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Title: The Mountain Chant, A Navajo Ceremony - Fifth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology to the - Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1883-84, - Government Printing Office, Washington, 1887, pages 379-468
Author: Matthews, Washington, 1843-1905
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
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* * * * *
Smithsonian Institution--Bureau Of Ethnology.
THE MOUNTAIN CHANT:
A NAVAJO CEREMONY.
by
Dr. WASHINGTON MATTHEWS, U.S.A.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
[Numbers in {braces} are paragraph numbers, added to the Table of
Contents by the transcriber.]
Page.
Introduction 385 {1}
Myth of the origin of dsilyídje qaçàl 387 {9}
Ceremonies of dsilyídje qaçàl 418 {81}
First four days 418 {84}
Fifth day 419 {85}
Sixth day 424 {100}
Seventh day 428 {111}
Eighth day 429 {115}
Ninth day (until sunset) 430 {119}
Last night 431 {124}
First dance (nahikàï) 432 {129}
Second dance (great plumed arrow) 433 {131}
Third dance 435 {133}
Fourth dance 436 {136}
Fifth dance (sun) 437 {138}
Sixth dance (standing arcs) 437 {140}
Seventh dance 438 {141}
Eighth dance (rising sun) 438 {142}
Ninth dance (Hoshkàwn, or _Yucca_) 439 {143}
Tenth dance (bear) 441 {147}
Eleventh dance (fire) 441 {148}
Other dances 443 {151}
The great pictures of dsilyídje qaçàl 444 {154}
First picture (home of the serpents) 446 {160}
Second picture (yays and cultivated plants) 447 {163}
Third picture (long bodies) 450 {172}
Fourth picture (great plumed arrows) 451 {174}
Sacrifices of dsilyídje qaçàl 451 {176}
Original texts and translations of songs, &c. 455 {192}
Songs of sequence 455 {193}
First Song of the First Dancers 456 {198}
First Song of the Mountain Sheep 457 {201}
Sixth Song of the Mountain Sheep 457 {205}
Twelfth Song of the Mountain Sheep 458 {209}
First Song of the Thunder 458 {213}
Twelfth Song of the Thunder 459 {216}
First Song of the Holy Young Men, or Young Men Gods 459 {219}
Sixth Song of the Holy Young Men 460 {223}
Twelfth Song of the Holy Young Men 460 {227}
Eighth Song of the Young Women who Become Bears 461 {231}
One of the Awl Songs 461 {236}
First Song of the Exploding Stick 462 {239}
Last Song of the Exploding Stick 462 {243}
First Daylight Song 463 {247}
Last Daylight Song 463 {250}
Other songs and extracts 464 {254}
Song of the Prophet to the San Juan River 464 {254}
Song of the Building of the Dark Circle 464 {257}
Prayer to Dsilyi‘ Neyáni 465 {261}
Song of the Rising Sun Dance 465 {265}
Instructions given to the akáninili 466 {269}
Prayer of the Prophet to his Mask 466 {272}
Last Words of the Prophet 467 {275}
NOTE ON THE ORTHOGRAPHY OF NAVAJO WORDS.
The spelling of Navajo words in this paper is in accordance with the
alphabet of the Bureau of Ethnology:
c = _ch_ in _chin_; ¢ = _th_ in _this_; ç = _th_ in _think_; j = _z_ in
_azure_; q = German _ch_ in _machen_; ‘ shows that a vowel is aspirated;
the vowels have the continental sounds; _ai_ is the only diphthong, and
is like _i_ in _line_; _l_ is usually aspirated; the other letters have
the ordinary English pronunciation.
[See also Transcriber’s Supplement at the end of the text, between
the Index and the Errata.]
ILLUSTRATIONS
PLATE X. Medicine lodge, viewed from the south 418
XI. Medicine lodge, viewed from the east 420
XII. Dance of nahikàï 432
XIII. Fire dance 442
XIV. The dark circle of branches at sunrise 444
XV. First dry painting 446
XVI. Second dry painting 448
XVII. Third dry painting 450
XVIII. Fourth dry painting 452
FIGURE 50. Qastcèëlçi, from a dry painting of the klèdji-qaçàl 397
51. The çobolçà, or plumed wands, as seen from the door
of the medicine lodge 422
52. Akáninili ready for the journey 424
53. The great wood pile 429
54. Dancer holding up the great plumed arrow 434
55. Dancer “swallowing” the great plumed arrow 434
56. The whizzer, or groaning stick 436
57. Yucca baccata 440
58. Sacrificial sticks (keçàn) 452
59. The talking kethàwn (keçàn-yalçì‘) 452
* * * * *
THE MOUNTAIN CHANT: A NAVAJO CEREMONY.
By Dr. Washington Matthews, U.S.A.
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION.
1. The ceremony of dsilyídje qaçàl, or mountain chant--literally,
chant towards (a place) within the mountains--is one of a large number
practiced by the shamans, or medicine men, of the Navajo tribe. I have
selected it as the first of those to be described, because I have
witnessed it the most frequently, because it is the most interesting to
the Caucasian spectator, and because it is the best known to the whites
who visit and reside in and around the Navajo country. Its chief
interest to the stranger lies in the various public performances of the
last night. Like other great rites of the shamans, it has its secret
ceremonies of many days’ duration in the medicine lodge; but, unlike the
others, it ends with a varied show in the open air, which all are
invited to witness. Another ceremony which I have attended, and which
the whites usually call the “Yaỳbichy Dance” (Yèbitcai), has a final
public exhibition which occupies the whole night, but it is unvaried.
Few Europeans can be found who have remained awake later than midnight
to watch it. Such is not the case with the rite now to be described.
Here the white man is rarely the first to leave at dawn.
2. The appropriateness of the name dsilyídje or tsilgitce--towards
(a place) within the mountains--will be better understood from the myth
than from any brief description. “Dsilyi‘” may well allude to mountains
in general or to the Carrizo Mountains in particular, to the place in
the mountains (paragraphs 9 and 38) where the originator of these
ceremonies (whom I often find it convenient to call “prophet”) dwelt, or
to the name of the prophet (par. 41), or to all these combined. Qaçàl
signifies a sacred song or a collection of sacred songs. From the many
English synonyms for song I have selected the word chant to translate
qaçàl. In its usual signification hymnody may be its more exact
equivalent, but it is a less convenient term than chant. The shaman, or
medicine man, who is master of ceremonies, is known as qaçàli or
chanter--el cantador, the Mexicans call him. In order to keep in mind
his relationship to similar functionaries in other tribes I shall, from
time to time, allude to him as the priest, the shaman, or the medicine
man, following the example of other authors. To all ceremonies of a
character similar to this the term qaçàl is applicable. It would seem
from this that the Navajo regard the song as the chief part of the
ceremony, but since the Americans, as a rule, regard all Indian
ceremonies as merely dances and call them dances, I will, out of
deference to a national prejudice, frequently refer to the ceremony as a
dance.
3. Sometimes the collective rites and amusements of the last night are
spoken of as ilnasjíngo qaçàl, or chant in the dark circle of branches,
from _il_, branches of a tree; _nas_, surrounding, encircling; _jin_,
dark; and _go_, in. The name alludes to the great fence of piñon
branches, erected after sunset on the last night, to receive the guests
and performers. I shall often refer to this inclosure as the corral.
Some white men call the rites I describe the “corral dance,” but more
usually they call them the “hoshkàwn dance,” from one of the minor
performances of the last night, the hackàn-inçá‘, or act of the _Yucca
baccata_, a rite or drama which seems to particularly excite the
Caucasian interest. To such minor acts the terms inçá‘ and alìli are
applied; these may be translated dance, show, act, or exhibition.
4. The purposes of the ceremony are various. Its ostensible reason for
existence is to cure disease; but it is made the occasion for invoking
the unseen powers in behalf of the people at large for various purposes,
particularly for good crops and abundant rains. It would appear that it
is also designed to perpetuate their religious symbolism. Some of the
shows of the last night are undoubtedly intended to be dramatic and
entertaining as well as religious, while the merely social element of
the whole affair is obvious. It is an occasion when the people gather to
have a jolly time. The patient pays the expenses and, probably in
addition to the favor and help of the gods and the praise of the
priesthood, hopes to obtain social distinction for his liberality.
5. This, like other great rites of the Navajo, is of nine days’
duration. Some of these rites may take place in the summer; but the
great majority of them, including this dsilyídje qaçàl, may be
celebrated only in the winter, in the season when the thunder is silent
and the rattlesnakes are hibernating. Were they to tell of their chief
gods or relate their myths of the ancient days at any other time, death
from lightning or snake-bite would, they believe, be their early fate.
6. While in New Mexico I sometimes employed a very liberal minded
Navajo, named Juan, as a guide and informant. He had spent many years
among Americans, Mormons, and Mexicans, and was, I imagined, almost
perfectly emancipated from his “early bias.” He spoke both English and
Spanish fairly. On one occasion, during the month of August, in the
height of the rainy season, I had him in my study conversing with him.
In an unguarded moment, on his part, I led him into a discussion about
the gods of his people, and neither of us had noticed a heavy storm
coming over the crest of the Zuñi Mountains, close by. We were just
talking of Estsánatlehi, the goddess of the west, when the house was
shaken by a terrific peal of thunder. He rose at once, pale and
evidently agitated, and, whispering hoarsely, “Wait till Christmas; they
are angry,” he hurried away. I have seen many such evidences of the deep
influence of this superstition on them.
7. When the man (or the woman) who gives the entertainment concludes he
is sick and that he can afford to call a shaman, it is not the latter
who decides what particular rites are best suited to cure the malady. It
is the patient and his friends who determine this. Then they send for a
man who is known to be skilled in performing the desired rites, and it
is his province merely to do the work required of him.
8. Before beginning to describe the ceremonies it will be well to relate
the myth accounting for their origin.
MYTH OF THE ORIGIN OF DSILYÍDJE QAÇÀL.
9. Many years ago, in the neighborhood of Dsilyi‘-qojòni, in the Carrizo
Mountains, dwelt a family of six: the father, the mother, two sons, and
two daughters. They did not live all the time in one locality, but moved
from place to place in the neighborhood. The young men hunted rabbits
and wood rats, for it was on such small animals that they all subsisted.
The girls spent their time gathering various wild edible seeds.
10. After a time they went to a place called Tse‘-biçàï (the Wings of
the Rock or Winged Rock), which lies to the east of the Carrizo
Mountains, on a plain. When they first encamped there was no water in
the vicinity and the elder brother went out to see if he could find
some. He observed from the camp a little sandy hillock, covered with
some vegetation, and he determined to see what sort of plants grew
there. Arrived there, he noticed a spot where the ground was moist. He
got his digging stick and proceeded to make a hole in the ground. He had
not dug long when the water suddenly burst forth in great abundance and
soon filled the excavation he had made. He hastened back to the camp and
announced his success. When they left the Carrizo Mountains it was their
intention to go to [¢]epéntsa, the La Plata Mountains, to hunt for food,
and their halt at Tse‘-biçàï was designed to be temporary only; but, now
that they had found abundance of water, the elder brother counseled them
not to hasten on, but to remain where they were for a while. The spring
he developed still exists and is known to the Navajo as Çobinàkis, or
the One-Eyed Water.
11. The spring was some distance from the camp, and they had but one
wicker water bottle; so the woman, to lighten her labor, proposed that
they should move their goods to the vicinity of the spring, as it was
her task to draw the water. But the old man counseled that they should
remain where they were, as materials for building were close at hand and
it was his duty to erect the hut. They argued long about it; but at
length the woman prevailed, and they carried all their property down
close to the spring. The elder son suggested that it would be well to
dig into the soft sandy soil, in order to have a good shelter; so the
old man selected a sandy hillock, overgrown with grease-wood, and
excavated it near one edge, digging straight down, so as to have a wall
on one side.
12. They had a stone ax-head, with a groove in it. Around this they bent
a flexible twig of oak and tied it with the fibers of the yucca, and
thus they made a handle. The first day after the spring was found the
young men went out and chopped all day, and in the evening brought home
four poles, and while they were gone the old man dug in the hillock. The
next day the young men chopped all day, and at night returned with four
more poles, while their father continued his digging. They worked thus
for four days, and the lodge was finished. They made mats of hay to lie
on and a mat of the same material to hang in the doorway. They made mats
of fine cedar bark with which to cover themselves in bed, for in those
days the Navajo did not weave blankets such as they make now. The soles
of their moccasins were made of hay and the uppers of yucca fibers. The
young men were obliged to go hunting every day; it was only with great
labor they could keep the house supplied with meat; for, as has been
said, they lived mostly on small animals, such as could be caught in
fall traps. These traps they set at night near the burrows, and they
slept close to the traps when the latter were set far from home. They
hunted thus for four days after the house was finished, while their
sisters scoured all the country round in search of seeds.
13. With all their work they found it hard to make a living in this
place. The land was barren; even rats and prairie dogs were scarce, and
the seed bearing plants were few. At the end of the fourth day they held
a consultation, and the old man said they would do better to move on to
the San Juan River, where food was more abundant, and they could trap
and gather seeds as they traveled. They determined to leave, and next
morning broke camp. They journeyed on till they reached the banks of the
San Juan. Here they found abundance of tciltcin (fruit of _Rhus
aromatica_) and of grass seeds, and they encamped beside the river at
night.
14. Next day they traveled up the stream to a place called Tse‘çqàka,
and here again they halted for the night. This place is noted for its
deposits of native salt. The travelers cut some out from under a great
rock and filled with it their bags, made out of the skins of the
squirrels and other small animals which they had captured. Thence they
followed up the river to Tse‘¢ezá‘ (Rock Sticking Up), and thence to
Çisyà-qojòni (Beautiful Under the Cottonwoods), where they remained a
day and killed two rabbits. These they skinned, disemboweled, crushed
between two stones, bones and all, so that nothing might be lost, put
them into an earthen pot to boil, and when they were sufficiently cooked
they added some powdered seeds to make a thick soup; of all this they
made a hearty meal. The Navajo then had neither horses nor asses; they
could not carry stone metates when they traveled, as they do now; they
ground their seeds with such stones as they could find anywhere. The old
man advised that they should cross the river at this point and he
directed his sons to go to the river and look for a ford. After a time
they returned and related that they had found a place where the stream
was mostly knee deep, and where, in the deepest part, it did not come
above their hips, and they thought all would be able to cross there. The
father named the hour of bihilçòhigi (when it gets warm, i.e., about 10
a.m.), on the morrow, as the time they should ford the San Juan; so
next morning at the appointed time they crossed. They traveled up the
north bank until they came to a small affluent whose source was in
[¢]epéntsa. Here they left the main river and followed the branch until
night approached, when they made camp.
15. They moved on next day and came close to [¢]epéntsa, to a soil
covered with tracks of deer and of other great animals of the chase.
Here they encamped, and on the following morning the young men set out
by different ways in the direction of the mountain to hunt; but at night
they returned empty handed. Thus they hunted four days unsuccessfully.
Every day while his sons were gone the old man busied himself cutting
down saplings with his stone ax and building a house, and the daughters
gathered seeds, which constituted the only food of the family. As the
saplings were abundant and close to the camp, the old man built his
house fast, and had it finished at nightfall on the fourth day, when his
sons returned from their fruitless labors. They entered the lodge and
sat down. They were weary and hungry and their bodies were badly torn by
the thorns and thick copse of the mountains. Their father spoke not a
word to them as they entered; he did not even look at them; he seemed to
be lost in deep contemplation; so the young men said nothing, and all
were silent. At length the old man looked up and broke the silence,
saying, “Aqalàni cactcini!” (Welcome, my children.) “Again you have
returned to the lodge without food. What does it avail that you go out
every day to hunt when you bring home nothing? You kill nothing because
you know nothing. If you had knowledge you would be successful. I pity
you.” The young men made no reply, but lay down and went to sleep.
16. At dawn the old man woke them and said: “Go out, my children, and
build a sweat-house, and make a fire to heat stones for the bath, and
build the sweat-house only as I will tell you. Make the frame of four
different kinds of wood. Put kaç (juniper) in the east, tse‘isçázi
(mountain mahogany) in the south, ¢estsìⁿ (piñon) in the west, and
awètsal (cliff rose) in the north; join them together at the top and
cover them with any shrubs you choose. Get two small forked sticks, the
length of the forearm, to pass the hot stones into the sweat-house, and
one long stick to poke the stones out of the fire, and let all these
sticks be such as have their bark abraded by the antlers of the deer.
Take of all the plants on which the deer most like to browse and spread
them on the floor of the sweat-house, that we may sit on them.” So they
built the lodge as he directed, and lit the fire and heated the stones.
While they were transferring the hot stones from the fire to the lodge
the old man brought out the mats which they used for bedding, and when
all the stones had been put in he hung the mats, one on top of another,
over the doorway. This done the three men went into the sudatory and sat
down to sweat, uttering not a word. When they had perspired sufficiently
they came out and sat down in silence until they were again ready to
submit themselves to the heat. In this way they sweated themselves four
times, keeping all the time a perfect silence, until they emerged for
the last time, when the old man directed his daughters to dig some soap
root and make a lather. In this he bade his sons wash their hair and the
entire surface of their bodies well. When they were thoroughly cleansed,
he sent them out to set twelve stone fall traps, a task which occupied
all the rest of the day. For each trap they buried a flat stone with its
upper side on a level with the surface of the ground; on this they
sprinkled a little earth, so that the rat would suspect nothing; over
this they placed another flat stone, leaning at an angle and supported
by a slender stick, to which were attached berries of the aromatic sumac
as a bait. That night the young men sat up very late talking with their
father, and did not lie down to sleep until after midnight, when, as
their father directed, they lay side by side with their heads to the
east.
17. The elder brother arose early, stirred the embers and made a fire,
and soon the younger awoke. As they sat by the fire warming themselves,
the elder one said: “Younger brother, I had a dream in the night;
I dreamt I killed a buck deer.” And the younger replied: “Elder brother,
I, too, had such a dream, but that which I killed was a doe.” The old
man heard their words and rose, saying, “It is well, my children; go out
and try again.” They went out to visit their traps. The first one they
came to had fallen; they lifted the stone and found under it the body of
a rat. So each one in turn, as they visited it was found to have fallen,
killing in its fall some small animal; and they returned to the lodge
with twelve little creatures for their food. Then the old man told them
to take their bows and arrows and hunt for deer. “Hunt,” said he, “to
the east, the west, and the north, if you will, but do not pass to the
south of the lodge.” With these instructions they set out, each one in a
different direction. The elder brother had not traveled far when he saw
a herd of deer and shot one of the number. He skinned it, cut it up,
took the backbone, hide, and tallow, and hung the rest in a tree. As he
drew near the house, he saw his younger brother approaching from a
different direction with the hide and meat of a doe. When they entered
the hut, the old man asked which of the two deer was shot first. The
elder brother answered: “I think mine was, for I killed it early this
morning, soon after I left the house.”
“Well,” said the father, “this skin of the first slain is mine; go and
stretch it and dry it for me with care.” After this they went out
hunting every day for twelve days, but fortune seemed to have deserted
them; they killed no more game; and at the end of that time their supply
of meat was exhausted. Then the old man said: “It always takes four
trials before you succeed. Go out once more, and if you kill a deer do
not dress it, but leave it as it is.”
18. On the following day they left the lodge together and did not take
separate trails. Soon they killed a deer, and the younger brother said:
“What shall we now do with it, since our father has told us not to skin
it and not to cut it up?” The elder brother said: “I know not. Return to
the lodge and ask our father what we must do.” Then the younger brother
returned to his father and the latter instructed him thus: “Cut the skin
around the neck; then carefully take the skin from the head, so as to
remove the horns, ears, and all other parts, without tearing the skin
anywhere. Leave such an amount of flesh with the nose and lips that they
will not shrivel and lose their shape when they dry. Then take the skin
from the body, which skin will again be mine. One of you must take out
the pluck and carry that in the hide to me; the other will bring the
skin of the head and the meat. Let him who bears the pluck come in
advance, and stop not till he comes directly to me, and he must hand it
to me and to no one else.” The younger brother went back and told all
this to the elder. They dressed the deer as they were bidden; the
younger put the pluck in the skin and went in advance, and the elder
followed with the venison and the skin of the head. When they reached
the hogán, the father said: “Where is the atcai?” (pluck) and the
younger said: “It is in the skin.” “Take it out,” said the old man, “and
hang it on yonder mountain mahogany.” The young man did as he was
bidden. The father advanced with his bow and arrow and handed them to
the elder brother, who placed the arrow on the string and held the bow.
The old man put his hands on top of those of his son and together they
drew the bow. The former took careful aim at the pluck and let the arrow
fly. It struck the object and penetrated both heart and lungs so far
that the point protruded on the opposite side. Then the old man told his
son to seize the arrow by the point and draw it completely through,
which was done. Next he made his son stand close to the pluck, looking
towards it, and while his son was in this position he blew on him in the
direction of the pluck. “Now,” said the father, “whenever you want to
kill a buck, even if there is neither track nor sign of deer in sight,
you have only to shoot into the tse‘isçázi (mountain mahogany,
_Cercocarpus parvifolius_) and you will find a dead deer where your
arrow strikes; while if you wish to kill a female deer you will shoot
your arrow into the awètsal (cliff rose, _Cowania mexicana_) and you
will find a doe there.” When all this was done they prepared the skin of
the head, under the old man’s directions. To keep the skin of the neck
open they put into it a wooden hoop.
They sewed up the mouth, left the eyeholes open, stuffed the skin with
hay, and hung it in a tree to dry, where it would not get smoky or
dusty. They cut places in the neck through which the hunter might see.
The skin of the doe which the younger brother had killed some time
before, and which had been tanned in the mean time, they painted red and
gray, to make it look like the skin of an antelope. They prepared two
short sticks, about the length of the forearm; these were to enable the
hunter to move with ease and hold his head at the proper height when he
crept in disguise on the deer. During the next four days no work was
done, except that the elder brother practiced in imitating the walk of
the deer.
19. From the camp where these things happened they moved to a place
called Tse‘-lakàï-iá‘ (White Standing Rock). Before they went to hunt or
gather seeds, the old man desired that they should all help to build the
hogán (hut); so all went to work together, men and women, and the hogán
was completed, inside and outside, in four days.
20. The morning following the completion of the hogán, the father sent
the young men out again, directing them, as before, not to go to the
south. They went off together, and soon espied a herd of deer. The elder
brother put on the deer mask and began to imitate the motions of the
animal, asking his younger brother what he thought of the mimicry. When
the latter gave his approval, the elder brother said, “Steal round to
the other side of the herd and when they see you they will come in my
direction.” He waited, and when he saw that his brother had got to the
other side of the herd, he selected a big fat buck as his special
object, and began to move towards him, walking and pawing the ground
like a deer, and rubbing his antlers against the trees. Soon the buck
began to approach the hunter, but the latter kept his head constantly
turned toward the deer the better to maintain his disguise. Presently
the buck came quite close to the Indian, when the latter sped his arrow
and brought the quarry down. They carried the meat home and the old man
demanded that the meat and skin should all be his in payment for his
advice. This was the third time he had advised them and the third time
he had received a gift for his service. He directed that the meat should
be cut into pieces and hung in the trees to dry, and that the skin
should be stretched and dried for his bed.
21. Next day the elder brother desired the younger to stay at home,
saying that he would like to hunt alone. As usual, the old man warned
him against the south, and directed him to hunt in the country north of
the hogán. He set out, accordingly, to the north; but he returned at
night without any game. Again on the following morning he set out alone,
and this time went to the west, as his father had directed. He hunted
all day without success, until near sunset, when it was time for him to
return. Then he remembered what his father had told him of the shrubs
that would always have deer for his arrow. Looking around he saw a cliff
rose, into which he shot his dart, and at the same instant he observed a
deer falling in the shrub. He ran to the spot and found a dead doe. When
he had skinned and dressed it, he could discover no high tree at hand
that he might hang it on to keep it safe from the wolves, so he laid the
meat on the top of the cliff rose, spread the skin over it, stuck an
arrow upright on the top of it, and went home. On his way he often said
to himself, “Why does my father bid me never to go to the south?” He
pondered much on the subject, and before he reached the hut he had
determined to satisfy his curiosity and to go to the south on the first
good opportunity. When he got home he told where he had laid the meat,
and, fearing that the crows or coyotes might get at it, he begged his
brother to hasten and bring it in. When the meat came he asked that a
piece might be broiled for his lunch on the hunt next day. All that
night the thought of his father’s prohibition continued to haunt his
mind and would not be dismissed.
22. On the morrow, when he went forth on his hunt, his father gave him
the usual injunctions, saying: “Hunt in any direction from the lodge
that you will; but go not to the south.” He departed as if he were going
to the east; but when he got out of sight from the hogán he turned round
to the south and pursued his way in that direction. He went on until he
came to the San Juan River, and he forded it at a place a little above
Beautiful Under the Cottonwoods, where they had crossed it before. He
went on to a place called Tyèl-saka¢ (Erect Cat-Tail Rushes) and thence
to a place called Dsiskí¢ (Clay Hill). Here he laid his deer skin mask
and his weapons on the ground and climbed the hill to observe the
surrounding country for game. But instead of looking south in the
direction in which he was going he looked to the north, the country in
which dwelt his people. Before him were the beautiful peaks of
[¢]epéntsa, with their forested slopes. The clouds hung over the
mountain, the showers of rain fell down its sides, and all the country
looked beautiful. And he said to the land, “Aqalàni!” (greeting), and a
feeling of loneliness and homesickness came over him, and he wept and
sang this song:
That flowing water! That flowing water!
My mind wanders across it.
That broad water! That flowing water!
My mind wanders across it.
That old age water! That flowing water!
My mind wanders across it.
23. The gods heard his song and they were about to gratify his wishes.
He was destined to return to [¢]epéntsa, but not in the manner he most
desired. Had he gazed to the south when he ascended the hill, instead of
to the north, it might have been otherwise.
24. He wiped away his tears and went down to the place where he had laid
his mask and arms at the foot of the hill. He put on his buckskin coat
and was just putting on his mask, but had not quite drawn it down over
his head, when he heard a noise to the south and, looking around, he saw
a great crowd on horseback riding towards him. To see better he drew off
his mask, and then observed that they were dividing into two lines as
they advanced; a moment later he was surrounded. The horsemen were of
the tribe of Ute, a people whose language he did not understand. One
young man rode up close to the Navajo, aimed an arrow at the breast of
the latter and drew it to the head; but just as he was about to release
it an old man began to address the party in a loud voice and the young
warrior lowered his arrow and relaxed his bow. Then the speaker
dismounted, approached the captive, and seized him by the arm. For a
long time there was much loud talking and discussion among the Ute. Now
one would harangue the party and then another would make a speech, but
after a while the dispute ceased and the old man motioned to the Navajo
to move on. They made him trot while they followed him on horseback in a
semicircle, so that they could guard him and watch his movements. Soon
they came to Tyèl-saka¢; shortly afterward they crossed the San Juan.
That night they camped near [¢]epéntsa, where they watched him closely
all night and gave him nothing to eat. They bound his feet firmly
together, tied his hands behind his back, and threw an untanned buckskin
over him before they lay down to sleep.
25. They set out on their journey again early in the morning. At
Çòinçeski‘ (Scattered Springs) they stopped for a little while to eat,
but the only food they gave the Navajo was the full of his palm of
service berries. When they arrived on the south side of Çòtsosi (Narrow
Water) they halted for the night and a number went out to hunt. Among
them they secured two deer, one large and one small; the feet of these
they gave to their captive for his supper. Next morning they gave him a
piece of liver, half of which he ate and the rest he kept. They moved on
rapidly and rested for the night at Dsil nahoyàl, where there was a
spring. They had given him nothing to eat all that day, and at night
they gave him nothing; so it was well for him that he had secreted part
of the liver. This he ate after dark. On the third morning he had to set
out fasting and had to go on foot as usual. About noon, however, one of
the Ute took pity on him and lent him a horse to ride, while the owner
of the horse walked all the afternoon. That night they arrived at the
bank of a large river, and here they gave him to understand, by signs,
that this was the last river they would cross until they got home.
Beyond the river there was nothing in sight but a great plain.
26. By the light of the morning, however, on the next day, he discerned
some mountains showing their points faintly above the northern horizon.
To these the Ute pointed and motioned to him to go ahead. They did not
follow him immediately; but saddled up at their leisure while the Navajo
went on. Though he was now for some time alone on the trail and out of
sight of his captors, he knew that he could not escape; all around and
before him was a desert plain where he could not discover a single
hiding place; so he trudged on, tired and hungry and sorrowing, and he
wept all along the way. At noon they gave him another handful of
berries.
27. At night they came to a plain situated between four mountains, one
on the east, one on the south, one on the west, and one on the north,
and here there was a great encampment of Ute, whose tents were scattered
around in different places on the plain. There was one tent whose top
was painted black and whose base was painted white and which had a
forked pole set in the ground in front of it. To this his master, the
old man who had saved his life and taken him by the arm on the occasion
of his capture, led him, while the rest of the war party departed to
their respective tents. The old man hung his own arms and accouterments
on the pole, and the slave, following his example, hung his deer skin
mask and robe on the forks and laid his crutches against the pole, and
he prayed to the head of the deer, saying:
Whenever I have appealed to you, you have helped me, my pet.
Once you were alive, my pet.
Take care that I do not die, my pet.
Watch over me.
When he had finished his prayer an old man came and danced around him,
and when the latter had done an old woman approached with a whistle in
her hand and she whistled all around him. This was for joy because they
had captured one of an alien tribe. Then his master motioned to him to
go into the tent. Here he was given a large bowl of berries of which he
ate his fill, and he was allowed to lie down and sleep undisturbed until
morning.
28. Next morning the Ute began to enter the tent. They came one by one
and in small groups until after a while there was a considerable crowd
present. Then they gave the Navajo to understand by signs that they
wished to know for what purpose he wore the mask and the buckskin. He
answered that he used them for no particular purpose, but only for a
whim. They repeated the question three times very pointedly and
searchingly, but he continued to make evasive replies. The fourth time
they addressed him they charged him to tell the truth and speak quickly,
reminding him that he was a prisoner whose life was in the hands of his
captors and telling him that if he did not disclose the use of his mask
and robe he would be killed before sunset, while if he revealed the
secret his life would be spared. He pondered but a short time over their
words and determined to tell them the truth. So he explained to them the
use of the mask and the robe in deceiving the deer and told the
wonderful power he had of getting game by shooting into certain bushes.
At dark they sent in two young men to be initiated into his mysteries.
He began by giving them a full account of all his father had done and
all he had shown him; he then taught them how to build the sweat-house,
how to make the mask, how to shoot the pluck, and how to walk like a
deer, and he made them practice the walk and the motions of the animal.
All this occupied eleven days.
29. On the twelfth day the Ute went out to hunt, leaving few men in
camp. There was a small inclosure of brushwood close to the tent; in it
were two high poles on which skins were dressed. His master left him,
that day, two skins to prepare, and he set to work at them and labored
hard scraping and rubbing them until about noon, when he felt hungry and
went into the tent to see if he could find anything to eat. He opened a
bag and found it to contain dried meat; he put some of this on the coals
and sat down to wait till it was done. As he watched the meat cooking he
heard a noise at the deer skin door of the tent and, looking up, he
beheld an old woman crawling in on her hands and knees. She passed once
around the fire and went out at the door again, but before she
disappeared she turned her head and addressed him, saying: “My
grandchild, do something for yourself.” He paused a moment in wonder at
the strange vision he had seen and the strange words he had heard, and
then he rushed out of the tent to follow his visitor and see who she
might be. He went around the tent four times; he gazed in every
direction; but no one was to be seen. During the rest of the day he
worked but little. Occasionally he took up a stone and rubbed the hides;
but most of the time he walked and loitered around, busy with his
thoughts.
30. After sunrise the hunters returned with an abundance of meat. They
came to the great lodge where the master of the Navajo dwelt; they
extended its circumference by removing the pegs at the bottom; they
stored the goods of the owner away at the outer edge, so as to leave a
clear space in the center, and made everything ready for the reception
of a large number of guests. After dark a great number gathered in the
tent and the captive was ordered by his master to bring some water. He
took two wicker bottles to a neighboring spring, filled them, and laid
them on the ground beside the spring, while he went to gather some
plants to stick into the mouths of the bottles as stopples. As he went
he heard a voice saying “Hist!” and looking in the direction whence it
came he saw a form sitting in the water; it wore a mask like the head of
a great owl and it was smoking a pipe. When he turned towards it, it
said, “You walk around like one without sense or knowledge. Why don’t
you do something for yourself? When next you hear my voice it will be
well for you if you walk towards it.”
31. The voice ceased and the form of the owl-man vanished. Then the
Navajo put the stopples into the vessels and carried them back. When he
returned he observed that two large dogs were tied to the door, one on
each side, and that three doors had been added to the lodge during his
absence, so that now there were four doors covering the doorway. When he
entered he found the lodge filled with Ute and he saw four bags of
tobacco and four pipes lying near the fire, one at each cardinal point
of the compass. He observed a very old man and a very old woman seated
at the door, one on each side. A cord tied to the old woman passed round
the edge of the lodge on one side, behind the spectators, to the west,
and another cord, tied to the man, passed round on the opposite side of
the lodge. His master bade him sit down in the west, and when he was
seated one of the cords was tied to his wrists and one to his ankles,
and thus he was secured to the old pair.
[Illustration: FIG. 50.
Qastcèëlçi, from a dry painting of the klèdji-qaçàl.]
32. Now he feared more than ever for his safety; he felt sure that his
captors contemplated his death by torture. The pipes were lit and the
council began. The talking in the strange tongue that he could not
understand had lasted long into the night, when he fancied that he heard
the voice of the Yèbitcai (Anglicized, Yày-bi-chy or Gay-bi chy) above
the din of human voices, saying “hu‘hu‘hu‘hu” in the far distance. He
strained his attention and listened well, and after a while he felt
certain that he heard the voice again nearer and louder. It was not long
until the cry was repeated for the third time, and soon after the
captive heard it once more, loudly and distinctly, immediately to the
west of the lodge. Then there was a sound as of footsteps at the door,
and the white lightning entered through the smoke-hole and circled
around the lodge, hanging over the heads of the council. But the Ute
heard not the voice which the Navajo heard and saw not the vision he
beheld. Soon the Yàybichy (Qastcèëlçi) entered the lodge and standing on
the white lightning, said: “What is the matter with you, my grandchild?
You take no thought about anything. Something you must do for yourself,
or else, in the morning you will be whipped to death--that is what the
council has decided. Pull out four pegs from the bottom of the tent,
push it open there, and then you can shove things through.” The Navajo
answered, “How shall I do it! See the way I am tied! I am poor! See how
I am wound up!” But Qastcèëlçi again said: “When you leave, take with
you those bags filled with embroideries and take with you tobacco from
the pouches near the fire.” Scarcely had Qastcèëlçi disappeared when the
Navajo heard a voice overhead, and a bird named qocçò¢i flew down
through the smoke-hole, hovered four times around the lodge over the
heads of the Ute, and departed by the way it had entered. In a moment
after it had disappeared a few of the Ute began to nod and close their
eyes; soon the others showed signs of drowsiness; some stretched
themselves out on the ground overpowered with sleep; others rose and
departed from time to time, singly and in little groups, to seek their
lodges and repose there. The last to drop asleep were the old man and
the old woman who sat at the door; but at length their chins fell upon
their bosoms. Then the Navajo, fearing no watchers, went to work and
loosened the cords that bound him; he lifted, from the inside, some of
the pegs which held the edge of the tent, and shoved out the two bags of
embroideries which Qastcèëlçi had told him to take. Passing out through
the door of the lodge, where he found both the watch-dogs sound asleep,
and taking with him the cords with which he had been tied and some of
the tobacco, he went round to the back of the lodge, where he had put
the bags; these he tied with the cords in such a manner that they would
make an easily balanced double bundle. He shouldered his bundle and was
all ready to start.
33. At this moment he heard, at a little distance to the south of where
he stood, the hoot of an owl. Instantly recollecting the words of the
owl-like form which he had encountered at the spring at nightfall, he
set off in the direction from which the call proceeded. He had not
walked far until he came to a precipitous bluff formed by two branching
cañons, and it seemed at first impossible for him to proceed farther.
Soon, however, he noticed a tall spruce tree, which grew beside the
precipice from the foot to the summit, for the day had now begun to dawn
and he could see objects more clearly. At this juncture Qastcèëlçi again
appeared to him and said: “How is it, my grandchild, that you are still
here? Get on the top of that spruce tree and go down into the cañon on
it.” The Navajo stretched out his hand to seize the top of the tree, but
it swayed away from his grasp. “See, my grandfather,” he said to
Qastcèëlçi, “it moves away from me; I cannot reach it.” Then Qastcèëlçi
flung the white lightning around the top of the tree, as an Indian
flings his lasso around the neck of a horse, and drew it in to the edge
of the cliff. “Descend,” he commanded the Indian, “and when you reach
the bottom take four sprays from the tree, each from a different part.
You may need them in the future.” So the Navajo went down, took the four
sprays as he was bidden and put them under his robe.
34. At the base of the bluff he again met Qastcèëlçi, and at this moment
he heard a noise, as of a great and distant tumult, which seemed to come
from above and from beyond the edge of the cliff whence they had
descended. From moment to moment it grew louder and came nearer, and
soon the sounds of angry voices could be distinguished. The Ute had
discovered the flight of their captive and were in hot pursuit. “Your
enemies are coming for you,” said the divine one; “but yonder small
holes on the opposite side of the cañon are the doors of my dwelling,
where you may hide. The bottom of the cañon is strewn with large rocks
and fallen trees; it would take you much time and hard labor to get over
these if I did not help you; but I will do something to make your way
easy.”--As he said this he blew a strong breath, and instantly a great
white rainbow spanned the cañon. The Navajo tried to step on this in
order to cross, but it was so soft that his feet went through; he could
not step on it. Qastcèëlçi stood beside him and laughed at his fruitless
attempts to get on the rainbow. After he had enjoyed this sport
sufficiently the ye (Anglicized, gay or yay) blew another strong breath,
when at once the rainbow became as hard as ice and they both crossed it
with ease. When they reached the opposite wall of the cañon Qastcèëlçi
pointed to a very small hole in the cliff and said, “This is the door of
my lodge; enter!” By this time the shouts of the Ute sounded very loud
in the ears of the terrified fugitive and it seemed to him that his
pursuers must have reached the edge of the opposite cliff, where they
would not be long before they would see him; still, hard as he tried to
enter the cave, he could not succeed; the hole was not big enough for
him to put his head in. The Yàybichy roared with laughter and slapped
his hands together as he witnessed the abject fear and the fruitless
efforts of the Navajo. When he had laughed enough he blew on the little
hole and it spread instantly into a large orifice, through which they
both entered with ease. They passed through three rooms and stopped in
the fourth. Here Qastcèëlçi took the bags from the back of the Navajo,
opened them, and drew from them some beautifully garnished
clothing--a pair of moccasins, a pair of long-fringed leggings, and a
shirt. He arrayed himself in these and went out, leaving the Navajo in
the cave. As soon as his rescuer was gone the fugitive heard loud noises
without and the sound of many angry voices, which continued for a long,
long time. At last they died away and were heard no more. The Ute had
tracked him to the edge of the cliff where he got on the tree; but there
they lost his trail and searched all the neighborhood to see if they
could regain it; hence the noises. When all was silent Qastcèëlçi
returned and said, “Your enemies have departed; you can leave in
safety.” So, taking a tanned elk skin to cover his back and a pair of
new moccasins to protect his feet, the Navajo set out from the cave.
35. It was nightfall when he emerged. He turned his face in the
direction of his home and walked rapidly all the night. As day dawned he
began to feel hopeful; but, ere the sun rose, distant sounds, which grew
louder and louder, reached his ear. He knew them to be the voices of his
pursuers and again he became sorely afraid. He hurried on and came near
the foot of a high isolated pinnacle of rock, whose top appeared to be
inaccessible. Glancing to the summit, however, he beheld standing there
a black mountain sheep. Thinking that this singular vision was sent to
him as a sign from the yays (gods) and boded well for him, he came to
the base of the rock, when the sheep addressed him, saying: “My
grandson, come around to the other side of the rock and you will find a
place where you may ascend.” He went around as he was bidden and saw the
cleft in the rock, but it was too narrow for him to climb in it. Then
the sheep blew into the cleft and it spread out so wide that he entered
it easily and clambered to the summit. Here he found the sheep standing
in four tracks, marked or sunken in the rock, one hoof in each track,
and under the center of his body was a small hole in the rock. Into this
hole the sheep bade him enter; but he replied that the hole was too
small. Then the sheep blew on the hole and it spread so wide open that
both the man and the sheep entered easily and descended into the heart
of the rock. Here there were again four apartments; two of them were
blue and two were black; rainbows extended in all directions through
them. In the fourth room, which was black, the sheep left the Navajo to
rest, and departed. Soon the fugitive heard, as on the previous day,
when he lay hidden in the cave of Qastcèëlçi, the voices of the angry
Ute calling and haranguing all around the rock, and he continued to hear
them for a very long time. Soon after the clamor ceased the sheep
returned to him to notify him that his enemies had withdrawn and that he
could set out on his journey again without fear.
36. He journeyed homeward all the night, and when daylight began to
appear he found himself on the banks of the stream where the Ute slept
the night before they reached their tents, when they bore him home a
captive. Here again he heard in the distance the voices of his pursuers
and he hastened his steps. Presently he met a little old man sitting on
the ground and cleaning cactus fruit. The old man had a sharp nose,
little bright eyes, and a small moustache growing on each side of his
upper lip. At once the Navajo recognized him as the Bushrat (_Neotoma
mexicana_). The latter asked the traveler where he came from. “Oh, I am
just roaming around here,” was the answer. But the rat, not satisfied,
repeated his question three times, in a manner which gave the Navajo to
understand that his answer was not credited. So at last he answered
truthfully that he was a Navajo who had been captured by the Ute, and
that he was fleeing homeward from his captors, who were at that moment
close behind him in pursuit. “It is well,” said the rat, “that you have
told me this, for I think I can save you. On yonder hillside there is a
flat rock, and round about it are piled many little sticks and stones.
It is my home, and I will guide you thither.” He led the Indian to the
rock and, showing him a small hole under it, bade him stoop low and
place his head near the hole. As the Navajo obeyed the rat blew a strong
breath on the hole, which at once opened wide enough to let the visitor
in. The rat followed immediately behind him as he entered. Inside of the
den there were an old woman, two young men, and two young women. These
constituted the family of the Bush-rat, who left the den as soon as the
stranger was safely housed. Soon the voices of the pursuing Ute were
again heard around the rock and at the mouth of the den, and the Navajo
sat a long time in silence listening to them. After a while the rat
woman said to him, “You seem to be tired and hungry. Will you have
something to eat?” and he answered, “Yes; I am very hungry and would
like some food.” On hearing this she went into one corner of her
dwelling, where were many chips and bones and shells of seeds and skins
of fruits, and she brought him some of these and offered them to him;
but at this moment the wind god whispered into his ear and warned him
not to partake of the refuse; so he said to the woman; “My mother, I can
not eat these things.” Then she went to another corner of the den, where
there was another pile of debris; but again the wind god prompted him
and again he refused. After this she visited in turn two other piles of
trash in the corners of her lodge and tried to make him accept it as
food, but he still rejected it. Now, while he had been sitting in the
lodge he had not failed to look around him, and he had observed a long
row of wicker jars standing at one side. At one end of the row was a
black vessel and at the other end a white vessel. When she at length
asked him, “What food is it that you would have, my son?” the wind god
whispered to him, “Ask her for that which is in the jars at the end of
the row,” and he replied, “I will take some food from the black jar and
some from the white jar.” She removed the stopples from the jars. From
the black vessel she took nuts of the piñon and fruit of the yucca and
from the white vessel she took cherries and cactus fruit, all of which
he received in the folded corner of his elk robe. He was just about to
partake of some of the nice fruit when again he heard the low voice of
the wind god. This time it said, “Eat not the food of the rats in the
home of the rats, if you would not become a rat; wait till you go out
to-night.” Much, as he longed for the food, after hearing this, he
tasted it not, but held it in the fold of the elk skin. Late in the day
they were all astonished by hearing a loud rattling noise at the mouth
of the cave, and, looking in that direction, saw the end of a big stick,
which was thrust viciously from time to time into the opening and poked
around in different directions; but it was not long enough to reach to
the place where they sat. “What is that?” said the woman. “Oh,” answered
the Navajo, “that is the Ute, who have trailed me to this hole and hope
to kill me by poking that stick in here.” The old rat watched from a
secret place outside all the actions of the Ute, and when he came home
at night he asked his family if the stick had hurt any of them. “We saw
only the end of it,” they replied. He then turned to the Navajo and
said, “Your pursuers have disappeared; you may go out without fear.”
37. He trudged wearily on all night, and at dawn he was beside the high
volcanic rocks at Çòtsosi, another place where his captors had halted
with him. There is one place where the rocky wall is quite smooth. As he
was passing this place he heard a voice saying, “Sh!” He looked all
around him, but saw nothing that could have made the sound. He was about
to pass on when he again heard the voice, and, looking around, he again
saw no one. The fourth time that this happened, however, he observed in
the smooth part of the rock a door standing open and a little animal
called Kleyatcini looking out at him. As he stood gazing at the sharp
nose and the bright eyes the distant voices of his pursuers sounded
again in his ears and the little animal bade him enter and hide himself.
As the Navajo entered the Kleyatcini passed out and closed the door
behind him. The fugitive was not long in his place of concealment when
the clamor made by the foiled pursuers was again heard, but it ceased
sooner than usual. It was not yet sunset when the little animal returned
to announce that the Ute had gone from the neighborhood. When the Navajo
stepped out of the hole in the rock, Kleyatcini pointed out to him the
mountains in which his home lay and counseled him to travel directly
towards them.
38. He pursued his way in the direction indicated to him all night, and
at break of day he found himself walking between a pair of low hills of
clay which stood close together, and once more he heard behind him the
voices of his enemies and the trampling of their horses. But now his
good friend Qastcèëlçi appeared to him and said to him: “My grandchild,
are you still here? Have you come only thus far?” “I am here,” cried the
Navajo, “and oh, my grandfather, I could do no better. Look at my limbs!
See how sore and swollen they are! I am exhausted and feel that I cannot
flee much farther before my enemies.” “Go, then,” said Qastcèëlçi, “to
that hill which is the farther from us and climb to the top of it; but,
when you are taking the very last step which will place you on the
summit, shut your eyes as you make that step.” The Navajo hastened to
the hill, and, weary as he was, he soon ascended it. As he lifted his
foot to take the last step he closed his eyes, as the yay had bidden
him. When he felt his foot again on the earth he opened his eyes, and
lo! instead of having a little hill under his feet, he stood on the
summit of a great mountain peak, seamed with deep cañons, bordered with
rugged rocks, and clothed with great forests of pine and spruce; while
far away on the plain at the foot of the mountain--so far that he could
scarcely discern them--were his baffled pursuers, and beside him stood
Qastcèëlçi. The latter pointed out to him many familiar places in the
distance--the valley of the San Juan, and Dsilyi‘-qojòni (Beautiful in
the Mountains), where he and his people first lived. He rested securely
on the mountain top all day.
39. At sunset he went on his way again. When daylight began to appear he
crossed the San Juan. Soon after, while journeying on over an open
plain, he once more heard the Ute on his trail. He now felt very sad and
hopeless, for his limbs were so stiff and swollen that every motion gave
him pain and he could hardly drag himself along. But at this moment he
became conscious that he was not alone, and glancing to one side he saw
Niltci, the wind god, walking with him. And Niltci brought a great dark
whirlwind, which roared a moment beside them and then buried its point
in the ground and dug a deep hole there; it dug a cavern with four
chambers. Then dark clouds gathered and rain began to fall. “Have you
anything with you that may help you?” asked the god. “I have nothing,”
said the Navajo, “but four sprays of spruce, which the Yàybichy bade me
pluck from the tree on which I descended into the cañon the night I left
the Ute camp.” “They will do,” said the wind god. “Make quickly four
balls of mud and thrust through each ball a twig of the spruce, and lay
them on the ground so that the tops of the twigs will point towards your
enemies.” The Navajo did as he was commanded. Then Niltci blew the twigs
and mud balls in the direction of the pursuers and told the Navajo to
descend into the retreat which the whirlwind had formed. He went down
and rested secure, while he heard overhead great peals of thunder, the
loud rushing of the tempest, and the heavy pattering of enormous
hailstones, to bring which the mud balls had been made. The noises of
the storm died away, and about midday Niltci came into the cave and said
to the man: “Come forth; your enemies have been dispersed. Many have
been killed by the hail, and the rest have gone towards their homes.”
Then the Navajo came up out of the ground and set out in the direction
of his old home at Dsilyi‘-qojòni.
40. It was about sunset when he reached the top of the mountain. The
snow began to fall heavily and a strong wind began to blow. He walked on
to the western brow of the mountain, where there was a great precipice.
Here the storm blew with such violence that he could scarcely stand, and
yet the precipice was so steep that he did not see how he could get
down. But soon, as on a former occasion of this kind, he discovered a
spruce tree which grew against the side of the precipice, and at the
same time Qastcèëlçi appeared to him again and directed him to go down
on the spruce tree. He did so, and when he reached the bottom he found
the yay there awaiting him. He addressed Qastcèëlçi: “Oh, my
grandfather, I am tired and sore and sleepy. I would like to lie down
under this tree and sleep.” But the god answered, “Go, my grandchild, to
yonder fire and rest,” and he pointed to a distant gleam on the side of
a mountain which lay beyond a very deep valley. “No, my grandfather,”
cried the Navajo, “I am weary and my limbs are sore and weak; I can not
travel so far.” “I will help you,” said the yay, and as he spoke he
spanned the valley with a flash of lightning, over which he led the man
to the distant mountain. They reached it at a point close to the fire;
but the moment they stood again on the firm earth Qastcèëlçi and the
fire vanished. The man was bewildered and at a loss what to do. He
walked around the mountain a short distance and then changed his mind
and walked back to the place from which he started. Here he found
Qastcèëlçi awaiting him. The yay spoke not a word, but pointed down into
the valley and led the way thither. At the bottom of the valley they
came to a great hole in the ground; the yay pointed in and again led the
way. As they advanced into the cave the air grew warmer. In a little
while they discovered a bright fire on which there was no wood. Four
pebbles lay on the ground together: a black pebble in the east, a blue
one in the south, a yellow one in the west, and a white one in the
north; from these the flames issued forth. Around the fire lay four
bears, colored and placed to correspond with the pebbles. When the
strangers approached the fire the bears asked them for tobacco, and when
the former replied that they had none the bears became angry and thrice
more demanded it. When the Navajo fled from the Ute camp he had helped
himself from one of the four bags which the council was using and had
taken a pipe, and these he had tied up in his skin robe; so when the
fourth demand was made he filled the pipe and lighted it at the fire. He
handed the pipe to the black bear, who, taking but one whiff, passed it
to the blue bear and immediately fell senseless. The blue bear took two
whiffs and passed the pipe, when he too fell over in a state of
unconsciousness. The yellow bear succumbed after the third whiff, and
the white bear, in the north, after the fourth whiff. Now the Navajo
knocked the ashes and tobacco out of his pipe and rubbed the latter on
the feet, legs, abdomen, chest, shoulders, forehead, and mouth of each
of the bears in turn, and they were at once resuscitated. He replaced
the pipe in the corner of his robe. When the bears recovered they
assigned to the Navajo a place on the east side of the fire where he
might lie all night, and they brought out their stores of corn meal and
tciltcin and other berries and offered them to him to eat; but
Qastcèëlçi warned him not to touch the food and again disappeared. So,
hungry as he was, the Indian lay down supperless to sleep. When he woke
in the morning the bears again offered food, which he again declined,
saying he was not hungry. Then they showed him how to make the bear
kethàwns, or sticks to be sacrificed to the bear gods, and they drew
from one corner of the cave a great sheet of cloud, which they unrolled,
and on it were painted the forms of the yays of the cultivated plants.
As he departed the bears said, “There are others in these parts who have
secrets to tell you. Yonder is Tsenástci, where many dwell.” So he set
forth for Tsenástci (Circle of Red Stones.)
41. As he passed down the valley he heard a loud rushing noise be hind
him, and looking around he beheld a tornado. The air was filled with
logs and uprooted trees, borne along by the great storm. It came nearer
and seemed to be advancing to destroy him. He was terrified and cried
out to the storm: “Ciyèïcçe, Dsilyi‘ Neyáni. Quaïláçi?” (“’Tis I, Reared
Within the Mountains. Who art thou?”) The tempest recognized him and
subsided, and in its place appeared four men in the shape of the glòï or
weasel. The four weasel men showed him how to make the glòï-bikeçan, or
sacrificial sticks of the glòï. What name the Navajo bore before this
time the ancient tale does not tell us; but from the moment he said
these words he was called among the gods Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, and was
afterwards known by this name among his people.
42. After this adventure he continued on his way to Tsenástci. He had
not journeyed far when he met the wind god, who said to him: “Those whom
you will meet at Tsenástci are evil ones; therefore I will be with you
and will walk before you.” When they came to Tsenástci they found a hole
in the rocks guarded by two great rattlesnakes, one on each side, and
covered by two piñon trees, for a door. When the travelers drew near,
the serpents showed signs of great anger, and when the former approached
the door the reptiles shook their rattles violently, thrust out their
tongues, and struck at the intruders as though they would bite them; but
they did not bite. Niltci thrust aside the piñon trees; he and his
companions entered, and, when they had passed within, the piñon trees,
moving of their own accord, closed the entrance behind them. Within they
encountered a bald headed old man who had only a little tuft of hair
over each ear. This was Klictsò, the Great Serpent. He asked Niltci who
his human companion was, and the wind god answered that he was a Navajo
who had been captured by the Ute, but had escaped from them and had
suffered many hardships. On hearing this Klictsò showed the Indian how
to make the kethàwns, now known to the Navajo shamans as
klictsò-bikeçan, or sacrificial sticks of the Great Serpent, and he told
him how to plant these sacrifices.
43. From the home of Klictsò they went to a place called Tse‘binàyol
(Wind Circles Around a Rock). When they drew near the place they heard
loud peals of thunder and the lightning struck close to them in four
different places. They were now approaching the home of the lightning
gods; this is why destruction by the thunderbolt seemed to threaten
them. Then the Navajo spoke to the lightning, as he had formerly spoken
to the whirlwind, saying, “’Tis I, Reared Within the Mountains. Who art
thou?” whereat the thunder and the lightning ceased, and the travelers
walked on until they entered a house of black clouds, inside of a
mountain, which was the house of I‘¢nì‘, the Lightning. He was bald,
like the Great Serpent, having only a little tuft of hair over each ear.
At each of the four sides of the room where I‘¢nì‘ sat was a lightning
bird; that in the east was black, that in the south was blue, that in
the west, yellow, and that in the north, white. From time to time the
birds flashed lightning from their claws to the center of the room where
the god sat, and the lightning was of the same color as the bird that
emitted it. When the travelers entered I‘¢nì‘ said to Niltci, “Who is
this that you have brought with you?” The latter answered, “It is a
Navajo who has been a captive with the Ute and has escaped. He has
suffered much. See how his knees and ankles are swollen.” Then the
Lightning showed him two kethàwns, such as the shamans now sacrifice
under the name of I‘¢nì‘-bikeçan, or sacrificial sticks of the
lightning, and, having instructed him how to make and to plant these, he
bade his visitors depart.
44. The next place they reached on their journey was Sàï byitsòzi
(Narrow Sand Hills). They entered the hill and came to the house of
Ka¢lùgi, the Butterfly, a dwelling filled with butterflies and rainbows.
They found Ka¢lùgi and his wife sitting there, and also Atsòs-bebagàni
(House of Feathers), who wore black leggings. Here Niltci disappeared
and the woman had to put her questions to the Navajo. She inquired, as
the others had done, who he was, and he briefly told her his story. She
arose, went out, and presently returned with a large basin made of a
beautiful white shell; this was filled with water and soap root. She
laid it before the Navajo, saying, “You are about to visit some fair and
beautiful people, and it is proper that you should bathe your body and
wash your hair well.” When he had finished his bath he of the house of
feathers took fine corn meal and applied it to the feet, the knees, the
abdomen, and the other parts of the body which are usually touched in
healing ceremonies. Then, under the directions of Atsòs-bebagàni, the
Navajo rubbed his whole body with meal to dry himself and painted his
face white with glee (white earth}. House of Feathers next brought in
small bundles of the following plants: tcil¢elgísi (_Gutierrezia
euthamiæ_), çoikal (_Artemesia trifida_), tséji, and tlo‘nasçási
(_Bouteloua hirsuta_), burned them to charcoal, and directed the Indian
to blacken his legs and forearms with this substance. When this was done
he put spots of white on the black, and, in short, painted him as the
akáninili, or courier (Fig. 52) sent out to summon guests to the dance,
is painted to this day in the ceremonies of the dsilyídje qaçàl. When
the painting was done Ka¢lùgi Esçáya (Butterfly Woman) took hold of his
hair and pulled it downward and stretched it until it grew in profusion
down to his ankles. Then she pressed and worked his body and face all
over until she molded him into a youth of the most beautiful form and
feature. They gave him fine white moccasins and a collar of beaver skin
with a whistle attached to it; they put the kàbasçan, or plumed sticks
to represent wings, on his arms, and altogether dressed and adorned him
as the akáninili is dressed and adorned. The woman gave him white corn
meal mixed with water to eat, and he slept all night in the house of the
butterflies. In the morning the woman (or goddess, as we might better
call her) laid two streaks of white lightning on the ground and bade him
stand on them with one foot on each streak. “Now,” she said, “the white
lightning is yours; use it how and when you will.” Then she told him to
go to the top of the hill in which their house lay. When he ascended he
found another house on the top, and in it he again met Ka¢lùgi and his
wife, who awaited him there. He observed a streak of white lightning
that spanned a broad valley, stretching from the hill on which he stood
to a distant wooded mountain. “There,” said Ka¢lùgi Esçáya, pointing to
the lightning, “is the trail you must follow. It leads to yonder
mountain, which is named Bistcàgi.”
45. He followed the lightning trail and soon arrived at the house of
Estsàu-¢igìni (Holy Woman). The house was inside of a black mountain;
but the lightning ended not until it went quite into the dwelling; so he
had only to follow it to find his way in. The door was of trees. Within,
on the east wall hung the sun and on the west wall hung the moon. Here
he was shown the kethàwn which is called Estsàn-¢igìnibikeçàn, or the
sacrificial stick of the holy woman, and was told how to make it and how
to bury it. As he was about to depart from this place two of the wind
gods and the butterfly god appeared to him, and the whole party of four
set out for Tcùckai (Chusca Knoll of our geographers).
46. At this place they entered a house which was inside of the mountain.
It was two stories high; it had four rooms on the first story and four
on the second. It had four doorways, which were covered with trees for
doors; in the east was a black spruce tree, in the south a blue spruce
tree, in the west a yellow spruce tree, and in the north a white shining
spruce tree. Here dwelt four of the Tcikè-cac-nátlehi (Maiden that
Becomes a Bear). Their faces were white; their legs and forearms were
covered with shaggy hair; their hands were like those of human beings;
but their teeth were long and pointed. The first Tcikè-cac-nátlehi, it
is said, had twelve brothers. She learned the art of converting herself
into a bear from the coyote. She was a great warrior and invulnerable.
When she went to war she took out and hid her vital organs, so that no
one could kill her; when the battle was over she put them back in their
places again. The maidens showed him how to make four kethàwns and told
him how to bury them in order to properly sacrifice them.
47. From Tcùckai they went to Ninà-qo¢ezgòç (Valley Surrounded on All
Sides by Hills), near [¢]epéntsa, where they found the house of the
Tsilkè-¢igìni (Holy Young Men), of whom there were four. There were, in
the dwelling, four rooms, which had not smooth walls, but looked like
rooms in a cavern; yet the house was made of water. A number of plumed
arrows (kátso-yisçàn) were hanging on the walls, and each young man
(standing one in the east, one in the south, one in the west, and one in
the north) held such an arrow in his extended right hand. No kethàwn was
given him; but he was bidden to observe well how the holy young warriors
stood, that he might imitate them in the rites he should establish
amongst men.
48. The next place they visited was Tse‘ça-iskági (Rock that Bends
Back), where they entered a house, striped within horizontally of many
colors, and found eight more of the Tsilkè-¢igìni (Holy Young Men). Two
stood at each cardinal point and each one grasped a sapling which he
held over his upturned mouth, as if about to swallow it. One of the
young men addressed him, saying “Do thus. There are eight of us here;
but when you do this in the dance that you will teach your people you
need not have eight young men--six will be enough.”
49. From here they went to Tcétcel-hyitsò (Big Oaks), to visit the home
of [¢]igin-yosíni (yosíni is a species of squirrel). It was built of
black water-slime (çraçlíç) and the door was of red sunbeams. On the
east wall hung a big black log; on the south wall, a blue log; on the
west wall, a yellow log; and on the north wall, a white log; in which
logs the squirrels dwelt. Although they were squirrels, they were young
men and young women, and looked very much like one another. All had red
and black stripes on their backs. These taught him how to make and bury
the kethàwns sacred to themselves.
50. Dsilninèla‘ (Last Mountain) is a conical, sharp pointed eminence,
shaped like a Navajo hogan or lodge. It is black and has white streaks
running down its sides. This was the next place they visited. Within the
mountain was a house, whose door was of darkness and was guarded by
Tcápani (the Bat) and an animal called Çantsò (of crepuscular or
nocturnal habits). Here dwelt many young men and young women who were
skunks (golíji), and they taught the Navajo wanderer how to make and how
to bury the kethàwns which are sacred to the skunk.
51. The next place to which they went was Dsil-nikí¢i-àgi (Mountain
Comes Down Steep), and here they found the place where Glo‘dsilkàï
(Abert’s squirrel, _Sciurus aberti_) and Glo‘dsiljíni dwelt. When the
four entered, the squirrels said to them: “What do you want here? You
are always visiting where you are not welcome.” The gods replied: “Be
not angry with us. This is a Navajo who was a captive among the Ute, but
he has escaped and has suffered much. I‘¢nì‘ (the Lightning) has bidden
us to take him to the homes of all the ¢igìni (holy ones, supernatural
beings); therefore we have brought him here.” “It is well,” said the
squirrels; “but he is hungry and must have some food.” They brought him
piñon nuts, pine nuts, spruce nuts, and service berries; but the gods
told him not to partake of the nuts or he would be changed into a
squirrel, to eat only of the service berries. When he had finished his
meal, the squirrels showed him how to make two kethàwns and how to bury
them.
52. Now Niltci whispered: “Let us go to Dsilyà-içín” (Four Doorways
Under a Mountain), where dwells [¢]asàni (the Porcupine). His house was
in a black mountain. At the eastern doorway there was a black spruce
tree for a door. On the other sides there were no doors; the entrances
were open. They found here four porcupine gods, two male and two female.
They were colored according to the four cardinal hues. The black one
stood in the east, the blue one in the south, the yellow one in the
west, and the white one in the north. They instructed him concerning the
kethàwns of the porcupines, and they offered him food, which consisted
of the inner bark of different kinds of trees. But again, prompted by
Niltci, he refused the food, saying that he was not able to eat food of
that kind. “It is well,” said the porcupines, “and now you may leave
us.”
53. “Off in this direction,” whispered Niltci, pointing to the
northeast, “is a place called Qo¢estsò (Where Yellow Streak Runs Down).
Let us go thither.” Here they entered a house of one room, made of black
water. The door was of wind. It was the home of Tcal-ninéz (Long-Frog),
of Çoklíc (Water Snake), of Klickà (Arrow Snake), and of other serpents
and animals of the water. It was called Ahyèqo¢eçi‘ (They Came
Together), because here the prophet of the dsilyídje qaçàl visited the
home of the snakes and learned something of their mysteries. The
ceremonies sacred to these animals belong to another dance, that of the
qojòni-qaçàl (chant of terrestrial beauty); but in the mysteries learned
in Ahyèqo¢eçi‘ the two ceremonies are one. Here he was instructed how to
make and to sacrifice four kethàwns. To symbolize this visit of Dsilyi‘
Neyáni and this union of the two ceremonies, the first sand picture is
made. (See Plate XV.)
54. The next place they visited was Açànkikè, where there was a house
built of the white rock crystal, with a door made of all sorts of
plants. It was called Tsegà¢iniçini-behogan (House of Rock Crystal) and
was the home of Tcikè-¢igìni (Supernatural Young Woman, or Young Woman
Goddess), who was the richest of all the ¢igìni. In the middle of the
floor stood a large crystal in the shape of a kethàwn. Just as they were
entering, Qastcèëlçi, who had disappeared from the Navajo’s sight at the
house of the bears, here rejoined him, and the party now numbered five.
The apartment, when they came into it, was very small, but Qastcèëlçi
blew on the walls, which extended thereat until the room was one of
great size. The goddess showed the Navajo how to make two kethàwns and
directed him how to dispose of them.
55. Thence they journeyed to Tsitsè-intyèli (Broad Cherry Trees), where,
in a house of cherries with a door of lightning, there lived four gods
named Dsilyi‘ Neyáni (Reared Within the Mountains). The Navajo was
surprised to find that not only had they the same name as he had, but
that they looked just like him and had clothes exactly the same as his,
His companions said to him: “These are the gods in whose beautiful form
the Butterfly goddess has molded you. These are the gods whose name you
bear.” The hosts bade their visitors be seated, and they ranged
themselves around the fire, one at each of the cardinal points. Each
held an arrow made of the cliff rose (_Cowania mexicana_) in his
extended right hand. The head of the arrow was of stone, the fletching
of eagle feathers, and the “breath feather” of the downy plume of the
Tsenáhale (the Harpy of Navajo mythology). As they held the arrows they
ejaculated, “ai‘, ai‘, ai‘, ai‘,” as they who dance the kátso-yisçàu do
in the ceremonies to this day, and after the fourth ai‘ each one
swallowed his arrow, head foremost, until the fletching touched his
lips. Then he withdrew the arrow and they said: “Thus do we wish the
Navajo to do in the dance which you will teach them; but they must take
good care not to break off the arrowheads when they swallow and withdraw
them.” Such is the origin of the dance of the kátso-yisçàn, or great
plumed arrow. As they bade him good-bye, one of them said to the Navajo:
“We look for you,” i.e., “We expect you to return to us,” an intimation
to him that when he left the earth he should return to the gods, to
dwell among them forever.
56. From this place they journeyed on until they reached Açàdsil (Leaf
Mountain), and found the house that was made of dew-drops
([¢]açò-behogan) and that had a door made of plants of many different
kinds. This was the home of the Bitsès-ninéz (Long Bodies), who were
goddesses. When they rose, as the strangers entered, the plumes on their
heads seemed to touch the heavens, they were so very tall. The goddesses
said to Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, “We give you no kethàwn, but look at us well and
remember how we appear, for in your ceremonies you must draw our
picture; yet draw us not, as we now stand, in the east, the south, the
west, and the north; but draw us as if we all stood in the east.” This
is the origin of the second picture that is painted on the sand.
(Plate XVI.)
57. Leaving the House of Dew they proceeded to Çonakàï (White Water
Running Across). This was a stream which ran down the side of a hill and
had its source in a great spring. Immediately above this spring was the
home of Qastcèëlçi. The latter, as they approached his home, stopped at
the foot of the hill and four times ordered his companions to go in
advance; but four times they refused. After the last refusal Qastcèëlçi
clapped his hands, uttered his cry of “hu‘hu‘hu‘hu‘!” and led the way.
The house was of corn pollen; the door was of daylight; the ceiling was
supported by four white spruce trees; rainbows ran in every direction
and made the house shine within with their bright and beautiful colors.
Neither kethàwn nor ceremony was shown the Navajo here; but he was
allowed to tarry four nights and was fed with an abundance of white corn
meal and corn pollen.
58. Now Qastcèëlçi took him to a place called Lejpáhiço (Brown Earth
Water) and led him to the top of a high hill, from which they could see
in the far distance Gángiço, where the prophet’s family dwelt; for they
had moved away from the valley in [¢]epéntsa, where he left them. Then
the yay showed him the shortest road to take and bade him return to his
people.
59. When he got within sight of his house his people made him stop and
told him not to approach nearer until they had summoned a Navajo shaman.
When the latter, whose name was Red Queue, came, ceremonies were
performed over the returned wanderer, and he was washed from head to
foot and dried with corn meal; for thus do the Navajo treat all who
return to their homes from captivity with another tribe, in order that
all alien substances and influences may be removed from them. When he
had been thus purified he entered the house and his people embraced him
and wept over him. But to him the odors of the lodge were now
intolerable and he soon left the house and sat outside. Seeing this, the
shaman gave it as his opinion that the purification already made was not
sufficient, and that it would be well to have a great dance over him. In
those days the Navajo had a healing dance in the dark corral; but it was
imperfect, with few songs and no kethàwns or sacrificial sticks. It was
not until Dsilyi‘ Neyáni recounted his revelations that it became the
great dance it now is among the Navajo.
60. It was agreed that before the dance began Dsilyi‘ Neyáni should be
allowed four days and four nights in which to tell his story and that
the medicine man should send out a number of young men to collect the
plants that were necessary for the coming ceremony. For four nights and
for four days he was busy in relating his adventures and instructing his
hearers in all the mysteries he had learned in the homes of the ¢igìni.
Then they built the medicine lodge and got all things ready for the new
rites and for the purification of the one who had returned. The shaman
selected from among the plants brought him by the young men such as he
thought would best cleanse his patient of all the strange food he had
taken among the alien Indians and in the houses of the supernatural ones
whom he had visited. On the first day he gave him pine and spruce; on
the second day, big and little willows; on the third day, a plant called
litci and the aromatic sumac; on the fourth day, cedar and piñon. Of
these the prophet drank cold and hot infusions in the morning by the
fire.
61. During these four days the ceremonies which Dsilyi‘ Neyáni had
introduced were in progress. On the fifth day it was proposed they
should send out the akáninili (meal sprinkler) or courier to invite
their neighbors to the great dance. There were two couriers to be sent:
one was to go to the north, to a place called Çògojilá‘ (Much Grease
Wood), to invite some friendly bands of Ute, some distant bands of
Navajo, and some Jicarilla who dwelt there; the other was to go to the
south, to Tse‘lakàī-silà (Where Two White Rocks Lie), to ask the
Southern Apache, the White Mountain Apache, the Cohonino, and a tribe
called [¢]ildjèhe, to attend. To the camp in the north it was a journey
of two days and two nights, and it would take the fleetest runner the
same time to return. To the home of their neighbors in the south it was
as far. As these long journeys must be made on foot and running, they
could not find a single young man in the camp who would volunteer for
the task. The men counseled about the difficulty all day and tried much
persuasion on the youths, but none were found willing to make either
journey.
62. As night approached an old woman entered the medicine lodge and
said: “I will send my grandson as an akáninili.” This old woman’s lodge
was not far from where the medicine lodge was built and all present knew
her grandson well. Whenever they visited her lodge he was always lying
on the ground asleep; they never saw him go abroad to hunt, and they all
supposed him to be lazy and worthless; so when she made her offer they
only looked at one another and laughed. She waited awhile, and getting
no response she again offered the services of her grandson, only to
provoke again laughter and significant looks. A third and a fourth time
she made her proposal, and then she said: “Why do you not at least
answer me? I have said that I will let my grandson take your messages to
one of these camps and you laugh at me and thank me not. Why is this?”
Hearing her words, the chief medicine man, who came from a distant camp
and did not know her, asked the men who were present who the woman was
and what sort of a young man her grandson was; but again the men laughed
and did not answer him either. He turned to the old woman and said:
“Bring hither your grandson, that I may see him.” The woman answered:
“It is already late; the night is falling and the way is long. It is of
no use for you to see him to-night; let us wait until the morning.”
“Very well,” said the shaman; “bring him at dawn to-morrow.” She left
the lodge promising to do as she was bidden; and the moment she was gone
the long suppressed merriment of the men broke forth. They all laughed
inordinately, made many jokes about the lazy grandson, and told the
medicine man that there was no use in sending such a person with the
message when the best runners among them did not dare to undertake the
journey. “He is too weak and lazy to hunt,” said they; “he lives on
seeds and never tastes flesh.”
63. As soon as there was light enough in the morning to discern objects,
a man who was looking out of the door of the medicine lodge cried out,
“He comes,” and those inside laughed and waited. Presently Tlà¢esçìni
(such was the name of the old woman’s grandson) entered and sat down
near the fire. All looked at him in astonishment. When last they saw him
his hair was short and matted, as if it had not been combed or washed
for three years, and his form was lean and bent. Now he appeared with
thick glossy locks that fell below his knee; his limbs were large and
firm looking; he held his head erect and walked like a youth of courage;
and many said to one another, “This cannot be the same man.” In a little
while another young man named Indsiskàï (Radiating White Streaks), as
fair and robust as the first, entered and sat down by the fire on the
side opposite to where Tlà¢esçìni sat. The white earth and the charcoal
for painting the akáninili were already prepared; so some of the young
men in the lodge, when they beheld this pair of fine couriers, arose
without a word of debate and began to paint the latter and to adorn
their persons for the journey. When the toilet was done, the medicine
man sent the couriers forth with many messages and injunctions and told
them to blow on their whistles four times before they got out of hearing
of the lodge. Tlà¢esçìni went to the north and Indsiskàï to the south,
and they walked so slowly that all the spectators again laughed and made
merry, and many said: “They will never reach the camps whither we have
sent them.” They passed out of sight just before the sun rose. Those who
remained in camp prepared to amuse themselves. They cleared the ground
for the game of náⁿjoj, and brought out their sticks and hoops. Some
said: “We will have plenty of time for play before the couriers return.”
Others said: “At yonder tree we saw Tlà¢esçìni last. I suppose if we
went there now we would find him asleep under it.”
64. About the middle of the afternoon, while they were playing their
games, one looked to the north, and, at a distance, he saw one of the
messengers approaching them, and he cried out, “Here comes Tlà¢esçìni;
he has wakened from his sleep and is coming back for something to eat.”
A moment later Indsiskàï was announced as approaching from the south.
They both reached the door of the medicine lodge at the same time; but
Tlà¢esçìni entered first, handed his bag to the medicine man, and sat
down in the same place where he sat when he entered in the morning.
Indsiskàï followed and, handing his bag to the shaman, sat down opposite
his companion. Now, many who were without thronged into the lodge to
enjoy the sport, and they laughed and whispered among themselves; but
the couriers were grave and silent, and, while the medicine man opened
the bags, they took off their ornaments and washed the paint from their
bodies. In the bag of Tlà¢esçìni were found four ears of léjyipĕj (corn
baked in the husk underground). They were still hot from the fire, and
the shaman broke them into fragments and passed the pieces around. From
the bag of Indsiskàï two pieces of noçá‘ (the hard sugar of the maguey),
such as the Apache make, were taken. When the young men had finished
cleaning themselves, they passed out in silence, without a glance for
any one.
65. At nightfall they returned to the lodge, and entering, sat down in
the west, one on each side of the medicine man, and Tlà¢esçìni addressed
him, saying: “When we came to the lodge this afternoon, we did not give
you an account of our journeys because the people who are with you are
fools, who laughed when we came home from the long journey which they
feared to undertake; but now we have come to tell you our
adventures. I,” continued Tlà¢esçìni, “went to the north. On my way I
met another messenger who was traveling from a distant camp to this one
to call you all to a dance in a circle of branches of a different kind
from ours. When he learned my errand he tried to prevail on me to return
hither and put off our dance till another day, so that we might attend
their ceremony and that they in turn might attend ours; but I refused,
saying our people were in haste to complete their dance. Then we
exchanged bows and quivers as a sign to our people that we had met and
that what we would tell on our return was the truth. You observe that
the bow and quiver I have now are not those with which I left this
morning. We parted, and I kept on my way towards the north. It was yet
early in the day when I reached Çògojilá‘, where the Jicarilla and
friendly Ute were encamped. There I sprinkled meal on the medicine man
and gave him my message. When I arrived they were just opening a pit in
which they had roasted corn, and they gave me the ears which I have
brought home. They promised to be here in our camp at the end of the
third day, which will be the night of our dance.”
66. When Tlà¢esçìni had done speaking, Indsiskàï gave the following
account of himself: “It was but a little while after sunrise when I
reached Tse‘lakàï-silà and entered the camps of the four tribes. In one
they were just taking some noçá‘ out of a pit, and they gave me those
pieces which I brought home. I entered the lodge of a medicine man in
each tribe, scattered on him the sacred meal, and announced to him when
our dance would take place. They all promised to be here with their
people on the end of the third day, which will be on the night we hold
our ceremony.”
67. When the akáninilis came to tell their adventures to the medicine
man, they were beautifully attired. They wore earrings and necklaces of
turquoise, coral, and rare shells. They had on embroidered blankets of a
kind we see no longer, but the gods wore them in the ancient days. They
rustled like dry leaves. The blanket of one was black and that of the
other was white. When they came out of the medicine lodge they went
around among the huts and inclosures of those who were assembled,
visiting the wives and the sweethearts of the silly men who had laughed
at them in the morning; and everywhere the women smiled on the beautiful
and well dressed youths. The next morning the men laughed and sneered at
them no more, nor whispered in their presence, but glanced at them with
sulky or shamefaced looks. During the day the akáninilis took part in
the game of náⁿjoj with those who once jeered at them, and won many
articles of great value.
68. On the afternoon of the third day following the one on which the
akáninilis made their journeys, a great cloud of dust was observed on
the northern horizon and a similar cloud was seen in the south. They
grew greater and came nearer, and then the invited Indians began to
arrive from both directions. They continued to come in groups until
nightfall, when a great multitude had assembled to witness the dance.
After the guests began to arrive the young men set to work to cut trees
for the corral, and when the sun had set the building of the dark circle
of branches began. While the young men were making the circle the old
men were making speeches to the multitude, for the old men always love
to talk when the young men are hard at work. It was the greatest corral
that has ever been built in the Navajo country. It was as broad as from
Cañon Bonito to “the Haystacks” (a distance of about six miles), yet the
visiting tribes were so numerous that they filled the circle full. In
the mean time the sounds of singing and of the drum were heard all
around, for many different parties of dancers, who were to take part in
the night’s entertainment, were rehearsing.
69. There was some delay after the inclosure was finished before the
first dancers made their appearance. A man entered the corral and made a
speech begging the atsáleï, or first dancers, to hasten, as there were
so many parties from a distance who wished to perform during the night.
Soon after he had spoken, the two atsáleï who led in the dance of the
great plumed arrow entered, and after them came six more, and performed
this healing dance over Dsilyi‘ Neyáni as it is performed to this day.
(See paragraph 131.) When this was concluded various groups from among
the strangers entered, one after another, and conducted their different
alìlis, or shows, which the Navajo then learned and have since practiced
when they sing their songs in the dark circle of branches.
70. When the dance began in the evening there was one of the invited
tribes which, it was noticed, had not arrived. This was the Beqai, or
Jicarilla. The Navajo asked the Ute where the missing ones were, and the
Ute answered that they had passed the Jicarilla on the way; that the
latter were coming, but had stopped to play a game of roulette, or
náⁿjoj, and were thus delayed. Shortly before dawn the Jicarilla came
and entered the corral to exhibit their alìli or show. It was a dance of
the náⁿjoj, for the wands and implements of the dance were the sticks
and wheels used in playing that game.
71. During the night a chief of the Navajo, while walking through the
crowd, observed the grandmother of Tlà¢esçìni sitting on the ground. He
approached her and said: “Your grandson and his friend have done a great
deed for us; they have made a long journey. Many doubted whether they
had really made it until we saw the multitude gathering in our camp from
the north and from the south in obedience to their summons. Now we know
that they have spoken the truth. Tell me, I beg you, how they did this
wonderful thing.” She answered: “They are ¢igini. My grandson for many
years has risen early every morning and run all around Tsòtsil (Mount
Taylor, or San Mateo) over and over again before sunrise. This is why
the people have never seen him abroad during the day, but have seen him
asleep in his hogán. Around the base of Tsòtsil are many tse‘ná‘djihi
(heaps of sacrificial stones). These were all made by my grandson; he
drops a stone on one of these piles every time he goes round the
mountain.”
72. When day began to dawn there were yet several parties who came
prepared to give exhibitions, but had not had a chance; still, at the
approach of day the ceremonies had to cease. At this time, before the
visitors began to leave the corral, the Navajo chief who had spoken with
the grandmother arose and addressed the assembly. He told them all he
knew about the swift couriers and all the grandmother had told him. He
remarked that there were yet many who could not believe that the young
men had made the journey; so, to satisfy all, he proposed that within
twelve days they should have a race between the two fleet akáninili
around the base of Tsòtsil, if all would agree to reassemble to witness
it, and he begged them to invite their neighbors of the Pueblo and other
tribes to come with them. Then other chiefs arose to speak. In the end
the proposition of the Navajo chief was agreed to. All promised to
return within eleven days and decided that the race should take place on
the morning following. Then they dispersed to their homes.
73. On the afternoon of the eleventh day, when they had reassembled
according to their promises, the Navajo chief arose and addressed them.
He invited the chiefs of the other tribes to come forward and complete
the arrangements for the race. So the headmen all came together at the
place where the Navajo was speaking, and, after some consultation, they
agreed that the race should be around the peak of Tsòtsil, but not
around the entire range of mountains. The Navajo separated themselves
into one party and the alien tribes into another, the two parties
standing at a little distance from one another. The aliens were given
the first choice, and they chose Indsiskàï; therefore Tlà¢esçìni fell to
the Navajo. Then the betting began. The stakes consisted of strings of
coral, turquoise, and shell beads, of vessels of shells as large as the
earthen basins of the Zuñi, of beautifully tanned buckskins, of dresses
embroidered with colored porcupine quills, and of suits of armor made of
several layers of buckskin. The warriors in those days wore such armor,
but they wear it no longer. The beads and shells were laid in one pile;
the buckskins, the embroidered dresses, and the armor in another; and
the piles were of vast size.
74. The homes of these young men were at Kaç-sakà¢tsé‘çqa (Lone Juniper
Standing Between Cliffs), now Cobero Cañon. There is seen to day a rock
shaped like a Navajo hogán. It stands near the wagon road and not far
from the town of the Mexicans (Cobero). This rock was once the hut where
Tlà¢esçìni dwelt. Not far from it is another rock of similar appearance,
which once was the home of Indsiskàï. For this reason the runners were
started at the Lone Juniper. They ran towards the west and five of the
fleetest runners among the assembled Indians set out at the same time to
see how long they could keep up with them. By the time these five men
had reached the spur of the mountain opposite Çòsaço (Hot Spring, Ojo de
los Gallinos, San Rafael), the two champions were out of sight. Then the
five turned back; but before they could return to the Lone Juniper the
runners had got in and the race was decided. Tlà¢esçìni had won by about
twice the length of his own body, and all the wagered wealth of the
other nations passed into the hands of the Navajo.
75. When all was done the strangers were dissatisfied; they mourned over
their losses and talked about the whole affair among themselves for a
long time. Finally they decided to give the Navajo another challenge if
the latter would agree to a longer racecourse, which should include all
the foothills of the San Mateo range. The Navajo accepted the challenge
and agreed to have the race at the end of another twelve days. Early on
the eleventh day the strangers began to assemble from all quarters; they
continued to arrive all day, and when night fell they were all in. Then
the headmen addressed them, explaining all the conditions of the
challenge and describing carefully the racecourse decided on. The
betting did not run as high this time as before. The Navajo bet only
about one-half of what they won on the former race. Again they started
the two runners, and in such time as you could just mark that the sun
had moved, they were back at the goal; but this time Indsiskàï, the
champion of the alien races, won by about the same distance as he had
lost on the previous occasion.
76. Then the strangers were satisfied and said, “We will try no more.
Many of our goods are still with the Navajo; but we have done well to
rescue what we have.” One of the wise men among them said, “Yes, you
have done well, for had you lost the second race you would have lost
with it the rain and the sunshine and all that makes life glad.” It is
because the Navajo won so much wealth on this occasion that they have
been richer than the neighboring races ever since.
77. The ceremony cured Dsilyi‘ Neyáni of all his strange feelings and
notions. The lodge of his people no longer smelled unpleasant to him.
But often he would say, “I know I cannot be with you always, for the
yays visit me nightly in my sleep. In my dreams I am once more among
them, and they beg me to return to them.”
78. From Lejpáhi¢o the family moved to Dsildjoltcín¢i (Mountain of
Hatred). Thence they went to Tsinbiláhi (Woods on One Side), and from
there to Tse‘yuçáhia‘ (Standing Rock Above). In this place they encamped
but one night, and next day they moved to [¢]epè-aça¢ (Sheep
Promontory), and went on to [¢]epè-¢asi¢i (One Sheep Lying Down). Here
again they camped for the night. Next day they traveled by Tse‘atcàlçali
(Rock Cracked in Two) to Tcoyàjnaskíç (Hill Surrounded With Young Spruce
Trees), to Nigàqokaï (White Ground), and to Tse‘yistci¢ (Dipping Rocks,
i.e., dipping strata), where they stopped to rest for the night. On the
following day they journeyed to Çosakázi (Cold Water), in which place
they encamped again.
79. When the morning came, Dsilyi‘ Neyáni said to his younger brother,
“Let us go out and try to shoot some deer, so that we may make beça‘
(deer masks), such as we wore in [¢]epéntsa, where we killed so many
deer.” The brothers departed on the hunt and came to a place called
Dsil-líjin (Black Mountains), and they sat down on the side of the
mountains looking towards Tsòtsil. As they sat there Dsilyi‘ Neyáni
said, “Younger brother, behold the ¢igìni!” (holy ones); but the younger
brother could see no one. Then he spoke again, “Farewell, younger
brother! From the holy places the gods come for me. You will never see
me again; but when the showers pass and the thunder peals, ‘There,’ you
will say, ‘is the voice of my elder brother,’ and when the harvest
comes, of the beautiful birds and grasshoppers you will say ‘There is
the ordering of my elder brother.’”
80. As he said these words he vanished. The younger brother looked all
around, and seeing no one he started for his home. When he returned to
his people he told them of the departure of Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, and they
mourned as for one dead.
THE CEREMONIES OF DSILYÍDJE QAÇÀL.
81. It has been my lot to see portions of these ceremonies at various
times. The most complete view I had of them was during a visit made to a
place called Niqotlizi (Hard Earth), some twenty miles northwest from
Fort Wingate, New Mexico, and just within the southern boundary of the
Navajo Reservation. This was the only occasion when I obtained full
access to the medicine lodge on the later days of the ceremonies and had
an opportunity of observing the wonderful pictures on sand which are
illustrated in color in the accompanying plates.
82. On October 21, 1881, when I arrived at this place, the patient for
whose benefit the rites were celebrated and a few of her immediate
relations were the only people encamped here. They occupied a single
temporary shelter of brushwood, within a few paces of which I had a rude
shelter erected for my own accommodation. The patient was a middleaged
woman, who apparently suffered from no ailment whatever; she was stout,
ruddy, cheerful, and did her full share of the household work every day;
yet she was about to give away for these ceremonies sheep, horses, and
other goods to the value of perhaps two hundred dollars. No ceremonies
whatever were in progress when I came. Everything, so the Indians said,
was waiting for the qaçàli. (Paragraph 2.) Some men were engaged in
building a corral for the sheep that were to be slaughtered for the
guests, and some old women were grinding corn to feast the men who were
to work in the medicine lodge, which had been completed six days before.
83. This lodge was a simple conical structure of large, partly hewed
piñon logs, set on end and inclined at an angle of about forty-five
degrees, so as to join one another on top, where they formed the apex of
the lodge. The circle of logs was incomplete in the east, where the
openings for the door and the smoke hole were. A passage, or entry,
about five feet high and three feet wide, led from the body of the lodge
to the outer doorway, where some blankets hung as portières. The frame
of logs was covered with sods and loose earth to keep out wind and rain.
Internally, the lodge was eight feet in height under the apex of the
cone and on an average twenty-five feet in diameter at the base. The
diameter was increased at the east (to allow for the entry) and at the
north. The irregularity in the circumference in the north was at first
conjectured to be a mere accident; but in the ceremonies of the first
night its use became apparent as affording a hiding place for the man
dressed in evergreens. (Paragraph 96.)
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. X
MEDICINE LODGE, VIEWED FROM THE SOUTH.]
84. THE FIRST FOUR DAYS’ ceremonies in this case had been performed
during the previous year. Such a division of the work is sometimes made,
if more convenient for the patient and his friends, but usually all is
done in nine consecutive days. These first days have less of interest
than the others. Early each morning, before eating, all who desire, men
and women, enter the medicine lodge, where, in a stifling atmosphere,
seated around a fire of dry wood of four different kinds--cedar, big
willow, little willow, and spruce--they take the hot emetic infusion of
fifteen different kinds of plants mixed together. A little sand is
placed in front of each to receive the ejected material. After the
emetic has acted the fire is removed, deposited some paces to the north
of the lodge, and allowed to die out. Each devotee’s pile of sand is
then removed (beginning with that of the man who sat in the east and
going round the circle) and deposited, one after another, in a line
north of the sacred fire. Each succeeding day’s deposits are placed
farther and farther north in a continuous line. Next all return to the
lodge, which has been allowed to cool; the shaman spits on each some
medicine which has been mixed with hoar-frost and is supposed to cool.
When all have left the lodge, a new fire of ordinary wood is kindled,
and the kethàwns, or sacrificial sticks, appropriate to the day are
made.
85. FIFTH DAY. The chanter did not arrive until the afternoon of October
23. His ceremonies in the medicine lodge began on the morning of the
24th. The forenoon was devoted to the preparation and sacrifice of
certain kethàwns (keçàn)--the sacrificial sticks, to the origin of which
so much of the foregoing myth is devoted--and of sacrificial cigarettes.
About eight o’clock the sick woman entered the medicine lodge, followed
by the chanter. While she sat on the ground, with her limbs extended, he
applied some powdered substance from his medicine bag to the soles of
her feet, to her knees, breasts, shoulders, cheeks, and head, in the
order named, and then threw some of it towards the heavens through the
smoke hole. Before applying it to the head he placed some of it in her
mouth to be swallowed. Then, kneeling on a sheep skin, with her face to
the east, and holding the bag of medicine in her hand, she recited a
prayer, bit by bit, after the chanter. The prayer being finished, she
arose, put some of the medicine into her mouth, some on her head, and
took her seat in the south, while the shaman went on with the
preparation of the sacrifices.
86. An assistant daubed a nice straight branch of cherry with some
moistened herbaceous powder, after which he divided the branch into four
pieces with a flint knife. Two of the pieces were each about two inches
long and two each about four inches long. In each of the shorter ones he
made one slight gash and in each of the longer ones two gashes. The
sticks were then painted, a shred of yucca leaf being used for the
brush, with rings of black, red, and white, disposed in a different
order on each stick. The two cigarettes were made by filling sections of
some hollow stem with a mixture of some pulverized plants. Such
cigarettes are intended, as the prayers indicate, to be smoked by the
gods. (Paragraph 88.)
87. While the assistants were painting the sticks and making the
cigarettes the old chanter placed on a sheep skin, spread on the floor
woolly side down, other things pertaining to the sacrifice: five bundles
of assorted feathers, five small pieces of cotton sheeting to wrap the
sacrifices in, and two round flat stones, each about four inches in
diameter. The upper surfaces of these he painted, one blue and one
black, and he bordered each with a stripe of red. When the kethàwns and
cigarettes were ready, the qaçàli distributed them along with the
bunches of plumes, on the five pieces of cotton cloth, which were then
rolled up around their contents, making five bundles of sacrifices. On
the completion of this work there was prayer, song, and rattling; the
medicinal powder was applied to the body of the patient as before
(paragraph 85); two of the little sacrificial bundles were placed in her
right hand, and while she held them she again repeated a prayer,
following again phrase by phrase, or sentence by sentence, the words of
the priest. The latter, when the prayer was ended, took the sacrifices
from her hand and pressed them to different parts of her body in the
order previously observed, beginning with the soles of the feet and
going upwards to the head, but on this occasion touching also the back,
and touching it last. Each time after pressing the sacrifices to her
body he held them up to the smoke hole and blew on them in that
direction a quick puff, as if blowing away some evil influence which the
sacrifices were supposed to draw from her body. Then the three remaining
bundles were put in her hands and the rites observed with the former
bundles were repeated in every respect, including the prayer, which was
followed by singing and rattling. When the song had ceased some of the
assistants took the bundles of sacrifices out of the lodge, no doubt to
bury them according to the method proper for those particular kethàwns.
The round painted stones were also carried out.
88. The prayers which the woman repeated varied but little. They all
sounded nearly alike. The night the shaman arrived he rehearsed some of
these prayers with the woman, at her own hogán, to make her familiar
with them before she repeated them, in the medicine lodge. The prayer
addressed to Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, when she held in her hand the offering
sacred to him, was as follows:
Reared Within the Mountains!
Lord of the Mountains!
Young Man!
Chieftain!
I have made your sacrifice.
I have prepared a smoke for you.
My feet restore thou for me.
My legs restore thou for me.
My body restore thou for me.
My mind restore thou for me.
My voice restore thou for me.
Restore all for me in beauty.
Make beautiful all that is before me.
Make beautiful all that is behind me.
Make beautiful my words.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty.
It is done in beauty. (Paragraphs 261-4.)
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XI
MEDICINE LODGE, VIEWED FROM THE EAST.]
89. The next part of the ceremonies (or, shall I say, the treatment?)
was a fumigation. The medicine man took from the fire a large glowing
coal, placed it beside the woman, and scattered on it some powdered
substance which instantly gave forth a dense smoke and a strong
fragrance that filled the lodge. The woman held her face over the coal
and inhaled the fumes with deep inspirations. When the smoke no longer
rose the coal was quenched with water and carried out of the lodge by
the chief, Manuelito, probably to be disposed of in some established
manner. Then the woman left the lodge and singing and rattling were
resumed.
90. While the rites just described were in progress some assistants were
busy with other matters. One made, from the spotted skin of a fawn, two
bags in which the akáninilis or couriers were to carry their meal on the
morrow’s journey. Another brought in and hung over the doorway a bundle
of dry, withered plants which he had just gathered. Glancing up at them
I recognized the _Gutierrezia_ and the _Bouteloua_. The bundle may have
contained the other plants mentioned in the myth (paragraph 44). They
were hung up there till the next day, to be then used in a manner which
will be described (paragraph 101).
91. The sheepskin on which the sacrifices had been placed was taken away
and a blanket was spread on the ground to receive some more sacred
articles from the bag of the chanter. These were five long notched
wands, some tail feathers of the wild turkey, some small downy feathers
of the eagle, and some native mineral pigments--yellow ocher,
a ferruginous black, and a native blue. With the pigments the assistants
painted the notched wands; with the plumes the chanter trimmed them.
(See Fig. 51 and Plate XI.) Then they were called çobolçà, a word of
obscure etymology, or in¢ia‘, which signifies sticking up or standing
erect. They are called in this paper “plumed wands.”
92. While some were making the çobolçà others busied themselves
grinding, between stones, large quantities of pigments, coarser than
those referred to above, to be used in making the sand pictures or dry
paintings of the ceremony. They made five colors: black, of charcoal;
white, of white sandstone; red, of red sandstone; yellow, of yellow
sandstone; and “blue,” of the black and white, mixed in proper
proportions; of course this was a gray, but it was their only cheap
substitute for the cerulean tint, and, combined with the other colors on
the sanded floor, in the dim light of the lodge, it could not easily be
distinguished from a true blue. It may be remarked in passing that the
Navajo apply to many things which are gray the term they use for blue
(çolíj); thus the gray fox is called màï-çolíj (blue coyote) and a gray
sheep is called a blue sheep. Yet that they make a distinction between
these colors is, I think, fairly evident from the fact that in painting
small articles, such as kethàwns and masks, they use the more costly
articles of turquoise, malachite, and indigo. These coarse pigments for
the dry paintings were put for convenience on curved pieces of piñon
bark. From time to time, during this and the following days, as the
heaps of colored powder diminished under the hands of the artists, more
stones and charcoal were pulverized to replenish them.
93. About noon they cleared off that portion of the floor of the lodge
which lay west of the fire, and brought, in blankets, a quantity of dry
sand, which they spread out over the cleared portion of the floor in a
layer of the nearly constant depth of three inches. They smoothed the
surface with the broad oaken battens used in weaving. Now for a time all
operations were suspended in the lodge while the chanter went out to
plant the çobolçà, or plumed wands, in front of the medicine lodge, and
to lay beside them the collars of beaver skins and the symbols for wings
which the couriers were to wear next day. (Fig. 51.) These articles, it
was said, were placed outside as a sign to the gods that the holy
pictures were being drawn; but it is not improbable that they were
intended also as a sign to uninitiated mortals. However that may be,
they were taken in as soon as the picture was finished. The great
painting was begun about 1 o’clock p.m., was finished about 3, and was
allowed to remain until the ceremonies at night were concluded. It will
be described later. (Paragraphs 160 et seq.)
[Illustration: FIG. 51. The çobolçà, or plumed wands, as seen from
the door of the medicine lodge.]
94. When the picture was completed food was brought in, and there was a
good deal of eating and sleeping and smoking done. Being informed that
nothing more would be done until after nightfall, I went to my own
shelter, to elaborate some of my more hasty sketches while matters were
still fresh in my mind. At 7 o’clock a messenger came to tell me that
ceremonies were about to be resumed. During my absence the principal
character in the night’s performance--a man arrayed in evergreens--had
been dressed.
95. I found, on returning to the lodge, a number of spectators seated
around close to the edge of the apartment. The fire burned in the
center. The sick woman, with some companions, sat in the south. The
qaçàli, with a few assistants who joined him in singing and shaking
rattles, was seated at the north, at the place where the circumference
of the lodge was enlarged. (Paragraph 83.) There was a space about two
feet wide and six feet long between them and the wall, or roof if you
choose so to call it, of the lodge. I was assigned a place in the west.
The sick woman was directed to move from the position she occupied in
the south, and sit, with her face to the east, at the junction of the
two white serpents that cross one another on the picture. (Plate XV.)
96. When she was seated the qaçàli began a song, accompanied by the
usual rattling and drumming. At a certain part of the song the chanter
was seen to make a slight signal with his drumstick, a rapid stroke to
the rear, when instantly a mass of animate evergreens--a moving tree, it
seemed--sprang out from the space behind the singers and rushed towards
the patient. A terrifying yell from the spectators greeted the
apparition, when the man in green, acting as if frightened by the noise,
retreated as quickly as he came, and in a moment nothing could be seen
in the space behind the singers but the shifting shadows cast by the
fire. He was so thoroughly covered with spruce twigs that nothing of his
form save his toes could be distinguished when he rushed out in the full
glare of the fire. This scene was repeated three times, at due
intervals.
97. Some time after the third repetition, the chanter arose, without
interrupting his song, and proceeded to erase the picture with his
rattle. He began with the mountain in the west (paragraph 162), which he
completely leveled; next in order he erased the track of the bear; next,
the hole in the center; and then, one by one, the various other figures,
ending with the serpents on the outside. In erasing the serpents, he
began with the figures in the east and followed the apparent course of
the sun, ending with the figures in the north. When the picture was
completely obliterated, the sand on which it had been drawn was
collected, put in a blanket, and carried out of doors, to be thrown
away.
98. Then the sick woman was lifted by two other women and laid on her
side where the picture had been, with her face to the east. While she
lay there, the medicine man, amid much singing, walked around her,
inscribed on the earth at her feet a straight line with his finger and
erased it with his foot, inscribed at her head a cross and rubbed it out
in the same manner, traced radiating lines in all directions from her
body and obliterated them, gave her a light massage, whistled over her
from head to foot and all around her, and whistled towards the smoke
hole, as if whistling something away. These acts were performed in the
order in which they are recorded. His last operation on her was a severe
massage, in which he kneaded every part of her body forcibly and pulled
her joints hard, whereat she groaned and made demonstrations of
suffering. This concluded, she rose. A blanket was spread on the ground
on the north of the fire, near where the man in evergreens was
concealed. At the last appearance of the man in evergreens the woman
fell back apparently paralyzed and suffering from difficulty of
breathing, all of which was probably feigned, but was supposed to be a
sign that the right remedy or ceremony for her ailment had been found
and that none other need be tried. The medicine man now proceeded to
restore her to consciousness by drawing zigzag lines from her body east
and west and straight lines north and south, like their symbols for the
chain and sheet lightnings, by stepping over her in different
directions, and by rattling. When she had apparently recovered, he
pressed the plumed wands and the symbols for wings to different parts of
her body, in the order and with the ceremonies described when referring
to previous application made to her body.
99. There were no more ceremonies that night. I remained in the medicine
lodge until it was quite late. The men occupied their time in singing,
rattling, gambling, and smoking. After a while some grew weary and lay
down to sleep. Being repeatedly assured that nothing more would happen
until the whistle sounded in the morning, I left the lodge to roll
myself in my blankets. Yet frequently during the night, fearing I might
have been deceived, I stealthily arose and visited the medicine lodge,
only to find all slumbering soundly.
100. SIXTH DAY. At five in the morning (Saturday, October 25) the
whistle sounded and I hastened to the medicine lodge. There was much to
be done; the couriers were to be dressed and sent on their way, and a
large picture was to be painted; so the work had to begin early.
[Illustration: FIG. 52. Akáninili ready for the journey.]
101. The first thing done was to burn to charcoal the bundle of plants
which had been gathered on the previous morning and hung over the door
of the lodge inside. (Paragraph 90.) The charcoal was used in painting
the limbs of the akáninilis or couriers. A basin of water containing
soap root or amolë (the root of _Yucca baccata_, and other species of
yucca) was brought in, and after the medicine man had dabbed them with a
little of the suds the akáninilis-elect washed themselves with it from
head to foot, cleaning their hair well. When the bath was done, they
were dabbed by the qaçàli with some other mixture contained in a
waterproof wicker basin and were made to inhale the fragrant fumes of
some vegetable powder scattered on a live coal, which, as usual, was
“put out,” in a double sense, when the fumigation was over. Then the
young men were dressed and adorned to look like Dsilyi‘ Neyáni after his
toilet in the house of the butterflies. (Paragraph 44.) Their legs and
forearms were painted black, to represent the storm cloud. The outer
aspects of these members were decorated with white zigzag streaks, to
indicate the white lightning. Their faces were painted partly white and
small white spots were scattered over their bodies. Downy eagle feathers
were fastened to their hair; necklaces of shell and coral were hung
around their necks, and over these were laid collars of beaver skin,
with whistles attached, which had lain in front of the lodge the day
before, near the plumed wands. (Paragraph 93, Fig. 51.) Small objects to
represent wings were tied to their arms. Each was given one of the fawn
skin bags (paragraph 90) with corn meal in it. In the hand of the
akáninili who was to go to the south was placed one of the çobolçà, or
plumed wands, whose stem was painted black, the color of the north, as a
sign to all he might meet that he was a duly authorized messenger from a
medicine lodge in the north. In the hand of the other akáninili was
placed a blue shafted wand, to show that he came from the south. Thus
equipped they were all ready for the journey. (Fig. 52.)
102. The chanter gave them his messages, telling them where to go, what
places they were to visit, what other chanters they were to see, what
dancers they were to invite, and what gifts they were authorized to
offer to the visiting performers for their trouble. Having given these
special instructions, he closed with the general instructions, which are
always given to the akáninili, as follows:
These [pointing to the eagle feathers on the head] will make for you a
means of rising as you progress.
These [pointing to the wing symbols on the arm] will bear you onward.
This [pointing to the collar of beaver skin] will be a means of
recognition for you. For this reason it hangs around your neck.
Sprinkle meal across a little valley, across a big arroyo.
Across the roots of a tree sprinkle meal and then you may step over.
Sprinkle meal across a flat rock.
Then the plumed wand. For this purpose you carry it, that they will
recognize you as coming from a holy place.
103. The akáninili on his journey scatters meal before him as directed
in these charges. He also scatters it on the medicine men whom he
visits, and for this reason he is called akáninili, which signifies meal
sprinkler.
104. When the last word of the instructions was uttered, the couriers
departed, one to the north and one to the south. It was not later than
7 o’clock when they left. As soon as they were gone, the work of
painting the picture appropriate to the day was begun. It was much more
elaborate than the painting of the previous day. Although a dozen men
worked on it, it was not finished until two o’clock. About the time it
was done, the akáninili from the south returned. He was carefully
divested of all his ornaments. The white paint was scraped carefully
from his body and preserved in the medicine bags of those who scraped it
off. Then he was led out of the lodge.
105. When the picture was finished, the shaman, having applied pollen in
three places to each god, stuck around it in the ground, at regular
intervals, the three plumed wands which had stood before the door of the
lodge all day and the wand which the akáninili from the south had just
brought back with him. This wand he placed at the south of the picture,
and laid beside it the collar, wings, and plumes which the akáninili had
worn. The fifth, or north, wand was still absent with the courier who
went to the north.
106. All was ready now for the treatment of the sick woman. She was sent
for, and a crier went to the door of the lodge to announce that song and
ceremony were to begin. Accompanied by another woman, she entered,
carrying a basket with corn meal in it. This she sprinkled lightly over
the picture and then handed it to some of the assistants, who finished
the work she had begun by strewing the meal plentifully on the figures.
She sat on the form of the god in the east, facing the door, with her
feet extended, and her companion sat on the figure of the cornstalk in
the southeast. (Plate XVI.) In the mean time the medicine man had made a
cold infusion in an earthen bowl and placed it on the hands of the
rainbow figure (paragraph 169), laying over it a brush or sprinkler made
of feathers, with a handle of colored yarn. When the women were seated,
the chanter dipped his brush in the solution; sprinkled the picture
plentifully; touched each divine figure with the moistened brush in
three places-brow, mouth, and chest; administered the infusion to the
women, in two alternate draughts to each; drained the bowl himself; and
handed it to the bystanders, that they might finish the dregs and let
none of the precious stuff go to waste. Next came the fumigation. The
woman whom we have designated as the companion rose from her seat on the
picture and sat on the ground beside the door. The principal patient
retained her seat on the eastern god. Near each a live coal was laid on
the ground. On the coal a strong scented but rather fragrant mixture was
thrown, and as the fumes arose the women waved them towards their faces
and breathed them in as before. The coal was extinguished and carefully
removed, as on previous occasions. The application of the sacred dust to
the body of the patient followed. The shaman moistened his hands with
saliva and pressed them to the feet of all the gods. Some of the powder,
of course, stuck to his palms. This he applied to the feet of the
patient. Thus he took dust from the knees, abdomens, chests, shoulders,
and heads of the figures and applied it to corresponding parts of the
patient’s form, making a strong massage with each application.
107. When the patient had departed many of the spectators advanced to
the picture and gathered the corn pollen (paragraphs 105 and 112), now
rendered doubly sacred, and put it in their medicine bags. Some took
portions of the remaining dust from the figures, after the manner of the
shaman, and applied it to ailing portions of their persons. If the
devotee had disease in his legs, he took dust from the legs of the
figures; if in his head, the dust was taken from the heads of the
figures, and so on.
108. By the time they were all done the picture was badly marred; yet
its general form and some of the details were quite distinguishable.
Then it became the province of the chanter to completely obliterate it.
He began with the white god in the east and took in turn the figures in
the southeast (corn), south, southwest, west, center, northwest, north,
and northeast. Next, the figure of the rainbow was erased from foot to
head, and, on his way, the chanter knocked down, with rather vicious
blows, the plumed wands which stood up around the picture. When he came
to the round figure in the center he dug up a cup which had been buried
there. He erased the picture with a long slender wand and sang in the
meantime, to the accompaniment of the rattling of his assistants,
a plaintive chant in a minor key, which was perhaps the most melodious
Indian song I ever heard. All was over at half past 2 in the afternoon.
109. Later in the day it was announced that the other akáninili was
approaching from the north. He could then be observed about a mile away
in an open plain. As he advanced the sound of his whistle was heard. At
exactly half past 4 he entered the medicine lodge, where the chanter
motioned him to a seat in the south. Singing and rattling were at once
begun and the akáninili was divested of his trappings in the following
order: head plumes, beaver collar, necklace, right wing, left wing,
belt, sash, moccasins. The white paint was removed and preserved as on
the former occasion. He was led out of the lodge, where he was well
washed from head to foot in a hot decoction of the detergent amolë and
dried with corn meal. Two large blood blisters were to be seen on the
inner aspects of his thighs, brought on by the friction of his
breechcloth in running. He said that he had run constantly when not in
sight from our camp, had traveled a long way since morning, and was very
tired. It seems to be the custom with the akáninilis to walk slowly when
near camp and to run when out of sight, probably to follow the mythic
examples of Tlà¢esçìni and Indsiskàï. (Paragraph 63.)
110. With the toilet of the akáninili the ceremonies of the day ended.
He returned to the lodge to relate his adventures and get some food.
During the day visitors arrived occasionally from distant camps. In the
afternoon there were several young men present, who busied themselves in
grubbing and clearing the ground where the corral was to be built and
the great dance of the last night was to be held. I remained in the
lodge until it was quite late, and I frequently rose during the night to
see if anything was going on; but the night passed without event, like
the previous one.
111. SEVENTH DAY. The painting of the picture and the treatment of the
sick woman were the only works performed on this day (Sunday,
October 26). The whistle sounded from the lodge at 6 a.m., but already
the plumed wands and the beaver collars had been placed before the door
of the medicine lodge and the sand for the groundwork of the picture had
been brought in. As the picture (Plate XVII) was to be larger than those
which preceded it, the fire was moved quite near to the door; the heated
earth which lay under the fire in its former position was dug up and
replaced with cold earth, probably for the comfort of the artists.
112. The work of the painters was begun soon after 6 a.m. and was not
completed until about 2 p.m. About a dozen men were engaged on it, and
it occupied them, as we have seen, about eight hours. As usual, the
qaçàli did very little of the manual labor; but he constantly watched
the work and frequently criticised and corrected it. When the painting
was done, it became his duty to apply the sacred corn pollen to the
brow, mouth, and chest of each of the gods and to set up the bounding
çobolçà or plumed wands. After this he placed a bowl of water on the
left hand of the white god--the form second from the north--threw into
it some powdered substance to make a cold decoction, and laid the
sprinkler on top of it. (Paragraph 106.)
113. The whistle was blown. The herald announced that all was ready. The
sick woman and her companion entered, and one after the other cast meal
upon the floor. The former took off her moccasins and sat on the ground
near the door while a song was sung. Then she sat on the form of the
white god, her companion sat on the form of the blue god, and the
singing and rattling were resumed. Without interrupting his song the
chanter sprinkled the picture with the infusion, applied the moistened
sprinkler to the breast, head, and brow of each of the gods in the
following order: white, blue, yellow, black, and sat down to finish his
chant. He administered the decoctions to his patient in two draughts, to
her companion in two draughts, to himself (honest physician!) in the
same manner, and gave as before (paragraph 106) the dregs to the
bystanders. He applied the dust from different parts of the divine
figures to the sick woman, in much the same manner as on the previous
day, and while doing this he obliterated the pictures of the little
animals over the head of the white god. The fumigation of both women was
repeated with exactly the same rites as on the second day, and the fumes
had precisely the same odor on this occasion as on that. When the coals
were extinguished and taken out, the chanter said to the women, “kaç”
(now), whereat they arose and left the lodge.
114. As soon as they were gone the work of obliteration began. The
figures of the gods were rubbed out in the usual order (white, blue,
yellow, black, rainbow), the erasure in each case proceeding from foot
to head. The plumed wands fell as before, simultaneously with the
destruction of the rainbow. The sand was carried out at half past
2 o’clock and no further rites were performed during the day.
115. EIGHTH DAY. The picture painted on Monday (October 27) was of a
simple character, and hence did not occupy much time. The work was begun
at 7 a.m. and was finished at 10 a.m. Of the four shorter or interior
arrows (Plate XVIII), that which stands second from the north was
regarded as the arrow of the east and was begun first. On this arrow the
sick woman was placed, sitting with her face to the east, when she came
to be treated and fumigated. The bowl of infusion was laid on the point
of the arrow immediately to her left, regarded as the arrow of the
north. The medicine man put the pollen on the base, on the red cross
lines near the center, and on the white tips. All the ceremonies which
took place between the completion and the obliteration of the picture
(the planting of the five plumed wands, the sprinkling of the picture
with meal, the sprinkling and administration of the infusion, the
application of the colored dust to the person of the patient, the
fumigation of the two women, the whistling, the singing, and rattling)
were essentially the same as those observed on the previous day. In
taking the dust from the picture, however, the shaman applied his hands
only to the bases of the arrows. The ceremony of obliteration was also a
repetition of the rites of the previous day.
[Illustration: FIG. 53. The great wood pile.]
116. The building of the great stack of wood (Fig. 53) which was to
furnish the fire in the center of the corral on the last night went on
simultaneously with the painting of the picture. Both tasks were begun
and ended about the same time. The wood in the big pile was dead, long
seasoned juniper and cedar, fuel of the most inflammable character. The
pile was about twelve feet high and sixty paces in circumference. Large
quantities of this dry wood were also brought and placed outside the
space allotted to the corral, to replenish the fires when needed.
117. In the afternoon there were no ceremonies in the medicine lodge.
The qaçàli and his assistants took a half holiday, and not without
deserving it, for they had wrought well for three days and they had a
long day’s work and a long night’s work still before them. A large
number of people had by this time assembled, and from time to time more
arrived. Throughout the sparse grove which surrounded us, little
temporary corrals and huts of boughs were going up in every direction.
In more secret spots in the rugged walls of a cañon, about half a mile
from the medicine lodge, other shelters were erected, where visiting
performers were to prepare themselves on the last night. Many young men
were busy in the afternoon cutting down the trees and lopping off the
branches which were to form the great corral (the ilnásjin, the dark
circle of branches) on the next day. Some of the visiting women were
busy grinding meal and attending to different household duties; others
played cards or engaged in the more aboriginal pastime of áz¢ilçil,
a game played with three sticks and forty stones, the latter for
counters.
118. The friends of the sick woman prepared the alkàn, a great corn cake
baked in the earth, the manufacture of which gave evidence of the
antiquity of the process. The batter was mixed in one large hole in the
ground lined with fresh sheepskin. It was baked in another hole in which
a fire had been burning for many hours, until the surrounding earth was
well heated. The fire was removed; the hole lined with corn husks; the
batter ladled in and covered with more cornhusks; hot earth and hot
coals were spread overall. The cake was not dug up until the following
day, and was designed chiefly for the special entertainment of those who
were at work in the medicine lodge.
119. NINTH DAY (UNTIL SUNSET). On Tuesday (October 28) the work in the
lodge consisted in preparing certain properties to be used in the
ceremonies of the night. These were the wands to be used in the first
dance, the kátso-yisçàn or great plumed arrows, and the trees which the
dancers pretended to swallow.
120. The wand of the nahikàï was made by paring down a straight slender
stick of aromatic sumac, about three feet long, to the general thickness
of less than half an inch, but leaving a head or button at one end.
A ring was fashioned from a transverse slice of some hollow or pithy
plant, so that it would slide freely up and down the slender wand, but
would nob pass over the head. Eagle down was secured to the wooden head
and also to the ring. In the dance (paragraph 129) the eagle down on the
stick is burned off in the fire while the ring is held in the palm of
the hand. When the time comes for the wand to grow white again, as the
name nahikàï expresses it, the ring is allowed to leave the palm and
slide to the other end of the stick.
121. The great plumed arrows were deceptions somewhat similar in
character to the wands. One-half of the arrow was made of a slender hard
twig of cliff rose; the other half was formed of some pithy suffruticose
herb which I could not determine satisfactorily, as I saw only the cut
sections and was not permitted to handle these. The pith was removed so
as to allow the wooden part to move into the herby part with a
telescopic mechanism. The herbaceous portion was so covered with
feathers that nothing could be seen of its surface. A large stone
arrowhead was attached to the wooden shaft. When the actor pretended to
swallow this he merely held the stone point firmly between his teeth and
forced the upper or plumed shaft down on the lower or wooden shaft. It
was an excellent deception, and presented to the ordinary observer all
the appearance of genuine arrow swallowing.
122. The piñon saplings, which the dancers also pretended to swallow,
had no deceptive arrangement. They were slender little trees trimmed at
the butt into a broad, thin, wedge shaped point, which was carefully
smoothed by rubbing it with sandstone, so that no offensive splinters
should present themselves to the lips of the dancers. The smooth end was
painted red, probably to make the spectators, at night, by the uncertain
firelight, suppose that the dissemblers had torn their throats in their
great efforts. Sometimes the saplings have all their branches removed,
and are then trimmed with cross pieces and circles of evergreen sprays.
In most cases, however, I have seen the sapling used in its natural
condition.
123. As each set of implements was completed there was a ceremony with
singing and rattling, the men who were to use them at night partook of
powdered medicines on their extended tongues, from the hands of the
chanter, and then practiced themselves in the use of the implements.
Although they well knew the deceptive nature of these articles and fully
understood the frauds they were preparing to perpetrate on the public,
these young men seemed to view the whole work with high reverence and
treat it with the greatest seriousness. For instance, when, in the
secrecy of the lodge, they went through the motions of swallowing the
trees they showed indubitable signs of fear: all looked anxious, some
trembled quite perceptibly, and one looked as pale as a live Indian can
look. They probably dreaded the displeasure of the gods if all were not
done well.
124. LAST NIGHT. Just after sunset the old chanter posted himself some
paces to the east of the great woodpile, on the spot where the gate of
the corral was to be, and began a song. Simultaneous with the beginning
of the song was the commencement of the building of the dark circle. All
the young and middleaged men in camp assisted. They dragged the branches
from where they had been cut down in the neighboring woods and put them
in position in the circle with great celerity. The work was all done in
less than an hour, during which time the chanter ceased not for an
instant his song and rattle. When the fence was finished to his
satisfaction he stopped his song and the labors of the workmen ceased
with the sound. When finished the corral averaged about forty paces in
diameter, and the fence was about eight feet high, with an opening left
in the east about ten feet wide.
125. The moment the dark circle of branches was finished it inclosed
sacred ground. Any dog who dared to enter was chased out with shouts and
missiles. The man or woman who came must, on the first occasion, pass
around to the left, i.e., to the south of the great woodpile. No one
was allowed to peep through the fence or look over the edge of if to
witness the ceremonies. That part of the auditorium was reserved for the
spirits of the bears and other ancestral animal gods. No horse might be
led into the inclosure until after sunrise next morning, when the fence
was razed and all became common soil once more.
126. When the night began to fall many of the visitors moved all their
goods into the corral and lighted there a number of small fires close to
the fence, temporarily abandoning their huts and shelters outside. Those
who did not move in left watchers to protect their property; for there
are thieves among the Navajo. The woods around the corral were lighted
up in various directions by the fires of those who had not taken their
property into the great inclosure and of parties who were practicing
dances and shows of an exoteric character.
127. The nocturnal performances of _this_ evening (Tuesday, October 28,
1884) were as meager as any I have seen within the dark circle of
branches. The best show I ever witnessed in the circle was one which
took place at Keam’s Cañon, Arizona, on the 5th of November, 1882. For
this reason I will make the notes taken on the latter occasion the basis
of my description of the “corral dance,” adding as I proceed such
comments as may be justified by subsequent observation and information.
128. At 8 o’clock a band of musicians which I will call the orchestra
entered, sat down beside one of the small fires in the west, and began
to make various vocal and instrumental noises of a musical character,
which continued with scarcely any interruption until the close of the
dance in the morning. At the moment the music began the great central
fire was lighted, and the conflagration spread so rapidly through the
entire pile that in a few moments it was enveloped in great flames.
A storm of sparks flew upward to the height of a hundred feet or more,
and the descending ashes fell in the corral like a light shower of snow.
The heat was soon so intense that in the remotest parts of the inclosure
it was necessary for one to screen his face when he looked towards the
fire. And now all was ready to test the endurance of the dancers who
must expose, or seem to expose (paragraph 149), their naked breasts to
the torrid glow.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XII
DANCE OF NAHIKÀÏ.]
129. _First dance_ (Plate XII). When the fire gave out its most intense
heat, a warning whistle was heard in the outer darkness, and a dozen
forms, lithe and lean, dressed only in the narrow white breechcloth and
moccasins, and daubed with white earth until they seemed a group of
living marbles, came bounding through the entrance, yelping like wolves
and slowly moving around the fire. As they advanced in single file they
threw their bodies into divers attitudes--some graceful, some strained
and difficult, some menacing. Now they faced the east, now the south,
the west, the north, bearing aloft their slender wands tipped with eagle
down, holding and waving them with surprising effects. Their course
around the fire was to the left, i.e., from the east to the west, by
way of the south, and back again to the east by way of the north,
a course taken by all the dancers of the night, the order never being
reversed. When they had encircled the fire twice they began to thrust
their wands toward it, and it soon became evident that their object was
to burn off the tips of eagle down; but owing to the intensity of the
heat it was difficult to accomplish this, or at least they acted well
the part of striving against such difficulty. One would dash wildly
towards the fire and retreat; another would lie as close to the ground
as a frightened lizard and endeavor to wriggle himself up to the fire;
others sought to catch on their wands the sparks flying in the air. One
approached the flaming mass, suddenly threw himself on his back with his
head to the fire, and swiftly thrust his wand into the flames. Many were
the unsuccessful attempts; but, at length, one by one, they all
succeeded in burning the downy balls from the ends of their wands. As
each accomplished this feat it became his next duty to restore the ball
of down. The mechanism of this trick has been described (paragraph 120),
but the dancer feigned to produce the wonderful result by merely waving
his wand up and down as he continued to run around the fire. When he
succeeded he held his wand up in triumph, yelped, and rushed out of the
corral. The last man pretended to have great difficulty in restoring the
down. When at last he gave his triumphant yell and departed it was ten
minutes to 9. The dance had lasted twenty minutes.
130. In other repetitions of this ceremony the writer has witnessed more
of burlesque than on this occasion. Sometimes the performers have worn
immense false mustaches, exaggerated imitations of spectacles and of
other belongings of their white neighbors. Sometimes the dance has
assumed a character which will not be described in this place
(paragraph 146). It is called nahikàï-alil. The former word signifies
“it becomes white again” and refers to the reappearance of the eagle
down. The show is said to have been introduced among the Navajo at the
great corral dance mentioned in the myth (paragraphs 69-72) by a tribe
from the south named ¢ildjèhe. It is no essential part of the rites of
the dark circle, yet I have never known it to be omitted, probably
because it is a most suitable dance for the time when the fire is the
hottest.
[Illustration: FIG. 54. Dancer holding up the great plumed arrow.]
[Illustration: FIG. 55. Dancer “swallowing” the great plumed arrow.]
131. _Second dance._ After an interval of three-quarters of an hour, the
dance of the kátso-yisçàn, the great plumed arrow, the potent healing
ceremony of the night, began. There were but two performers. They were
dressed and arrayed much like the akáninili, but they bore no meal bags,
wore no beaver collars, and the parts of their bodies that were not
painted black--legs and forearms--were daubed with white earth. Instead
of the wand of the akáninili, each bore in his hand one of the great
plumed arrows. While they were making the usual circuits around the
fire, the patient (a man on this occasion) was placed sitting on a
buffalo robe in front of the orchestra. They halted before the patient;
each dancer seized his arrow between his thumb and forefinger about
eight inches from the tip, held the arrow up to view, giving a
coyote-like yelp, as if to say, “So far will I swallow it” (Fig. 54),
and then appeared to thrust the arrow, slowly and painfully, down his
throat (Fig. 55) as far as indicated. While the arrows seemed still to
be stuck in their throats, they danced a chassé, right and left, with
short, shuffling steps. Then they withdrew the arrows, and held them up
to view as before, with triumphant yelps, as if to say, “So far have I
swallowed it.” Sympathizers in the audience yelped in response. The next
thing to be done was to apply the arrows. One of the dancers advanced to
the patient, and to the soles of the feet of the latter he pressed the
magic weapon with its point to the right, and again with its point to
the left. In a similar manner he treated the knees, hands, abdomen,
back, shoulders, crown, and mouth in the order named, giving three
coyote-like yelps after each application. When the first dancer had
completed the work, the other took his place and went through exactly
the same performance. This finished, the sick man and the buffalo robe
were removed. The bearers of the arrows danced once more around the fire
and departed.
132. The plumed arrow is frequently referred to in the songs of this
rite. It seems to be the most revered implement and the act in which it
appears the most revered alili of the night. All the other shows may be
omitted at will, but the dance of the kátso-yisçàn, it is said, must
never be neglected. I have witnessed other performances where the arrow
swallowers reappeared with their numbers increased to six or eight. The
additional dancers all pretended to swallow arrows, but they did not
apply them to the patient. The origin of this alili is well accounted
for in the myth (paragraphs 47, 55, and 69), and the peculiar
significance of the injunction not to break the arrow is easily
understood when we know how the arrow is made.
133. _Third dance._ At 10 o’clock the sound of the whistle again called
the spectators to attention and a line of twenty-three dancers came in
sight. The one who led the procession bore in his hand a whizzer
(Fig. 56) such as schoolboys use, a stick tied to the end of a string;
this he constantly whirled, producing a sound like that of a rain storm.
After him came one who represented a character, the Yébaka (anglicized,
Yaybaka), from the great nine days’ ceremony of the klédji-qaçàl, or
night chant, and lie wore a blue buckskin mask that belongs to the
character referred to. From time to time he gave the peculiar hoot or
call of the Yàybichy, “hu‘hu‘hu‘hu” (paragraph 32). After him followed
eight wand bearers. They were dressed like the bearers of the great
plumed arrows; but instead of an arrow each bore a wand made of grass,
cactus, and eagle plumes. The rest of the band were choristers in
ordinary dress. As they were all proceeding round the fire for the
fourth time they halted in the west, the choristers safe and the
standing wand bearers formed a double row of four. Then the Yaybaka
began to hoot, the orchestra to play, the choristers to sing, the
whizzer to make his mimic storm, and the wand bearers to dance. The
latter, keeping perfect time with the orchestra, went through a series
of figures not unlike those of a modern quadrille. In our terpsichorean
nomenclature the “calls” might have thus been given: “Forward and back.
Chassez twice. Face partners. Forward and back. Forward and bow. Forward
and embrace. Forward and wave wands at partners,” &c. When several of
these evolutions had been performed in a graceful and orderly manner,
the choristers rose, and all went singing out at the east.
134. Three times more the same band returned. In the third and fourth
acts the wands were exchanged for great piñon poles (eight to ten feet
long), portions of which they pretended to swallow, as their
predecessors had done with the arrows. (Paragraph 48.) That the simple
and devoted Pueblo Indian does actually, in dances of this character,
thrust a stick far down his gullet, to the great danger of health and
even of life, there is little reason to doubt; but the wily Navajo
attempts no such prodigies of deglutition. A careful observation of
their movements on the first occasion convinced me that the stick never
passed below the fauces, and subsequent experience in the medicine lodge
only strengthened the conviction (paragraph 121).
[Illustration: FIG. 56. The whizzer.]
135. The instrument designated above as the whizzer is a thin, flat,
pointed piece of wood, painted black and sparkling with the specular
iron ore which is sprinkled on the surface; three small pieces of
turquoise are inlaid in the wood to represent eyes and mouth. One
whizzer which I examined was nine inches long, one and three-fourths
inches broad, and about a quarter of an inch thick in the thickest part.
(Fig. 56.) To it was attached a string about two feet long, by means of
which the centrifugal motion was imparted to it. It is called by the
Navajo tsín-¢e‘ní‘, or groaning stick. It is used among many tribes of
the southwest in their ceremonies. The Navajo chanters say that the
sacred groaning stick may only be made of the wood of a pine tree which
has been struck by lightning.
136. In the _Fourth dance_ there were about thirty choristers, in
ordinary dress, bearing piñon wands; there was a man who shook a rattle,
another who whirled the groaning stick, and there were three principal
dancers, wearing fancy masks and representing characters from the rites
of the klèdji qaçàl or dance of the “Yàybichy.” These three danced a
lively and graceful jig, in perfect time to the music, with many bows,
waving of wands, simultaneous evolutions, and other pretty motions which
might have graced the spectacular drama of a metropolitan theater. Three
times they left the corral for a moment, and returning varied the dance,
and always varied to improve. The wands they bore were large light
frames of reeds adorned with large eagle plumes.
137. After this there was an interval of nearly an hour, which passed
slowly with those in the corral. Some smoked and gossiped; some listened
to the never ceasing din of the orchestra or joined in the chant; some
brought in wood and replenished the waning fires; some, wrapped in their
serapea, stretched themselves on the ground to catch short naps.
138. _Fifth dance._ It was after midnight when the blowing of a hoarse
buffalo horn announced the approach of those who were to perform the
fifth dance, the tcòhanoai alili or sun show. There were twenty-four
choristers and a rattler. There were two character dancers, who were
arrayed, like so many others, in little clothing and much paint. Their
heads and arms were adorned with plumes of the war eagle, their necks
with rich necklaces of genuine coral, their waists with valuable silver
studded belts, and their loins with bright sashes of crimson silk. One
bore on his back a round disk, nine inches in diameter, decorated with
radiating eagle plumes to represent the sun. The other carried a disk,
six and a half inches in diameter, similarly ornamented, to symbolize
the moon. Each bore a skeleton wand of reeds that reminded one of the
frame of a great kite; it was ornamented with pendant eagle plumes that
swayed with every motion of the dancer. While the whole party was
passing round the fire in the usual manner wands were waved and heads
bowed towards the flames. When it stopped in the west the choristers sat
and sang and the rattler stood and rattled, while the bearers of the sun
and the moon danced at a lively rate for just three minutes. Then the
choristers rose and all sang and danced themselves out of sight.
A second performance of this dance came between the first and second
repetitions of the next show.
139. I have recorded one story (but have heard of another) accounting
for the origin of this dance; it is as follows: When Dsilyi‘ Neyáni
visited the mountain of Bistcàgi, the home of Estsàn ¢igìni, these
divine beings had for ornaments on their walls the sun and the moon.
When the great mythic dance was given they were among the guests. They
brought their wall decorations, and when the time for their alili came,
they wore the sun and the moon on their backs when they danced.
140. The _Sixth dance_, that of the standing arcs, was both picturesque
and ingenious. The principal performers were eight in number, as usual
with scanty clothing. Their hair fell loose and long over back and
shoulders and each bore in front of him, held by both hands, a wooden
arc, ornamented with eagle plumes. The ends of the arc (which was a full
semicircle) showed tufts of piñon twigs, and they were evidently joined
together by a slender string, which was invisible to the audience.
Besides the eight principal actors, there was a rattler, a bearer of the
groaning stick, and a chorus. While all were making the fourth circuit
of the fire, frequent shouts of “Çòhe! Çòhe!” (Englished,
Thòhay--“Stand! stand!” or “Stay! stay!”) were heard, the significance
of which soon became apparent. When they stopped in the west, the eight
character dancers first went through various quadrille-like figures,
such as were witnessed in the third dance, and then knelt in two rows
that faced one another. At a word from the rattler the man who was
nearest to him (whom I will call No. 1) arose, advanced to the man who
knelt opposite to him (No. 2) with rapid, shuffling steps, and amid a
chorus of “Thòhay! Thòhay!” placed his arc with caution upon the head of
the latter. Although it was held in position by the friction of the
piñon tufts at each ear and by the pressure of the ends of the arc, now
drawn closer by the subtending string, it had the appearance of standing
on the head without material support, and it is probable that many of
the uninitiated believed that only the magic influence of the
oft-repeated word “Thòhay” kept it in position. When the arc was secured
in its place, No. 1 retreated with shuffling steps to his former
position and fell on his knees again. Immediately No. 2 advanced and
placed the arc which he held in his hand on the head of No. 1. Thus each
in turn placed his arc on the head of the one who knelt opposite to him
until all wore their beautiful halo-like headdresses. Then, holding
their heads rigidly erect, lest their arcs should fall, the eight
kneeling figures began a splendid, well timed chant, which was
accentuated by the clapping of hands and joined in by the chorus. When
the chant was done the rattler addressed the arc bearers, warning them
to be careful; so they cautiously arose from their knees and shuffled
with stiffened spines out of the corral, preceded by the choristers.
This dance was repeated after the second performance of the fifth dance.
141. _Seventh dance._ The arc bearers had scarcely disappeared when
another troupe entered the circle, the buffalo horn announcing their
coming. A man with a whizzer led the procession. The choristers, in
ordinary dress, were thirteen in number. The principal dancers were but
two; they wore the usual sash and belt; the uncovered skin was painted
white; they had on long blue woolen stockings of Navajo make and
moccasins. Each bore a slender wand of two triangles of reeds adorned at
the corners with pendant plumes. They saluted the fire as they danced
around it. They halted in the west, where the choristers sat down, and
the two wand bearers danced for three minutes in a lively and graceful
manner, to the music of the whizzer, the rattle, the choristers, and the
drum of the orchestra. These returned twice more, making some variation
in their performance each time. In the second act the rattler brought in
under his arm a basket containing yucca leaves, and a prayer was said to
the sun. It is possible that this dance was but a preliminary part of
the eighth dance, but it must be described as a separate alili.
142. _Eighth dance._ In this there were sixteen performers, in ordinary
Navajo dress. One of these bore the whizzer and led the procession;
another, who came in the center of the line, carried a hewn plank, or
puncheon, about 12 feet long and 4 inches broad, painted with spots and
decorated with tufts of piñon branchlets and with eagle plumes;
immediately behind the bearer of the plank walked a man who had in a
basket an effigy of the sun, formed of a small round mirror and a number
of radiating scarlet plumes. Having walked around the fire as usual, the
whole party gathered in the west in a close circle, which completely
excluded from the sight of the audience the operations of the actors.
Singing, rattling, and cries of “Thòhay!” were heard. In a few minutes
the circle opened and the hewn plank, standing upright on a small Navajo
blanket, without any apparent prop or support, was disclosed to view. At
the base of the plank was the basket holding the figure of the sun.
Singing was continued and so were the uproarious cries of
“Thòhay”--cries anxious, cries appealing, cries commanding--while the
bearer of the rattle stood facing the pole and rattling vigorously at
it. At length, seemingly in obedience to all this clamor, the solar
image left the basket and slowly, falteringly, totteringly, ascended the
plank to within a few inches of the top. Here it stopped a moment and
then descended in the same manner in which it rose. Once more was it
made to rise and set, when the circle of dancers again closed, the
plank, sun, and basket were taken in custody, and the dancers departed.
Taking into consideration the limited knowledge and rude implements of
the originators (for this alili is not of modern origin), this was a
well performed trick. The means used for supporting the pole and pulling
up the sun could not be detected. The dancers formed a semicircle nearly
ten feet distant from the pole and the light of the central fire shone
brightly upon all.
143. _Ninth dance._ It was after 1 o’clock in the morning when the dance
of the hoshkàwn (_Yucca baccata_) began. (Fig. 57. See paragraph 3.)
The ceremony was conducted in the first part by twenty-two persons in
ordinary dress. One bore, exposed to view, a natural root of yucca,
crowned with its cluster of root leaves, which remain green all winter.
The rest bore in their hands wands of piñon. What other properties they
may have had concealed under their blankets the reader will soon be able
to conjecture. On their third journey around the fire they halted in the
west and formed a close circle for the purpose of concealing their
operations, such as was made in the eighth dance. After a minute spent
in singing and many repetitions of “Thòhay,” the circle opened,
disclosing to our view the yucca root planted in the sand. Again the
circle closed; again the song, the rattle, and the chorus of “Thòhay”
were heard, and when the circle was opened the second time an excellent
counterfeit of the small budding flower stalk was seen amid the fascicle
of leaves. A third time the dancers formed their ring of occultation;
after the song and din had continued for a few seconds the circle parted
for the third time, when, all out of season, the great panicle of creamy
yucca flowers gleamed in the firelight. The previous transformations of
the yucca had been greeted with approving shouts and laughter; the
blossoms were hailed with storms of applause. For the fourth and last
time the circle closed, and when again it opened the blossoms had
disappeared and the great, dark green fruit hung in abundance from the
pedicels. When the last transformation was completed the dancers went
once more around the fire and departed, leaving the fruitful yucca
behind them.
[Illustration: FIG. 57. Yucca baccata.]
144. In a moment after they had disappeared the form of one personating
an aged, stupid, short sighted, decrepit man was seen to emerge slowly
from among the crowd of spectators in the east. He was dressed in an old
and woefully ragged suit and wore a high, pointed hat. His face was
whitened and he bore a short, crooked, wooden bow and a few crooked, ill
made arrows. His mere appearance provoked the “stoic” audience to
screams of laughter, and his subsequent “low comedy business,” which
excelled much that I have seen on the civilized stage, failed not to
meet with uproarious demonstrations of approval. Slowly advancing as he
enacted his part, he in time reached the place where the yucca stood,
and, in his imbecile totterings, he at length stumbled on the plant and
pretended to have his flesh lacerated by the sharp leaves. He gave a
tremulous cry of pain, rubbed saliva on the part supposed to be wounded,
and muttered his complaints in a weak and shaking voice. He pretended
then to seek for the plant, and was three times wounded in his efforts
to find it. At length, kneeling on the ground, with his face buried in
the leaves, he feigned to discover it, and rejoiced with querulous
extravagance over his success. When he had marked the spot and the way
back to it with an exaggerated burlesque of the Indian methods of doing
these things, he went off to find his “old woman” and bring her to pick
the fruit. Soon he returned with a tall, stalwart man, dressed to
represent a hideous, absurd-looking old granny. The latter acted his
part throughout the rest of the drama with a skill fully equal to that
of his comrade.
145. There were scenes in this drama which may not be told in this
connection. It will suffice to say here that when the yucca fruit was
picked and put in the basket the old man helped the “woman” to shoulder
her load and the pair left the corral. The hackàn-inçá‘ does not
invariably appear in the corral dance. I have attended one ceremony
where it was omitted. I have heard two descriptions of the dance which
differed very much from the one given above.
146. Many facts concerning not only the hackàn inçá‘, but other parts of
the mountain chant, have not been allowed to appear in this essay.
Recognized scientists may learn of them by addressing the author through
the Director of the Bureau of Ethnology.
147. _Tenth dance._ At twenty minutes past three an uninteresting
performance called the “bear dance” began. A man entered on all fours;
his face was painted white; he wore around his loins and over his
shoulders pieces of some dark pelt which may have been bear skin, but
looked more like the skin of a black sheep. The fire had now burned low
and the light was dim. He was accompanied by two attendants, one of whom
carried a rattle. He went twice around the ring, imitating the lumbering
gait of the bear. He occasionally made a clumsy lunge sidewise at some
of the spectators, as though he would attack them; but on these
occasions the man with the rattle headed him off and rattling in his
face directed him back to the usual course around the fire. This show
lasted five minutes.
148. The _Eleventh dance_, was the fire dance, or fire play, which was
the most picturesque and startling of all. Some time before the actors
entered, we heard, mingled with the blowing of the buffalo horn, strange
sounds, much like the call of the sand-hill crane; they will, for
convenience, be called trumpeting. These sounds continued to grow louder
and come nearer until they were heard at the opening in the east, and in
a second after, ten men, having no more clothing on than the performers
in the first dance, entered. Every man except the leader bore a long
thick bundle of shredded cedar bark in each hand and one had two extra
bundles on his shoulders for the later use of the leader. The latter
carried four small fagots of the same material in his hands. Four times
they all danced around the fire, waving their bundles of bark towards
it. They halted in the east; the leader advanced towards the central
fire, lighted one of his fagots, and trumpeting loudly threw it to the
east over the fence of the corral. He performed a similar act at the
south, at the west, and at the north; but before the northern brand was
thrown he lighted with it the bark bundles of his comrades. As each
brand disappeared over the fence some of the spectators blew into their
hands and made a motion as if tossing some substance after the departing
flame. When the fascicles were all lighted the whole band began a wild
race around the fire. At first they kept close together and spat upon
one another some substance of supposed medicinal virtue. Soon they
scattered and ran apparently without concert, the rapid racing causing
the brands to throw out long brilliant streamers of flame over the hands
and arms of the dancers. Then they proceeded to apply the brands to
their own nude bodies and to the bodies of their comrades in front of
them, no man ever once turning round; at times the dancer struck his
victim vigorous blows with his flaming wand; again he seized the flame
as if it were a sponge and, keeping close to the one pursued, rubbed the
back of the latter for several moments, as if he were bathing him. In
the mean time the sufferer would perhaps catch up with some one in front
of him and in turn bathe him in flame. At times when a dancer found no
one in front of him he proceeded to sponge his own back, and might keep
this up while making two or three circuits around the fire or until he
caught up with some one else. At each application of the blaze the loud
trumpeting was heard, and it often seemed as if a great flock of cranes
was winging its way overhead southward through the darkness. If a brand
became extinguished it was lighted again in the central fire; but when
it was so far consumed as to be no longer held conveniently in the hand,
the dancer dropped it and rushed, trumpeting, out of the corral. Thus,
one by one, they all departed. When they were gone many of the
spectators came forward, picked up some of the fallen fragments of cedar
bark, lighted them, and bathed their hands in the flames as a charm
against the evil effects of fire.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XIII
FIRE DANCE.]
149. Did these dancers, next day, hide sore and blistered backs under
their serapes? I think not, for I have seen and conversed with some of
the performers immediately after the fire show, and they seemed happy
and had nothing to complain of. Did the medicine they spat on one
another save them? Certainly not, although the Indians claim it is a
true prophylactic against burns and call it azè-sakázi or cold medicine.
But it is probable that the cedar bark ignites at a low temperature, and
more than probable that the coating of white earth with which their
bodies were covered is an excellent non-conductor. However, the thought
that their bodies might have been thus ingeniously protected lessened
little, if any, the effect produced on the spectator. I have seen many
fire scenes on the stage, many acts of fire eating and fire handling by
civilized jugglers, and many fire dances by other Indian tribes, but
nothing quite comparable to this in all its scenic effects.
150. The closing ceremonies I did not witness on this occasion, but I
saw them at subsequent dances. Shortly before sunrise an assistant
passed around the fire four times and sprinkled a little water on the
mass of smoldering embers, while the medicine man chanted the
appropriate song. Later, three gaps were torn in the circle of
branches--one in the south, one in the west, and one in the
north--making, with the original gate in the east, four entrances to the
corral. (See Plate XIV.) Just after sunrise the entire circle of
branches was razed, but the branches were not carried away. The traveler
through the Navajo country often encounters withered remains of these
circles. In the ceremony of October, 1884, the chanter, having another
engagement which was pressing, packed up his sacred utensils and left
soon after sunrise. The patient, it was said, was not permitted to sleep
until after sunset.
151. _Other dances._ In subsequent dances I saw exhibitions which did
not occur in the ceremony of November 5, 1882, just described, and I
have learned of other shows produced on the last night, which I have
never had an opportunity to witness. All the alilis may be modified.
I have rarely seen two performances of the same dance which were just
alike.
152. On two occasions I have witnessed a very pretty dance, in which an
eagle plume was stuck upright in a basket and by means of some well
hidden mechanism caused to dance in good time to the song, the beat of
the drum, and the motions of the single Indian who danced at the same
time; not only this, but the feather followed the motions of the Indian:
if he danced toward the north, the feather leaned to the north while
making its rhythmical motions; if he moved to the south, it bent its
white head in the same direction, and so on. On one occasion it was a
little boy, five years old, son of the chief Manuelito, who danced with
the eagle plume. He was dressed and painted much like the akáninili, or
the arrow swallowers (Figs. 54, 55), on a diminutive scale. The sash of
scarlet velvet around his hips was beautifully trimmed with feathers.
They said he had been several weeks in training for the dance, and he
certainly went through his varied motions with great skill. I have
rarely seen a terpsichorean spectacle that struck my fancy more than
that of the little Indian child and his partner, the eagle plume.
153. It might be thought that the word “thòhay,” so often used to make
inanimate objects pay attention, was one of very sacred import. So it
is, no doubt; yet I have seen it broadly burlesqued. It was on the
occasion of the last “chant” which I attended. A number of boys, from
twelve to fifteen years of age they seemed, led by a pleasant looking
old man with a skeptical twinkle in his eye, came into the dark circle.
One of the party carried a deep Indian basket, from the top of which a
number of spruce twigs protruded. They formed what has been designated
as the ring of occultation, and while doing so they shouted and screamed
and puffed the talismanic “thòhay” in a way that left no doubt of their
intention to ridicule. Their extravagant motions added to the
significance of their intonation. When the ring opened the boys sat on
the ground and began to sing and beat a drum. The old man sat at a
distance of about three paces west of the basket. Presently the nose of
a little weasel (the image being probably a stuffed skin) appeared among
the spruce boughs. All the timid, inquiring motions of the little animal
were well mimicked: the nose was thrust forward and pulled back, the
whole head would emerge and retreat, and at rare times the shoulders
would be seen for a moment, to be quickly drawn in among the screening
spruce twigs. All these motions were made in perfect time to the singing
and drumming. The old man who pulled the actuating strings made no
secret of his manipulations. The play was intended for a farce, and as
such the spectators enjoyed it.
THE GREAT PICTURES OF DSILYÍDJE QAÇÀL.
154. A description of the four great pictures drawn in these ceremonies
has been deferred until all might be described together. Their relations
to one another rendered this the most desirable course to pursue. The
preparation of the ground and of the colors, the application of the
sacred pollen, and some other matters have been already considered.
155. The men who do the greater part of the actual work of painting,
under the guidance of the chanter, have been initiated, but need not be
skilled medicine men or even aspirants to the craft of the shaman.
A certain ceremony of initiation has been performed on them four times,
each time during the course of a different dance, before they are
admitted into the lodge during the progress of the work or allowed to
assist in it. The medicine man receives a good present in horses for his
work; the assistants get nothing but their food. This, however, is
abundant. Three times a day the person for whose benefit the dance is
performed sends in enough mush, corn cake, soup, and roasted mutton to
satisfy to the utmost the appetites of all in the lodge. There are some
young men who live well all winter by going around the country from
dance to dance and assisting in the work of the lodge.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XIV
THE DARK CIRCLE OF BRANCHES AT SUNRISE.]
156. The pictures are drawn according to an exact system. The shaman is
frequently seen correcting the workmen and making them erase and revise
their work. In certain well defined instances the artist is allowed to
indulge his individual fancy. This is the case with the gaudy
embroidered pouches which the gods carry at the waist. Within reasonable
bounds the artist may give his god just as handsome a pouch as he
wishes. Some parts of the figures, on the other hand, are measured by
palms and spans, and not a line of the sacred design can be varied.
Straight and parallel lines are drawn by aid of a tightened cord. The
mode of applying the colored powder is peculiar. The artist has his bark
trays laid on the sand where they are convenient of access. He takes a
small quantity of the powder in his closed palm and allows it to pass
out between his thumb and forefinger, while the former is moved across
the latter. When he makes a mistake he does not brush away the pigment.
He obliterates it by pouring sand on it, and then draws the corrected
design on the new surface. The forms of the gods do not appear as I have
represented them in the first coat of color. The naked figures of these
mythical beings are first completely and accurately drawn and then the
clothing is put on. Even in the pictures of the “Long-bodies”
(Plate XVII), which are drawn 9 feet in length, the naked body is first
made in its appropriate color--white for the east, blue for the south,
yellow for the west, and black for the north--and then the four red
shirts are painted on from thigh to axilla, as shown in the picture.
157. The drawings are, as a rule, begun as much towards the center as
the nature of the figure will permit, due regard being paid to the order
of precedence of the points of the compass, the figure in the east being
begun first, that in the south next, that in the west third in order,
and that in the north fourth. The periphery is finished last of all. The
reason for thus working from within outwards is that the men employed on
the picture disturb the smooth surface of the sand with their feet. If
they proceed in the order described they can smooth the sand as they
advance and need not cross the finished portions of the picture.
158. I have learned of seventeen great healing dances of the Navajo in
which pictures of this character are drawn. There are said to be, with
few exceptions--only one exception that I am positively aware of--four
pictures appropriate to each dance. Some of the dances are practiced
somewhat differently by different schools or orders among the medicine
men, and in these divers forms the pictures, although agreeing in
general design, vary somewhat in detail. Thus there are, on an average,
probably more than four designs, belonging to each of the seventeen
ceremonies, whose names I have obtained. If there were but four to each,
this would give us sixty-eight such paintings known to the medicine men
of the tribe, and thus we may form some conception of the great number
of these sacred pictures which they possess. But I have reason to
believe, from many things I have heard, that besides these seventeen
great nine days’ ceremonies to which I refer, there are many minor
ceremonies, with their appropriate pictures; so that the number is
probably greater than that which I give.
159. These pictures, the medicine men aver, are transmitted from teacher
to pupil in each order and for each ceremony unaltered from year to year
and from generation to generation. That such is strictly the case I
cannot believe. There are no standard pictures on hand anywhere. No
permanent design for reference is ever in existence, and there is, so
far as I can learn, no final authority in the tribe to settle any
disputes that may arise. Few of these great ceremonies can be performed
in the summer months. Most of the figures are therefore carried over
from winter to winter in the memories of fallible men. But this much I
do credit, that any innovations which may creep into their work are
unintentional and that if changes occur they are wrought very slowly.
The shamans and their faithful followers believe, or profess to believe,
that the direst vengeance of the gods would visit them if these rites
were varied in the least in picture, prayer, song, or ceremonial. The
mere fact that there are different schools among the medicine men may be
regarded as an evidence that changes have occurred.
160. FIRST PICTURE. The picture of the first day (Plate XV) is said to
represent the visit of Dsilyi‘ Neyáni to the home of the snakes at
Qo¢estsò. (Paragraph 53.)
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XV
FIRST DRY-PAINTING]
161. In the center of the picture was a circular concavity, about six
inches in diameter, intended to represent water, presumably the house of
water mentioned in the myth. In all the other pictures where water was
represented a small bowl was actually sunk in the ground and filled with
water, which water was afterwards sprinkled with powdered charcoal to
give the impression of a flat, dry surface. Why the bowl of water was
omitted in this picture I do not know, but a medicine man of a different
fraternity from that of the one who drew the picture informed me that
with men of his school the bowl filled with water was used in the snake
picture as well as in the others. Closely surrounding this central
depression are four parallelograms about four inches by ten inches in
the original pictures. The half nearer the center is red; the outer half
is blue; they are bordered with narrow lines of white. The same figures
are repeated in other paintings. They appear in this drawing, and
frequently in others, as something on which the gods seem to stand. They
are the ca‘bitlòl, or rafts of sunbeam, the favorite vessels on which
the divine ones navigate the upper deep. In the Navajo myths, when a god
has a particularly long and speedy journey to make, he takes two
sunbeams and, placing them side by side, is borne off in a twinkling
whither he wills. Red is the color proper to sunlight in their
symbolism, but the red and blue together represent sunbeams in the
morning and evening skies when they show an alternation of blue and red.
It will be seen later that the sunbeam shafts, the halo, and the rainbow
are represented by the same colors. In form, however, the halo is
circular, and the rainbow is distinguished by its curvature, and it is
usually anthropomorphic, while the sunbeam and the halo are not.
External to these sunbeam rafts, and represented as standing on them,
are the figures of eight serpents, two white ones in the east, two blue
ones in the south, two yellow ones in the west, and two black ones in
the north. These snakes cross one another (in pairs) so as to form four
figures like the letter +X+. In drawing these +X+’s the snake which
appears to be beneath is made first complete in every respect, and then
the other snake is drawn over it in conformity with their realistic laws
of art before referred to. The neck, in all cases, is blue, crossed with
four bands of red. The necks of the gods in all the pictures, it will be
observed, are made thus, but the bars in the manlike figures run
transversely, while those in the snake-like run diagonally. Three rows
of +V+-shaped figures, four in each row, are seen on the backs of the
snakes; these are simply to represent mottlings. Outside of these eight
snakes are four more of much greater length; they form a frame or
boundary to the picture, except in the west, where the mountain of
Dsilyà-içín lies beyond them. There is a white snake in the east, lying
from north to south and bounding the picture in the east; a blue snake,
of similar size and shape, in the south; a yellow one in the west, and a
black one in the north. They seem as if following one another around the
picture in the direction of the sun’s apparent course, the head of the
east snake approximating the tail of the south snake, and so on.
162. In the northeast is seen the yay, Niltci, who accompanied the
Navajo prophet to the home of the snakes. In the extreme west is a black
circular figure representing the mountain of Dsilyà-içín. In the
original picture the mountain was in relief--which I have not attempted
to represent--a little mound of about ten or twelve inches high. The
description of the mountain given in the myth is duly symbolized in the
picture, the halo added. The green spot in the center is designed to
represent a twig of spruce which was stuck in the mound of sand to
indicate the spruce tree door. From the summit of the mountain to the
middle of the central waters is drawn a wide line in corn meal, with
four footprints, depicted at intervals, in the same material. This
represents the track of a bear. Immediately south of this track is the
figure of an animal drawn in gray pigment. This is the grizzly himself,
which here, I have reason to believe, is used as a symbol of the Navajo
prophet. The bear, in the sacred language of the shamans, is
appropriately called Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, since he is truly reared within the
mountains. His track, being represented by a streak of meal, has
reference to the same thing as the name akáninili and the practice of
the couriers (paragraph 102), who are dressed to represent the prophet,
throwing corn meal in front of them when they travel.
163. The SECOND PICTURE is said to be a representation of the painting,
which the prophet saw in the home of the bears in the Carrizo Mountains
(paragraph 40). In the center of this figure is the bowl of water
covered with black powder, to which I referred before. The edge of the
bowl is adorned with sunbeams, and external to it are the four
ca‘bitlol, or sunbeam rafts, on which seem to stand four gods, or yays.
164. The divine forms are shaped alike but colored differently. They lie
with heads extended outward, one to each of the four cardinal points of
the compass, the faces looking forward, the arms half extended on either
side, with the hands raised to a level with the shoulders. They wear
around their loins skirts of red sunlight, adorned with sunbeams. They
have ear pendants, bracelets, and armlets, blue and red (of turquoise
and coral), the prehistoric and emblematic jewels of the Navajo. Their
forearms and legs are black, showing in each a zigzag mark to represent
lightning on the surface of the black rain clouds. In the north god
these colors are, for artistic reasons, reversed. Each bears, attached
to his right hand with a string, a rattle, a charm, and a basket. The
rattle is of the shape of those used by the medicine men in this
particular dance, made of raw hide and painted to symbolize the rain
cloud and lightning. The left hand is empty; but beside each one is a
highly conventionalized picture of a plant. The left hand remains empty,
as it were, to grasp this plant, to indicate that the plant at the left
hand belongs to the god whose corresponding hand is unoccupied and
extended towards it. The proprietorship of each god in his own
particular plant is further indicated by making the plant the same color
as the god. The body of the eastern god is white; so is the stalk of
corn at his left, in the southeast. The body of the southern god is
blue; so is the beanstalk beside him, in the southwest. The body of the
western god is yellow; so is his pumpkin vine, in the northwest. The
body of the north god is black; so is the tobacco plant, which is under
his special protection, in the northeast.
165. Each of the four sacred plants is represented as growing from five
white roots in the central waters and spreading outwards to the
periphery of the picture. The gods form one cross whose limbs are
directed to the four cardinal points; the plants form another cross
having a common center with the first named cross, but whose limbs
extend to the intermediate points of the compass.
166. On the head of each yay is an eagle plume lying horizontally and
pointing to the right. A similar arrangement of four plumes, all
pointing in one direction (contrary to the sun’s apparent course), may
be observed on the baskets carried by the gods.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XVI
SECOND DRY PAINTING]
167. The gods are represented with beautiful embroidered pouches, each
of a different pattern. In old days the most beautiful things in art the
Navajo knew of were the porcupine quill embroideries of the northern
races. The art of garnishing with quills, and later with beads, seems
never to have been practiced to any extent by the Navajo women. They
obtained embroideries of the Ute and other northern tribes, and their
ancient legends abound in allusions to the great esteem in which they
held them. (See, for instance, paragraphs 32, 34.) Hence, to represent
the grandeur and potency of their gods, they adorn them with these
beautiful and much coveted articles.
168. Surrounding the picture on about three-fourths of its circumference
is the anthropomorphic rainbow or rainbow deity. It consists of two long
stripes, each about two inches wide in the original picture, one of
blue, one of red, bordered and separated by narrow lines of white. At
the southeastern end of the bow is a representation of the body below
the waist, such as the other gods have, consisting of pouch, skirt,
legs, and feet. At the northeastern end we have head, neck, and arms.
The head of the rainbow is rectangular, while the heads of the other
forms in this picture are round. In the pictures of the Yàybichy dance
we frequently observe the same difference in the heads. Some are
rectangular, some are round; the former are females, the latter males;
and whenever any of these gods are represented, by characters, in a
dance, those who enact the females wear square stiff masks, like our
dominoes, while those who enact the males wear roundish, baglike masks,
of soft skin, that completely envelop the head. The rainbow god in all
these pictures wears the rectangular mask. Iris, therefore, is with the
Navajo as well as with the Greeks a goddess.
169. All the other gods bear something in their hands, while the hands
of the rainbow are empty. This is not without intention. When the person
for whose benefit the rites are performed is brought in to be prayed and
sung over, the sacred potion is brewed in a bowl, which is placed on the
outstretched hands of the rainbow while the ceremony is in progress and
only taken from these hands when the draught is to be administered.
Therefore the hands are disengaged, that they may hold the gourd and its
contents when the time comes (paragraph 106).
170. In the east, where the picture is not inclosed by the rainbow, we
see the forms of two birds standing with wings outstretched, facing one
another, their beaks close together. These represent certain birds of
blue plumage called by the Navajo çòli (_Sialia arctica_). This bluebird
is of the color of the south and of the upper regions. He is the herald
of the morning. His call of “çòli çòli” is the first that is heard when
the gray dawn approaches. Therefore is he sacred, and his feathers form
a component part of nearly all the plume sticks used in the worship of
this people. Two bluebirds, it is said, stand guard at the door of the
house wherein these gods dwell; hence they are represented in the east
of the picture.
171. Here is an appropriate occasion to speak of a part of Navajo
symbolism in color to which reference has already several times been
made. In the majority of cases the east is represented by white, the
south by blue, the west by yellow, the north by black; the upper world
by blue and the lower by a mixture of white and black in spots. The
colors of the south and west seem to be permanent: the south is always
blue and the west is always yellow, as far as I can learn; but the
colors of the east and north are interchangeable. The cases are rare
where white is assigned to the north and black to the east; but such
cases occur, and perhaps in each instance merit special study. Again,
black represents the male and blue the female.
172. The THIRD PICTURE commemorates the visit of Dsilyi‘ Neyáni to
Çaçò‘-behogan, or “Lodge of Dew” (paragraph 56). To indicate the great
height of the Bitsès-ninéz the figures are twice the length of any in
the other pictures, except the rainbows, and each is clothed in four
garments, one above the other, for no one garment, they say, can be made
long enough to cover such giant forms. Their heads all point to the
east, instead of pointing in different directions, as in the other
pictures. The Navajo relate, as already told (paragraph 56), that this
is in obedience to a divine mandate; but probably there is a more
practical reason, which is this: if they had the cruciform arrangement
there would not be room on, the floor of the lodge for the figures and
at the same time for the shaman, assistants, and spectators. Economy of
space is essential; but, although drawn nearly parallel to one another,
the proper order of the cardinal points is not lost sight of. The form
immediately north of the center of the picture is done first, in white,
and represents the east. That immediately next to it on the south comes
second in order, is painted in blue, and represents the south. The one
next below that is in yellow, and depicts the goddess who stood in the
west of the House of Dew-Drops. The figure in the extreme north is drawn
last of all, in black, and belongs to the north. As I have stated
before, these bodies are first made naked and afterwards clothed. The
exposed chests, arms, and thighs display the colors of which the entire
bodies were originally composed. The glòï (weasel, _Putorius_) is sacred
to these goddesses. Two of these creatures are shown in the east,
guarding the entrance to the lodge. The appendages at the sides of the
heads of the goddesses represent the glòï-bitcà, or headdresses of glòï
skins of different colors which these mythic personages are said to
wear. Each one bears attached to her right hand a rattle and a charm, or
plume stick, such as the gods in the second picture carry; but, instead
of the basket shown before, we see a conventionalized representation of
a branch of choke cherry in blossom; this consists of five diverging
stems in blue, five roots, and five cruciform blossoms in white. The
choke cherry is a sacred tree, a mountain plant; its wood is used in
making certain sacrificial plume sticks and certain implements of the
dance; it is often mentioned in the songs of this particular rite. Some
other adjuncts of this picture--the red robes embroidered with sunbeams,
the arms and legs clothed with clouds and lightning, the pendants from
the arms, the blue and red armlets, bracelets, and garters--have already
been described when speaking of the second picture. The object in the
left hand is a wand of spruce.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XVII
THIRD DRY-PAINTING]
173. The rainbow which incloses the picture on three sides is not the
anthropomorphic rainbow. It has no head, neck, arms, or lower
extremities. Five white eagle plumes adorn its southeastern extremity.
Five tail plumes of some blue bird decorate the bend in the southwest.
The plumes of the red shafted flicker (_Colaptes auratus_ var.
_mexicanus_) are near the bend in the northwest and the tail of the
magpie terminates the northeastern extremity. Throughout the myth, it
will be remembered, not only is the House of Dew-Drops spoken of as
adorned with hangings and festoons of rainbows, but many of the holy
dwellings are thus embellished.
174. The FOURTH PICTURE represents the kátso-yisçàn, or great plumed
arrows. These arrows are the especial great mystery, the potent healing
charm of this dance. The picture is supposed to be a fac simile of a
representation of these weapons, shown to the prophet when he visited
the abode of the Tsilkè-¢igini, or young men gods, where he first saw
the arrows (paragraph 47). There are eight arrows. Four are in the
center, lying parallel to one another--two pointing east and two others,
alternate, pointing west. The picture is bordered by the other four,
which have the same relative positions and directions as the bounding
serpents in the first picture. The shafts are all of the same white
tint, no attention being paid to the colors of the cardinal points; yet
in drawing and erasing the picture the cardinal points are duly honored.
Among the central arrows, the second from the top, or north margin of
the design, is that of the east; it is drawn and erased first. The next
below it is the arrow of the south; the third is that of the west. The
one on top belongs to the north; it is drawn and erased last. The heads
are painted red to represent the red stone points used; the fringed
margins show the irregularities of their edges. The plumes at the butt
are indicated, as are also the strings by which the plumes are tied on
and the notches to receive the bowstring.
175. The ground of this picture is crossed with nebulous black streaks.
These were originally present in all the pictures. I have omitted them
in all but this, lest they might obscure the details of the reduced
copies. It has been explained to me (although in the myth it is
expressly stated only in one case, paragraph 40) that all these pictures
were drawn by the gods upon the clouds and thus were shown to the Navajo
prophet. Men cannot paint on the clouds, but according to the divine
mandate they do the best they can on sand, and then sprinkle the sand
with charcoal, in the manner indicated, to represent the cloudy scrolls
whereon the primal designs of the celestial artists were painted.
SACRIFICES OF DSILYÍDJE QACÀL.
176. The sacrifices made to the gods during these ceremonies consist of
nothing more than a few sticks and feathers, with the occasional
addition of strings and beads--a form of sacrificial offering common
among various tribes of the Southwest, including the sedentary Indians,
of the pueblos. During the six days’ work in the medicine lodge and the
corral, I saw but one lot of these sticks prepared (paragraphs 86, 87);
but I think this lot represented two sets, i.e., sacrifices to two
different mythical beings. It is, however, indicated in the myth that a
considerable number of these sacrifices, called by the Navajo keçàn
(Englished, kethàwn), belong to the mountain chant and may properly be
offered during its celebration. I have seen among the Navajo a few
varieties of these devotional offerings and I have obtained descriptions
of many. Although I cannot rely on the minute accuracy of these
descriptions, I will present them for such value as they may possess in
illustrating the general character of this system of worship, a system
which might profitably occupy for years the best labors of an earnest
student to elucidate.
177. Fig. 58 represents a kethàwn belonging, not to the mountain chant,
but to the klèdji-qaçàl, or chant of the night. It is sacred to the
Youth and the Maiden of the Rock Crystal, divine beings who dwell in
Tsisnàtcini, a great mountain north of the Pueblo of Jemez. The original
is in the National Museum at Washington. It consists of two sticks
coated with white earth and joined by a cotton string a yard long, which
is tied to each stick by a clove hitch. A black bead is on the center of
the string; a turkey feather and an eagle feather are secured with the
clove hitch to one of the sticks.
[Illustration: FIG. 58. Sacrificial sticks (keçàn).]
[Illustration: FIG. 59. The talking kethàwn (keçan-yalcì‘).]
178. Fig. 59 depicts a kethàwn pertaining also to the klèdji-qaçàl. It
is called keçàn-yalçi‘, or talking kethàwn. The sticks are willow. The
one to the left is painted black, to represent a male character
(Qastcèbaka) in the myth and ceremony of klèdji-qaçàl. The other stick
is painted blue, to denote a female character (Qastcèbaäd) in the same
rites. The blue stick has a diagonal facet at the top to indicate the
square topped female mask (paragraph 168). The naturally round end of
the black stick sufficiently indicates the round male mask. The cord
wrapped around the two sticks is similar to that described in the
paragraph immediately preceding. About the middle of the cord is a long
white shell bead, shown in the cut. The breast feathers of the turkey
and the downy feathers of the eagle are attached to the sticks. This
kethàwn I saw once in the possession of a Navajo qaçàli. I was permitted
to sketch it, but could not purchase it. The interpretation given of its
symbolism is that of the qaçàli who owned it. In the myth of
klèdji-qaçàl it is said that the beneficent god Qastcèëlçi used this
kethàwn when he removed from the prophet Co the evil spell which had
been cast on the latter by the wind god.
[Illustration:
Bureau of Ethnology
Fifth Annual Report Pl. XVIII
FOURTH DRY-PAINTING]
179. In Schoolcraft’s Archives of Aboriginal Knowledge, Philadelphia,
1860, Vol. III, page 306, is a cut illustrating an article undoubtedly
of a similar nature to that shown in Fig. 59. It is a sacrificial plume
stick of the Moki. The Moki interpreter explained to Mr. Schoolcraft
that it contained a message from the Indians to the President and the
particulars of this message are fully set forth in his text. At first I
doubted if the object could have any other purpose than a sacrificial
one and was inclined to discredit the statement of the Moki interpreter.
But on learning that the Navajo had a similar arrangement of sticks and
feathers, which was called by the significant name of keçànyalçi‘, or
talking kethàwn, I was more inclined to believe that some of these
kethàwns may answer a double purpose and be used to convey messages, or
at least serve as mnemonic aids to envoys.
180. The cac-bikeçàn (bear kethàwn) spoken of in the myth consisted of
two sticks, each a span long, one painted black (male), the other
painted blue (female). Each had red and blue bands at the ends and in
the middle. There were no feathers or beads. (Paragraph 40.)
181. The glòï-bikeçàn, or sacrifices to the weasels, were four in
number, two yellow and two white. In preparing the sticks one end was
always to be held to the north, the other towards the south. At each end
a narrow circle of red and a narrow circle of blue were painted; the red
being to the north, i.e., outside of the blue at one end and inside of
it at the other. The weasel men directed that the sticks should be
buried in the ground in the same direction in which they were held when
being made, lying from north to south with the outer red ring at the
north. (Paragraph 41.)
182. Four sticks pertained to the klictsò-bikeçàn: one was black, with
four white deer tracks painted on it; another was blue, with four yellow
deer tracks; a third was white, with four black deer tracks; the fourth
was yellow, with four blue deer tracks. The Great Serpent said to the
Navajo prophet: “There are certain moles who, when they dig in the
ground, scatter the earth in a long winding heap like the form of a
crawling snake. In such a heap of earth will you bury these kethàwns.”
(Paragraph 42.)
183. There are two sticks belonging to the kethàwn of the lightning god
(i¢nì‘-bikeçàn). One is black, with a white zigzag stripe from end to
end; the other blue, with a yellow zigzag stripe from end to end.
(Paragraph 43.)
184. The Estsàn-¢igìni, or Holy Women, showed the prophet but one
kethàwn stick. It was painted white and decorated with three pairs of
circular bands, red and blue, the blue in each case being next to the
body of the painter while he holds the stick in decorating it. This
kethàwn must be buried at the base of a young spruce tree, with the
first blue circle next to the tree. (Paragraph 45.)
185. Pour sticks were shown by the Tcikè-cac-nátlehi. They were black,
sprinkled with specular iron ore to make them shine; decorated with
three pairs of bands, red and blue, applied as in the kethàwns of the
Estsàn-¢igìni; and buried under a young piñon, with the first blue band
or circle next to the tree. (Paragraph 46.)
186. The two kethàwns seen by Dsilyi‘ Neyáni at Big Oaks, the home of
the ¢igin-yosíni, were both banded at the ends with blue and red and had
marks to symbolize the givers. One was white, with two pairs of stripes,
red and blue, running lengthwise. The other was yellow, with many
stripes of black and yellow running lengthwise. (Paragraph 49.)
187. At Last Mountain, the home of the skunks, two kethàwns, evidently
intended to symbolize these animals, were shown to the prophet and his
divine companions. Both the sticks were black: one had three white
longitudinal stripes on one side; the other had three longitudinal rows
of white spots, three spots in each row, on one side. (Paragraph 50.)
188. The two sticks shown by the squirrels, Glo‘dsilkàï and
Glo‘dsiljíni, were painted blue, sprinkled with specular iron ore, and
surrounded at the ends with red and blue bands. One was to be planted at
the base of a pine tree and one at the base of a spruce tree.
189. At Dsilyà-içín the porcupines exhibited two kethàwns. They were
very short, being equal in length to the middle joint of the little
finger. One was black and one was blue. Each had red and blue terminal
bands and each had a number of white dots on one side to represent
porcupine quills. “Bury them,” said ¢asàni, “under a piñon tree.”
(Paragraph 52.)
190. At Qo¢estò four kethàwns, rather elaborately decorated, were shown.
Two were half white and half black, the black part having white spots
and the white part having black spots on it. The other two were half
blue and half yellow, the yellow being spotted with blue and the blue
with yellow. There were red and blue rings at the ends. (Paragraph 53.)
191. The Tçikè-¢igìni showed their visitors two kethàwns, one black and
one blue. Each was a span long and was surrounded with three pairs of
bands, blue and red, put on in the manner observed in making the
kethàwns of the Estsàn-¢igìni. (Paragraph 184.) To the center of the
black kethàwn five blue feathers were tied. To the center of the blue
kethàwn five yellow feathers were fastened. Five black beads were
interred with the black stick--one tied to the center, one stuck in the
end, and three laid loose in the ground. Five blue turquoise beads were
similarly buried with the blue stick. Such kethàwns must be buried at
the foot of a spruce tree, with the heads towards the mountains of
¢epéntsa. By “head” is meant the end held the farther from the body of
the painter when the paint is applied, the end having the red band at
its extremity. (Paragraph 54.)
ORIGINAL TEXTS AND TRANSLATIONS OF SONGS, &C.
192. The songs of the dsilyídje qaçàl are very numerous and their
recitation is governed by many rules, a few of which only have been
discovered by the writer.
193. A list has been recorded of thirteen sets of songs which may
properly be sung at night in the medicine lodge, when the ceremonies of
the day are done, and in the corral on the last night, when there is no
special song in progress pertaining to a particular alili or dance. The
list which follows exhibits the order in which these songs may be sung
on any particular night. For example, if the singers begin with a song
from set III, they cannot follow immediately with a song from sets I
or II, but mast select from some of the following sets, as set IV or V.
Again, in each set the songs have a certain order of sequence which must
not be reversed. For convenience these will be called
SONGS OF SEQUENCE.
--------+-------------------+------------------------------+-----------
Order. | Indian name | English name of set. | Number in
| of set. | | each set.
--------+-------------------+------------------------------+-----------
I. | Atsátleï Bigin | Songs of the First Dancers | 16
II. | Tsintsò Bigin | Songs of the Great Stick, | 12
| | or Plumed Wand |
III. | [¢]epè Bigin | Songs of the Mountain Sheep | 12
IV. | I‘¢nì Bigin | Songs of the Lightning | 12
V. | Tsilkè-¢igìni | Songs of the Holy Young Men | 12
| Bigin | |
VI. | Tcikè-cac-nátlehi | Songs of Young | 16
| Bigin | Women Who Become Bears |
VII. | Dsilyi‘ Neyáni | Songs of Reared Within | 8
| Bigin | the Mountains |
VIII. | Tsáhagin | Awl songs | 8
IX. | Nahikï-gin | Whitening songs | 8
X. | [¢]asàni Bigin | Songs of the Porcupines | 7
XI. | Nanisè Bigin | Songs of the Plants | 8
XII. | Tsin¢ilçòï Bigin | Songs of the Exploding Stick | 26
XIII. | Yikàï-gin | Daylight songs | 16
| + +-----------
| Total | 161
--------+--------------------------------------------------+-----------
194. Besides those referred to in the above list, there are more which
are appropriate to different acts in the ceremony, such as the songs
sung at the obliteration of the pictures, at the building of the corral,
at the departure of the akáninili, &c.
195. In some cases a number of songs in the same set are nearly alike;
the addition or substitution of one verse, or even of one word, may be
the only difference. Such songs usually follow one another in immediate
succession; often, on the other hand, we find a great variety in subject
and in style.
196. Some songs are self-explanatory or readily understood, but the
greater number cannot be comprehended without a full knowledge of the
mythology and of the symbolism to which they refer; they merely hint at
mythic conceptions. Many contain archaic expressions, for which the
shaman can assign a meaning, but whose etymology cannot now be learned;
and some embody obsolete words whose meaning is lost even to the
priesthood. There are many vocables known to be meaningless and recited
merely to fill out the rhythm or to give a dignified length to the song.
For the same reasons a meaningless syllable is often added or a
significant syllable duplicated.
197. Other poetical licenses are taken, such as the omission of a
syllable, the change of accent, the substitution of one vowel for
another. The most familiar words are often distorted beyond recognition.
For these various reasons the task of noting and translating these songs
is one of considerable difficulty.
198. FIRST SONG OF THE FIRST DANCERS.
[See Transcriber’s Supplement at the end of the text, between the
Index and the Errata, for alternative spelling.]
Qaniè qaò yaè, qaniè qaò yaè
Qaniè iè oayè oayè.
1. Qadjinäìa qaò yaè,
2. Kaç dsil ¢ilhyíli qaò yaè,
3. ‘Çaltsoï tsèë qaò yaè,
4. Cija cigèlgo qaò yaè.
Náhi ìni èhi oayè, náhi ini èhi oöhè.
5. Niqoyastcàdje qaò yaè,
6. Kaç dsil çolíji qaò yaè,
7. Kini bitsèë qaò yaè,
8. Cija cigèlgo qaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
9. Qadjinäìa qaò yaè,
10. Kaç dsil litsòï qaò yaè,
11. Bitselitsòï qaò yaè,
12. Cija cigèlgo qaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
13. Niqoyastcàdje qaò yaè,
14. Kaç dsil lakàie qaò yaè,
15. A‘a‘i tsèe qaò yaè,
16. Cija cigèlgo qaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
199. _Translation._--1, 9. Qadjinàï, “Place-where-they-came-up,”
a locality in the San Juan Mountains where, according to their
mythology, the Navajo emerged from the lower world to this. 5, 13.
Niqoyastcàdje, another name for Qadjinàï. 2, 6, 10, 14. Kaç, now; dsil,
mountain; ¢ilhyíli, black; çolíji, blue; litsòï, yellow; lakàie, white.
These verses refer to four mountains surrounding Qadjinàï, which are
designated by colors only to indicate their topographical positions.
3, 7, 11, 15. ‘Çaltsoï = aça litsòï, “yellow wing,” a large bird of
prey; kini, hen hawk; bitselitsòï, “yellow tail,” a bird of undetermined
species; a‘a‘i, magpie; tse, a tail; bitse, its tail. 4, 8, 12, 16.
Cija, my treasure; cigèl, my desideratum, my ultimatum, the only thing I
will accept. When supposed to be said by a god, as in this song, it
means the particular sacrifice which is appropriate to him. In this case
probably the feathers spoken of are “cigèl” and the mountains “cija.”
The refrain “qaò yaè” is a poetic modification of qaa‘, it looms up, or
sticks up, said of some lofty object visible in the distance, whose base
cannot be seen.
200. _Free translation._
Place-whence-they-came-up looms up,
Now the black mountain looms up,
The tail of the “yellow wing” looms up,
My treasure, my sacrifice, loom up.
Land-where-they-moved-out looms up,
Now the blue mountain looms up,
The tail of the hen-hawk looms up,
My treasure, my sacrifice, loom up.
Place-whence-they-came-up looms up,
Now the yellow mountain looms up,
The tail that is yellow looms up,
My treasure, my sacrifice, loom up.
Land-where-they-moved-out looms up,
Now the white mountain looms up,
The tail of the magpie looms up,
My treasure, my sacrifice, loom up.
201. FIRST SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN SHEEP.
1. Yìki ¢asizìni,
2. Kaç Tsilkè-¢igìni,
3. Kaç kátso-yisçàni,
4. Tsí¢a baälìli,
5. Bíja-ye¢igíngo.
6. Kaç Tcikè ¢igìni,
7. Kátsoye yisçàni,
8. Yìki ¢asizìni,
9. Tsí¢a baälìli,
10. Bíja-ye¢igíngo.
202. _Translation._--1, 8. Yìki, upon it; ¢asizin, he stands on high.
2, 6. Kaç, now; tsilkè, young man; tcikè, young woman; ¢igìni, holy.
3. Kátso-yisçàn, the great plumed arrow; kátsoye yisçàn, with the great
plumed arrow. 4, 9. Tsí¢a, truly, verily; baälìli, an alili, a show,
a rite, or implement used in a dance for him. 5, 10. Bíja, his treasure,
his special property, his peculiar belonging; ye, with, a prefix forming
nouns which denote the means; ¢igíngo, positively holy or supernatural.
Bíja-ye¢igíngo might be translated “charm” or “talisman.”
203. _Free translation._
He stands high upon it;
Now the Holy Young Man [Young Woman, in second stanza],
With the great plumed arrow,
Verily his own sacred implement,
His treasure, by virtue of which he is truly holy.
204. A reference to the myth, and the description of the ceremonies will
probably be sufficient to give the reader an understanding of this song.
This set of songs, it is said, was first sung by the black sheep which
stood on the rock as a sign to the Navajo fugitive; hence the name. (See
paragraphs 35, 47, 48, 54.)
205. SIXTH SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN SHEEP.
Binaçoöláe [four times] oäyèhe oöhè.
1. Kaç Tsilkè-¢igìni,
2. Ca‘bitlòli yèë,
3. Tsí¢a bialìli,
4. Bíja ye¢igíngo,
5. Binaçoöláe oäyèhe oöhè.
6. Kaç Tcikè-¢igìni,
7. Natsilíçi yèë,
8. Tsí¢a bialìli,
9. Bíja ye¢igíngo,
10. Binaçoöláe oäyèhe oöhè.
206. _Translation._--1, 6. Kaç, now; tsilkè, young man; tcikè, young
woman; ¢igìni holy one, god or goddess. 2. Ca‘bitlòl, sunbeam, sunbeams;
ye, with. 3, 8. Tsi¢a, verily; bialìli (paragraph 3), his dance or
sacred implement. 4, 9. Bíja, his special property, his treasure;
ye¢igíngo, that by means of which he is ¢igín, i.e., holy or
supernatural. 5, 10. Binaçòla, it is encircled. 7. Natsiliç, the
rainbow.
207. _Free translation._
Now the Holy Young Man,
With the sunbeam,
Verily his own sacred implement,
His treasure which makes him holy,
Is encircled.
Now the Holy Young Woman,
With the rainbow,
Verily her own sacred implement,
Her treasure which makes her holy,
Is encircled.
208. Which is to say that the great plumed arrows which they bear are
adorned with sunbeams and rainbows. They “shine in glory.” (See
references in paragraph 204)
209. TWELFTH SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN SHEEP.
1. Nayunáni tcènia,
2. Kaç biçèïltsos tcènia,
3. Biqolçègo, tcènia.
4. Nayunáni tcènia,
5. Kaç biçènackòji tcènia,
6. Biqolçègo, tcènia.
210. _Translation._--1, 4. Nayunáni, again on the other side, i.e.,
across two valleys. 2. Biçè, his horns; iltsos, slender; biçèïltsos,
slender horns, i.e., the deer, by metonomy. 3, 6. Biqolçègo, it is
becoming to him. 5. Biçè, his horns; nackòj, turgid, filled out,
stuffed; biçènackòji, turgid horns--metonymically, the mountain sheep,
_Ovis montana_. The refrain, tcènia, he appears, he comes in sight.
211. _Free translation._
Far beyond he appears;
Now “Slender Horn” appears.
His antlers are becoming. He appears.
Far beyond he appears;
Now “Turgid Horn” appears.
His horns are becoming. He appears.
212. This song, it is said, refers to the time when the prophet saw the
vision of the black sheep on the rock. (Paragraph 35.) The reason for
introducing the deer into the song is not obvious.
213. FIRST SONG OF THE THUNDER.
1. Çòna! Çòna! A‘āīyèhe oöhè [repeat],
2. Yùçakoö ani‘;
3. I‘¢ni‘djië ani‘;
4. Kos ¢ilhyíl biyì‘dje,
5. Nabizàç qolègo,
6. Çòna! Çòna! A‘āīyèhe oöhè
7. Çòna! Çòna! A‘āīyèhe oöhè [repeat],
8. Yùyakoö ani‘;
9. Anilçàni ani‘;
10. Nánise bicqàko,
11. Nabizaç qolègo,
12. Çòna! Çòna! A‘āīyèhe oöhè.
214. _Translation._--1, 6, 7, 12. Çòna, an imitation of the thunder, not
a word. 2, 8. Yùçako, above; yùyako, below; ani‘, any sound, the sound
of the voice. 3. I‘¢ni‘dji pertaining to the thunder. 4. Kos, cloud;
¢ilhyíl, black, dark; biyì‘dje, within, or toward within it. 5, 11.
Nabizaç qolègo, again and again sounds his moving voice. 9. Anilçàni,
a general name for large meadow grasshoppers. 10. Nánise, plants in
general; biçqàko, in among them.
215. _Free translation._
Thonah! Thonah!
There is a voice above,
The voice of the thunder.
Within the dark cloud,
Again and again it sounds,
Thonah! Thonah!
Thonah! Thonah!
There is a voice below,
The voice of the grasshopper.
Among the plants,
Again and again it sounds,
Thonah! Thonah!
216. TWELFTH SONG OF THE THUNDER.
Aïena.
Beqojònigo ani‘i [four times] oöhè.
1. Yùçakoö ani‘i;
2. I‘¢ni‘djië ani‘i;
3. Kos ¢ilhyíl biyì‘dje,
4. Nàbizaç qolègo,
5. Beqojònigo ani‘i, oöhè.
6. Yùyakoö ani‘i;
7. Anilçàni ani‘i;
8. Nánise biçqàko,
9. Nàbizaç qolègo,
10. Beqojònigo ani‘i, oöhè.
217. _Translation._--Aïena, a meaningless beginning to many songs, which
may be omitted. 1. Yùçako, above. 2. I‘¢ni‘dji, pertaining to the
thunder. 3. Kos, cloud; ¢ilhyíl, dark; biyì‘dje, within it. 4, 9.
Nàbizaç, his voice again, his voice repeated; qolègo, sounds along,
sounds moving. 5, 10. (Be, a prefix forming nouns of the cause or
instrument; qojòni, local or terrestrial beauty; go, a suffix to
qualifying words); beqojònigo, productive of terrestrial beauty; ani‘,
a voice, a sound. 6. Yùyako, below. 7. Anilçani, grasshopper. 8. Nánise,
plants; biçqàko, in among them.
218. _Free translation._
The voice that beautifies the land!
The voice above,
The voice of the thunder
Within the dark cloud
Again and again it sounds,
The voice that beautifies the land.
The voice that beautifies the land!
The voice below;
The voice of the grasshopper
Among the plants
Again and again it sounds,
The voice that beautifies the land.
219. FIRST SONG OF THE HOLY YOUNG MEN, OR YOUNG MEN GODS.
1. Oöc ‘çqa nagāīë,
2. Kaç Tsilkè-¢igìni,
3. Dsil ¢ilhyíl biyàgi,
4. Biyàji naïlè.
5. Aie ‘çqa nagāīë,
6. Kaç Tcikè-¢igini,
7. Dsil çolíj biyàgi,
8. Biyàji naïlè.
220. _Translation._--1, 5. ‘Çqa = biçqa, amid or among them; nagai,
that, there. 2. Kaç, now; Tsilkè-¢igìni, Holy Young Man; Tcikè-¢igìni,
Holy Young Woman. 3, 7. Dsil, mountain; ¢ilhyíl, black; çolíj, blue;
biyàgi, at the foot of, at the base of. 4, 8. Biyàji, his child; naïlè,
he lays down, he leaves.
221. _Free translation._
There amid [the mountains],
Now the Holy Young Man,
At the foot of the black mountain,
Lays down his child.
There amid [the mountains],
Now the Holy Young Woman,
At the foot of the blue mountain,
Lays down her child.
222. The characters of Tsilkè-¢igìni and Tcikè-¢igìni are in the myth.
The black mountain, pertains to the male, the blue to the female.
Although not told with the rest of the myth, it was subsequently related
to the writer that Tsilkè-¢igìni said to the prophet, “Whoever learns
our songs will thenceforth be our child.” The above song, it is said,
has some reference to this promise; but a fuller explanation, no doubt,
remains to be discovered.
223. SIXTH SONG OF THE HOLY YOUNG MEN.
Aïena.
Altsàcië ¢igìni oöhè.
1. Altsàcië ¢igìni, altsàcië ¢igìni, altsàcië ¢igìni oöhè.
2. Kaç Tsilkè-¢igìni, bakàgië ¢igìni,
3. Dsil ¢ilhyíli eä, bakàgië ¢igìni,
4. Tsintsoï ¢ilhyíli eä bakàgië ¢igìni,
5. Tsí¢a bialìli, bíja ye¢igíngo, bakàgië ¢igìni, oöhè.
Altsàcië ¢igìni oöhè.
6. Altsàcië ¢igìni, altsàcië ¢igìni, altsàcië ¢igìni oöhè.
7. Kaç Tcikè-¢igìni, bakàgië ¢igìni,
8. Dsil çolíji cë, bakàgië ¢igìni,
9. Tsintsoï çolíji, bakàgië ¢igìni,
10. Tsí¢a bialìli, bíja ye¢igíngo, bakàgië ¢igìni, oöhè.
224. _Translation._-- 1, 6. Altsàcië, on each side; ¢igìni, a holy one,
a god. 2, 7. Kaç, now; tsilkè, young man; tcikè, young woman; bakàgi, on
the summit, on top of it. 3, 8. Dsil, mountain; ¢ilhyíl, dark, black;
çolíji, blue. 4, 9. Tsintsoï, great stick, a notched stick used as a
musical instrument in the dance. 5, 10. Tsí¢a bialìli, truly his dance
implement; bíja ye¢igíngo, his holy treasure, his talisman, his charm,
his magic wand.
225. _Free translation._
There’s a god on each side.
Now the Holy Young Man
Is the god on top of the black mountain,
With his black notched stick,
The implement of his dance, his magic wand.
There’s a god on each side.
Now the Holy Young Woman
Is the god on top of the blue mountain,
With her blue notched stick,
The implement of her dance, her magic wand.
226. This song is said to refer to that part of the myth where it is
related that the prophet, flying from the Ute, climbed a hill which was
transformed into a mountain. (Paragraph 38.) Each mountain was supposed
to have a holy one on it, who could, by means of his notched stick,
produce the metamorphosis. The mountains were not necessarily colored
black and blue, but are thus described to indicate that they lay north
and south of the prophet’s path. (Paragraph 171.)
227. TWELFTH SONG OF THE HOLY YOUNG MEN.
Eāīèa qàla éla yaináhe, oöhè.
Eāīèa qàla éla yainooò yaaà yooò [three times],
Eāīèa qàla éla yainà, qàla èla qainàhe oöhè.
1. Dsil ilhyíli inlòooò yaaà yooò,
2. Tsintsoï ¢ilhyíli inlòooò yaaà yeeè.
3. Ci cigèlgo yainà,
Qala éla qainàhe oöhè.
4. Dsil çolíji inlòooò yaaà yooò,
5. Tsintsoï ¢ilhyíli inlòooò yaaà yeeè,
6. Ci cigèlgo yainà,
Qala éla qainàhe oöhè.
228. _Translation._--1, 4. Dsil, mountain; çilhyíl, black; çolíj, blue.
2, 5. Tsintsò, a notched stick used in ceremonies to make music; inlo
(inla‘), they lie there (two long hard things lie). 3, 6. Cigèl, my
ultimatum, my desideratum (said of the peculiar sacrifice which belongs
to each god), something I (the god) will have and accept nothing in
place of it, my special sacrifice.
229. _Free translation._
There lie the black mountains;
There lie the black sticks;
There lie my sacrifices.
There lie the blue mountains;
There lie the blue sticks;
There lie my sacrifices.
230. This is supposed to be a part of the instructions which the Holy
Young Men and Holy Young Women gave to the prophet. The tsintso is made
of cherry, which grows only on high mountains in the Navajo country. The
sticks are painted black and blue. (See paragraph 171.) The song alludes
to all these facts.
231. EIGHTH SONG OF THE YOUNG WOMEN WHO BECOME BEARS.
Ço¢igìni¢a oyàhe, oöhè,
Ço¢igìni¢a oyà oyà ooyàya
Hāīyàya hāīyàya hāīyàhe, oöhè.
1. Kaç Tsilkè-¢igìnië ço¢igìn¢a hāīyàhe, oöhè,
2. Bitsintsòië ië ço¢igìn¢a hāīyàhe oöhe,
3. Tsí¢a bialìlië bíja-ye¢igìnië, oyà oyà, oyàya,
Hāīyàya hāīyàya hāīyàhe, oöhè.
Ço¢igìni¢a oyàhe, oöhè,
Ço¢igìni¢a oyà oyà ooyàya,
Hāīyàya hāīyàya hāīyàhe, oöhè.
4. Kaç Tcikè-¢igìnië ço¢igìn¢a hāīyàhe, oöhè,
5. Bitsintsòië ië ço¢igin¢a hāīyàhe oöhè,
6. Tsí¢a bialìlië bíja-ye¢igìnië, oyà oyà, oyàya,
Hāīyàya hāīyàya hāīyàhe, oöhè.
232. _Translation._-- Ço¢igìni¢a, ço¢igìni¢a, he is not a god; it is not
holy; it is not divine. 1, 4. Kaç, now; tsilkè, young man; tcikè, young
woman; ¢igìni, holy, supernatural. 2, 4. Bitsintsòi, his great notched
stick. 3, 6. Tsí¢a, verily; bialìli, his implement of the dance or rite;
bíja-ye¢igìni, his treasure which makes holy; his magic wand.
233. _Free translation._
The Holy Young Man is not divine;
His great notched stick is not holy;
His magic wand is not holy.
The Holy Young Woman is not divine;
Her great notched stick is not holy;
Her magic wand is not holy.
234. This is supposed to refer to an altercation between these two gods,
in which they tried to belittle each other.
235. I have another song of this series, in which the idea is conveyed
that their powers depend on their magic wands or notched sticks.
236. ONE OF THE AWL SONGS.
Òwe òwe òwe yàni yàï owàⁿ na a [repeat three times],
Òwe òwe ìni áhe oöhè.
1. ‘Ke-cac-natlèhi natcagàhi,
2. Kaç dsil ¢ilhyíli bakàgi natcagàhi,
3. Kaç ni‘ inzàç inçì çoholnì¢a òna,
4. Kaç ni‘ inzàç inçì çoniò¢a òna.
5. Tcikè-¢igìni natcagàhi,
6. Dsil çolíji bakàgi natcagàhi,
7. Kaç ni‘ inzàç inçì, çoholnì¢a òna,
8. Kaç ni‘ inzàç inçì, çoniò¢a òna.
237. _Translation._--1. Ke, an abbreviation of tcikè; Tcikè-cac-natlèhi,
maiden who becomes a bear; natcagà‘, she travels far, she walks or
wanders far around. 2. Kaç, now; dsil ¢ilhyíl, black mountain; bakàgi,
on top of. 3, 4, 7, 8. Ni‘, earth, land; inzàç, distant; inçì, it lies,
it stretches; çoholnì¢a, seems not to be; çoniò¢a, not obscure or dim
like a faint distance. 6. Dsil çolíji bakàgi, on top of the blue
mountains.
238. _Free translation._
The Maid Who Becomes a Bear walks far around
On the black mountains, she walks far around.
Far spreads the land. It seems not far [to her].
Far spreads the land. It seems not dim [to her].
The Holy Young Woman walks far around
On the blue mountains, she walks far around.
Far spreads the land. It seems not far [to her].
Far spreads the land. It seems not dim [to her].
239. FIRST SONG OF THE EXPLODING STICK.
Aïena.
Aïeyà āīa aïeya iè eè ieèe [three times] ië laⁿ.
1. ‘Ke-cac-nátlèhi dsilyi‘ ¢i¢ílkoⁿ ië naⁿ,
2. Dsilyi‘ ¢olkòlkoⁿ; dsil bekoⁿnìçe ië naⁿ,
Ië naⁿ yahà hāīà ië naⁿ aï.
3. Çabasçìni ço‘yi‘ ¢i¢ílkoⁿ ië naⁿ,
4. Ço‘yi ¢olkòlkoⁿ; ço‘bekoⁿnìçe ië naⁿ,
Ië naⁿ yahà hāīà ië naⁿ aï.
240. _Translation._--1, 3. ‘Ke-cac-natlèhi = Tcikè-cac-nátlehi, Young
Woman Who Becomes a Bear; Çabasçin, the Otter; ¢i¢ílkoⁿ, he or she set
on fire in many places. 2, 4. Dsil, mountains; dsilyi‘, in the
mountains; ço‘, water, waters; ço‘yi‘, in the waters; ¢olkolkoⁿ, he set
on fire as he went along; bekoⁿnìçe, its fires in a line, its string of
fires.
241. _Free translation._
Young Woman Who Becomes a Bear set fire in the mountains
In many places; as she journeyed on
There was a line of burning mountains.
The Otter set fire in the waters
In many places; as he journeyed on
There was a line of burning waters.
242. It is related that in the ancient days, during a year of great
drought, these holy ones, on their way to a council of the gods, set
fire to the mountains and the waters. The smoke arose in great clouds,
from which rain descended on the parched land. The song alludes to this
legend.
243. LAST SONG OF THE EXPLODING STICK.
Hiè ieeè naāīà āīà i a ai aⁿ aⁿ [twice] ie.
1. Tcikè-cac-nátlehië ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
2. Dsil aga ¢azàgië ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
3. Tsí¢a ci cigèliye ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
4. Yàne ¢oölànegoö ¢isitsaàye.
Hiè ieeè naāīà, etc.
5. Kaç Tcikè-¢igìni ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
6. Kos aga ¢azàgië ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
7. Tsí¢a ci cigèliye ¢igìni qayikàlgo; bàniya āīè.
8. Yàne ¢oölànegoö ¢isitsaàye.
Hiè ieeè naāīà, etc.
244. _Translation._--1, 5. Tcikè-cac-nátlehi, Young Woman Who Becomes a
Bear; Tcikè- ¢igìni, Holy Young Woman, or young woman goddess; ¢igìni
qayikàl, she journeyed seeking the gods; bàniya, she found them, she met
them. 2, 6. Dsil, mountains; kos, clouds; aga, peak, summit; ¢azà‘, many
pointing upwards; (dsil aga ¢azàgi, on many mountain peaks). 3, 7.
Tsí¢a, truly or true; cigèl, my desideratum, my special sacrifice. 4, 8.
[¢]oölàne = ¢oölà¢a, some one does not believe it; ¢isitsà, I have
heard; yàne and other vocables are meaningless.
245. _Free translation._
Maid Who Becomes a Bear sought the gods and found them;
On the high mountain peaks she sought the gods and found them;
Truly with my sacrifice she sought the gods and found them.
Somebody doubts it, so I have heard.
Holy Young Woman sought the gods and found them;
On the summits of the clouds she sought the gods and found them;
Truly with my sacrifice she sought the gods and found them.
Somebody doubts it, so I have heard.
246. These songs are accompanied, in beating the drum, with a peculiar
sharp strike like a sudden outburst or explosion. Hence, they say, the
name, Tsin¢ilçòï Bigin.
247. FIRST DAYLIGHT SONG.
Çahiz¢ìle, çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ [four times].
1. Kaç Yikāī-acikè çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
2. Qaïyolkal¢e çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
3. Bitsídje yolkàlgo çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
4. Bikèc¢e yolkàlgo çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ.
5. Bitsídje qojògo çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
6. Bikèc¢e qojògo çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
7. Bizàç¢e qojògo çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
Çahiz¢ìle, çahiz¢ìle, etc.
8. Kaç yikāī-açèç, çahiz¢ìle, ya ahāīà laⁿ,
9. Naqotsòï¢e çahiz¢ile, ya ahāīà laⁿ.
[Verses 3 to 7 are here repeated.]
Çahiz¢ile, çahiz¢ile, etc.
248. _Translation._--Çahiz¢ile = çahiz¢el, it hangs as a curtain or
festoon; it hangs supported at both ends, i.e., the white curtain of
dawn so hangs. 1. Yikāī-acikè, the Daylight Boy, the Navajo dawn god.
2. Qayolkàl¢e, from the place of dawn. 3. Bitsídje, before him;
yolkàlgo, as it dawns, as the night passes away. 4. Bikèc¢e, from behind
him. Qojògo, in a beautiful (earthly) manner. 7. Bizàç¢e, from his
voice. 8. Yikāī-açèç, the Daylight Girl--the dawn goddess.
9. Naqotsòï¢e, from the land of yellow light (horizontal terrestrial
yellow).
249. _Free translation._
The curtain of daybreak is hanging
The Daylight Boy (it is hanging),
From the land of the day it is hanging;
Before him, as it dawns, it is hanging;
Behind him, as it dawns, it is hanging.
Before him, in beauty, it is hanging;
Behind him, in beauty, it is hanging;
From his voice, in beauty, it is hanging.
The Daylight Girl (it is hanging),
From the land of yellow light, it is hanging, &c.
(substituting her for him and his).
250. LAST DAYLIGHT SONG.
Loleyèe, Loleyèe. Loleyèe, Loleyèe.
Loleyèe, Loleyèe. Yahāièe qanaāī.
1. Qayolkàgo, Loleyèe.
2. Kaç Yikāī-acikèe. Loleyèe.
Loleyèe, Loleyèe. Yahāīee, qanaāī.
3. Kaç a¢a yiskàgo. Loleyèe.
4. Kaç Yikāī-açèçe. Loleyèe.
Loleyèe, Loleyèe. Yahāīee, qanaāī.
251. _Translation._--1. Qayolkàgo, in the place of dawn. 2, 4.
Yikāī-acikè and Yikāī-açèç, Daylight Boy and Daylight Girl (see
paragraph 248). 3. A¢a yiskàgo, it is day all around. Refrain, loleyè,
lullaby, a meaningless expression to indicate sleepiness.
252. _Free translation._
Lullaby, lullaby.
It is daybreak. Lullaby.
Now comes the Daylight Boy. Lullaby.
Now it is day. Lullaby.
Now comes the Daylight Girl. Lullaby.
253. As the daylight songs are sung just at dawn, in the corral, before
the dance ceases, their significance is apparent.
OTHER SONGS AND EXTRACTS.
254. SONG OF THE PROPHET TO THE SAN JUAN RIVER.
Aïena.
1. Nagāī çonilínië, nagāī çonilínië,
2. Biçhyísgo cinì‘ ¢eyà‘
Haïniyèa, haïniyèa, āīèe niò haïne-yàhe, oöhè.
3. Nagāī çointyèlië, nagāī çonilínië,
4. Biçhyísgo cinì‘ ¢eyà‘ Haïniyèa, etc.
5. Nagāī saⁿ biçòië, nagāī çonilínië,
6. Biçhyísgo cinì‘ ¢eyà‘
Haïniyèa, etc.
255. _Translation._--1. Nagāī that; çonilíni, flowing water, a river.
2, 4, 6. Biçhyísgo, across it; cinì‘, my mind; ¢eyà‘, it goes, or, it
comes, it wanders to or from. 3. Çointyèli, broad water. 5. Saⁿ biço,
water of old age.
256. For origin and free translation of this song, see paragraph 22.
257. SONG OF THE BUILDING OF THE DARK CIRCLE.
Oeà oeà, eà eà, he he;
Oeà oeà, eà eeà, he he, ee naⁿ a.
1. Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, cayolèli cayolèli;
2. Tcoyaj ¢ilhyíli, cayolèli cayolèli;
3. Tsíca alìli, cayolèli cayolèli;
4. Bija ¢igíngo, cayolèli cayolèli.
5. Tcikè-¢igìni, cayolèli cayolèli;
6. Tcoyaj çolíji, cayolèli cayolèli;
7. Tsí¢a alìli, cayolèli cayolèli;
8. Bíja ¢igíngo, cayolèli cayolèli.
258. _Translation._--1. Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, Reared Within the Mountains, the
prophet who instituted these ceremonies; cayolèli, he carries [something
long and flexible, as a branch or sapling] for me. 2, 6. Tcoyaj,
a spruce sapling, diminutive of tco, spruce; ¢ilhyíl, black; çolíj,
blue. 3, 7. Tsí¢a alìli (usually tsí¢a bialìli), truly a dance
implement. 4, 8. Bíja ¢igíngo (usually bíja-ye¢igíngo), a holy treasure,
a magic wand.
259. _Free translation._
Reared Within the Mountains carries for me;
A black spruce sapling, he carries for me;
An implement of the rites, he carries for me;
A holy treasure, he carries for me.
The Holy Young Woman carries for me;
A blue spruce sapling, she carries for me;
An implement of the rites, she carries for me;
A holy treasure, she carries for me.
260. The evergreen poles used in the dance and in making “the dark
circles,” to both of which this song probably refers, were, in all cases
where I have observed them, made of piñon and not of spruce; but all
dances I have witnessed were at altitudes of about six thousand feet,
where piñon was abundant and spruce rare. In those portions of the
Navajo country with which I am familiar the spruce (_Pseudotsuga
douglassii_) grows plentifully at the height of eight thousand feet,
sparsely below that. There is good reason for believing that the spruce
is the true sacred tree of these rites and that the piñon is only a
convenient substitute. The song is called Ilnásjin Beniçà, “that with
which the dark circle is built.” It is sung by the shaman at the eastern
gate, while the young men are building the corral. (Paragraph 124.) I
have other slightly different versions of it, probably suitable for
different occasions. The form given above is recited, under ordinary
circumstances, when the patient is a woman.
261. PRAYER TO DSILYI‘ NEYÁNI.
1. Dsilyi‘ Neyáni!
2. Dsil banaçà!
3. Tsilkè!
4. Naçàni!
5. Nigèl icla‘.
6. Na¢è hila‘.
7. Cikè caä¢ilil.
8. Citcàç eaä¢ilil.
9. Citsès eaä¢ilil.
10. Cinì‘ eaä¢ilil,
11. Cinè eaä¢ilil.
12. Qojògo qa¢àlçe aci¢ilil.
13. Citsídje qojolel.
14. Cikè¢e qojolel.
15. Cizàç qaqojolel.
16. Qojòni qaslè,
17. Qojòni qaslè,
18. Qojòni qaslè,
19. Qojòni qaslè.
262. _Translation._--1. The name of the prophet. 2. Dsil, mountains,
banaçà, chief (or master) for them. 3. Tsilkè, young man. 4. Naçàni,
chieftain. 5. Nigèl, your peculiar sacrifice, i.e., the keçàn; icla‘,
I have made. 6. Na¢è, a smoke, i.e., the cigarettes (paragraph 87), for
you; hila‘, is made. 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. Cikè, my feet; citcàç, my lower
extremities; citsès, my body; cinì‘, my mind; cinè, my voice; eaä¢ilil,
for me restore (as it was before) thou wilt. 12. Qojògo, in a beautiful
manner; qa¢àlçe, repaired, mended; aci¢ilil, restore me thou wilt. 13,
14. Citsídje, in the direction before me; cikè¢e, from behind me;
qojolel, wilt thou terrestrially beautify. 15. Cizàç, my words;
qaqojolel, wilt thou personally beautify. 16, 17, 18, 19. Qojòni, in
earthly beauty; qaslè, it is made, it is done.
263. In other prayers, closely resembling this in form, the shaman adds:
“Beautify all that is above me. Beautify all that is below me. Beautify
all things around me.”
264. The division into verses is that of the chanter. He pronounces the
name in the first line; the patient repeats it after him. Then he gives
out the words in the second line, and so on. For free translation, see
paragraph 88.
265. SONG OF THE RISING SUN DANCE.
Oöniyàye, oöniyàye oöniyàhe yáhe yáhe heyiyoè [twice].
1. Qanaïçác¢e
2. Tsilkè-çigìni
3. Kátso-yisçàni
4. Yìyolnakòe
5. Qano qakòsko.
6. Tcihanoāīe
7. Akos nisínle.
Yáhe, yáhe eïa āī.
Oöniyàye, etc.
8. Inaïçác¢e
9. Tcikè-çigìni
10. Awètsal-yisçàni
11. Yìyolnakòe
12. Qana qokòsko.
13. Klehanoāīe
14. Akos nisínle.
Yáhe, yáhe eïa āī.
266. _Translation._--1. Qanaïçác¢e, from where it (the sun) rises.
2. Tsilkè-¢igìni, Holy Young Man. 3. Kátso-yisçàni, the great plumed
arrow. 4, 11. Yiyolna‘, he swallowed slowly or continuously. 5, 12. Qano
qakòsko, it comes out by degrees. 6. Tcihanoāī, the sun. 7, 14. Akos
nisín, he is satisfied. 8. Inaïçác¢e, from where it sets.
9. Tcikè-¢igìni, Holy Young Woman. 10. Awètsal-yisçàni, prepared or
plumed cliff rose, i.e., cliff rose arrow. 13. Klehanoāīe, the moon.
267. _Free translation._
Where the sun rises,
The Holy Young Man
The great plumed arrow
Has swallowed
And withdrawn it.
The sun
Is satisfied.
Where the sun sets,
The Holy Young Woman
The cliff rose arrow
Has swallowed
And withdrawn it.
The moon
Is satisfied.
268. This song is sung during the dance or alil described in
paragraph 142. The conception of the poet seems to be that, the dance of
the great plumed arrow having been properly performed, the sun should be
satisfied and willing to do the bidding of the dancers, i.e., rise when
desired, on the pole.
269. INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO THE AKÁNINILI.
1. Çi‘ betcána nilìⁿlel.
2. Çi‘ ¢a‘naniltyèl¢o.
3. Çi‘ beniqo¢ílsinlel. Aïbinìgi nizè ¢ela‘.
4. [¢]a‘yiltsísgo, ¢a‘bokògo tse‘na akàn hyis¢inìle.
5. Tsiⁿ etlol akàn bàçhyis hyis¢inìle; ako bàçhyis hyis¢ilçále.
6. Tse‘ elkàgi akàn hyis¢inìle.
7. Akoï kátso-yisçàn; aïbinigi djoçile, qoi¢igín¢e behoèqoi¢ilsin.
270. _Translation._--1. Çi‘, this; betcána, a thing to rise with (as you
progress); nilìⁿlel, will make for you. 2. Çi‘, this; ¢a‘naniltyèl¢o,
will carry you along anywhere. 3. Beniqo¢ílsinlel, by means of it people
will know you; aïbinìgi, for this reason, or purpose; nizè, your neck;
¢ela‘, it hangs (once) around. 4. [¢]a‘yiltsísgo, at any little valley
(yiltsis, a little valley); ¢a‘bokògo, at any gully or arroyo (boko‘,
arroyo); tse‘na, across; akàn, meal; hyis¢inìle, he sprinkles always
across. 5. Tsiⁿ etlol, the root of a tree; akàn, meal; bàçhyis, across
it; hyis¢inìle, he sprinkles across; ako, then; hyis¢ilçále, he steps
across. 6. Tse‘ elkàgi, on flat rocks; akàn, meal; hyis¢inìle, he
sprinkles across. 7. Akoï, then, next; kátso-yisçàn, the great prepared
arrow--so says the chanter, but he really refers to the in¢ia‘, or
çobolçà, the plumed wand which akáninili carries; aïbinigi, for this
purpose; djoçile, he carries it (in the hand); qoi¢igín¢e, from a holy
place (¢igin, holy); behoèqoi¢ilsin, by means of it people know him.
271. For free translation, see paragraph 102.
272. PRAYER OF THE PROPHET TO HIS MASK.
1. [¢]a‘andje qahasdsìgo ançèlini, cilìⁿ.
2. Hyininàleni, cilìⁿ.
3. Ayàⁿ¢aⁿ çocisyi‘go¢olèl¢a, cilìⁿ.
4. Caï¢inilìl.
273. _Translation._--1. [¢]a‘andje, at any time to you; qahasdsìgo, when
I spoke; ançèlini, always you made or did it, i.e., granted my request
or assisted me; cilìⁿ, my domestic animal, my pet. 2. Hyininàleni, you
were alive (once); cilìⁿ, my pet. 3. Ayàⁿ¢aⁿ, be sure, take care; ço¢a,
negative; cisyi‘go, that I die; ¢olèl, I desire, I beg (the divided
negative makes one word of the sentence). 4. Caï¢inilìl, watch thou for
me, or over me.
274. For free translation, see paragraph 27.
275. LAST WORDS OF THE PROPHET.
1. Aqalàni, citsíli.
2. Cakaïlçe ye qo¢igín¢e.
3. [¢]a‘çonasi¢ilsèl¢a.
4. [¢]a‘hoelçìgo ¢a‘¢eltcílgo, nagāīga cinàï anìla dsinisínle,
5. [¢]a‘no‘çílgo ayàc in¢i¢alàgo, anilçàni in¢i¢alàgo nagāīga
cinàï binibikègola‘ dsinisínle.
276. _Translation._--1. Aqalàni, greeting (farewell, in this case);
citsíli, my younger brother. 2. Cakaïlçe, for me they have come; ye, the
yays, the gods; qo¢igín¢e, from a holy or supernatural place. 3. (¢a‘,
any, on any occasion, etc.; ço¢a, negative; na, again; si¢ilsèl, you
will see me); ¢a‘çonasi¢ilsèl¢a, you will never see me again.
4. [¢]a‘hoelçìgo, on any occasion as the rain passes, i.e., whenever it
rains; ¢a‘¢eltcílgo, whenever it thunders; nagāīga, in that; cinàï, my
elder brother; anìla, is his voice; dsinisínle, you will think so.
5. [¢]a‘no‘çílgo, whenever they (crops) are ripening, i.e., in harvest
time; ayàc, small birds; in¢i¢alàgo, of all kinds; anilçàni,
grasshoppers; nagāīga, in that, in those; cinàï, my elder brother;
binibikègola‘, is his ordering, his design (the trail of his mind);
dsinisínle, so you will think.
277. For free translation, see paragraph 79.
INDEX
[Transcriber’s Note:
As in the Table of Contents, paragraph numbers for each Index entry
have been added in {braces}.]
Akáninili, the supernatural couriers 411-414 {61-68}, 415 {72},
417 {101}, 424 {101},
426 {104}, 466 {269}
Chanter, Navajo 385-387 {1-8}
Dsilyídje qaçàl, origin of myth of 387-417 {9-80}
ceremonies of 418-444 {81-153}
the great pictures of 444-451 {154-175}
sacrifices of 451-455 {176-191}
Dsilyi‘ Neyáni, story of 387-417 {9-80}
origin of the name 404 {41}
introduction of ceremonials by 409-411 {53-60}
return of, to the gods 417 {79}
prayer to 420 {88}, 421 {257}, 465 {261}
visit of, to home of the snakes 446 {160}, 447 {162}
home of the bears seen by 447-449 {162-170}
visit to Lodge of Dew by 450 {172}, 451 {173}
Hoshkàwn, dance of the. (See Yucca baccata.)
Keam’s Cañon, Navajo dance at 432 {127}, 442 {148}
Navajo rites, seasons for 386 {5}
Qaçàli, or Navajo chanter 385 {2}, 387 {7}
Qastcèëlçi. _See_ Yaybichy, dance of the.
Sand pictures, ceremonial 422 {93}, 423 {97},
427 {107}, 428 {111},
429 {115}
Schoolcraft, H. R., on sacrificial sticks 453 {179}
Shaman, Navajo 385 {2}, 387 {7}
Sun dance, song of the rising 465 {265}
Yaybichy, dance of the 435 {133}, 436 {136}
Yucca baccata dance 386 {3}, 439 {143}, 441 {144}
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Supplement:
The First Song of the First Dancers, with translation, is here given in
a more conventional spelling, using the following substitutions based on
the author’s Note on Orthography:
¢ > ð (eth)
ç > þ (thorn)
j > ʒ (ezh)
q, Q > χ, Χ (chi)
The use of “c” has been retained.
Χaniè χaò yaè, χaniè χaò yaè
Χaniè iè oayè oayè.
1. Χadʒinäìa χaò yaè,
2. Kaþ dsil ðilhyíli χaò yaè,
3. ‘Çaltsoï tsèë χaò yaè,
4. Ciʒa cigèlgo χaò yaè.
Náhi ìni èhi oayè, náhi ini èhi oöhè.
5. Niχoyastcàdʒe χaò yaè,
6. Kaþ dsil þolíʒi χaò yaè,
7. Kini bitsèë χaò yaè,
8. Ciʒa cigèlgo χaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
9. Χadʒinäìa χaò yaè,
10. Kaþ dsil litsòï χaò yaè,
11. Bitselitsòï χaò yaè,
12. Ciʒa cigèlgo χaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
13. Niχoyastcàdʒe χaò yaè,
14. Kaþ dsil lakàie χaò yaè,
15. A‘a‘i tsèe χaò yaè,
16. Ciʒa cigèlgo χaò yaè.
Náhi ìni, etc.
199. _Translation._--1, 9. Χadʒinàï, “Place-where-they-came-up,”
a locality in the San Juan Mountains where, according to their
mythology, the Navajo emerged from the lower world to this. 5, 13.
Niχoyastcàdʒe, another name for Χadʒinàï. 2, 6, 10, 14. Kaþ, now; dsil,
mountain; ðilhyíli, black; þolíʒi, blue; litsòï, yellow; lakàie, white.
These verses refer to four mountains surrounding Χadʒinàï, which are
designated by colors only to indicate their topographical positions.
3, 7, 11, 15. ‘Çaltsoï = aþa litsòï, “yellow wing,” a large bird of
prey; kini, hen hawk; bitselitsòï, “yellow tail,” a bird of undetermined
species; a‘a‘i, magpie; tse, a tail; bitse, its tail. 4, 8, 12, 16.
Ciʒa, my treasure; cigèl, my desideratum, my ultimatum, the only thing I
will accept. When supposed to be said by a god, as in this song, it
means the particular sacrifice which is appropriate to him. In this case
probably the feathers spoken of are “cigèl” and the mountains “ciʒa.”
The refrain “χaò yaè” is a poetic modification of χaa‘, it looms up, or
sticks up, said of some lofty object visible in the distance, whose base
cannot be seen.
* * * * *
Errors and Inconsistencies (noted by transcriber)
The utterance “hu‘hu‘hu‘hu” was printed both with and without final ‘.
Table of Contents:
The great pictures of dsilyídje qaçàl 444
_text reads “44”_
Sacrifices of dsilyídje qaçàl
_indentation changed to agree with body text_
fac simile
_printed as two words_
Index:
Akáninili
_text reads “Akánilini”_
Akáninili ... 417
_error for 421?_
Dsilyi‘ Neyáni ... prayer to ... 421
_error for 464?_
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Mountain Chant, A Navajo Ceremony - Fifth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology to the - Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1883-84, - Government Printing Office, Washington, 1887, pages 379-468" ***
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