“IT IS A LITTLE VILLAGE, looking as if it had been crumpled all up together.” So did Hawikuh, pueblo of the Zuni in New Mexico, look to Coronado’s men in 1540. There was no gold for the Spaniards to take, but there was corn. The Spaniards seized on the corn and departed.
Forty years later, Spanish settlers began arriving in the area. Revolts, suffering, changes in masters followed with monotonous regularity; yet, despite it all, the Indian is still in his ancient home, holding fast to his ancient traditions.
The present-day Indians of the Southwest are the descendants of many tribes which invaded the country from north, south and east. First to come, so far as we know, were Basket Makers who lived in caves and brush huts. They were hunters and farmers. Corn was their principal crop.
Next came the Cliff Dwellers. Just as we have seen that the Mound-builders were no mysterious race of beings, so it was with the Cliff Dwellers. They were Pueblo Indians, as we call them, ancestors of the present groups so-called; but they were also in their time the greatest architects north of Mexico, the builders of the great communal apartment dwellings whose ruins are still to be seen and marvelled at. The ancestors of the present-day Pomos and Papagos were another invading group who arrived at about the same time as the Cliff Dwellers and built the first irrigation canals in the Southwest.
Then came the nomads—the Apaches, the Navaho and the Comanches, to name the best-known of them. These were hunters and seed-gatherers, always on the move. Their many different languages indicate their origin. Some were from the Plains; some were from the east; some were from Mexico.
The black and white pottery, with its geometric and rectilinear designs, shown on Plate 35, comes from the ruins of the Cliff Dwellings and pueblos. Most of these designs show the influence of basket and textile weaving. In startling contrast is the pottery from the Mimbres Valley on Plate 37. Realism is so rare in early work that the style developed there is truly unique. Pottery from Casas Grandes shows bird and animal forms and effigy vessels, indicating Mexican influence from the Nahua and Aztec groups. The Cochiti legend, “The Institution of Pottery,” will be found a valuable clue to the purposes of the designers.
Pre-historic Hopi and Zuni potters also used bird motives, some realistic, others so highly conventionalized that it is difficult to identify the forms unless one is acquainted with the historic changes. Plate 34 shows a representative range of bird forms.
A typical modern Zuni design uses the deer enclosed in a panel of leaf-like forms and free scrolls, called the “deer’s house.” The deer is invariably painted with his heart showing—the same symbolism that is expressed by leaving a break in an encircling line of a design in order that the soul of the vessel may not be imprisoned. Since the Indian believes his baskets and bowls have life, it would be fatal to the maker to close the break.
The prayer meal bowls illustrated on Plate 38 show true symbolism, cloud and rain symbols and life forms associated with water. Symbolism is expressed in the highest degree in the Navaho sand paintings (Plate 42) which are really prayers to cure the sick. By destroying the painting the medicine man destroys the illness of the patient. The Navaho story of “The Floating Logs” on page 115 explains the origin and symbolism of sand-painting. The Navaho’s blanket designs are not symbolic, but under pressure of white ideas they are using patterns that probably cause their ancestors to turn in their graves (Plate 45). The center blanket, with Yei, a male god, was copied by the weaver from a sand painting.
Ancient symbolical designs are embroidered on ceremonial garments by the Hopi. Those shown on Plates 43 and 45 with clouds, rain streaks, butterflies, and so forth, are particularly fine in design. Rain symbols are found on the mask of one of the Kachina dancers on Plate 41.
Among the Pueblo groups the Hopi are the only ones who do any amount of decorated basketry. The Apaches are expert basket makers. The designs are mostly geometrical but not symbolic (Plate 40).
The well-known silver work of the Navaho and Zuni was derived from the Spanish as many of the forms indicate, although most of the design elements are original with the Indian.
The legends and myths of the Southwest tribes are, perhaps, the best-known of Indian stories to the average reader. The Navaho legends and ceremonial chants, the Zuni origin myth and its concomitant chant-poems make stirring reading; and do not forget that the clue to the symbolism of color and of the graphic designs will be found in their explanations of the supernatural.
A MAN SAT THINKING, “Let me see; my songs are too short; I want more songs; where shall I go to find them?” Hasjelti appeared and, perceiving his thoughts, said, “I know where you can go to get more songs.” “Well, I much want to get more, and I will follow you.”
When they reached a certain point in a box canyon in the Big Colorado River they found four gods (the Hostjobokon) at work hewing logs of cottonwood. Hasjelti said, “This will not do; cottonwood becomes water-soaked; you must use pine instead of cottonwood.” The Hostjobokon then began boring the pine with flint, when Hasjelti said, “That is slow work,” and he commanded the whirlwind to hollow the log. A Jerusalem cross was formed with one solid log and a hollow one. The song-hunter entered the hollow log and Hasjelti closed the end with a cloud, that the water of the river might not enter when the logs were launched upon the great waters. The Hostjobokon, accompanied by their wives, rode upon the logs, a couple sitting on the end of each cross arm. These were accompanied by Hasjelti, Hostjoghon, and two Naaskiddi, who walked on the banks to ward the logs off from the shore. Hasjelti carried a squirrel skin filled with tobacco from which to supply the gods on their journey. Hostjoghon carried a staff ornamented with eagle and turkey plumes and a gaming ring with two hummingbirds tied to it with white cotton cord. The two Naaskiddi carried staffs of lightning. After floating a long distance down the river they came to waters that had a shore on one side only, and they landed. Here they found people like themselves. These people, on learning of the song-hunter’s wish, gave to him many songs and they painted pictures on a cotton blanket and said, “These pictures must go with the songs. If we give this blanket to you you will lose it. We will give you white earth and black coals which you will grind together to make black paint, and we will give you white sand, yellow sand, and red sand, and for the blue paint you will take white sand and black coals with a very little red and yellow sand. These together will give you blue.”
The song-hunter remained with these people until the corn was ripe. There he learned to eat corn and he carried some back with him to the Navaho, who had not seen corn before, and he taught them how to raise it and how to eat it.
As the logs would not float upstream the song-hunter was conveyed by four sunbeams, one attached to each end of the cross-logs, to the box canyon whence he emerged. Upon his return he separated the logs, placing an end of the solid log into the hollow end of the other and planted this great pole in the river, where to this day it is to be seen by those so venturesome as to visit this point.
Navaho
THERE WAS A MAN who, while playing the hoop game and the game of seven wooden dice, lost all his property, including a very good house. He also lost the beads that belonged to his niece. Because of this his brothers resolved to kill him. A necklace of mixed beads was hanging in the center of the house. The niece told her uncle he might wager that also. “All right, niece,” he replied, and took the white shell, the turquoise, the abalone, the coral, the jet; he took five of them off one by one. He also provided himself with specular iron ore, pollen of larkspur and of cat-tails. With these he walked away to the corn pits which were full. From these he took one ear each of the five colors. He patted these together until they were small. “Well, little mother,” he said to his niece, “they speak of killing me. It may be you and I will see each other again. Goodbye.”
Then he put a tree into the water with himself (inside of it). He floated in the tree down where the stream enters the Colorado River. He got out of the tree there and walked along the shore. He felt lonesome there. He planted the corn he had brought with him in the form of a cross, putting the seed in, one by one. Each stalk had two ears projecting opposite each other. There were twelve stalks with two ears each.
He stayed there four years and then started to return to his home. After many days he got back, arriving early in the morning at his home which was called te’ineisk’it. He went to the corn storage pits, but they were entirely empty. He put four ears in them and blew on them four times. After that he went where his niece was sitting. They were having a famine. “Prepare food for me, my little mother,” he said to her. “There is none,” she replied. “Four days after you left, the corn was all gone. I do not know how it happened.” She sat there crying. “I cannot cook food for you, my uncle.” “Go and get something,” he said again. “Do not say that, uncle, there is none, none.” When they had spoken to each other four times she went to the pits.
When she got there the pits were full. “Thanks, uncle,” she called as she ran back with the corn. The girl then ran to the men and told them her uncle had come and that the corn pits were full again.
“Welcome,” they said, when they came in and they then embraced him. “You are the only one, younger brother. In the future we will not speak evil of you. Something has happened to the game animals. We hunt in vain.”
Wondering what had happened, the returned brother hunted for days in vain. One day when he was hunting he went to the top of a mountain. Below a cliff he saw a deer standing. He ran around and crept up where the deer had been, but it had vanished. He examined the ground, but the soil had not been disturbed. The next day he climbed the mountain again and there the deer stood again. This time he walked directly toward it trying to keep it in sight; but where it had been standing there was nothing but some deer dung. A little distance from where he stood there had been a spruce tree, but when he turned his head away and then looked in that direction again a god stood there. “What is it, grandchild?” he asked. “A deer which was standing right there has vanished,” he replied. “Have you white shell, grandson?” “I have them all, grandfather.” “My grandson has everything. We will do it,” the god said. [They went up to the god’s house.]
He found the door fronts were darkness, daylight, the moon, and the sun. Inside, shadow gods were sitting on either side, facing each other. “Well, go on, my grandson,” the first god said. He took steps on the right side of the house four times, blowing as he did so, and four footprints appeared. He discovered that the first god had pets which he kept far in the interior. He heard from inside someone say, “Ho, I smell earth people. The polite master has brought in a human being.” “Do not say that; he has everything,” the god said. Back of the fire a male deer was lying. On him lay a feathered arrow with a red shaft. It had just been pulled out.
The man took a seat in the center. He put down one each of white shell, turquoise, coral, abalone, jet, specular iron ore, blue pollen, cat-tail pollen, and then covered them with a blanket. He stepped over these four times and they became a great heap.
The god was sorrowful and said, “I do not think we can give you a fair equivalent.” He found out afterward that he stayed there in the house of the game animals four days. The shadow gods distributed the precious objects. They gave each of those present fifteen pieces, then thirteen, then nine, then seven, then five, then three, and all had been given out.
“This is the way deer should be skinned. Break the legs here at the wrist joint, but let them hang by the tendons. Leave the skin on the nose and lips. Draw the skin carefully from under the eyes. Do not cut through the bladder. Turn the hide back to the hips. If you do this way you will always kill game. Put the head toward the center, but do not let the eyes burn or the teeth. You must not cook it by burying it in the ashes. Game animals must not be thrown away. Sickness will result if you do not observe these things. If the teeth are burned the hunter’s teeth will hurt. You earth people will have a cure for it, grandson,” the god told him.
He had everything prepared. “What did you come for, grandson?” Small Whirlwind told him that on that side were images of the game animals standing side by side. On the east side was the paunch of an animal in which were deer songs. The man pointed to these. The god looked down and said, “All right, grandson. It was for these you came.”
Being xactc’eyalti I came up.
To the abode of the deer I came up.
To the door post of darkness I came up.
To the door post of daylight I came up.
To the door post of moon I came up.
To the door post of sun I came up.
To the place where xactc’eyalti with xactc’ejin sat facing each other, I came up.
To where the black bow and the feathered arrows with red shaft lie across each other, I came up.
Over there they lie across each other, red with the mouth blood of a male deer.
Over there the deer I killed likes me.
He sang only one deer song.
They were here when I was hunting them in vain he thought to himself. “Shoot them in the brush,” he told him. This is where they are.
I being xactc’eyalti.
On the trail to the top of Black Mountain,
On the trail among the flowers,
Male deer are there,
The pollen of herbs I will put in its mouth,
The male deer steps along in the dew of the vegetation.
I kill him but he likes me.
He returned home. He shot into the brush and a deer rolled over with the arrow in him. He shot into another kind of brush and a fawn rolled over with the arrow in him. He shot into another kind of brush and a yearling rolled over with the arrow.
“I have done something important,” he thought to himself as he ran back. They found he had killed them all. That is why when they get away we track them.
There are very many game songs. If one does not know them he does not hunt. We are afraid about these things because they are pets of the gods.
Navaho
SOMETHING WAS SPREAD over it. It moved and became alive. It whimpered. Woman-Who-Changes began to sing:—
Changing Woman I am, I hear.
In the center of my house behind the fire, I hear.
Sitting on jewels spread wide, I hear.
In a jet basket, in a jet house, there now it lies.
Vegetation with its dew in it, it lies.
Over there,
It increases, not hurting the house now with it it lies, inside it lies.
Its feet were made of mirage. They say that, because a horse’s feet have stripes. Its gait was a rainbow, its bridle of sun strings. Its heart was made of red stone. Its intestines were made of water of all kinds, its tail of black rain. Its mane was a cloud with a little rain. Distant lightning composed its ears. A big spreading twinkling star formed its eye and striped its face. Its lower legs were white. At night it gives light in front because its face was made of vegetation. Large beads formed its lips; white shell, its teeth, so they would not wear out quickly. A black flute was put into its mouth for a trumpet. Its belly was made of dawn, one side white, one side black. That is why it is called “half white.”
A white-shell basket stood there. In it was the water of a mare’s afterbirth. A turquoise basket stood there. It contained the water of the afterbirth. An abalone basket full of the eggs of various birds stood there. A jet basket with eggs stood there. The baskets stand for quadrupeds, the eggs for birds. Now as Changing Woman began to sing, the animals came up to taste. The horse tasted twice; hence mares sometimes give birth to twins. One ran back without tasting. Four times, he ran up and back again. The last time he said, “Sh!” and did not taste. “She will not give birth. Long-ears (Mule) she will be called,” said Changing Woman. The others tasted the eggs from the different places. Hence there are many feathered people. Because they tasted the eggs in the abalone and jet baskets many are black.
Navaho
KINTYEL, BROAD HOUSE, AND KINDOTLIZ, Blue House, are two pueblo houses in the Chaco Canyon. They are ruins now; but in the days when Kinniki lived on earth many people dwelt there. Not far from the ruins is a high cliff called Tse’dezá, or Standing Rock. Near these places the rite of yói hatál, or the bead chant, was first practised by the Navaho, and this is the tale of how it first became known to man:—
Two young men, one from Kintyel and one from Kindotliz, went out one day to hunt deer. About sunset, as they were returning to Kindotliz, weary and unsuccessful, they observed a war-eagle soaring overhead, and they stopped to watch his flight. He moved slowly away, growing smaller and smaller to their gaze until at length he dwindled to a black speck, almost invisible; and while they strained their sight to get a last look he seemed to them to descend on the top of Standing Rock. In order to mark the spot where they last saw him they cut a forked stick, stuck it in the ground fork upward, and arranged it so that when they should look over it again, crouching in a certain position, their sight would be guided to the spot. They left the stick standing and went home to Kindotliz.
In those days eagles were very scarce in the land; it was a wonder to see one; so when the young men got home and told the story of their day’s adventures, it became the subject of much conversation and counsel, and at length the people determined to send four men, in the morning, to take sight over the forked stick, in order to find out where the eagle lived.
Next morning early, the four men designated went to the forked stick and sighted over it, and all came to the conclusion that the eagle lived on the point of Tse’dezá. They went at once to the rock, climbed to the summit, and saw the eagle and its young in a cleft on the face of the precipice below them. They remained on the summit all day and watched the nest.
At night they went home and told what they had seen. They had observed two young eagles of different ages in the nest. Of the four men who went on the search, two were from Kintyel and two were from Kindotliz, therefore people from the two pueblos met in counsel in an estufa, and there it was decided that Kindotliz should have the elder of the two eaglets and that Kintyel should have the younger.
The only way to reach the nest was to lower a man to it with a rope; yet directly above the nest was an overhanging ledge which the man, descending, would be obliged to pass. It was a dangerous undertaking, and no one could be found to volunteer for it. Living near the pueblos was a miserable Navaho beggar who subsisted on such food as he could pick up. When the sweepings of the rooms and the ashes from the fireplaces were thrown out on the kitchen heap, he searched eagerly through them and was happy if he could find a few grains of corn or a piece of paper bread. He was called Nahoditáhe, or He Who Picks Up (like a bird). They concluded to induce this man to make the dangerous descent.
They returned to the pueblo and sent for the poor Navaho to come to the estufa. When he came they bade him be seated, placed before him a large basket of paper bread, bowls of boiled corn and meat, with all sorts of their best food, and told him to eat his fill. He ate as he had never eaten before, and after a long time he told his hosts that he was satisfied. “You shall eat,” said they, “of such abundance all your life, and never more have to scrape for grains of corn among the dirt, if you will do as we desire.” Then they told him of their plan for catching the young eagles, and asked him if he were willing to be put in a basket and lowered to the nest with a rope. He pondered and was silent. They asked him again and again until they had asked him four times, while he still sat in meditation. At last he answered: “I lead but a poor life at best. Existence is not sweet to a man who always hungers. It would be pleasant to eat such food for the rest of my days, and some time or other I must die. I shall do as you wish.”
On the following morning they gave him another good meal; they made a great, strong carrying-basket with four corners at the top; they tied a strong string to each corner, and, collecting a large party, they set out for the rock of Tse’dezá.
When the party arrived at the top of the rock they tied a long, stout rope to the four strings on the basket. They instructed the Navaho to take the eaglets out of the nest and drop them to the bottom of the cliff. The Navaho then entered the basket and was lowered over the edge of the precipice. They let the rope out slowly till they thought they had lowered him far enough and then they stopped; but as he had not yet reached the nest he called out to them to lower him farther. They did so, and as soon as he was on a level with the nest he called to the people above to stop.
He was just about to grasp the eaglets and throw them down when Wind whispered to him: “These people of the Pueblos are not your friends. They desire not to feed you with their good food as long as you live. If you throw these young eagles down, as they bid you, they will never pull you up again. Get into the eagles’ nest and stay there.” When he heard this, he called to those above: “Swing the basket so that it may come nearer to the cliff. I cannot reach the nest unless you do.” So they caused the basket to swing back and forth. When it touched the cliff he held fast to the rock and scrambled into the nest, leaving the empty basket swinging in the air.
The Pueblos saw the empty basket swinging and waited, expecting to see the Navaho get back into it again. But when they had waited a good while and found he did not return they began to call to him as if he were a dear relation of theirs. “My son,” said the old men, “throw down those little eagles.” “My elder brother! My younger brother!” the young men shouted, “throw down those little eagles.” They kept up their clamor until nearly sunset; but they never moved the will of the Navaho. He sat in the cleft and never answered them, and when the sun set they ceased calling and went home.
In the cleft or cave, around the nest, four dead animals lay; to the east there was a fawn; to the south a hare; to the west the young of a Rocky Mountain sheep, and to the north a prairie-dog. From time to time, when the eaglets felt hungry, they would leave the nest and eat of the meat; but the Navaho did not touch it.
Early next day the Pueblo people returned and gathered in a great crowd at the foot of the cliff. They stayed there all day repeating their entreaties and promises, calling the Navaho by endearing terms, and displaying all kinds of tempting food to his gaze; but he heeded them not and spoke not.
They came early again on the third day, but they came in anger. They no longer called him by friendly names; they no longer made fair promises to him; but, instead, they shot fire-arrows at the eyry in hopes they would burn the Navaho out or set fire to the nest and compel him to throw it and the eaglets down. But he remained watchful and active, and whenever a fire-arrow entered the cave he seized it quickly and threw it out. Then they abused him and reviled him, and called him bad names until sunset, when again they went home.
They came again on the fourth day and acted as they had done on the previous day; but they did not succeed in making the Navaho throw down the little eagles. He spoke to the birds, saying: “Can you not help me?” They rose in the nest, shook their wings, and threw out many little feathers, which fell on the people below. The Navaho thought the birds must be scattering disease on his enemies. When the latter left at sunset they said: “Now we shall leave you where you are, to die of hunger and thirst.” He was then altogether three nights and nearly four days in the cave. For two days the Pueblos had coaxed and flattered him; for two days they had cursed and reviled him, and at the end of the fourth day they went home and left him in the cave to die.
When his tormentors were gone he sat in the cave hungry and thirsty, weak and despairing, till the night fell. Soon after dark he heard a great rushing sound which approached from one side of the entrance to the cave, roared a moment in front, and then grew faint in the distance at the other side. Thus four times the sound came and went, growing louder each time it passed, and at length the male Eagle lit on the eyry. Soon the sounds were repeated, and the female bird, the mother of the eaglets, alighted. Turning at once toward the Navaho, she said: “Greeting, my child! Thanks, my child! You have not thrown down your younger brother, Doniki.” The male Eagle repeated the same words. They addressed the Navaho by the name of Doniki, but afterwards they named him Kinniki, after the chief of all the Eagles in the sky. He only replied to the Eagles: “I am hungry. I am thirsty.”
The male Eagle opened his sash and took out a small white cotton cloth which contained a little corn meal, and he took out a small bowl of white shell no bigger than the palm of the hand. When the Indian saw this he said: “Give me water first, for I am famishing with thirst.” “No,” replied the Eagle; “eat first and then you shall have something to drink.” The Eagle then drew forth from his tail feathers a small plant which has many joints and grows near streams. The joints were all filled with water. The Eagle mixed a little of the water with some of the meal in the shell and handed the mixture to the Navaho. The latter ate and ate, until he was satisfied, but he could not diminish in the least the contents of the shell vessel. When he was done eating there was as much in the cup as there was when he began. He handed it back to the Eagle, the latter emptied it with one sweep of his finger, and it remained empty. Then the Eagle put the jointed plant to the Navaho’s lips as if it were a wicker bottle, and the Indian drank his fill.
On the previous nights, while lying in the cave, the Navaho had slept between the eaglets in the nest to keep himself warm and shelter himself from the wind, and this plan had been of some help to him; but on this night the great Eagles slept one on each side of him, and he felt as warm as if he had slept among robes of fur. Before the Eagles lay down to sleep each took off his robe of plumes, which formed a single garment, opening in front, and revealed a form like that of a human being.
The Navaho slept well that night and did not waken till he heard a voice calling from the top of the cliff: “Where are you? The day has dawned. It is growing late. Why are you not abroad already?” At the sound of this voice the Eagles woke too and put on their robes of plumage. Presently a great number of birds were seen flying before the opening of the cave and others were heard calling to one another on the rock overhead. There were many kinds of Eagles and Hawks in the throng. Some of all the large birds of prey were there. Those on top of the rock sang:—
Kinnakiye, there he sits.
When they fly up,
We shall see him.
He will flap his wings.
One of the Eagles brought a dress of eagle plumes and was about to put it on the Navaho when the others interfered, and they had a long argument as to whether they should dress him in the garment of the Eagles or not; but at length they all flew away without giving him the dress. When they returned they had thought of another plan for taking him out of the cave. Laying him on his face, they put a streak of crooked lightning under his feet, a sunbeam under his knees, a piece of straight lightning under his chest, another under his outstretched hands, and a rainbow under his forehead.
An Eagle then seized each end of these six supports,—making twelve Eagles in all,—and they flew with the Navaho and the eaglets away from the eyry. They circled round twice with their burden before they reached the level of the top of the cliff. They circled round twice more ascending, and then flew toward the south, still going upwards. When they got above the top of Tsótsil (Mt. Taylor), they circled four times more, until they almost touched the sky. Then they began to flag and breathed hard, and they cried out: “We are weary. We can fly no farther.” The voice of one, unseen to the Navaho, cried from above: “Let go your burden.” The Eagles released their hold on the supports, and the Navaho felt himself descending swiftly toward the earth. But he had not fallen far when he felt himself seized around the waist and chest, he felt something twining itself around his body, and a moment later he beheld the heads of two Arrow-snakes looking at him over his shoulders. The Arrow-snakes bore him swiftly upwards, up through the sky-hole, and landed him safely on the surface of the upper world above the sky.
When he looked around him he observed four pueblo dwellings, or towns; a white pueblo in the east, a blue pueblo in the south, a yellow pueblo in the west, and a black pueblo in the north. Wolf was the chief of the eastern pueblo, Blue Fox of the southern, Puma of the western, and Big Snake of the northern. The Navaho was left at liberty to go where he chose, but Wind whispered into his ear and said: “Visit, if you wish, all the pueblos except that of the north. Chicken Hawk and other bad characters dwell there.”
Next he observed that a war party was preparing, and soon after his arrival the warriors went forth. What enemies they sought he could not learn. He entered several of the houses, was well treated wherever he went, and given an abundance of paper bread and other good food to eat. He saw that in their homes the Eagles were just like ordinary people down on the lower world. As soon as they entered their pueblos they took off their feather suits, hung these up on pegs and poles, and went around in white suits which they wore underneath their feathers when in flight. He visited all the pueblos except the black one in the north. In the evening the warriors returned. They were received with loud wailing and with tears, for many who went out in the morning did not return at night. They had been slain in battle.
In a few days another war party was organized, and this time the Navaho determined to go with it. When the warriors started on the trail he followed them. “Whither are you going?” they asked. “I wish to be one of your party,” he replied. They laughed at him and said: “You are a fool to think you can go to war against such dreadful enemies as those that we fight. We can move as fast as the wind, yet our enemies can move faster. If they are able to overcome us, what chance have you, poor man, for your life?” Hearing this, he remained behind, but they had not travelled far when he hurried after them. When he overtook them, which he soon did, they spoke to him angrily, told him more earnestly than before how helpless he was, and how great his danger, and bade him return to the villages. Again he halted; but as soon as they were out of sight he began to run after them, and he came up with them at the place where they had encamped for the night. Here they gave him of their food, and again they scolded him, and sought to dissuade him from accompanying them.
In the morning, when the warriors resumed their march, he remained behind on the camping-ground, as if he intended to return; but as soon as they were out of sight he proceeded again to follow them. He had not travelled far when he saw smoke coming up out of the ground, and approaching the smoke he found a smoke-hole, out of which stuck an old ladder, yellow with smoke, such as we see in the pueblo dwellings to-day. He looked down through the hole and beheld, in a subterranean chamber beneath, a strange-looking old woman with a big mouth. Her teeth were not set in her head evenly and regularly, like those of an Indian; they protruded from her mouth, were set at a distance from one another, and were curved like the claws of a bear. She was Nastsé Estsán, the Spider Woman. She invited him into her house, and he passed down the ladder.
When he got inside, the Spider Woman showed him four large wooden hoops,—one in the east colored black, one in the south colored blue, one in the west colored yellow, and one in the north white and sparkling. Attached to each hoop were a number of decayed, ragged feathers. “These feathers,” said she, “were once beautiful plumes, but now they are old and dirty. I want some new plumes to adorn my hoops, and you can get them for me. Many of the Eagles will be killed in the battle to which you are going, and when they die you can pluck out the plumes and bring them to me. Have no fear of the enemies. Would you know who they are that the Eagles go to fight? They are only the bumblebees and the tumble-weeds.” She gave him a long black cane and said: “With this you can gather the tumble-weeds into a pile, and then you can set them on fire. Spit the juice of scare-weed at the bees and they cannot sting you. But before you burn up the tumble-weeds gather some of the seeds, and when you have killed the bees take some of their nests. You will need these things when you return to the earth.” When Spider Woman had done speaking the Navaho left to pursue his journey.
He travelled on, and soon came up with the warriors where they were hiding behind a little hill and preparing for battle. Some were putting on their plumes; others were painting and adorning themselves. From time to time one of their number would creep cautiously to the top of the hill and peep over; then he would run back and whisper: “There are the enemies. They await us.” The Navaho went to the top of the hill and peered over; but he could see no enemy whatever. He saw only a dry, sandy flat, covered in one place with sunflowers, and in another place with dead weeds; for it was now late in the autumn in the world above.
Soon the Eagles were all ready for the fray. They raised their war-cry, and charged over the hill into the sandy plain. The Navaho remained behind the hill, peeping over to see what would occur. As the warriors approached the plain a whirlwind arose; a great number of tumble-weeds ascended with the wind and surged around madly through the air; and, at the same time, from among the sunflowers a cloud of bumblebees arose. The Eagles charged through the ranks of their enemies, and when they had passed to the other side they turned around and charged back again. Some spread their wings and soared aloft to attack the tumble-weeds that had gone up with the whirlwind. From time to time the Navaho noticed the dark body of an Eagle falling down through the air. When the combat had continued some time, the Navaho noticed a few of the Eagles running toward the hill where he lay watching. In a moment some more came running toward him, and soon after the whole party of Eagles, all that was left of it, rushed past him, in a disorderly retreat, in the direction whence they had come, leaving many slain on the field. Then the wind fell; the tumble-weeds lay quiet again on the sand, and the bumblebees disappeared among the sunflowers.
When all was quiet, the Navaho walked down to the sandy flat, and, having gathered some of the seeds and tied them up in a corner of his shirt, he collected the tumble-weeds into a pile, using his black wand. Then he took out his fire-drill, started a flame, and burnt up the whole pile. He gathered some scare-weed, as the Spider Woman had told him, chewed it, and went in among the sunflowers. Here the bees gathered around him in a great swarm, and sought to sting him; but he spat the juice of the scare-weed at them and stunned with it all that he struck. Soon most of them lay helpless on the ground, and the others fled in fear. He went around with his black wand and killed all that he could find. He dug into the ground and got out some of their nests and honey; he took a couple of the young bees and tied their feet together, and all these things he put into the corner of his blanket. When the bees were conquered he did not forget the wishes of his friend, the Spider Woman; he went around among the dead Eagles, and plucked as many plumes as he could grasp in both hands.
He set out on his return journey, and soon got back to the house of Spider Woman. He gave her the plumes and she said: “Thank you, my grandchild, you have brought me the plumes that I have long wanted to adorn my walls, and you have done a great service to your friends, the Eagles, because you have slain their enemies.” When she had spoken, he set out again on his journey.
He slept that night on the trail, and next morning he got back to the towns of the Eagles. As he approached he heard from afar the cries of the mourners, and when he entered the place the people gathered around him and said: “We have lost many of our kinsmen, and we are wailing for them; but we have been also mourning for you, for those who returned told us you had been killed in the fight.”
He made no reply, but took from his blanket the two young bumblebees and swung them around his head. All the people were terrified and ran, and they did not stop running till they got safely behind their houses. In a little while they got over their fear, came slowly from behind their houses, and crowded around the Navaho again. A second time he swung the bees around his head, and a second time the people ran away in terror; but this time they only went as far as the front walls of their houses, and soon they returned again to the Navaho. The third time that he swung the bees around his head they were still less frightened, ran but half way to their houses, and returned very soon. The fourth time that he swung the bees they only stepped back a step or two. When their courage came back to them, he laid the two bees on the ground; he took out the seeds of the tumble-weeds and laid them on the ground beside the bees, and then he said to the Eagle People: “My friends, here are the children of your enemies; when you see these you may know that I have slain your enemies.” There was great rejoicing among the people when they heard this, and this one said: “It is well. They have slain my brother,” and that one said: “It is well. They have slain my father,” and another said: “It is well. They have slain my sons.” Then Great Wolf, chief of the white pueblo, said: “I have two beautiful maiden daughters whom I shall give to you.” Then Fox, chief of the blue pueblo in the south, promised him two more maidens, and the chiefs of the other pueblos promised him two each, so that eight beautiful maidens were promised to him in marriage.
The chief of the white pueblo now conducted the Navaho to his house and into a large and beautiful apartment, the finest the poor Indian had ever seen. It had a smooth wall, nicely coated with white earth, a large fireplace, mealing-stones, beautiful pots and water-jars, and all the conveniences and furniture of a beautiful pueblo home. And the chief said to him: “Sadáni, my son-in-law, this house is yours.”
The principal men from all the pueblos now came to visit him, and thanked him for the great service he had done for them. Then his maidens from the yellow house came in bringing corn meal; the maidens from the black house entered bringing soap-weed, and the maidens of the white house, where he was staying, came bearing a large bowl of white shell. A suds of the soap-weed was prepared in the shell bowl. The maidens of the white house washed his head with the suds; the maidens of the black house washed his limbs and feet, and those of the yellow house dried him with corn meal. When the bath was finished the maidens went out; but they returned at dark, accompanied this time by the maidens of the blue house. Each of the eight maidens carried a large bowl of food, and each bowl contained food of a different kind. They laid the eight bowls down before the Navaho, and he ate of all till he was satisfied. Then they brought in beautiful robes and blankets, and spread them on the floor for his bed.
Next morning the Navaho went over to the sky-hole, taking with him the young bees and the seeds of the tumble-weeds. To the former he said: “Go down to the land of the Navaho and multiply there. My people will make use of you in the days to come; but if you ever cause them sorrow and trouble, as you have caused the people of this land, I shall again destroy you.” As he spoke, he flung them down to the earth. Then taking the seeds of the tumble-weeds in his hands, he spoke to them as he had spoken to the bees, and threw them down through the sky-hole. The honey of the bees and the seeds of the tumble-weeds are now used in the rites of the bead chant.
The Navaho remained in the pueblos of the Eagle People twenty-four days, during which time he was taught the songs, prayers, ceremonies, and sacrifices of the Eagles, the same as those now known to us in the rite of the bead chant; and when he had learned all, the people told him it was time for him to return to the earth, whence he had come.
They put on him a robe of eagle plumage, such as they wore themselves, and led him to the sky-hole. They said to him: “When you came up from the lower world you were heavy and had to be carried by others. Henceforth you will be light and can move through the air with your own power.” He spread his wings to show that he was ready; the Eagles blew a powerful breath behind him; he went down through the sky-hole, and was wafted down on his outstretched wings until he lit on the summit of Tsótsil.
He went back to his own relations among the Navahos; but when he went back everything about their lodge smelt ill; its odors were intolerable to him, and he left it and sat outside. They built for him then a medicine-lodge where he might sit by himself. They bathed his younger brother, clothed him in new raiment, and sent him, too, into the lodge, to learn what his elder brother could tell him. The brothers spent twelve days in the lodge together, during which the elder brother told his story and instructed the younger in all the rites and songs learned among the Eagles.
After this he went to visit the pueblo of Kintyel, whose inmates had before contemplated such treachery to him; but they did not recognize him. He now looked sleek and well fed. He was beautifully dressed and comely in his person, for the Eagles had moulded in beauty, his face and form. The Pueblo people never thought that this was the poor beggar whom they had left to die in the eagles’ nest. He noticed that there were many sore and lame in the pueblo. A new disease, they told him, had broken out among them. This was the disease which they had caught from the feathers of the eaglets when they were attacking the nest. “I have a brother,” said the Navaho, “who is a potent shaman. He knows a rite that will cure this disease.” The people of the pueblo consulted together and concluded to employ his brother to perform the ceremony over their suffering ones.
The Navaho said that he must be one of the first dancers, and that in order to perform the rite properly he must be dressed in a very particular way. He must, he said, have strings of fine beads—shell and turquoise—sufficient to cover his legs and forearms completely, enough to go around his neck, so that he could not bend his head back, and great strings to pass over the shoulder and under the arm on each side. He must have the largest shell basin to be found in either pueblo to hang on his back, and the one next in size to hang on his chest. He must have their longest and best strings of turquoise to hang to his ears. The Wind told him that the greatest shell basin they had was so large that if he tried to embrace it around the edge, his finger-tips would scarcely meet on the opposite side, and that this shell he must insist on having. The next largest shell, Wind told him, was but little smaller.
Three days after this conference, people began to come in from different pueblos in the Chaco Canyon and from pueblos on the banks of the San Juan,—all these pueblos are now in ruins—and soon a great multitude had assembled. Meantime, too, they collected shells and beads from the various pueblos in order to dress the first dancer as he desired. They brought him some great shell basins and told him these were what he wanted for the dance; but he measured them with his arms as Wind had told him, and, finding that his hands joined easily when he embraced the shells, he discarded them. They brought him larger and larger shells, and tried to persuade him that such were their largest; but he tried and rejected all. On the last day, with reluctance, they brought him the great shell of Kintyel and the great shell of Kindotliz. He clasped the first in his arms; his fingers did not meet on the opposite side. He clasped the second in his arms, and the tips of his fingers just met. “These,” said he, “are the shells I must wear when I dance.”
Four days before that on which the last dance was to occur, the Pueblo people sent out messengers to the neighboring camps of Navahos, to invite the latter to witness the exhibition of the last night and to participate in it with some of their alíli (dances or dramas). One of the messengers went to the Chelly Canyon and there he got Ganaskidi, with his son and daughter, to come and perform a dance. The other messengers started for the Navaho camp at the foot of Tsótsil on the south (near where Cobero is now). On his way he met an akáninili, or messenger, coming from Tstósil to invite the people of the Chaco Canyon to a great Navaho ceremony. The messengers exchanged bows and quivers as a sign they had met one another, and the messenger from Kintyel returned to his people without being able to get the Navahos to attend. This is the reason that, on the last night of the great ceremony of the bead chant, there are but few different dances or shows.
On the evening of the last day they built a great circle of branches, such as the Navahos build now for the rites of the mountain chant, and a great number of people crowded into the inclosure. They lighted the fires and dressed the first dancer in all their fine beads and shells just as he desired them to dress him. They put the great shell of Kintyel on his back, and the great shell of Kindotliz on his chest, and another fine shell on his forehead. Then the Navaho began to dance, and his brother, the medicine-man, began to sing, and this was the song he sang:—
The white-corn plant’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
The blue-corn plant’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
The yellow-corn plant’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
The black-corn plant’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
All-colored corn’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
The round-eared corn’s great ear sticks up.
Stay down and eat.
This seemed a strange song to the Pueblo people, and they all wondered what it could mean; but they soon found out what it meant, for they observed that the dancing Navaho was slowly rising from the ground. First his head and then his shoulders appeared above the heads of the crowd; next his chest and waist; but it was not until his whole body had risen above the level of their heads that they began to realize the loss that threatened them. He was rising toward the sky with the great shell of Kintyel, and all the wealth of many pueblos in shell-beads and turquoise on his body. Then they screamed wildly to him and called him by all sorts of dear names—father, brother, son—to come down again, but the more they called the higher he rose. When his feet had risen above them they observed that a streak of white lightning passed under his feet like a rope, and hung from a dark cloud that gathered above. It was the gods that were lifting him; for thus, the legends say, the gods lift mortals to the sky. When the Pueblos found that no persuasions could induce the Navaho to return, some called for ropes that they might seize him and pull him down; but he was soon beyond the reach of their longest rope. Then a shout was raised for arrows that they might shoot him; but before the arrows could come he was lost to sight in the black cloud and was never more seen on earth.
Navaho
IN THE BEGINNING Itc’tinaku considered how the people should live. She said to herself, “My old father and my old mother must go down to the people and be Clay Old Woman and Clay Old Man.” In Shipap1 she made the old man and woman into Clay Old Woman and Clay Old Man. The old woman began to mix the clay with sand and soften it with water. When she had finished she made it into a ball and wrapped it in a white manta. She began to coil a pot with her clay, and Clay Old Man danced beside her singing while she worked. All the people gathered in the village and watched her all day long. When she had made her pot so high (about eighteen inches) and the old man was singing and dancing beside her, he kicked it with his foot and it broke in many pieces. The old woman picked up his stick and chased him all around the plaza. She overtook him in the middle of the kiva. They made friends again and she took the broken pot and rolled it into a ball again. The old man took the pot and gave a piece of it to everybody in the village. They each took it and made pottery as Clay Old Woman had made it. This was the time they learned to make pottery. Clay Old Man told them never to forget to make pottery. In those days they only indented it with the marks of their fingers. Ever since, when we do not make pottery, these two masked dancers come with the dance to remind us of the clay they gave to the people. They tell us not to forget our grinding stones and always to grind our own corn flour.
Cochiti
THEY WERE LIVING IN COCHITI. They challenged each other to a display of their crops, and they asked Heluta to come to compete. They fasted for four days, and on the fourth day they sent to Heluta and said, “It is time to come to our village.” All the people of Cochiti gathered together but Heluta did not come. They sent a messenger again to hurry him. All the people had brought their harvests but Heluta did not bring any corn or muskmelons or gourds. They made fun of him and said, “What has he got to show off? He has not brought anything.” He came into the house where all the men were eating. The east room was filled with white corn, and the north room was filled with yellow corn; the west room was filled with blue corn, and the south room was filled with red corn, and the middle room was filled with spotted corn and with watermelons and muskmelons and all kinds of gourds. When they had looked at everything Heluta said, “Is this all?” “Yes.” “Now it is my turn to show you how I live.” He opened his little fawn-skin bag and took out a piece of cob with two or three kernels sticking to it. “This is what I live by.” They laughed at him. “What kind of a living is that? No melons and only a few little corn kernels!” Heluta said, “Wait. You will see which one makes the best living; you by all your work, or the man who has the power himself.” He went back to Shipap and he said, “In four days (years) you will find out.” The people tried to make him turn back, but they could not.
Next spring the people began to plant. Their corn and melons grew well, but there was no rain. By the middle of the summer everything was dried up and dead. The next year it was the same. For four years they planted, but every year the rain failed them and their crops were burned up by the sun.
In four years they were starving. They chose the fly as messenger and sent him to Shipap, to Heluta. He came into the center of the first room. In that room the sk’akuts katcinas were roasting corn. Whenever one of the kernels popped they all jumped. The fly flew past them into the second room and the third room and came to the fourth room. Heluta said to him, “What is it you have come to ask?” “They sent me to talk to you.” “You are foolish. You mustn’t come to find me whenever those people tell you to come to me. Come close.” The fly flew close to him. “Stick out your tongue.” He stuck out his tongue and Heluta pulled it out by the root. “Now go back and tell your people that you found me. I am not coming back to the village. I have told them already it is their own fault.”
Fly went back to the village. He tried to tell them what Heluta had said. He could not because he had lost his tongue. After that he could only say “buzz.” Heluta had said, “You will never talk anymore, you have no tongue.” The people said, “How can he tell us? He has no tongue. What shall we do?” “We will send Hummingbird to find Heluta.” They called Hummingbird and said, “Go and find Heluta and bring him back to the village.” Hummingbird went to Shipap. He flew into the first room where the sk’akuts katcinas were roasting corn. He flew into the second room and the third room. He came to Heluta. Heluta said to him, “What is it you have come to ask?” “I have come to bring you back to the village. The people need you. They want you to forgive what they have done to you. The children are dying of hunger and thirst. Now they have learned that it is by your power that they live.” Heluta said to Hummingbird, “Yes, my son, I will go back to the village. I am sorry for them. First they must hunt and bring me a deer from the north side of the mountains where the sun has never shone upon him. When they have taken this deer, send for me.” The people went hunting and caught a deer from the north side of the mountain upon whom the sun had never shone. They sent for Heluta and brought him to the village. They laid the deer before him. Heluta took it to Shipap. The clouds began to come up with thunder and lightning, and it rained. Since then there has always been rain in this country.
Heluta told them, “My seed is dewclaws. Whenever you kill a deer, do not throw these away, because these are my seed. Watch me, and you will see my field.” He took a great bunch of dewclaws and dug in the ground. He put each one in a hole in the earth. When he had finished, the first he had planted were already coming up above the ground. The people saw the small antlers of the deer. They watched them grow until they were full size and ran off to the mountains. Heluta called them all together and took them to Shipap and shut them up there. When they were full grown he opened the door and let them out over the mountains. So he is the father of all the deer.
Cochiti
ANON IN THE NETHERMOST of the four cave-wombs of the world, the seed of men and the creatures took form and increased; even as within eggs in warm places worms speedily appear, which growing, presently burst their shells and become as may happen, birds, tadpoles or serpents, so did men and all creatures grow manifoldly and multiply in many kinds. Thus the lowermost womb or cave-world, which was Anosin tehuli (the womb of sooty depth or of growth-generation, because it was the place of first formation and black as a chimney at night time, foul too, as the internals of the belly), thus did it become overfilled with being. Everywhere were unfinished creatures, crawling like reptiles one over another in filth and black darkness, crowding thickly together and treading each other, one spitting on another or doing other indecency, insomuch that loud became their murmurings and lamentations, until many among them sought to escape, growing wiser and more manlike.
Then came among men and the beings, it is said, the wisest of wise men and the foremost, the all-sacred master, Poshaiyankya, he who appeared in the waters below, even as did the Sun-father in the wastes above, and who arose from the nethermost sea, and pitying men still, won upward, gaining by virtue of his wisdom-knowledge issuance from that first world-womb through ways so dark and narrow that those who, seeing somewhat, crowded after, could not follow, so eager were they and so mightily did they strive with one another! Alone, then, he fared upward from one womb (cave) to another out into the great breadth of daylight. There the earth lay, like a vast island in the midst of the great waters, wet and unstable. And alone fared he forth dayward, seeking the Sun-father and supplicating him to deliver mankind and the creatures there below.
Then did the Sun-father take counsel within himself, and casting his glance downward espied, on the great waters, a Foam-cap near to the Earth-mother. With his beam he impregnated and with his heat incubated the Foam-cap, whereupon she gave birth to Uanam Achi Piahkoa, the Beloved Twain who descended; first, Uanam Ehkona, the Beloved Preceder, then Uanam Yaluna, the Beloved Follower, Twin brothers of Light, yet Elder and Younger, the Right and the Left, like to question and answer in deciding and doing. To them the Sun-father imparted, still retaining, control-thought and his own knowledge-wisdom, even as to the offspring of wise parents their knowingness is imparted and as to his right hand and his left hand a skillful man gives craft freely, surrendering not his knowledge. He gave them, of himself and their mother the Foam-cap, the great cloud-bow, and for arrows the thunderbolts of the four quarters, and for buckler the fog-making shield, which (spun of the floating clouds and spray and woven, as of cotton we spin and weave) supports as on wind, yet hides (as a shadow hides) its bearer, defending also. And of men and all creatures he gave them the fathership and dominion, also as a man gives over the control of his work to the management of his hands.
Well instructed of the Sun-father, they lifted the Sky-father with their great cloud-bow into the vault of the high zenith, that the earth might become warm and thus fitter for their children, men and the creatures. Then along the trail of the sun-seeking Poshaiyankya, they sped backward swiftly on their floating fog-shield, westward to the Mountain of Generation. With their magic knives of the thunderbolt they spread open the uncleft depths of the mountain, and still on their cloud-shield—even as a spider in her web descendeth—so descended they unerringly, into the dark of the under-world. There they abode with men and the creatures, attending them, coming to know them, and becoming known of them as masters and fathers, thus seeking the ways for leading them forth.
Now there were growing things in the depths, like grasses and crawling vines. So now the Beloved Twain breathed on the stems of these grasses (growing tall, as grass is wont to do toward the light, under the opening they had cleft and whereby they had descended), causing them to increase vastly and rapidly by grasping and walking round and round them, twisting them upward until lo! they reach forth even into the light. And where successively they grasped the stems, ridges were formed and thumb-marks whence sprang branching leaf-stems. Therewith the two formed a great ladder whereon men and creatures might ascend to the second cave-floor, and thus not be violently ejected in after-time by the throes of the Earth-mother, and thereby be made demoniac and deformed.
Up this ladder, into the second cave-world, men and the beings crowded, following closely the Two Little but Mighty Ones. Yet many fell back and, lost in the darkness, peopled the under-world, whence they were delivered in after-time amid terrible earth shakings, becoming the monsters and fearfully strange beings of olden time. Lo! in this second womb it was dark as is the night of a stormy season, but larger of space and higher than had been the first, because it was nearer the navel of the Earth-mother, hence named Kolin tehuli (the Umbilical-womb, or the Place of Gestation). Here again men and the beings increased and the clamor of their complainings grew loud and beseeching. Again the Two, augmenting the growth of the great ladder, guided them upward, this time not all at once, but in successive bands to become in time the fathers of the six kinds of men (the yellow, the tawny gray, the red, the white, the mingled, and the black races), and with them the gods and creatures of them all. Yet this time also, as before, multitudes were lost or left behind. The third great cave-world, whereunto men and the creatures had now ascended, being larger than the second and higher, was lighter, like a valley in starlight, and named Awisho tehuli—the Vaginal-womb, or the Place of Sex-generation or Gestation. For here the various peoples and beings began to multiply apart in kind one from another; and as the nations and tribes of men and the creatures thus waxed numerous as before, here, too, it became overfilled. As before, generations of nations now were led out successively (yet many lost, also as hitherto) into the next and last world-cave, Tepahaian tehuli, the Womb of Parturition.
Here it was light like the dawning, and men began to perceive and to learn variously according to their natures, wherefore the Twain taught them to seek first of all our Sun-father, who would, they said, reveal to them wisdom and knowledge of the ways of life— wherein also they were instructing them as we do little children. Yet, like the other cave-worlds, this too became, after long time, filled with progeny; and finally, at periods, the Two led forth the nations of men and the kinds of being, into this great upper world, which is called Tekohaian ulahnane, or the World of Disseminated Light and Knowledge or Seeing.
Eight years made the span of four days and four nights when the world was new. It was while yet such days and nights continued that men were led forth, first in the night, that it might be well. For even when they saw the great star, which since then is spoken of as the lying star, they thought it the Sun himself, so burned it their eyeballs! Men and the creatures were nearer alike then than now: black were our fathers the late-born of creation, like the caves from which they came forth; cold and scaly their skins like those of mud-creatures; goggled their eyes like those of an owl; membranous their ears like those of cave-bats; webbed their feet like those of walkers in wet and soft places; and according as they were elder or younger, they had tails, longer or shorter. They crouched when they walked, often indeed, crawling along the ground like toads, lizards and newts; like infants who still fear to walk straight, they crouched, as before-time they had in their cave-worlds, that they might not stumble and fall, or come to hurt in the uncertain light thereof. And when the morning star rose they blinked excessively as they beheld its brightness and cried out with many mouth-motionings that surely now the Father was coming; but it was only the elder of the Bright Ones, gone before with elder nations and with his shield of flame, heralding from afar (as we herald with wet shell scales or crystals) the approach of the Sun-father! And when, low down in the east the Sun-father himself appeared, what though shrouded in the midst of the great world waters, they were so blinded and heated by his light and glory that they cried out to one another in anguish and fell down wallowing and covering their eyes with their bare hands and arms. Yet ever anew they looked afresh to the light and anew struggled toward the sun as moths and other night creatures seek the light of a camp fire; yea, and though burned, seek ever anew that light!
Thus ere long they became used to the light, and to this high world they had entered. Wherefore, when they arose and no longer walked bended, lo! it was then that they first looked full upon one another and in horror of their filthier parts, strove to hide these, even from one another, with girdles of bark and rushes; and when by thus walking only upon their hinder feet the same became bruised and sore, they sought to protect them with plaited sandals of yucca fiber.
Zuni
IT WAS THUS, by much devising of ways, that men began to grow knowing in many things, and were instructed by what they saw, and so became wiser and better able to receive the words and gifts of their fathers and elder brothers, the gods, Twain and others, and priests. For already masters-to-be were amongst them. Even in the dark of the under-worlds such had come to be; as had, indeed, the various kinds of creatures-to-be, so these. And according to their natures they had found and cherished things, and had been granted gifts by the gods; but as yet they knew not the meaning of their own powers and possessions, even as children know not the meanings and right uses of the precious or needful things given them; nay nor yet the functions of their very parts! Now in the light of the Sun-father, persons became known from persons, and these things from other things; and thus the people came to know their many fathers among men, to know them by themselves or by the possessions they had.
Now the first and most perfect of all these fathers among men after Poshaiyankya was Yanauluha, who brought up from the under-world the water of the inner ocean, and seeds of life-production and growing things; in gourds he brought these up, and also things containing the “of-doing-powers.”
He who was named Yanauluha carried ever in his hand a staff which now in the daylight appeared plumed and covered with feathers of beautiful colors—yellow, blue-green, and red, white, black, and varied. Attached to it were shells and other potent contents of the under-world. When the people saw all these things and the beautiful baton, and heard the song-like tinkle of the sacred shells, they stretched forth their hands like little children and cried out, asking many questions.
Yanauluha, and other priests having been made wise by teaching of the masters of life with self-magic-knowing replied: “It is a staff of extension, wherewith to test the hearts and understandings of children.” Then he balanced it in his hand and struck with it a hard place and blew upon it. Amid the plumes appeared four round things, seeds of moving beings, mere eggs were they, two blue like the sky; two dun-red like the flesh of the Earth-mother.
Again the people cried out with wonder and ecstasy, and again asked they questions, many.
“These be,” said he who was named Yanauluha, “the seed of living things; both the cherishers and annoyancers, of summer time; choose ye without greed which ye will have for to follow! For from one twain shall issue beings of beautiful plumage, colored like the verdure and fruitage of summer; and whither they fly and ye follow, shall be everlastingly manifest summer, and without toil, the pain whereof ye ken not, fields full fertile of food shall flourish there. And from the other twain shall issue beings evil, uncolored, black, piebald with white; and whither these two shall fly and ye follow, shall strive winter with summer; fields furnished only by labor such as ye wot not of shall ye find there, and contended for between their offspring and yours shall be the food-fruits thereof.”
“The blue! the blue!” cried the people, and those who were most hasty and strongest strove for the blue eggs, leaving the other eggs for those who had waited. “See,” said they as they carried them with much gentleness and laid them, as one would the new-born, in soft sand on the sunny side of a cliff, watching them day by day, “precious seed!” And “Yea verily!” said they when the eggs cracked and worms issued, presently becoming birds with open eyes and with pinfeathers under their skins, “Verily we chose with understanding, for see! yellow and blue, red and green are their dresses, even seen through their skins!” So they fed the pair freely of the food that men favor—thus alas! cherishing their appetites for food of all kinds! But when their feathers appeared they were black with white bandings; for ravens were they! And they flew away mocking our fathers and croaking coarse laughs!
And the other eggs held by those who had waited and by their father Yanauluha, became gorgeous macaws and were wafted by him with a toss of his wand to the far southward summer-land. As father, yet child of the macaw, he chose as the symbol and name of himself and as father of these his more deliberate children—those who had waited—the macaw and the kindred of the macaw, the Mula-kwe; whilst those who had chosen the ravens became the Raven-people, or the Kaka-kwe.
Thus first was our nation divided into the People of Winter and the People of Summer. Of the Winter those who chose the raven, who were many and strong; and of the Summer those who cherished the macaw, who were fewer and less lusty, yet of prudent understanding because more deliberate. Hence, Yanauluha their father, being wise, saw readily the light and ways of the Sun-father, and being made partaker of his breath, thus became among men as the Sun-father is among the little moons of the sky; and speaker to and of the Sun-father himself, keeper and dispenser of precious things and commandments, Earliest Priest of the Sun. He and his sisters became also the seed of all priests who pertain to the Midmost clan-line of the priest fathers of the people themselves, “masters of the house of houses.” By him also, and his seed, were established and made good the priests-keepers of things.
The Twain Beloved and the priest fathers gathered in council for the naming and selection of man-groups and creature-kinds, spaces, and things. Thus determined they that the creatures and things of summer and the southern space pertained to the Southern people, or Children of the Producing Earth-mother; and those of winter and northern space, to the Winter people, or Children of the Forcing or Quickening Sky-father.
Of the Children of Summer, some loved and understood most the Sun, hence became the fathers of the Sun people. Some loved more the water, and became the Toad people, Turtle people, or Frog people, who so much love the water. Others, again loved the seeds of earth and became the People of Seed, such as those of the First-growing grass, and of the Tobacco. Yet still others loved the warmth and became the Fire or Badger people. According, then, to their natures and inclinations or their gifts from below or of the Masters of Life, they chose or were chosen for their totems.
Thus, too, it was with the People of Winter or the North. They chose, or were chosen and named, according to their resemblances or aptitudes; some as the Bear people, Coyote people, or Deer people; others as the Crane people, Turkey people, or Grouse people. In this wise it came to pass that the Ashiwe were divided of old in such wise as are their children today, into clans of brothers and sisters who may not marry one another, but from one to another of kin. Yea, and as the Earth-mother had increased and kept within herself all beings, cherishing them apart from their father even after they came forth, so were these our mothers and sisters made the keepers of the kin-names and of the seed thereof, nor may the children of each be cherished by any others of kin.
Now the Beloved Foremost Ones of these clans were prepared by instruction of the gods and the fathers of the house of houses and by being breathed of them, whereby they became ashiwani or priests also, but only the priests of possession, master keepers of sacred things and mysteries, each according to his nature of kinship. It was thus that the warmth-wanting Badger-people were given the great shell, the heart or navel of which is potent or sensitive of fire, as of the earthquake and the inner fire is the coiled navel of the Earth-mother. On the sunny sides of hills burrow the badgers, finding and dwelling amongst the dry roots whence is fire. Thus the “Two Badgers” were made keepers of the sacred heart-shell, makers and wardens of fire. So, too, were the Bear, Crane, and Grouse people given the muetone, or the contained seed-substance of hail, snow and new soil (for the bear sleeps, no longer guarding when winter comes, and with the returning crane, in the wake of the duck, comes winter in the trail of the white growing grouse). So, to the Toad and other water people, descended to them from Yanauluha the contained seed-substance of water; and to the All-seed-people, especially to the First-growing-grass people and the Tobacco people, was given of him also, the chuetone, or the contained seed-substance of corn grains.
Now when the foremost ones of more than one of these kin clans possessed a contained or sacred seed-substance, they banded together, forming a society for the better use and keeping of its medicine and its secret mysteries, and for the guidance and care thereby of their especial children. Thus, leading ones of the Bear people, Crane people, and Grouse people became the Hleeta-kwe, or Bearers of the Ice-wands as they are sometimes called, whose prayers and powers bring winter, yet ward off its evils to the flesh and fearsomeness to the soul. But at first, only four were the bands of priest-keepers of the mysteries: Shiwanakwe, or the Priesthood of Priest people; Saniakya-kwe, or the Priesthood of the Hunt, who were of the Coyote, Eagle, and Deer kin, keepers of the seed-substance of Game; Achiakyakwe, or the Great Knife people, makers and defenders of pathways for the people; and Newe-kwe, keepers of magic medicines and knowledge invincible of poison and other evil, whose first great father was Paiyatuma, God of Dew and the Dawn, himself. Out of these and of other clans were formed in later days by wisdom of the Father of Medicines and Rites (the great Poshaiyankya, when he returned, all as is told in other talk of our olden speech) all other societies. But when all was new, men did not know the meanings of their possessions, or even of the commandments; even as children know not the prayers. These they must first be taught, that in later days, when there is need therefor, they may know them and not be poor.
As it was with men and the creatures, so with the world; it was young and unripe. Unstable its surface was, like that of a marsh; dank, even the high places, like the floor of a cavern, so that seeds dropped on it sprang forth, and even the substance of offal became growing things.
Earthquakes shook the world and rent it. Beings of sorcery, demons and monsters of the under-world fled forth. Creatures turned fierce, becoming beasts of prey, wherefore others turned timid, becoming their quarry; wretchedness and hunger abounded, black magic, war, and contention entered when fear did into the hearts of men and the creatures. Yea, fear was everywhere among them, wherefore, everywhere the people, hugging in dread their precious possessions, became wanderers they, living on the seeds of grasses, eaters of dead and slain things! Yet still, they were guided by the Two Beloved, ever in the direction of the east, told and taught that they must seek, in the light and under the pathway of the Sun, the middle of the world, over which alone could they find the earth stable, or rest them and bide them in peace.
Zuni
And now indeed it is so.
At the New Year
Our fathers
Four times prepared their precious plume wands.
With their plume wands they took hold of me.
This many days
Anxiously we have awaited our time.
When the moon, who is our mother
Yonder in the west
As a small thing appeared,
Carrying our fathers’ precious plume wand,
With our own poor plume wand
Fastened to our fathers’ plume wand,
At the place called since the first beginning
Snow-hanging, or where snow hangs,
To our fathers,
Priests of the masked gods,
Culawitsi, pekwin priest,
Sayataca, bow priest,
Hututu, bow priest,
Yamuhaktu, bow priests,
To all the masked gods,
Our plume wands we gave.
Where they were to receive their plume wands,
All happily gathered together,
There we passed them on their roads.
This day
We shall give you plume wands.
Keeping your days,
Throughout the cycle of your months,
Throughout the summer,
Anxiously we shall await your time.
Our fathers,
Yonder toward the south
Wherever your roads come out,
We have given you plume wands.
When your springs were at an end,
Our fathers,
In their rain-filled room
Met together.
The flesh of their mother, cotton woman,
Four times counting up,
They gave their day counts human form.
Of our two fathers,
Sayataca, bow priest,
Molanhaktu, house chief,
They had need.
The two passed their fathers on their roads.
With the flesh of their mother,
Cotton woman,
Four times counted up, and given human form,
With this they took hold of them.
From where our fathers stay,
Carrying the day count
They made their roads go forth.
To their own houses
Their roads reached.
A little later
Carrying their fathers’ day count
With their plume wands fastened together,
They made their roads go forth.
Yonder we took our way.
At the place called since the first beginning,
Aiyayaka.
Our fathers,
Rain makers,
Our fathers,
Priests of the masked gods,
Where they were all gathered together,
We passed them on their roads.
Giving them our fathers’ plume wands,
Giving them their day count,
This many days
The days of their counting string,
Anxiously we have awaited our time.
When all their days were past,
When their day count was at an end
Again we prepared plume wands.
Carrying our plume wands
At the place called since the first beginning
Rock Face,
We passed our fathers on their roads.
Meeting our fathers,
We gave them plume wands.
Keeping their days
Anxiously waiting
We passed our days.
This many are the days.
And when their days were at an end,
Over there, following your springs,
We gave you plume wands.
When all your days are past,
Our fathers,
Priests of the masked gods,
Bow priests of the masked gods,
Culawitsi, pekwin priest,
Sayataca, bow priest,
Hututu, bow priest,
Yamuhaktu, bow priests,
Calako, bow priests,
All the masked gods
There from your home set with mountains,
Bringing your waters,
Bringing your seeds,
Bringing all your good fortune,
Our fathers,
You will make your roads come forth.
Yes, now every one of us will come forth.
Our fathers at Itiwana,
We shall pass on their roads.
Let no one be left behind.
All the men,
Those with snow upon their heads,
With moss upon their faces,
With bony knees,
No longer upright, but bent over canes,
Now all of us
Shall pass our fathers on their roads.
And the women,
With snow upon their heads,
Even those who are with child,
Carrying one on the back,
With another on the cradle board,
Leading one by the hand,
With yet another going before,
Even all of us
Shall pass you on your roads.
Indeed, it is so
The thoughts of our fathers,
Who at the New Year
With their precious plume wands
Appointed us,
Their thoughts we now fulfill.
This is all.
Thus with plain words we have passed you on your roads.
Now we fulfill the thoughts of our fathers.
Always with one thought
We shall live together.
This is all.
Thus with plain words we have passed you on your roads.
For whatever our fathers desired
When at the New Year
They sent forth their sacred words,
We have now fulfilled their thoughts.
To this end: My fathers,
My mothers,
My children,
Always with one thought
May we live together.
With your waters,
Your seeds,
Your riches,
Your power,
Your strong spirit,
All your good fortune,
With all this may you bless us.
Zuni
This story begins in the conventional manner by stating that the Hopi people were living at Palatkwabi. There was considerable disorder—too much gambling, too much dancing—and the women were completely out of hand. Town Chief, after praying to the Sun for guidance, returned home and informed his son that on the morrow morning the boy must run all around the big mountain south of Palatkwabi. “Do your best,” said Town Chief.
For three successive mornings the boy tried and failed. On the fourth morning, he succeeded. Town Chief congratulated him, and then told him that he must go out westward of the town and look for an antelope with two prongs. So, on the fifth morning, the boy did so. An antelope with two prongs fled away toward the big mountain, but the boy caught the animal and cut off the horn, returning with it to his father. “Tonight,” said the father, “when the sun goes down, you come to me. I will be here all day, keeping that horn.”
IN THE EVENING the boy went to his father’s house, and his father had something by him. It was a mask, painted green. There were four masks lying there. The other three looked very ugly. When the boy came in, he began to tell him what he was to do. “You go out to the north from the village, then go to the west. I will go out by the south, and then west.” They went by different directions, and then west, and they met and there his father fixed up the boy; he put an old antelope skin on his back. The good mask was at the bottom and the others on top, and then these four he put on his boy’s head. “Now you go near the village, and the people will know about it,” said the father. And he gave him some kind of fire. When he came close to the village somebody saw the fire coming, and it was coming closer, and the man got afraid and ran off. So the boy went around the village four times and then went off. So that man told them in the kiva that he had seen somebody with fire in his eyes and in his mouth. But the people did not believe it.
At night the boy came again, and that man and two others were standing outside the village and watching for him. They watched the fire coming closer, and then they all ran off, up to the house where some other men were watching. He was coming, but they were all frightened and ran away. When he got into the village, he went around four times again and they did not catch him. Next morning those men who saw him told about him. But the other men said, “We will go tonight and we will catch him.” So at night they went into the empty house. The man who first saw him went with some others to watch for him. Soon he was coming, and they went and told the others in the house. They saw him and they all ran away, they did not catch him. He went round the village again.
Next morning they were all in the kiva talking about it, “Well, we have all to go and we will catch the boy,” they said. Then the father said to the boy, “This will be the fourth night and they are going to catch you. Let them catch you. My son, I love you. You are supposed to be my leg and my hand and my heart. But I let you go and let the people kill you. We will all go after you. And I will not cry when they kill you. Nor do you cry when they kill you. I will tell them where to bury you.” Then the father told his wife to make soap-weed suds and wash the boy’s head. So in the evening the father put his beads around his neck and he told his boy, “Now you go a little earlier tonight.” So he dressed himself and went.
All those men of that kiva went into the empty house, waiting for what was to come. They were watching for him. Then he came again. The other men who watched before were watching. “He is coming,” they said to the men in the empty house. “Why did you not catch him?” they asked. “We were afraid of him.”—“Well, let us be brave men,” they said. When he went into the dance plaza they caught him and took him into the kiva. Then they made a big fire, for light. Then they took off the top mask and under it was another mask and they took it off and under it was another mask, and then they took off that third mask and there was that good mask, and that was Soyal kachina, Ahulani. He was dressed just as he is today, with a foxskin collar. Then they pulled it off, and there was that boy, Town Chief’s son. And they felt pretty bad about him. “Well, you kill me!” said the boy. “Do as you wish. If you cut my head off, that will be all right,” said the boy. Some of them did not want to kill him, but some said, “Why do we not kill him?” But the oldest man said, “Don’t kill him, but just let him go.” So they let him go; but they kept the mask in the kiva.
Well, the older men were crying because they knew something was going to happen. When they let him go, he went to his father’s house and his father said, “Thank you, they did not kill you. But you have to go,” said his father. At that time of night they were still practising in one of those kivas. Then the father gave him a smoke, and when he finished smoking then his father gave him something to eat. While he was eating, his mother came back, very happy. They had been having a good time. “Why did you not go?”—“Well, I did not want to go. Everybody was in there except you and your father,” she said. “Just because we did not want to go, we did not go.” She was tired from dancing, and went to sleep. But the father and son were sitting there.
Soon all the people went to sleep. “My son, take off your moccasins, all your leggings, also your shirt.” Then he tied a prayer-feather on his son’s head, and he tied two prayer-feathers on each horn. “Now let’s go,” he said. Then they went to the dance plaza, where was the shrine. He put his son inside of the shrine and he told his son, “You hold the horns down like this (pointing them to the ground), and then you will go down into the earth,” he said. The boy just pushed the horns down into the ground, and soon he was sinking into the ground. His father had said, “When all your head goes into the ground, hold up your hand and leave out four fingers and leave them all day. Next morning you put down one finger, next morning another finger, next morning another, fourth morning the last finger.”
So the boy sank down and held up his hand with four fingers up. In the morning somebody was passing by and he saw the hand sticking out of the ground inside the shrine with four fingers up. He looked at it closely. He went into the kiva and he said he had seen something. They asked him what it was. He said in the shrine a hand was sticking out and four fingers were up. Then the older men went to the shrine and saw it. And when they came back into the kiva they were talking about it. And some of them said, “You know last night you caught somebody and brought him here and that is he,” they said. Next morning they went to look at the hand. Only three fingers were up. They went into the kiva and talked about it. “Only three fingers are up; surely something is going to happen.” The third morning only two fingers were up. The fourth morning only one finger was up.
The fifth morning the last finger was gone. This morning the water began to come up from all the fireplaces. In the afternoon the water was coming out everywhere. In the dance plaza something was making a big noise. They said they were going to have a flood. Before evening something was coming from that place where the hand had been. It was the Horned Water Snake. That boy had turned into the snake, Palulukon. Before night the people were transporting their things to a height on the east side of the village. In the morning when they woke up a big Horned Water Snake was coming out from the dance place. Some houses were falling, water was everywhere. There were two old men living close together. One old man went into the house of the other old man. They could not come down. The water kept on rising. They went to a corner of the house and up on the beam where people used to keep things. They got up there and sat there together.
In the morning Palulukon was growing bigger and bigger; water was everywhere. One man said, “We have to give two children to that snake so he will go back. If we don’t give the children, he will never go back,” said the old man. “The boy will be the son of Crier Chief and the little girl, the daughter of War Chief.” Then they all began to make prayer-sticks and put them in a flat basket. Then in the afternoon they gave the basket to the little boy and said to him, “Take these prayer-sticks and give them to Palulukon. When you meet him, don’t be afraid, put your arms around him.” These two little children were brave enough to go, they went into the water and reached the snake and put their basket of prayer-sticks close to him and their arms around him. Then Palulukon sank right down into the water; he was going back and with him the boy and girl.
Crier Chief told the people, “We can move from here to some other place. We were too crazy, that is why this happened. So we have to go off and leave our village.” And so they started off towards Walpi. Well, they were going many days. Those old men sitting up on the house beam became turkeys and their tails were hanging down and the suds of the water touched their tails and they became white, and that is why the tips of turkey tails are white. After all the people went off, two little boys were left behind, and they were living way up in the fourth story, and while they were asleep, they were forgotten and left behind. Four days later the boys looked out and the water was going back into the hole the Horned Water Snake went into. Then the boys went down and around in all the houses and up in one house they went into, two turkeys were sitting. “Somebody has forgotten his turkeys,” said the older boy; the younger was just beginning to walk.
While the boys were going about, the older carrying the other on his back, Palulukon said, “I guess I better come up and see where my people have gone.” He came up and saw the people way off. They were by now far away. Those little boys were looking around and they went into the dance plaza and saw that big thing there. That big thing said, “Poor little boys, they left you.” And they were very much afraid of him. Palulukon told them not to be afraid of him. “I am your uncle,” he said, “Don’t be afraid of me, I am your uncle. Two old men have been left and they have turned into turkeys. You go into that room and pull out some feathers from each of them.” So they did. Then Palulukon said, “Go and follow the tracks of your people. They are far away, but you will overtake them some day.”
So they took some food along, and the turkey feathers and followed the people. They went on many days. They found two men staying under a tree; one was lame and he could not walk, and one man had legs, but he was blind. The little boys were frightened. The man with eyes told him not to be afraid. “We are people,” he said. “We will go all together.” So the blind man carried the lame man, and the little boy carried his younger brother.
They came to the forest and a deer was standing close to them, and the lame man had a bow and arrow in his hand and he saw the deer standing close to them. He said to the blind man, “Wait!” he said. “Why?”—“There is a deer standing close to us. Let me shoot him. We have nothing to eat tonight.” So the man with eyes shot the deer and killed him. And they stopped right there and made fire and skinned the deer and cooked the meat. That man said, “We will stop here all night and go on tomorrow morning.”
At night they put the deer-head by the fire. The eyes exploded with a noise and scared them. The man who could not walk jumped up and ran off and the blind man was so scared he opened his eyes and could see. He said, “I am very glad my eyes are open and I can see,” he said, and the other said, “I am very glad I can walk.” The man who had been blind said, “I must not go to sleep, if I sleep I will get blind again,” he said. “I must stay awake all night.” And the man who had been lame said, “I must not go to sleep. If I sleep, I will get stiff again. I must walk about all night,” he said. And so the blind man did not sleep, but kept his eyes open all night, and the other man walked all night. At sunrise the blind man said, “I guess I will not be blind again,” and the lame man said, “I will walk always.” Then after they ate their breakfast, each man took a boy on his back, and went on following their people.
It was a long time before they caught up with their people, at a place called Humulobi. Those people on their way from Palatkwabi took a rest every afternoon and before they rested they danced, they danced a harvest dance. They did that every day. At Humulobi they made a home and lived there a long time. But there were a lot of mosquitoes there and they were killing the babies. So they thought they would move again. So they started again, and every afternoon when they stopped, again they danced a harvest dance. That’s the way they came to Walpi. That is why the patki wungwe clan owns the harvest dance called lakunti, and that is how they first got turkeys.
Tewa