CHAPTER XII

THE GROWTH OF A PRIMITIVE RELIGION

150. Regional variation of culture.—151. Plains, Southwest,

Northwest areas.—152. California and its sub-areas.—153. The

shaping of a problem.—154. Girls’ Adolescence Rite.—155. The

First Period.—156. The Second Period: Mourning Anniversary and

First-salmon rite.—157. Era of regional differentiation.—158.

Third and Fourth Periods in Central California: Kuksu and

Hesi.—159. Third and Fourth Periods in Southern California:

Jimsonweed and Chungichnish.—160. Third and Fourth Periods

on the Lower Colorado: Dream Singing.—161. Northwestern

California: world-renewal and wealth display.—162. Summary

of religious development.—163. Other phases of culture.—164.

Outline of the culture history of California.—165. The question

of dating.—166. The evidence of archæology.—167. Age of the

shellmounds.—168. General serviceability of the method.

150. REGIONAL VARIATION OF CULTURE

As one first becomes acquainted with a totally strange people spread over

a large area, such as the Indians of North America, they are likely to

seem rather uniform. The distinctions between individual and individual,

and even the greater distinctions between one group and another, become

buried under the overwhelming mass-effect of their difference from

ourselves. Growing familiarity, however, renders individual, local, and

tribal peculiarities plainer. The specialist, finally, comes to concern

himself with particular traits until the peculiarities occupy more of

his attention than the uniformities. His danger always is to let himself

get into the habit of taking sweeping similarities so much for granted

that he ends by underemphasizing or forgetting them. At the same time

his business is to add something new to human understanding—facts at any

rate, interpretation if possible. Generalities are likely to be pretty

widely known, and progress, new formulations, therefore depend ultimately

on mastery of detail. This means that if a scientist is to contribute

anything to the world’s comprehension, is to add a new mental tool to its

chest, he must devote himself to specific traits, to discriminations of

fine detail. It is only by finding new trees that he helps to make the

woods larger.

If then we approach a race like the American Indians with the scientist’s

or student’s purpose of discovering something more than we already know,

we quickly find that institutions, customs, and utensils, in other words

the cultures, vary from tribe to tribe. When one compares tribes living

so far apart as to be no longer united in intercourse, nor even by

communication with common intermediaries, there is scarcely a trait in

which their cultures are wholly identical. Within a limited district a

fair degree of uniformity is found to prevail. Yet when the boundaries of

such an area are crossed, a new type of culture begins to be encountered,

which again holds with local variations until a third district is entered.

151. PLAINS, SOUTHWEST, NORTHWEST AREAS

For instance, the Indians of the Plains between the Rocky mountains and

the Mississippi river form a comparative unit. They are all warlike,

the great aim in life of every man in these tribes being attainment of

military glory. All the Plains tribes subsisted to a large extent on

buffalo, lived in tipis—tents made of buffalo skins—and boiled their food

with hot stones in buffalo rawhide. Nearly all of them performed a four

days’ religious ceremony known as the Sun Dance, of which one of the

outstanding acts was fasting and sometimes self-torture inflicted with

skewers drawn through the skin and torn out. These customs were common to

the Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Crow, Blackfeet, Assiniboine, Omaha, Kiowa,

Comanche, and other tribes.

As one passes from this region to the mountainous plateau which

constitutes the present New Mexico and Arizona—the Southwest of the

United States—one encounters a series of tribes often inhabiting stone

houses, subsisting by agriculture, cooking in earthenware pots, little

given to fighting, according authority to priests rather than warriors,

erecting altars, and performing masked dances representing divinities.

This Southwestern culture, its internal relations, and the tribes

participating in it, have already been discussed in another connection (§

87).

If, however, on leaving the Plains one turns northwest to the shores

of British Columbia and southern Alaska, a third distinctive type of

native civilization appears. Among these Northwestern or North Pacific

Coast tribes, such as the Tlingit, Haida, Tsimshian, Kwakiutl, Nutka, and

Salish, the priest as well as the warrior bowed before the rich man, an

elaborate set of rules and honors separating the wealthy high-born from

the poor and lowly. Aristocracy, commoners, and slaves made up distinct

strata of society in this region. Public rituals were occasions for the

ostentation of wealth. Houses were carpentered of wood. Cooking was done

in boxes. The prevalent food was fish.

The significant thing is that these are not three tribes, but three

groups each consisting of a number of politically independent tribes

spread over a considerable territory and evincing a fairly fundamental

similarity of customs and institutions. We are confronting three kinds

of culture, each super-tribal in range and attached to a certain area.

These areas have sometimes been called “ethnographic provinces”; they

are generally known as “culture-areas.” Of such areas ten are generally

recognized on the North American continent. These are the Plains,

Southwest, North Pacific Coast, Mackenzie-Yukon, Arctic, Plateau,

California, Northeast, Southeast, and Mexico.[23]

Obviously we have here a classification comparable to that which the

naturalist makes of animals. As the zoölogist divides the vertebrate

animals into mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fishes, so the

anthropologist divides the generic North American Indian culture into

the cultures of these ten areas. The naturalist however cannot stop with

a group as inclusive as the mammals, and goes on to subdivide them into

orders, such as the rodents, carnivores, ungulates, and the like. Each

of these again he goes on splitting into families, genera, and finally

species. The species correspond to the smallest groups in human society,

namely the tribes or nations. Parallel to the family or order which

the naturalist finds between a particular species and the great class

of mammals, one may therefore expect to discover groups intermediate

between particular tribes and the large culture-areas. Such intermediate

groups would consist of clusters of tribes constituting fractions of a

culture-area: clearly pertaining to this area, but yet somewhat set off

from other clusters within the same area—like the Pueblos and Navaho

within the Southwest, as already described (§ 87). We may call such

clusters or fractions sub-culture-areas, and must concern ourselves with

them if we desire to deepen our understanding of aboriginal American

civilization.

For the sake of simplicity, it will be well to select a limited portion

of North America, instead of wrestling with the intricacies of the

continent as a whole, in an endeavor to see how its culture-areas and

sub-culture-areas reveal themselves in detail and help to throw light on

native history. California will serve as a type example.

152. CALIFORNIA AND ITS SUB-AREAS

Modern state boundaries frequently do not coincide with either ethnic

lines of division or with natural physiographic areas, especially when

political units are created by legislative enactment, as has been the

case with most of the United States. This partial discrepancy holds for

California. The native culture most distinctive of California covered

only the middle two-thirds of the present state, but took in Nevada and

much of the Great Basin (Fig. 31).

Northernmost California, especially along the ocean, was inhabited by

Indians that affiliated with the tribes of the North Pacific coast. One

after another their customs and arts prove on examination to be related

to the customs and arts of the coast of British Columbia, and to differ

more or less from the corresponding practices of the Central California

Indians. Here then we have a second cultural type, that of Northwestern

California, which constitutes a subdivision of the North Pacific Coast

culture-area.

The southern California Indians link with the Indians of the adjoining

states of Arizona and New Mexico. In short, this part of California forms

part of the Southwest culture-area. The southern California tribes are

however not wholly uniform among themselves, but constitute two groups:

those of the islands, coast, and mountains, and those of the Colorado

river. These are distinguished primarily by the fact that only the river

tribes practised agriculture. We may designate these two divisions as

“Southern California” proper and “Lower Colorado River.”

[Illustration: FIG. 31. Sub-culture-areas of native California, as

part of the major culture-areas of western North America. _A_, culture

of Northwestern California; _B_, Central California; _C_, Southern

California; _D_, Lower Colorado River.]

The table on the opposite page gives a brief characterization of these

four sub-culture-areas.

153. THE SHAPING OF A PROBLEM

So far we have been discriminating, that is, looking for characteristic

differences. On the other hand, there has always existed a consensus of

impression, among experienced as well as hasty observers, that a certain

likeness runs through the culture of most the tribes of California,

northern, central, and southern. With scarcely an exception they

were unwarlike; nearly all of them made excellent baskets, but were

deficient in wood-working. Obviously it is necessary to reconcile these

uniformities with the peculiarities that distinguish the four regional

types or sub-culture-areas, as well as to account for the peculiarities.

Let us simplify the problem by considering only one aspect of the four

native cultures instead of the whole cultures. In this way there will be

more likelihood of making a substantial beginning; any results obtained

from the example can be subsequently checked from other aspects of the

cultures to see if the findings are broadly representative. Further, let

us arrange the items of information that are available on this one aspect

of culture, not haphazardly, nor mechanically as under an alphabetic

classification, nor in the sequence in which authors have published their

observations, but naturally, or according to some principle that is

likely to work out into an interpretation. Since part of the problem is

the relation of the uniform features to the peculiar ones, a promising

order will be to put at one end of the line or series of data the most

universal features, and at the other the most particular or localized

ones.

Let us select religion as that part of native culture to be examined, and

limit this still farther by eliminating from consideration, for the time

being, all forms of religion except public rituals, which among Indians

are frequently accompanied or signalized by sacred dances. We may forget,

for the moment, private rites, individual sacrifices, superstitions and

taboos, medicine men, myths, and the like, and direct attention to dances

made by groups of people, or the obvious equivalents of such dances, and

ritual acts definitely associated with the dances or the common weal.

_Northwestern _Central California

California (California-Great

(North Pacific Coast)_ Basin)_

Houses Planks Earth or thatch

Sweat-houses Planks Earth

Head-gear Women’s caps Men’s head-nets

Foot-wear Moccasins None

Women’s skirts Deer-skin Deer-skin or fibers

Basketry Twined Twined and coiled

Pottery None None

Boats Dug-out canoes Rush rafts

Paddles Single-bladed Single-bladed

Staple food Salmon Acorns

Ring-and-pin game Salmon vertebræ Deer vertebræ

Shell money Dentalia Clam disks

Bows Sinew-backed Sinew-backed

War clubs Edged stone None

Social divisions None Dual

Shamans Women Men

Origin legend Previous race Creator

Religious society None Kuksu

Dances Wealth displays Spirit impersonations

_Southern California _Lower Colorado

(Southwest)_ River (Southwest)_

Houses Earth or thatch Earth

Sweat-houses Earth None

Head-gear Women’s caps None

Foot-wear Sandals or moccasins Sandals

Women’s skirts Fibers Fibers

Basketry Mostly coiled Almost absent

Pottery Undecorated Decorated

Boats Joined planks Rush rafts

Paddles Double-bladed Poles

Staple food Acorns and fish Maize

Ring-and-pin game Acorn cups Pumpkin rind

Shell money Clam disks Almost none

Bows Plain Plain

War clubs Knobbed wood Knobbed wood

Social divisions Dual and multiple Multiple

Shamans Men Men

Origin legend Birth from Earth Birth from Earth

Religious society Jimsonweed None

Dances Simple dances Dream singings

Choice of this phase of native culture is not quite random; ritual

ordinarily is rather freer from the complications caused by natural

environment than most other institutions and customs. Had industrial

arts, for instance, been selected as the point of attack, it might be

imagined that certain tribes made pottery, and others did not, because of

the presence or absence of suitable clay in their respective habitats; or

perhaps that a particular weave of basketry occurred universally because

this weave followed more or less directly from the physical properties of

some plant material that abounded everywhere in the state. On the other

hand, when tribes do or do not make dances in honor of their divinities,

or when they do or do not practise an elaborate mourning for their dead,

these are customs into which the influence of natural environment can

scarcely enter, since all peoples believe in spirits and suffer the loss

of relatives.

154. GIRLS’ ADOLESCENCE RITE

When, then, we review the religious dances of the California tribes

en masse, we find that there are only two which come near to being

universal. One of these is the Victory Dance held over the head or scalp

of a slain enemy; the other is an Adolescence Rite performed for girls at

puberty. The latter is the more profitable to consider. It is the more

widely spread, having been performed in every district of California,

and by almost every tribe. The Victory Dance was not made by the Indians

of northern California, who substituted for it a war incitement dance of

different character. Further, a tribe having the tradition of the Victory

Dance might often be at peace and go for a generation or two without the

celebration. But a ceremony which it was thought necessary to make for

each girl at puberty was obviously due to be performed every few years

even among a small group.

There are many local variations in the Californian Adolescence Rite, but

certain of its features emerge with constancy. These traits are based

on the belief that the girl who is at this moment passing from childhood

to maturity must be undergoing a critical transition. The occasion was

considered critical not only for her but for the community, and, since

the Indians’ outlook was limited, for the whole of their little world.

A girl who at this period did not show fortitude to hardship would be

forever weak and complaining: therefore she fasted. If she carried wood

and water industriously, she would remain a good worker all her life,

whereas if she defaulted, she would grow up a lazy woman. So crucial,

in fact, was this moment, that she was thought extremely potent upon

her surroundings, as constituting a latent danger. If she looked abroad

upon the world, oak trees might become barren and next year’s crop of

acorns fail, or the salmon refuse to ascend the river. Among many tribes,

therefore, the maturing girl was covered with a blanket, set under a

large basket, or made to wear a visor of feathers over her eyes. Others

had her throw her hair forward and keep her head bowed. She was given

the benefit of having ancient religious songs sung over her, and dances

revolved around her night after night. Certain additional developments

of the ceremony were locally restricted. Thus it was only in the south

that the girl was put into a pit and baked in hot sand. But a number of

specific features occur from the north to the south end of the state.

Among these are the following rules. The girl must not eat meat, fat, or

salt. She must not scratch her head with her fingers, but use a stick or

bone implement made for the purpose. She must not look at people; and she

should be sung over.

It should be added that most of these traits of the Girls’ Rite recur

among the tribes of a much larger area than California, including those

of Nevada and the Great Basin and the Pacific coast for a long distance

north. This institution, then, is remarkably widespread and has preserved

nearly the same fundamental features wherever it is found.

155. THE FIRST PERIOD

What can be inferred from this uniformity and broad diffusion? It seems

fair to try the presumptive conclusion of antiquity. A continent is

likely to be older than an island. A family of animals has probably

existed longer than a single species. A world-wide custom normally is

more ancient than one that is confined to a narrow locality. If it

spread from one people to another, this diffusion over the whole earth

would usually require a long time. If on the other hand such a custom

had originated separately among each people, its very universality would

indicate it as the response to a deep and primary need, and such a need

would presumably manifest itself early in the history of the race.

It is true that one may not place too positive a reliance on evidence of

this sort. The history of civilization furnishes some contrary examples.

Thus the Persian fire-worshiping religion is older than Christianity, yet

is now confined to the Parsees of Bombay and to one or two small groups

in Persia. The use of tobacco has spread over the eastern hemisphere in

four centuries. Still, such cases are exceptional; and in the absence of

specific contrary considerations, heavy weight must be given to wideness

of occurrence in rating antiquity.

If the Girls’ Rite were identical among all the tribes that practise it,

there might be warrant for the conclusion that it had originated only a

few centuries ago but had for some reason been carried from one tribe to

another with such unusual rapidity as not to have been subjected to the

alterations of time. Yet the fact that the essential uniformity of the

rite is overlaid by so much local diversity—as for instance the baking

custom restricted to southern California—indicates the unlikelihood of

such a rapid and late diffusion. The ceremony is much in the status of

Christianity, which, in the course of its long history, has also become

broken into national varieties or sects, all of which however remain

Christian.

The facts then warrant this tentative conclusion: that the Girls’ Rite is

representative of the oldest stratum of religion that can be traced among

the Indians of California—their “First Period.” The Victory Dance would

presumably be of nearly but not quite the same antiquity.

156. THE SECOND PERIOD: MOURNING ANNIVERSARY AND FIRST-SALMON RITE

Pursuing the same method farther, let us look for rituals that are less

widely spread than these but yet not confined to small districts. The

outstanding one in this class is the Mourning Anniversary. This is a

custom of bewailing each year, or at intervals of a few years, those

members of the tribe who have died since the last performance, and the

burning of large quantities of wealth—shell money, baskets, and the

like—in their memory. Each family offers for its own dead, but people

of special consideration are honored by having images made of them and

consumed with the property. Until the anniversary has been performed, the

relatives of the dead remain mourners. After it, they are free to resume

normal enjoyment of life; and the name of the deceased, which until then

has been strictly taboo, may now be bestowed on a baby in the family.

The Mourning Anniversary as here outlined is practised with little

variation, less than the Girls’ Rite shows, throughout southern

California and a great part of central California, especially the Sierra

Nevada district. Its distribution thus covers more than half of the

state. But it has not spread elsewhere except to a small area in southern

Nevada and western Arizona.

In northern California the Mourning Anniversary is lacking. It is not

that the Indians here fail to mourn their dead. In fact they frequently

bewail them for a longer time than most civilized peoples think

necessary. They may bury or burn some property with the corpse. But they

do not practise the regular public commemoration of the southerly tribes.

They do not assiduously accumulate wealth for months or years in order to

throw it into a communal fire at the end. And they do not make images of

their dead. In fact, they would be shocked at the idea as indelicate, if

not impious. Is there anything in this northern part of California that

takes the place of the anniversary?

Not as a psychological equivalent; but as regards distribution, there

is. This is the custom, established in northern California and parts of

Oregon, for a leading shaman or medicine-man to conduct a ceremony at

the beginning of each year’s salmon run. Until he had done this, no one

fished for salmon or ate them. If any got caught, they were carefully

returned to the river. When the medicine-man had gone through his secret

rites, he caught and ate the first fish of the year. After this, the

season was open. To eat salmon no longer brought illness and disaster,

as it was thought it would a few days earlier. Moreover, the prayers or

formulas recited by the shaman propitiated the salmon and caused them to

run abundantly, so that every one had plenty. There is clearly a communal

motive in the rite, even though its performance was entrusted to an

individual.

The one specific element common to the Mourning Anniversary and this

First-salmon Rite is their connection with the natural year, the cycle

of the seasons, a trait necessarily lacking in the Girls’ Rite with

its intimately personal character. Because of this common feature;

because, also, neither of these two rituals is as widespread as the

Girls’ Rite and yet between them they cover the whole of California with

substantially mutual exclusiveness, it seems fair to assume that they

both originated at a later time than the Girls’ Rite, but still in fairly

remote antiquity. They may therefore be provisionally assigned to a

Second Period of the prehistory of California.

157. ERA OF REGIONAL DIFFERENTIATION

It is now necessary to return to the four regional divisions or

sub-culture-areas of the modern tribes of California. Since the

Northwestern one affiliated with the extensive North Pacific culture,

and those of Southern California and the Colorado River with the great

culture of the Southwest, many of their customs must have originated in

those parts of these two culture-areas which lie outside of California.

Even if the northern and southern Californians “lent” as well as

“borrowed” inventions and institutions, they must on the whole have

received or learned or imitated more in the interchange than they

imparted. This is clear from the fact that the Indians of British

Columbia are more advanced in their manufacturing ability, richer in

variety of tools and utensils, and more elaborate in their organization

of society, than those of Northwestern California; and a similar

relation of superiority and priority exists between the Pueblos of New

Mexico and Arizona and the Southern California tribes (§ 87). In other

words, a stream of civilizational influences has evidently run from

southern Alaska and British Columbia southward along the coast as far as

Northwestern California, and another from the town-dwelling Pueblos to

the village-inhabiting tribes of Southern California, in much the same

way that civilization flowed from ancient Babylonia into Palestine, from

Egypt into Crete, from Greece to Rome, from Rome to Gaul and Britain,

from western Europe to the Americas after their discovery, and from

the Christian to the non-Christian nations of to-day. Somewhere in the

unraveling of the prehistory of California the first indications of these

streams from the outside should be encountered.

They are not manifest in the two periods which have so far been

established. The distribution of the Girls’ Rite of the First Period and

of the Mourning Anniversary and First-salmon Rite of the Second, does not

coincide with the major culture-areas of the continent. The Southwest,

for instance, from which the modern southern Californians have received

so much, does not possess any of these ceremonies. The Southwest culture

therefore evidently originated, or began to take on its recent aspect,

or at least to influence Southern California, chiefly after the two

periods had passed by in which these ceremonies became established in

California. The Girls’ Rite, to be sure, extends up the Pacific coast

into Alaska. Yet it is more widespread than the North Pacific Coast

culture, since this has its southerly limit in Northwestern California,

whereas the ceremony is universal as far as to the southern end of the

state, besides occurring inland throughout the Great Basin and Plateau

regions. Being more widely spread than the Coast culture, the Girls’ Rite

is presumptively more ancient.

The beginnings of the four modern types of California native culture

must thus evidently be looked for at about the point now reached in our

reconstruction. At first there was a single very widespread ceremony;

then two less widely diffused ones; the next logical step in development

would have been the growth of a still larger number of ceremonies or

ritual systems. These, on account of their greater recency, and perhaps

on account of conflicting with one another, would have spread only over

comparatively small areas. Let us therefore assume that to this Third

Period belonged the beginnings of the Wealth-display dances of the

Northwestern Indians which are coupled with the idea of world renovation

(table, p. 299); the so-called Kuksu dances made among the Central

Californians by members of a secret society disguised as divinities; the

Jimsonweed rites of the Southern tribes who use this narcotic plant as a

mystical means of initiating the young into their religious society; and

the series of long singings that the Colorado River tribes are addicted

to and believe they have miraculously dreamed.

Of course, the idea could scarcely be entertained that these four local

systems sprang into existence full-fledged. They are complicated sets

of rituals, quite different from the simple Girls’ Rite and Mourning

Anniversary. They must have grown up gradually from more meager

beginnings and have been a considerable time reaching their present

elaboration. It would thus seem justifiable to add not only one but

two further periods of religious growth, in the earlier of which—the

Third—these ceremonial systems of the historic Indians began their

development, whereas in the later or Fourth they achieved it.

158. THIRD AND FOURTH PERIODS IN CENTRAL CALIFORNIA: KUKSU AND HESI

For instance, in the Central California sub-culture-area a series of

tribes possess a society to which young men are admitted only after

a double initiation with formal teaching by their elders, the first

initiation coming in boyhood, the second soon after puberty. The society

holds great four-day dances in large earth-covered houses. Time is beaten

to the dance and song with rattles of split sticks, and stamped with the

feet on a great log drum. The dancers wear showy feather costumes which

disguise them to the uninitiated women, children, and strangers, who take

them to be spirits of old that have come to exhibit themselves for the

good of the people. There may be as many as twelve divinities represented

in this way, each with his distinctive name and dress. One of the most

prominent of these is the god or “first-man” Kuksu, the founder of the

sacred rites, after whom the entire system has been named the “Kuksu

Cult.”

The tribes participating in the Kuksu Cult are the Patwin, nearer Maidu,

Porno, Yuki, Miwok, and several others. They occupy an area which may be

described as the heart of California: namely, the districts adjoining

the lower Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers and the Bay of San Francisco

into which the two streams pour the drainage of the great interior valley

(Fig. 32).

Beyond the Kuksu-dancing tribes there are others, like the farther

Maidu, the Wailaki, and some of the Yokuts, among whom the medicine-men

are wont to gather for public demonstration of their magical prowess.

Thus, they assemble for a competition of “throwing” sickness into one

another, or to charm the rattlesnakes so that they can be handled and

that no one in the tribe may be bitten during the ensuing year. In these

gatherings there is the idea of an association of people endowed with

particular powers and operating more or less jointly for the benefit

of the community. In short, this fringe of Central tribes beyond the

border of the Kuksu Cult evince some of the psychology and motives of

the Cult, but without the definite organization of the latter, and also

without some of its specific practices, such as god-impersonation. These

gatherings of the medicine men thus look as if they might have been the

simple and generalized substratum out of which the Kuksu Cult grew by

a process of gradual formalization and ritualistic elaboration. This

conclusion is corroborated by the distribution. It is the tribes at the

ends of the great interior valley, or in the hills above it, whose rites

are of this loose type, while in the center are the true Kuksu-dancing

groups. There is a periphery of low organization and a core of high

organization. According to our previous rule (§ 87, 97), recency in

acquisition but antiquity of stage pertain to the marginal as the more

widely distributed; the geographically more compact nucleus representing

an earlier beginning but a later stage of present development. That is,

it is reasonable to believe that the Kuksu Cult grew out of semi-formal

gatherings of medicine-men such as still survive in the outlying

districts—the “backwoods” of the Central area.

[Illustration: FIG. 32. Native ritual growths in the Californian

area, the range of each narrowing in proportion to its recency and

specialization. First period, _stippling_: Girls’ Rite. Second period,

_shading_: _horizontal_, _MA_, Mourning Anniversary; _vertical_, _FS_,

First-Salmon Rite. Third and fourth periods, _outlines_: _A3_, Wealth

Display, _A4_, Deerskin Dance; _B3_, Kuksu Society, _B4_, Hesi Dance;

_C3_, Jimsonweed Cult, _C4_, Chungichnish Cult; _D3-4_, Dream Singing.]

Evidently if a still later religious movement developed as an elaboration

or addition of the Kuksu Cult, it should be less widely diffused than

this system, forming a sort of nucleus within the core. Actually there is

such a later growth. This is the Hesi Dance, confined to the Patwin and

Maidu of the lower Sacramento valley (Fig. 32), and regarded by them as

the most sacred portion of the Kuksu system. It is the one of all their

rituals into which the largest number of differently garbed performers

enter, and is made twice a year as the spectacular beginning and finale

of the series of lesser Kuksu dances.

The history of native ritual in Central California thus is fairly plain.

Early in the Third Period, perhaps already during the Second, the

specialists in religion, the medicine-men, had acquired the habit of

giving public demonstrations. This resulted in a bond of fellowship among

themselves and a sense of exclusiveness toward the community as a whole.

Out of this sense there was elaborated during the Third Period, somewhere

about the lower Sacramento Valley, the idea of an organized secret

society with initiated members. The performances became more and more

elaborate, and the production of proof of supernatural power gradually

crystallized into impersonations of deities. By the beginning of the

Fourth Period, the Kuksu Cult had been established. During this period,

it was carried from the center of origin to its farthest limits, whereas

at the center the Hesi Dance was evolved as a characteristic addition.

If native development had been able to proceed undisturbed, if, for

instance, the coming of the white race had been deferred a few centuries

longer, the Hesi might have followed the diffusion of the earlier Kuksu

Cult; and while this new spread was in progress, the Patwin who form the

central nucleus of the whole Kuksu-Hesi movement might have been devising

a still newer increment to the system.

159. THIRD AND FOURTH PERIODS IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA: JIMSONWEED AND

CHUNGICHNISH

The Southern California Jimsonweed Rites are quite distinct from the

Kuksu Cult in their regalia, dances, and teachings, but are also based

on initiation. It may therefore be concluded, first, that they grew up

contemporaneously in the Third Period; and next, that they sprang out of

the same soil, a growing tendency of the medicine-men toward professional

association. The selection of the jimsonweed as the distinctive element

in the south seems to have been due to influences from Mexico and

the Southwest. The tribes of Arizona and New Mexico use the plant in

religion, the Aztecs ascribed supernatural powers to it, and the modern

Tepecano of Mexico pray to it like a god. The Spanish-American name for

the plant, toloache, is an Aztec word. Because Mexican civilization was

so much the more advanced, it seems likely that the use of jimsonweed

originated in Mexico, was carried into the Southwest, and from there

spread into Southern California—perhaps at the receptive moment when

the medicine-men’s associations were drawing more closely together and

feeling the need of some powerful emotional element to lend an impetus to

their cults.

While the Jimsonweed religion was followed by Californian tribes from

the Yokuts on the north to the Diegueño on the south, its most elaborate

forms occur among groups near the center of Southern California,

especially the Gabrielino of Los Angeles and Catalina Island. This group

associates the greatest number of rituals and dances with the Jimsonweed

Society, and is therefore likely to have had the leading share in the

working out of the religion.

By the opening of the Fourth Period the Gabrielino must have had the

Jimsonweed Rites pretty fully developed, while the peripheral tribes like

the Yokuts and Diegueño were perhaps only learning the religious use of

the drug. The Gabrielino however did not stand still during this Fourth

Period, and while the original rather simple Jimsonweed Rites spread

north and south, they were adding a new element. This is the Chungichnish

Cult, based on belief in a great, wise, powerful god of this name, to

whom are due the final ordaining of the world and the institution of the

Jimsonweed Rites and their correct performance. Associated with this

belief is the use of the “ground painting.” This is a large picture,

usually of the world, drawn in colored earths, sands, seeds, or paints,

on the floor of the sacred enclosure in which the Jimsonweed rituals were

practised. This ground painting served both as an altar for the rites

and as a means of instructing the initiates (§ 192, 193). The custom of

this sacred painting became firmly established among the Gabrielino, and

is known to have spread from them to other tribes, such as the Luiseño.

From these it has been carried, in part during the last century, after

the white man was in the land, to still more remote tribes like the

Diegueño, who recognize the Gabrielino island of Catalina as the source

of the Chungichnish Cult and sing its songs to Gabrielino words (Fig. 32).

160. THIRD AND FOURTH PERIODS ON THE LOWER COLORADO: DREAM SINGING

In Southeastern California, among the tribes of the Lower Colorado

River, the Third and Fourth Periods are less easily distinguished. The

reason for this seems to be the fact that religion developed among these

tribes less through the invention or establishment of new elements, than

by the lopping away of older ones, with the result of a rather narrow

specialization on the few elements that were retained. Tribes like the

Yuma and Mohave scarcely danced for religious purposes. The special

costumes, showy feather headdresses, disguises, musical instruments,

sand-paintings, altars, and ritualistic processions that mark the Kuksu

and Jimsonweed cults, were lacking among them. They did adhere to the

widespread and ancient idea that dreams are a source and evidence of

supernatural power. In short, their religion turned inward, not outward.

Instead of their medicine-men forming a society based on initiation,

the Colorado River tribes came to feel that every one might be a

medicine-man according to his dreams. They put emphasis on these internal

experiences. The result has been that they believe that a legend can

be true and sacred only if it has been dreamed, and that a man’s songs

should be acquired in the same way. Religion, therefore, is an intensely

individualistic affair among them. Since no two men can dream quite

alike, no two Yumas or Mohaves tell their myths or sing their song cycles

identically. This cast to their religion is so strong that it looks to

be fairly ancient. The beginnings of this local type of religion may

therefore be set in the Third Period. As for the Fourth Period, it may

be inferred that this chiefly accentuated the tendencies developed in the

Third, the dream basis augmenting as ceremonialism dropped away.

161. NORTHWESTERN CALIFORNIA: WORLD-RENEWAL AND WEALTH DISPLAY

The Third and Fourth periods are also not readily distinguishable in

Northwestern California. Yet here the rooting of these two eras in the

Second is clearer. We have seen that all through northern California

there exists the First-salmon Rite conducted by a prominent medicine-man

of each locality; and we have referred the probable origin of this rite

to the Second period. The modern Indians of Northwestern California

consider their great dances of ten or twelve days’ duration as being

essentially the showy public accompaniment of an extremely sacred and

secret act performed by a single priest who recites a magical formula.

His purpose in some instances is to open the salmon season, in others

to inaugurate the acorn crop, in still others to make new fire for the

community. But whatever the particular object, it is always believed that

he renews something important to the world. He “makes the world,” as

the Indians call it, for another year. These New-year or World-renewing

functions of the rites of the modern Indians of Northwestern California

thus appear to lead back by a natural transition to the First-salmon Rite

which is so widely spread in northern California. Evidently this specific

rite that originated in the Second Period was developed in the Northwest

during the Third and Fourth eras by being broadened in its objective and

having attached to it certain characteristic dances.

These dances are the Deerskin and Jumping Dances. They differ from those

of the Central and Southern tribes in that every one may participate

in them. There is no idea of a society with membership, and hence no

exclusion of the uninitiated. In fact the dances are primarily occasions

for displays of wealth, which are regarded as successful in proportion to

the size of the audience. The albino deerskins, ornaments of woodpecker

scalps, furs, and great blades of flint and obsidian which are carried in

these dances, constitute the treasures of these tribes. The dances are

the best opportunity of the rich men to produce their heirlooms before

the public and in that way signalize the honor of ownership—which is one

of the things dearest in life to the Northwest Californian.

Another feature of these Northwestern dances which marks them off from

the Central and Southern ones is the fact that they can only be held in

certain spots. A Kuksu dance is rightly made indoors, but any properly

built dance house will answer for its performance. A Yurok or Hupa

however would consider it fundamentally wrong to make a Deerskin Dance

other than on the accepted spot where his great-grandfather had always

seen it. The reason for this attachment to the spot seems to be his

conviction that the most essential part of the dance is a secret, magical

rite enacted only in the specified place because the formula recited as

its nucleus mentions that spot.

In the Northwest we again seem to be able to recognize, as in the

Central and Southern regions, an increasing contraction of area for each

successively developed ritual. Whereas the First-salmon Rite of the

Second Period covers the whole northern third of California and parts of

Oregon, the Wealth-display dances and World-renewing rites of the Third

and Fourth Periods occur only in Northwestern California. The Jumping

Dance was performed at a dozen or more villages, the slightly more

splendid Deerskin Dance only in eight (Fig. 32). This suggests that the

Jumping Dance is the earlier, possibly going back to the Third Period,

whereas the Deerskin Dance more probably originated during the Fourth.

162. SUMMARY OF RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT

The history of religious cults among the Indians of California seems

thus to be reconstructible, with some probability of correctness in

its essential outlines, as a progressive differentiation during four

fairly distinct periods. During these four eras, the most typical cults

gradually changed from a personal to a communal aim, ceremonies grew more

numerous as well as more elaborate, influences from the outside affected

the tribes within California, and local differences increased until the

original rather close uniformity had been replaced by four quite distinct

systems of cults, separated in most cases by transitional areas in

which the less specialized developments of the earlier stages have been

preserved. This history may be expressed in visual form, as on page 314.

[Illustration: Periods of Religious Development in and about Native

California.]

[Illustration: Periods of Culture Development in Native California.]

163. OTHER PHASES OF CULTURE

A natural question arises here. Does this reconstructed history apply

only to ritual cults, or can a parallel development be traced for

other elements of religion, for industries, inventions, and economic

relations, for social institutions, for knowledge and art? The findings

are that this history holds for all phases of native culture. Material

and social development progressed much as did religion. Each succeeding

stage brought in new implements and customs, these became on the whole

more specialized as well as more numerous, and differed more and more

locally in the four sub-culture-areas. Thus the plain or self bow belongs

demonstrably to an earlier stratum than the sinew-backed one, basketry

precedes pottery, twined basketry is earlier than coiled, the stone

mortar antedates the slab with basketry mortar as the oval metate does

the squared one, earth-covered sweat houses are older than plank roofed

ones, and totemism may have become established before the division of

society into exogamic moieties. It would be a long story to adduce the

evidence for each of these determinations and all others that could

be made. It will perhaps suffice to say that the principles by which

they are arrived at are the same as those which have guided us in the

inquiry into religion. It may therefore be enough to indicate results in

a scheme, as on page 315. It will be seen that this is nothing but an

amplification of the preceding table. The framework there constructed to

represent the history of native rituals has here been further filled with

elements of material and social culture.

164. OUTLINE OF THE CULTURE HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA

In general terms, the net results of our inquiry can be stated thus.

First Period: a simple, meager culture, nearly uniform throughout

California, similar to the cultures of adjacent regions, and only

slightly influenced by these.

Second Period: definite influences from the North Pacific Coast and the

Southwest, affecting respectively the northern third and the southern

two thirds of California, and thus leading to a first differentiation of

consequence.

Third Period: more specific influences from outside, resulting in the

formation of four local types: the Northwestern, under North Pacific

influences; the Southern and Lower Colorado under stimulus of the

Southwest; and the Central, farthest remote from both and thus developing

most slowly but also most independently.

Fourth Period: consummation of the four local types. Influences

from outside continue operative, but in the main the lines of local

development entered upon in the previous era are followed out, reaching

their highest specialization in limited tracts central to each area.

This summary not only outlines the course of culture history in native

California: it also explains why there are both widely uniform and

narrowly localized culture elements in the region. It thus answers the

question why from one aspect the tribes of the state seem so much alike

and from another angle they appear endlessly different. They are alike

largely insofar as they have retained certain old common traits. They are

different to the degree that they have severally added traits of later

and localized development.

165. THE QUESTION OF DATING

A natural question is how long these periods lasted. As regards accurate

dating, there is only one possible answer: we do not know nearly enough.

Moreover modern historians, who possess infinitely fuller records on

chronology than anthropologists can ever hope to have on primitive

peoples, tend more and more to lay little weight on specific dates.

They may set 476 A.D., the so-called fall of Rome, as the point of

demarcation between ancient and mediæval history because it is sometimes

useful, especially in elementary presentation, to speak definitely.

But no historian believes that any profound change took place between

475 and 477 A.D. That is an impression beginners may get from the way

history is sometimes taught. Yet it is well recognized that certain slow,

progressive changes were going on uninterruptedly for centuries before

and after; and that if the date 476 A.D. is arbitrarily inserted into

the middle of this development, it is because to do so is conventionally

convenient, and with full understanding that the event marked was

dramatic or symbolic rather than intrinsically significant. In fact, the

value of a historian’s work lies precisely in his ability to show that

the forces which shaped mediæval history were already at work during the

period of ancient times and that the causes which had molded the Roman

empire continued to operate in some degree for many centuries after the

fall of Rome.

Nevertheless there is no doubt that occasional dates have the virtue

of impressing the mind with the vividness which specific statements

alone possess. Also, if the results of anthropological studies are

to be connected with the written records of history proper, at least

tentative dates must be formulated, though of course in a case like this

of the periods of native culture in California it is understood that all

chronology is subject to a wide margin of error.

History provides a start toward a computation, although its aid is a

short one. California began to be settled about 1770. The last tribes

were not brought into contact with the white man until 1850. As early,

however, as 1540 Alarcón rowed and towed up the lower Colorado and wrote

an account of the tribes he encountered there. Two years later, Cabrillo

visited the coast and island tribes of southern California, and wintered

among them. In 1579 Drake spent some weeks on shore among the central

Californians and a member of his crew has left a brief but spirited

description of them. In all three instances these old accounts of native

customs tally with remarkable fidelity with all that has been ascertained

in regard to the recent tribes of the same regions. That is, native

culture has evidently changed very little since the sixteenth century.

The local sub-cultures already showed substantially their present form;

which means that the Fourth Period must have been well established three

to four centuries ago. We might then assign to this period about double

the time which has elapsed since the explorers visited California; say

seven hundred years. This seems a conservative figure, which would put

the commencement of the Fourth Period somewhere about 1200 A.D.

All the remainder must be reconstruction by projection. In most parts

of the world for which there are continuous records, it is found that

civilization usually changes more rapidly as time goes on. While this is

not a rigorous law, it is a prevailing tendency. However, let us apply

this principle with reserve, and assume that the Third Period was no

longer than the Fourth. Another seven hundred years would carry back to

500 A.D.

Now, however, it seems reasonable to begin to lengthen our periods

somewhat. For the Second, a thousand years does not appear excessive:

approximately from 500 B.C. to 500 A.D. By the same logic the First

Period should be allowed from a thousand to fifteen hundred years. It

might be wisest to set no beginning at all, since our “First” period is

only the first of those which are determinable with present knowledge.

Actually, it may have been preceded by a still more primitive era on

which as yet no specific evidence is available. It can however be

suggested that by 2000 or 1500 B.C. the beginnings of native Californian

culture as we know it had already been made.

166. THE EVIDENCE OF ARCHÆOLOGY

There is left as a final check on the problem of age a means of

attack which under favorable circumstances is sometimes the most

fruitful: archæological excavation, especially when it leads to

stratigraphic determination, that is, the finding of different but

superimposed layers. Unfortunately archæology affords only limited aid

in California—much less, for instance, than in the Southwest. Nothing

markedly stratigraphical has been discovered. Pottery, which has usually

proved the most serviceable of all classes of prehistoric remains for

working out sequences of culture and chronologies, is unrepresented in

the greater part of California, and is sparse and rather recent in those

southern parts in which it does occur.

Still, archæological excavation has brought to light something. It has

shown that the ancient implements found in shellmounds and village sites

in Southern California, those from the shores of San Francisco Bay in

Central California, and those along the coast of Northwestern California,

are distinct. Certain peculiar types of artifacts are found in each of

these regions, are found only there, and agree closely with objects used

by the modern tribes of the same districts. For instance, prehistoric

village and burial sites in Northwestern California contain long blades

of flaked obsidian like those used until a few years ago by the Yurok and

Hupa. Sites in Southern California have brought to light soapstone bowls

or “ollas” such as the Spaniards a century ago found the Gabrielino and

Luiseño employing in cooking and in jimsonweed administration. Both these

classes of objects are wanting from the San Francisco Bay shellmounds and

among the recent Central Californian tribes.

It may thus be inferred (1) that none of the four local cultures was ever

spread much more widely than at present; (2) that each of them originated

mainly on the spot; and (3) that because many of the prehistoric

finds lie at some depth, the local cultures are of respectable

antiquity—evidently at least a thousand years old, probably more. This

fairly confirms the estimate that the differentiation of the local

cultures of the Third Period commenced not later than about 500 A.D.

167. AGE OF THE SHELLMOUNDS

Archæology also yields certain indications as to the total lapse of

time during the four periods. The deposits themselves contribute the

evidence. Some of the shellmounds that line the ramifying shores of San

Francisco Bay to the number of over four hundred have been carefully

examined. These mounds are refuse accumulations. They were not built up

with design, but grew gradually as people lived on them year after year,

because much of the food of their inhabitants was molluscs—chiefly clams,

oysters, and mussels—whose shells were thrown outdoors or trodden under

foot. Some of the sites were camped on only transiently, and the layers

of refuse never grew more than a few inches in thickness. Other spots

were evidently inhabited for many centuries, since the masses of shell

now run more than thirty feet deep and hundreds of feet long. The higher

such a mound grew, the better it drained off. One side of it would afford

shelter from the prevailing winds. The more regularly it came to be lived

on, the more often would the inhabitants bring their daily catch home,

and, without knowing it, thus help to raise and improve the site still

further.

Some of these shellmounds are now situated high and dry, at some distance

above tide water. Others lie on the very edge of the bay, and several of

these, when shafts were sunk into them, proved to extend some distance

below mean sea level. The base of a large deposit known as the Ellis

Landing mound, near Richmond, is eighteen feet below high tide level; of

one on Brooks island near by, seventeen feet. The conclusion is that the

sites have sunk at least seventeen or eighteen feet since they began to

be inhabited. The only alternative explanation, that the first settlers

put their houses on piles over the water, is opposed by several facts.

The shells and ashes and soil of the Ellis Landing mound are stratified

as they would be deposited on land, not as they would arrange in water.

There are no layers of mud, remains of inedible marine animals, or ripple

marks. There is no record of any recent Californian tribe living in pile

dwellings; the shore from which the mound rises is unfavorably situated

for such structures, being open and exposed to storms. Suitable timber

for piles grows only at some distance. One is therefore perforce driven

to the conclusion that this mound accumulated on a sinking shore, but

that the growth of the deposit was more rapid than the rise of the sea,

so that the site always remained habitable.

How long a time would be required for a coast to subside eighteen feet is

a question for geologists, but their reply remains indefinite. A single

earthquake might cause a sudden subsidence of several feet, or again the

change might progress at the rate of a foot or only an inch a century.

All that geologists are willing to state is that the probability is high

of the subsidence having been a rather long time taking place.

The archæologists have tried to compute the age of Ellis Landing mound

in another way. When it was first examined there were near its top

about fifteen shallow depressions. These appear to be the remains of

the pits over which the Indians were wont to build their dwellings. A

native household averages about 7 inmates. One may thus estimate a

population of about 100 souls. Numerous quadruped bones in the mound

prove that these people hunted; net sinkers, that they fished; mortars

and pestles, that they consumed acorns and other seeds. Accordingly,

only part of their subsistence, and probably the minor part, was derived

from molluscs. Fifty mussels a day for man, woman, and child seem a fair

estimate of what their shellfish food is likely to have aggregated. This

would mean that the shells of 5,000 mussels would accumulate on the site

daily. Laboratory experiments prove that 5,000 such shells, with the

addition of the same percentage of ash and soil as occurs in the mound,

all crushed down to the same consistency of compactness as the body of

the mound exhibits, occupy a volume of a cubic foot. This being the daily

increment, the growth of the mound would be in the neighborhood of 365

feet per year. Now the deposit contains roughly a million and a quarter

cubic feet. Dividing this figure by 365, one obtains about 3,500 as the

presumable number of years required to accumulate the mound.

This result may not be accepted too literally. It is the result of a

calculation with several factors, each of which is only tentative. Had

the population been 200 instead of 100, the deposit would, with the other

terms of the computation remaining the same, have built up twice as fast,

and the 3,500 years would have to be cut in half. On the other hand,

it has been assumed that occupation of the site was continuous through

the year. Yet all that is known of the habits of the Indians makes it

probable that the mound inhabitants were accustomed to go up into the

hills and camp about half the time. Allowance for this factor would

double the 3,500 years. All that is maintained for the computed age is

that it represents a conscientious and conservative endeavor to draw a

conclusion from all available sources of knowledge, and that it seems to

hit as near the truth as a calculation of this sort can.

One verification has been attempted. Samples of mound material, taken

randomly from different parts, indicate that 14 per cent of its weight,

or about 7,000 tons, are ashes. If the mound is 3,500 years old, the

ashes were deposited at the rate of two tons a year, or about eleven

pounds daily. Experiments with the woods growing in the neighborhood

have shown that they yield less than one per cent of ash. The eleven

daily pounds must therefore have come from 1,200 pounds of wood. On the

assumption, as before, that the population averaged fifteen families, the

one-fifteenth share of each household would be eighty pounds daily. This

is a pretty good load of firewood for a woman to carry on her back, and

with the Indians’ habit of nursing their fires economically, especially

along a timberless shore, eighty pounds seems a liberal allowance to

satisfy all their requirements for heating and cooking. If they managed

to get along on less than eighty pounds per hut, the mound age would be

correspondingly greater.

This check calculation thus verifies the former estimate rather

reasonably. It does not seem rash to set down three to four thousand

years as the indicated age of the mound.

This double archæological conclusion tallies as closely as one could

wish with the results derived from the ethnological method of estimating

antiquity from the degree and putative rapidity of cultural change. Both

methods carry the First traceable period back to about 1,500 or 2,000

B.C. After all, exactness is of little importance in matters such as

these, except as an indication of certitude. If it could be proved that

the first mussel was eaten by a human being on the site of Ellis Landing

in 1724 B.C., this piece of knowledge would carry interest chiefly in

proving that an exact method of chronology had been developed, and

would possess value mainly in that the date found might ultimately be

connectible with the dates of other events in history and so lead to

broader formulations.

168. GENERAL SERVICEABILITY OF THE METHOD

The anthropological facts which have been analyzed and then recombined in

the foregoing pages are not presented with the idea that the history of

the lowly and fading Californians is of particular intrinsic moment. They

have been discussed chiefly as an illustration of method, as one example

out of many that might have been chosen. That it was the California

Indians who were selected, is partly an accident of the writer’s

familiarity with them. The choice seems fair because the problem here

undertaken is rather more difficult than many. The Californian cultures

were simple. They decayed quickly on contact with civilization. The bulk

of historical records go back barely a century and a half. Archæological

exploration has been imperfect and yields comparatively meager results.

Then, too, the whole Californian culture is only a fragment of American

Indian culture, so that the essentially local Californian problems would

have been further illuminated by being brought into relation with the

facts available from North America as a whole—an aid which has been

foregone in favor of compact presentation. In short, the problem was

made difficult by its limitations, and yet results have been obtained.

Obviously, the same method applied under more favorable circumstances to

regions whose culture is richer and more diversified, where documented

history projects farther back into the past, where excavation yields

nobler monuments and provides them in stratigraphic arrangement, and

especially when wider areas are brought into comparison, can result in

determinations that are correspondingly more exact, full, and positive.

It is thus clear that cultural anthropology possesses a technique of

operation which needs only vigorous, sane, and patient application to be

successful. This technique is newer and as yet less refined than those

of the mechanical sciences. It is also under the disadvantage of having

to accept its materials as they are given in nature; it is impossible to

carry cultural facts into the laboratory and conduct experiments on them.

Still, it is a method; and its results differ from those of the so-called

exact sciences in degree of sharpness rather than in other quality.

It will be noted that throughout this analysis there has been no mention

of laws; that at most, principles of method have been recognized—such

as the assumption that widely spread culture elements are normally

more ancient than locally distributed ones. In this respect cultural

anthropology is in a class with political and economic history, and with

all the essentially historical sciences such as natural history and

geology. The historian rarely enunciates laws, or if he does, he usually

means only tendencies. The “laws” of historical zoölogy are essentially

laws of physiology; those of geology, laws of physics and chemistry.

Even the “laws” of astronomy, when they are not mere formulations of

particular occurrences which our narrow outlook on time causes to

seem universal, are not really astronomical laws but mechanical and

mathematical ones. In other words, anthropology belongs in the group

of the historical sciences: those branches of knowledge concerned with

things as and how and when they happen, with events as they appear in

experience; whereas the group of sciences that formulates laws devotes

itself to the inherent and immutable properties of things, irrespective

of their place or sequence or occurrence in nature.

Of course, there must be laws underlying culture phenomena. There is no

possibility of denying them unless one is ready to remove culture out

of the realm of science and set it into the domain of the supernatural.

Where can one seek these laws that inhere in culture? Obviously in that

which underlies culture itself, namely, the human mind. The laws of

anthropological data, like those of history, are then laws of psychology.

As regards ultimate explanations for the facts which it discovers,

classifies, analyzes, and recombines into orderly reconstructions and

significant syntheses, cultural anthropology must look to psychology.

The one is concerned with “what” and “how”; the other with “why”; each

depends on the other and supplements it.

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