CHAPTER XIV
The Serpent with Fish inside His Body
IN A STUDY devoted to the oral traditions of the Toba and Pilagá Indians,1 Alfred Métraux points out certain parallels between the great mythological themes which are still to be found in the modern Chaco and the myths of the Andean regions reported by ancient authors. Thus, the Toba, the Vilela, and the Mataco know the myth of “The Long Night,” which Avila obtained in the province of Huarochiri; and the Chiriguano relate the tale of the rebellion of the utensils against their masters, a story which is also to be found in the Popol-Vuh and in the work of Montesinos. Métraux adds that the latter episode “is also portrayed on a Chimu vase.”
Another myth collected by Metraux strikingly illuminates a curious motif which we know from at least two pre-Columbian illustrations. (A careful study of the Peruvian collections in the principal museums would doubtless yield other examples.) This myth is the legend of the serpent Lik, “as large as a table.” A kindly native, at first afraid of its appearance, carried the serpent to the river from which it had unwisely strayed:
The serpent asked, “Won’t you carry me?” “How can I? You are very heavy.” “No, I am light.” “But you are so large,” countered the man. “Yes, I am large, but light.” “But you are full of fish.” (It is true, Lik is full of fish. The fish are under his tail and when he moves he carries them with him.) The serpent went on, “If you carry me I shall give you all the fish I have inside me.” Later on, the man tells his adventure and describes the fabulous animal: “He is loaded with fish, which are in his tail.” 2
In his excellent commentary following this tale, Métraux adds:
I obtained the following information about the mythical Lik. Lik is a supernatural animal, a huge serpent who carries fish within his tail. Some particularly lucky people may meet Lik stranded on high ground in winter, when water disappears from many lagoons and cañadas. Lik asks them to take him back to a lagoon which contains water. Those who are not frightened by the very sight of the serpent generally object that he is too heavy to be carried, but in each case Lik uses his magic and makes himself light. When he is once more swimming in deep water, he promises those who have helped him to give them as many fish as they want whenever they ask for them, but on one condition—that they never reveal to anyone how the fish were obtained. . . .3
It is interesting to recall this myth in connection with the two vases illustrated here. The first one (Figure 22) is a vase from Nazca with a rounded base; the body, roughly cylindrical, narrows gradually toward the opening, which is 31/2 inches in diameter. The total height of the vase is 7 inches. The decoration is in five colors on a white background: black, deep purple, dark ocher, light ocher, and grayish beige. A mythical animal is represented with a human body. Its head is armed with tentacles, and it has a jaw with huge teeth. Toward the rear of its body there is a caudal appendix, at first straight, then curved, and ending in a hind extremity with a second head, which is smaller. This sinuous tail bristles with spikes, among which fish are circulating; and the whole serpentine part, represented as though in cross-section, is also filled with fish. The monster is devouring a man, whose bent body is held between its teeth, while a protuberant limb in the shape of an arm and hand is ready to stab the victim with a spear. Two small fish look on, apparently waiting for their share of the feast. The whole scene seems to illustrate an episode obtained by Metraux from his informants: “Lik sometimes swallows people. If they have their knife when they are inside the snake, they can cut his heart and make their way out, and at the same time secure all the fish in his tail.” 4 In the old Nazca vase, however, it is the serpent who seems to be more effectively armed.
FIGURE 22. Design on a vase pom Nazca. (Collection of Dr. J. Lacan.)
The second vase (Figure 23), the illustration of which we borrow from Bässler, derives from Pacasmayo. We see here the same monster, half serpent, half human, whose curved body is also filled with fish. A stripe ornamented with stylized waves suggests that the animal is in a river, on whose surface a man is sailing a boat. In this case, too, the archaeological object presents a surprisingly faithful illustration of the modern narrative: “Kidos’k’s uncle told me that he had actually seen Lik. Once when he was fishing in a boat he suddenly heard a big noise which he recognized as being produced by Lik. He immediately made for the river bank, paddling with all his strength.” 5
These parallels, which survive in areas that are far apart and separated by several centuries in time, lead us to hope for a counterdemonstration, that is, pictorial representations of these legends made by contemporary natives, so that we could compare them with the two objects reproduced here. This does not seem to be impossible, since Metraux points out that a Toba artist drew him a picture of Lik with fish inside his body.
FIGURE 23. Vase from Pacasmayo. (After A. Bassler, Alte peruanische Kunst, Vol. II, Fig. 271.)
Above all, it appears certain that in those areas of South America where high and low cultures have been in regular or intermittent contact for a long period of time, ethnographers and archaeologists can collaborate in elucidating common problems. The “serpent with fish inside his body” is only one theme among the hundreds which are illustrated almost ad infinitum in Peruvian ceramics. We can no longer doubt that the key to so many heretofore incomprehensible motifs is directly accessible in myths and tales which are still current. One would be mistaken to neglect these means which enable us to gain access to the past. Only the myths can guide us into the labyrinth of monsters and gods when, in the absence of writing, the plastic documentation cannot lead us any further. By reconstructing the connections between distant areas, various historical periods, and cultures at different stages of development, this kind of research documents, illuminates—and, perhaps, one day will explain—the vast syncretism that has persistently frustrated Americanists in their search for the historical antecedents of specific phenomena.6
NOTES
1. Alfred Métraux, Myths of the Toba and Pilagá Indians of the Gran Chaco, Memoirs of the American Folklore Society, Vol. XL (Philadelphia: 1946).
2. Ibid., p. 57.
3. Ibid., p. 59.
4. Loc. cit.
5. Ibid., p. 69.
6. In an article entitled "La Deidad primitiva de los Nasca," published in 1932 in the Revista del Museo Nacional (Lima, Peru), II, No. 2, E. Yacovleff approached the same problem and formulated the hypothesis that the animal that is represented on the vase might be a terrible hunter of the seas, a fish 13 to 30 feet long, the Orca gladiator. If this is correct, the Pilagá legend collected by Métraux is an echo among inland peoples of a maritime theme. At any rate, the similarity between the modern document and archaeological finds would remain a striking one. (See especially Figure 9, h, m, p. 132 of Yacovleff’s article.)
We should also keep in mind the fact that the same myth, with its characteristic leitmotif—"You are heavy." "No, I am light!"—recurs as far away as North America, particularly among the Sioux, except that among these hunters the aquatic monster is not a Mother of Fish, but a Mother of Bisons. Curiously enough, the Mother of Fish appears among the Iroquois (who are not fishermen), with an additional specification: "My mane is heavy with fish." We cannot fail to be reminded of the Maya frescoes of Bonampak in which some figures wear a headdress (or hair) laden with fish, as well as of certain myths, especially of the southeastern United States, in which the hero multiplies fish by washing his hair in a river.