worn. The most highly prized necklace
found at Costa Rica was a human-hair cord with nine crotalus rattles
attached (figure 14), worn by a young warrior of the Rattlesnake (?)
clan. Not the slightest indication of headdresses was seen (though
deer and lion masks are said by Hardy to have been worn on occasions);
there were no bracelets, leg-bands, or rings of any description, and
the cheap jewelry given to many of the women and youths at Costa Rica
was either strung about the neck or concealed; while it is significant
that even the showiest jewelry was less appreciated than bits of manta
or lumps of sugar. When it is remembered that the Seri have been in
occasional contact with Caucasians for over three and a half centuries,
the fact that not a single glass bead was found among them becomes
significant; and the significance of the simple fact is increased by
the virtual absence of that persistent desire and protean use for
beads—or bead-sense—so prominent among most primitive tribes.
[Illustration: FIG. 13—Necklace of wooden beads.]
Naturally the conditions at Costa Rica were unfavorable to the study
of native ideas concerning apparel. The women and some of the children
were arrayed chiefly in cast-off habiliments of the rancheras or in
nondescript rags, while the men either aped Mexican fashions, like
Mashém, or shamefacedly sweltered under the unaccustomed burden of
tatterdemalion gear; yet there was a meaningful absence of that desire
for finery so prominent among primitive peoples—a fact quite as
eloquent in itself as the absence of bracelets and bangles, tassels and
trappings. It is probable that the shamans and mystery-hedged crones in
the depths of Seriland enhance their influence by the aid of symbolic
paraphernalia (indeed, some inkling of such customs is found in the
meager records of earlier visitors);[263] yet the conspicuous feature
of Seri costumery is the dearth of decorative devices.
[263] Hardy noted the use of “a small leathern bag, painted and
otherwise ornamented”, as a medicine rattle (Travels, p. 282), and also
described a wind-symbol and an effigy used for thaumaturgic purposes
(ibid., pp. 294, 295).
The habitations of the tribe are the simplest of jacales—mere bowers,
affording partial protection from sun and wind, but not designed
to shed rain or bar cold. Half a dozen of these were examined at
Costa Rica in 1894 and probably a hundred more, in various stages of
habitability, in Seriland proper in 1895, yet not the slightest trace
of decoration was observed—the structures are plainly and barrenly
utilitarian in every feature. The same may be said of the balsas
in which the Seri navigate their stormy waters; for the peculiarly
graceful curves of the craft evidently stand for nothing more than
the mechanical solution of a complex problem in balanced forces,
wrought out through the experience of generations, while the simple
reed bundles are absolutely devoid of paint, of superfluous cord, of
fetishistic appendages or markings, of tritons, nereids, or other
votive symbols at bow or stern, and of industrially superfluous
features or attachments in general—indeed, the only appendages
discovered were one or two simple wooden marlinspikes (shown in figure
26), thrust among the reeds to be at hand in case of need for repairs.
[Illustration: FIG. 14—Rattlesnake necklace.]
Among the utensils employed in the primitive householdry of the Seri
the most conspicuous and at the same time the most essential is the
olla, or water-jar. Its technical features are described elsewhere; but
it may here be noted that the olla is the central artifact about which
the very life of the tribe rotates: since the clans never reside and
rarely camp nearer than 3 to 15 miles from the aguaje, a large part
of the water consumed must be transported great distances in these
vessels; since the region is one of extreme aridity, the lives of small
parties often depend on the integrity of the olla and on the care
with which the fragile vessel is protected from shock or overturning;
and hence the utensil must occupy a large if not a dominant place
in everyday thought—indeed, the fact that it does so is attested by
constant custom and also by its employment as the most conspicuous
among the mortuary sacrifices. Thus, the relation of the Seri olla
to its makers and users is parallel with that of the ever-present
earthen pot to the Pueblo people, or that of the cooking basket to
the acorn-eaters of California, save that its relative importance
is enhanced by the fewness of activital lines and motives in Seri
life. Moreover, this most characteristic utensil is established and
hallowed in Seri thought by immemorial associations: its sherds are
sown over the hundred thousand square miles of ancient “despoblado”
from Tiburon to Caborca, Magdalena, Rio Opodepe, and Cerro Prieto, and
are scattered through the 90 feet of shells forming Punta Antigualla
(perhaps the oldest shell mound of America); and all the sherds from
the range and the shell-strata are so like and so different from any
other fictile ware as to be distinguished at a glance. Hence it would
seem manifest that the Seri olla must constitute a normal nucleus for
the Seri esthetic; yet even here the field is practically barren, as
is shown by the study of a score of usable and mortuary specimens and
of thousands of sherds. The most ornate specimen seen is that depicted
in plate XXXII. Its form, like that of the balsa, is a mechanical
equation of forces and materials; its body-color is that of the clay,
blotched and blackened irregularly by the smoke of the firing; and its
decoration is limited to 17 faint lines or bands radiating downward
from the ill-shaped neck. The radial bands were evidently drawn by a
finger dipped in clayey water after the vessel was otherwise finished
for the firing; they are irregular in placement, width, length, and
direction; they generally run in pairs, two straight lines alternating
with two zigzag lines, though the circuit is completed by two zigzags
drawn wide apart and separated by a single straight line. The meaning
of the device (if meaning there be) was not directly ascertained;
but it is suggestive that its maker and owner was the mother of the
youthful warrior from whom the rattlesnake necklace was obtained (her
face-symbol is that shown in the lower left figure of plate XXVI), and
that the vessel was surrendered more reluctantly than any other article
obtained from the tribe.
Another utensil of some importance to the tribe is a basket of the
type illustrated in figure 24. It is manufactured with much skill and
is used for various domestic purposes, being practically water-tight
and unbreakable, and materially lighter than even the unparalleledly
light fictile ware of the Seri. In form and size and weave the half
dozen examples seen correspond with widespread southwestern types; yet
it is noteworthy that while otherwise similar baskets are habitually
decorated by other basket-making tribes, the Seri specimens were
absolutely devoid of decorative devices.
Practically the only remaining artifacts available for decoration are
those connected with archery; and it suffices to say that while the
bows are skilfully made and the arrows constructed with exceeding
pains, not a single specimen seen showed the slightest trace of
symbolism or of nonutilitarian motive.
* * * * *
Summarily, the Seri are characterized by extreme esthetic poverty. This
has been noted by the early missionaries and by the few other travelers
who have approached their haunts, as well as by the vaqueros on the
Encinas and Serna and other ranchos bordering their range, who know
them as “los pobrecitos”. All observers have been struck with their
destitution and squalor; yet when the impressions are particularized
they are seen to denote absence of the poor luxuries, rather than the
bare necessities, of primitive life. The people are pathetically poor
in the industrial sense; their equipment in artifacts—implements,
weapons, utensils, habitations, apparel—is meager almost, if not quite,
beyond parallel in America; yet their esthetic equipment, practically
limited as it is to a single line of symbolic portrayal, is still more
abjectly meager.
Any comparison of the Seri esthetic with that of other Amerind tribes
serves only to emphasize its paucity: the tribes of the plains, with
their eagle-feather headdresses, elaborately arranged scalp-locks,
widely varied face-painting, and ritualistic camp circles; the Pueblo
peoples, with their ornate masks, elaborate altars, figured stuffs,
and painted pottery; the denizens of the eastern woods, with their
feather-decked peace-pipes, divinatory games, fringe-bordered garments,
and prayer-inscribed arrows; the coastwise peoples of the upper
Pacific, with their labrets and tattoo-marks, totem-poles and carved
house-fronts, painted canoes and prodigal potlatches; the neighboring
desert tribes, with their festal footraces, decorated pottery and
basketry, pendent scarfs and garters, and well-wrought caskets for
family fetishes; even the timid acorn-eaters of California, with their
sacramental baskets, artistically befringed kilts, bead-strings of
far-traveled nacre, and patiently wrought fabrics of rare feathers—all
of these seem rich in esthetic motives when contrasted with “los
pobrecitos” of arid Seriland. And the contrast is only intensified
when the economic motives of the various tribes are compared: the
industrial motives of the Seri are fairly numerous and diverse; they
are skilful huntsmen, successful fishermen, capable navigators, and
competent warriors (as attested by the protection of their principality
for centuries), so that despite the absence of agriculture and the
avoidance of commerce, their industrial range is not very far below
the aboriginal average; and while they are deficient in thrift, this
shortcoming is balanced by a peculiarly developed vital economy whereby
they are delicately adjusted to their environment, as has been already
shown. On the whole, it would appear that the Seri are not only lower
in esthetic development than the contemporary tribes thus far studied,
but also that they stand at the bottom of the scale in the ratio of
esthetic to industrial motives.