CONTENTS

Items in italics were added by the transcriber.

ILLUSTRATIONS

In the original book, the full-page Plates were interleaved with printed
pages. For this e-text, they have been placed as close as practical to
their referring text.

Plate LXXXII.
MAP OF PARTS OF THE NAVAHO RESERVATION
IN ARIZONA AND NEW MEXICO
from the atlas sheets of the
UNITED STATES GEOLOGICAL SURVEY

larger view

NAVAHO HOUSES

By Cosmos Mindeleff

INTRODUCTION

The account of the houses or hogáns of the Navaho Indians which is
presented here will be of interest to the student of architecture, it is
believed, because data concerning such primitive types of house
structures are quite rare. It is also thought to be of interest to the
archeologist and ethnologist as well as to the general reader, for it is
well known that no one product of a people’s art exhibits so clearly
their mental attitude and their industrial status as the houses which
they build.

Much of the material here presented was obtained some ten years ago,
when the recent changes which have taken place in Navaho life had only
just begun. Although the same processes are now employed in house
construction as formerly, and although the same ceremonies are observed,
they are not so universally nor so strictly adhered to as they were. The
present tendency is such that in a comparatively short time the rules
for the construction of a hogán which have been handed down through many
generations and closely followed, and the elaborate ceremonies of
dedication which formerly were deemed essential to the well-being of the
occupants, will be so far modified as to be no longer recognizable, if,
indeed, they are not altogether abandoned. Such being the case, even a
bare record of the conditions which have prevailed for at least two
centuries must be of value.

As the architecture of a primitive people is influenced largely by
the character of the country in which they live, a brief description of
the Navaho reservation is deemed necessary. Similarly, the habits of
life of the people, what a naturalist would term their life history,
which in combination with the physical environment practically dictates
their arts, is worthy of notice, for without some knowledge of the
conditions under which a people live it is difficult, if not impossible,
to obtain an adequate conception of their art products.

The winter hogáns are the real homes of the people, but as the form
and construction of these are dictated by certain rules and a long line
of precedents, supported by a conservatism which is characteristic of
savage life, the summer shelters, which are largely exempt from such
rules, are of considerable interest. Moreover, the effects of modern
conditions and the breaking down of the old ideas should have
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some place in a discussion of this kind, if only for the hint afforded
as to the future of the tribe.

The elaborate ceremonies of dedication which in the old days always
followed the construction of a house, and are still practiced, exhibit
almost a new phase of Indian culture. The essentially religious
character of the Indian mind, and his desire to secure for himself and
for his family those benefits which he believes will follow from the
establishment of a perfect understanding with his deities—in other
words, from the rendering of proper homage to benignant deities and the
propitiation of the maleficent ones—are exhibited in these
ceremonies. The sketch of them which is here given, the songs which form
a part of the ceremony, and the native explanations of some of the
features will, it is believed, assist to a better understanding of
Indian character.

Finally, the rather full nomenclature of parts and elements of the
house which forms the last section of this memoir will probably be of
service to those who find in language hints and suggestions, or perhaps
direct evidence, of the various steps taken by a people in the course of
their development. As the writer is not competent to discuss the data
from that point of view, it is presented here in this form for the
benefit of those who are. Some suggestions of the derivation of various
terms are given, but only as suggestions.

Much of the material which is comprised in this report was collected
by the late A. M. Stephen, who lived for many years among the Navaho.
His high standing and universal popularity among these Indians gave him
opportunities for the collection of data of this kind which have seldom
been afforded to others. Some of the notes and sketches of Mr Victor
Mindeleff, whose studies of Pueblo architecture are well known, have
been utilized in this report. The author is indebted to Dr Washington
Matthews, the well-known authority on the Navaho Indians, for revising
the spelling of native terms occurring throughout the text.

In the present paper two spellings of the Navaho word for hut are
used. The proper form is qoġán, but in and around the Navaho
country it has become an adopted English word under the corrupt form
hogán. Thus nearly all the whites in that region pronounce and
spell it, and many of the Indians, to be easily understood by whites,
are pronouncing it lately in the corrupted form. Therefore, wherever the
term is employed as an adopted English word, the form hogán is
given, but where it is used as part of a Navaho phrase or compound word
the strictly correct form qoġán is preserved.

An inverted comma (‘) following a vowel shows that the vowel is
aspirated.

An inverted comma following l shows that the l‘ is
aspirated in a peculiar manner—more with the side than with the
tip of the tongue.

ŋ represents the nasalized form of
n.

ġ represents the Arabic ghain.

In other respects the alphabet of the Bureau is followed.

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY

The Navaho reservation comprises an extensive area in the extreme
northeastern part of Arizona and the northwestern corner of New Mexico
(plate LXXXII). The total area is over 11,000 square
miles, of which about 650 square miles are in New Mexico; but it would
be difficult to find a region of equal size and with an equal population
where so large a proportion of the land is so nearly worthless. This
condition has had an important effect on the people and their arts, and
especially on their houses.

The region may be roughly characterized as a vast sandy plain, arid
in the extreme; or rather as two such plains, separated by a chain of
mountains running northwest and southeast. In the southern part of the
reservation this mountain range is known as the Choiskai mountains, and
here the top is flat and mesa-like in character, dotted with little
lakes and covered with giant pines, which in the summer give it a
park-like aspect. The general elevation of this plateau is a little less
than 9,000 feet above the sea and about 3,000 feet above the valleys or
plains east and west of it.

The continuation of the range to the northwest, separated from the
Choiskai only by a high pass, closed in winter by deep snow, is known as
the Tunicha mountains. The summit here is a sharp ridge with pronounced
slopes and is from 9,000 to 9,400 feet high. On the west there are
numerous small streams, which, rising near the summit, course down the
steep slopes and finally discharge through Canyon Chelly into the great
Chinlee valley, which is the western of the two valleys referred to
above. The eastern slope is more pronounced than the western, and its
streams are so small and insignificant that they are hardly worthy of
mention.

Still farther to the northwest, and not separated from the Tunicha
except by a drawing in or narrowing of the mountain mass, with no
depression of the summit, is another part of the same range, which bears
a separate name. It is known as the Lukachukai mountains. Here something
of the range character is lost, and the uplift becomes a confused mass,
a single great pile, with a maximum altitude of over 9,400 feet.

Northwest of this point the range breaks down into Chinlee valley,
but directly to the north is another uplift, called the Carriso
mountains. It is a single mass, separated from the range proper by a
comparatively low area of less than 7,000 feet altitude, while the
Carriso itself is over 9,400 feet above the sea.

The western and northwestern parts of the reservation might also be
classed as mountainous. Here there is a great mesa or elevated
table-land, cut and gashed by innumerable canyons and gorges, and with a
general elevation of 7,500 to 8,000 feet. Throughout nearly its whole
extent it is impassable to wagons.

The valleys to which reference has been made are the Chinlee on the west
and the Chaco on the east of the principal mountain range described.
Both run nearly due north, and the former has a fall of about 2,000 feet
from the divide, near the southern reservation line, to the northern
boundary, a distance of about 85 miles. Chaco valley heads farther south
and discharges into San Juan river within the reservation. It has less
fall than the Chinlee. Both valleys are shown on the maps as occupied by
rivers, but the rivers materialize only after heavy rains; at all other
times there is only a dry, sandy channel. Chaco “river,” which heads in
the continental divide, carries more water than the Chelly, which
occupies Chinlee valley, and is more often found to contain a little
water. The valleys have a general altitude of 5,000 to 6,000 feet above
the sea.

The base of the mountain range has an average breadth of only 12
or 15 miles, and it is a pronounced impediment to east-and-west
communication. It is probably on this account that the Navaho are
divided into two principal bands, under different leaders. Those of one
band seldom travel in the territory of the other. The Navaho of the
west, formerly commanded by old Ganamucho (now deceased), have all the
advantages in regard to location, and on the whole are a finer body of
men than those of the east.

On the west the mountains break down into Chinlee valley by a gradual
slope—near the summit quite steep, then running out into
table-lands and long foothills. This region is perhaps the most
desirable on the reservation, and is thickly inhabited. On the east the
mountains descend by almost a single slope to the edge of the
approximately flat Chaco valley. In a few rods the traveler passes from
the comparatively fertile mountain region into the flat, extremely arid
valley country, and in 50 or 60 miles’ travel after leaving the
mountains he will not find wood enough to make his camp fire, nor,
unless he moves rapidly, water enough to carry his horses over the
intervening distance.

Throughout the whole region great scarcity of water prevails; in the
large valleys during most of the year there is none, and it is only in
the mountain districts that there is a permanent supply; but there life
is almost impossible during the winter. This condition has had much to
do with the migratory habits of the people, or rather with their
frequent moving from place to place; for they are not a nomadic people
as the term is usually employed. This is one of the reasons why the
Navaho have no fixed habitations.

San Juan river forms a short section of the northeastern boundary of
the Navaho country, and this is practically the only perennial stream to
which they have access. It is of little use to them, however, as there
are no tributaries from the southern or reservation side, other than the
Chaco and Chelly “rivers,” which are really merely drainage channels and
are dry during most of the year. The eastern slope of the mountain range
gives rise to no streams, and the foot of the range
479
on that side is as dry and waterless as the valley itself. One may
travel for 20 miles over this valley and not find a drop of water.
Except at Sulphur springs, warm volcanic springs about 30 miles south of
the San Juan, the ordinary traveler will not find sufficient water
between the foot of the mountains and the river, a distance of over 50
miles. Such is the character of Chaco valley. But the Indians know of a
few holes and pockets in this region which yield a scanty supply of
water during parts of the year, and somewhere in the vicinity of these
pockets will be found a hogán or two.

Chaco wash or river, like most of the large drainage channels of this
country, has a permanent underflow, and by digging wells in the dry,
sandy bed it is often possible to obtain a limited supply of water. This
is well known to the Navaho, and 90 per cent of the houses of this
region are located within reach of the wash, whence the supply of water
which the Navaho deems essential is procured.

On the western slope of the mountains and in the canyons and cliffs
of the high table-lands which form the western part of the reservation,
the water supply, while still scanty, is abundant as compared with the
eastern part. In the mountains themselves there are numerous small
streams, some of which carry water nearly all the year; while here and
there throughout the region are many diminutive springs almost or quite
permanent in character. Most of the little streams rise near the crest
of the mountains and, flowing westward, are collected in a deep canyon
cut in the western slope, whence the water is discharged into Chinlee
valley, and traversing its length in the so-called Rio de Chelly,
finally reaches San Juan river. But while these little streams are
fairly permanent up in the mountains, their combined flow is seldom
sufficient, except in times of flood, to reach the mouth of Canyon
Chelly and Chinlee valley. However, here, as in the Chaco, there is an
underflow, which the Indians know how to utilize and from which they can
always obtain a sufficient supply of potable water.

The whole Navaho country lies within what the geologists term the
Plateau region, and its topography is dictated by the peculiar
characteristics of that area. The soft sandstone measures, which are its
most pronounced feature, appear to lie perfectly horizontal, but in fact
the strata have a slight, although persistent dip. From this peculiarity
it comes about that each stratum extends for miles with an unbroken
sameness which is extremely monotonous to the traveler; but finally its
dip carries it under the next succeeding stratum, whose edge appears as
an escarpment or cliff, and this in turn stretches out flat and
uninteresting to the horizon. To the eye it appears an ideal country for
traveling, but only a very slight experience is necessary to reveal its
deceptiveness. Everywhere the flat mesas are cut and seamed by gorges
and narrow canyons, sometimes impassable even to a horse. Except along a
few routes which have been established here and there, wagon travel is
extremely difficult and often impossible. It
480
is not unusual for a wagon to travel 50 or 60 miles between two points
not 20 miles distant from each other.

The high mountain districts are characterized by a heavy growth of
giant pines, with firs and spruce in the highest parts, and many groves
of scrub oak. The pines are abundant and make excellent lumber. Going
downward they merge into piñons, useful for firewood but valueless as
timber, and these in turn give place to junipers and cedars, which are
found everywhere throughout the foothills and on the high mesa lands.
The valleys proper, and the low mesas which bound them, are generally
destitute of trees; their vegetation consists only of sagebrush and
greasewood, with a scanty growth of grass in favorable spots.

To the traveler in the valley the country appears to consist of sandy
plains bounded in the distance by rocky cliffs. When he ascends to the
higher plateaus he views a wide landscape of undulating plain studded
with wooded hills, while from the mountain summits he looks down upon a
land which appears to be everywhere cut into a network of jagged
canyons—a confused tangle of cliffs and gorges without system.

For a few weeks in early summer the table-lands are seen in their
most attractive guise. The open stretches of the mesas are carpeted with
verdure almost hidden under a profusion of flowers. The gray and dusty
sagebrush takes on a tinge of green, and even the prickly and repulsive
greasewood clothes itself with a multitude of golden blossoms. Cacti of
various kinds vie with one another in producing the most brilliant
flowers, odorless but gorgeous. But in a few weeks all this brightness
fades and the country resumes the colorless monotonous aspect which
characterizes it.

July and August and sometimes part of September comprise the rainy
season. This period is marked by sudden heavy showers of short duration,
and the sandy soil absorbs sufficient moisture to nourish the grass and
herbage for a time; but most of the water finds its way directly into
deep-cut channels and thence in heavy torrents to the deep canyons of
the San Juan and the Colorado, where it is lost. A small portion of the
rainfall and much of the snow water percolates the soil and the porous
sandstones which compose the region, and issues in small springs along
the edges of the mesas and in the little canyons; but these last only a
few months, and they fail in the time of greatest need—in the hot
summer days when the grass is dry and brittle and the whole country is
parched.

The direct dependence of the savage on nature as he finds it is
nowhere better illustrated than on the Navaho reservation. In the three
essentials of land, water, and vegetation, his country is not an ideal
one. The hard conditions under which he lives have acted directly on his
arts and industries, on his habits and customs, and also on his mind and
his mythology. In one respect only has he an advantage: he is blessed
with a climate which acts in a measure as an offset
481
to the other conditions and enables him to lead a life which is on the
whole not onerous.

In these dry elevated regions the heat is never oppressive in the day
and the nights are always cool. Day temperatures of 120° or more are not
uncommon in the valleys in July and August, but the humidity is so
slight that such high readings do not produce the discomfort the figures
might imply. In his calico shirt and breeches the Navaho is quite
comfortable, and in the cool of the evening and night he has but to add
a blanket, which he always has within reach. The range between the day
and night temperature in summer is often very great, but the houses are
constructed to meet these conditions; they are cool in hot weather and
warm in cold weather.

The extreme dryness of the air has another advantage from the Indian
point of view, in that it permits a certain degree of filthiness. This
seems inseparable from the Indian character, but it would be impossible
in a moist climate; even under the favorable conditions of the plateau
country many of the tribes are periodically decimated by smallpox.

HABITS OF THE PEOPLE

The habits of a people, which are to a certain extent the product of
the country in which they live, in turn have a pronounced effect on
their habitations. New Mexico and Arizona came into the possession of
the United States in 1846, and prior to that time the Navaho lived
chiefly by war and plunder. The Mexican settlers along the Rio Grande
and the Pueblo Indians of the same region were the principal
contributors to their welfare, and the thousands of sheep and horses
which were stolen from these people formed the nucleus or starting point
of the large flocks and herds which constitute the wealth of the Navaho
today.

The Navajo reservation is better suited for the raising of sheep than
for anything else, and the step from the life of a warrior and hunter to
that of a shepherd is not a long one, nor a hard one to take. Under the
stress of necessity the Navajo became a peaceable pastoral tribe, living
by their flocks and herds, and practicing horticulture only in an
extremely limited and precarious way. Under modern conditions they are
slowly developing into an agricultural tribe, and this development has
already progressed far enough to materially affect their house
structures; but in a general way it may be said that they are a pastoral
people, and their habits have been dictated largely by that mode of
life.

Every family is possessed of a flock of sheep and goats, sometimes
numbering many thousands, and a band of horses, generally several
hundreds, in a few instances several thousands. In recent times many
possess small herds of cattle, the progeny of those which strayed into
the reservation from the numerous large herds in its vicinity, or were
picked up about the borders by some Navaho whose thrift was more
482
highly developed than his honesty. The condition of the tribe, as a
whole, is not only far removed from hardship, but may even be said to be
one of comparative affluence.

Owing to the scarcity of grass over most of the country, and the
difficulty of procuring a sufficient supply of water, the flocks must be
moved from place to place at quite frequent intervals. This condition
more than any other has worked against the erection of permanent houses.
Yet the Navaho are by no means nomads, and the region within which a
given family moves back and forth is extremely circumscribed.

In a general way the movements of a family are regulated by the
condition of the grass and the supply of water. In a dry season many of
the small springs cease to flow at an early date in the summer.
Moreover, if a flock is kept too long in one locality, the grass is
almost destroyed by close cropping, forcing the abandonment of that
particular place for two or three years. When this occurs, the place
will recover and the grass become good again if left entirely
undisturbed for several years.

The usual practice is to take the flocks up into the mountains or on
the high plateaus during the summer, quartering them near some spring or
small stream, and when the snow comes they are moved down to the lower
foothills or out into the valleys. In the winter both shepherds and
sheep depend on the snow for their water supply, and by this means an
immense tract of country, which otherwise would be a perfect waste, is
utilized. As the snow disappears from the valleys the flocks are
gradually driven back again into the mountains.

The heavy fall of snow in the mountains and its slow melting in
spring makes that region far more fertile and grassy than the valleys,
and were it possible to remain there throughout the year doubtless many
families would do so. As it is, however, the feed is covered too deeply
for the sheep to reach it, and during several months heavy snowdrifts
make communication very difficult and at times impossible. In a few
favored localities—usually small, well-sheltered valleys here and
there in the mountains—some families may remain throughout the
winter, but as a rule, at the first approach of the cold season and
before the first snow flies there is a general exodus to the low-lying
valleys and the low mesa regions, and the mountains are practically
abandoned for a time.

During the rainy season pools and little lakes of water are formed
all over the flat country, lasting sometimes several weeks. Advantage is
taken of the opportunity thus afforded and the flocks are driven out on
the plains and grazed in the vicinity of the water so long as the supply
holds out, but as this is seldom prolonged more than a few weeks it is
not surprising that the house erected by the head of the family should
be of a very temporary nature. In fact the most finished house
structures of these people must be temporary rather than
483
permanent so long as the conditions sketched above prevail; in other
words, so long as they depend principally on their sheep.

Another result of these conditions is that each family lives by
itself and, as it were, on its own ground. Large communities are
impossible, and while there are instances where eight or ten families
occupy some place of exceptionally favorable location, these are rare.
In fact to see even three or four hogáns together is remarkable. There
are perhaps more hogáns in Canyon Chelly than in any other one locality,
but the people who live here are regarded by the other Navaho as poor,
because they own but few sheep and horses and depend principally on
horticulture for their subsistence. Incidentally it may be stated that
horses are well esteemed by the Navaho as an article of food, and that
the large herds which some of them own are not so wholly useless as they
appear to the casual traveler.

Canyon Chelly, which the Navaho call Tségi, contains several small
streams and numerous patches of arable land on the bottoms. The
conditions here are exceptionally favorable for horticulture; indeed,
the numerous remains of cliff dwellings which are found in the canyon
would show this if other evidence were lacking. It has long been famous
among the Navaho as the horticultural center of the tribe, and for its
peach crops, derived from thousands of trees planted in sheltered nooks.
In the summer scattered members of the various families or clans gather
there by hundreds from every part of the reservation to feast together
for a week or two on green corn, melons, and peaches.

As a rule, however, each hogán stands by itself, and it is usually
hidden away so effectually that the traveler who is not familiar with
the customs of the people might journey for days and not see half a
dozen of them. The spot chosen for a dwelling place is either some
sheltered nook in a mesa or a southward slope on the edge of a piñon
grove near a good fuel supply and not too far from water. A house is
very seldom built close to a spring—perhaps a survival of the
habit which prevailed when the people were a hunting tribe and kept away
from the water holes in order not to disturb the game which frequented
them.

So prevalent is this custom of placing the houses in out-of-the-way
places that the casual traveler receives the impression that the region
over which he has passed is practically uninhabited. He may, perhaps,
meet half a dozen Indians in a day, or he may meet none, and at sunset
when he camps he will probably hear the bark of a dog in the distance,
or he may notice on the mountain side a pillar of smoke like that
arising from his own camp fire. This is all that he will see to indicate
the existence of other life than his own, yet the tribe numbers over
12,000 souls, and it is probable that there was no time during the day
when there were not several pairs of eyes looking at him, and were he to
fire his gun the report would probably be heard by several hundred
persons. Probably this custom of half-concealed habitations is a
484
survival from the time when the Navaho were warriors and plunderers, and
lived in momentary expectation of reprisals on the part of their
victims.

Although the average Navaho family may be said to be in almost
constant movement, they are not at all nomads, yet the term has
frequently been applied to them. Each family moves back and forth within
a certain circumscribed area, and the smallness of this area is one of
the most remarkable things in Navaho life.

Ninety per cent of the Navaho one meets on the reservation are
mounted and usually riding at a gallop, apparently bent on some
important business at a far-distant point. But a closer acquaintance
will develop the fact that there are many grown men in the tribe who are
entirely ignorant of the country 30 or 40 miles from where they were
born. It is an exceptional Navaho who knows the country well 60 miles
about his birthplace, or the place where he may be living, usually the
same thing. It is doubtful whether there are more than a few dozens of
Navaho living west of the mountains who know anything of the country to
the east, and vice versa. This ignorance of what we may term the
immediate vicinity of a place is experienced by every traveler who has
occasion to make a long journey over the reservation and employs a
guide. But he discovers it only by personal experience, for the guide
will seldom admit his ignorance and travels on, depending on meeting
other Indians living in that vicinity who will give him the required
local knowledge. This peculiar trait illustrates the extremely
restricted area within which each “nomad” family lives.

Now and then one may meet a family moving, for such movements are
quite common. Usually each family has at least two locations—not
definite places, but regions—and they move from one to the other
as the necessity arises. In such cases they take everything with them,
including flocks of sheep and goats and herds of ponies and cattle, if
they possess any. The qasçíŋ, as the head of the family is
called, drives the ponies and cattle, the former a degenerate lot of
little beasts not much larger than an ass, but capable of carrying a man
in an emergency 100 miles in a day. He carries his arms, for the coyotes
trouble the sheep at night, two or three blankets, and a buckskin on his
saddle, but nothing more. It is his special duty to keep the ponies
moving and in the trail. Following him comes a flock of sheep and goats,
bleating and nibbling at the bushes and grass as they slowly trot along,
urged by the dust-begrimed squaw and her children. Several of the more
tractable ponies carry packs of household effects stuffed into buckskin
and cotton bags or wrapped in blankets, a little corn for food, the rude
blanket loom of the woman, baskets, and wicker bottles, and perhaps a
scion of the house, too young to walk, perched on top of all. Such a
caravan is always accompanied by several dogs—curs of unknown
breed, but invaluable aids to the women and children in herding the
flocks.

Under the Navaho system descent is in the female line. The children
belong to the mother, and likewise practically all property except
horses and cattle. Sheep and goats belong exclusively to her, and the
head of the family can not sell a sheep to a passing traveler without
first obtaining the consent and approval of his wife. Hence in such a
movement as that sketched above the flocks are looked after by the
women, while under normal circumstances, when the family has settled
down and is at home, the care of the flocks devolves almost entirely on
the little children, so young sometimes that they can just toddle
about.

The waters are usually regarded by the Navaho as the common property
of the tribe, but the cultivable lands in the vicinity are held by the
individuals and families as exclusively their own. Their flocks occupy
all the surrounding pasture, so that virtually many of the springs come
to be regarded as the property of the people who plant nearest to
them.

In early times, when the organization of the people into clans was
more clearly defined, a section of territory was parceled out and held
as a clan ground, and some of the existing clans took their names from
such localities. Legends are still current among the old men of these
early days before the introduction of sheep and goats and horses by the
Spaniards, when the people lived by the chase and on wild fruits, grass
seeds, and piñon nuts, and such supplies as they could plunder from
their neighbors. Indian corn or maize was apparently known from the
earliest time, but so long as plunder and the supply of game continued
sufficient, little effort was made to grow it. Later as the tribe
increased and game became scarcer, the cultivation of corn increased,
but until ten years ago more grain was obtained in trade from the
Pueblos than was grown in the Navaho country. There are now no defined
boundaries to the ancient clan lands, but they are still recognized in a
general way and such a tract is spoken of as “my mother’s land.”

Families cling to certain localities and sections not far apart, and
when compelled, by reason of failure of springs or too close cropping of
the grass, to go to other neighborhoods, they do not move to the new
place as a matter of right, but of courtesy; and the movement is never
undertaken until satisfactory arrangements have been concluded with the
families already living there.

Some of the Pueblo tribes, the Hopi or Moki, for example, have been
subjected to much the same conditions as the Navaho; but in this case
similarity of conditions has produced very dissimilar results, that is,
as regards house structures. The reasons, however, are obvious, and lie
principally in two distinct causes—antecedent habits and personal
character. The Navaho are a fine, athletic race of men, living a free
and independent life. They are without chiefs, in the ordinary meaning
of the term, although there are men in the tribe who occupy prominent
positions and exercise a kind of semiauthority—chiefs by
486
courtesy, as it were. Ever since we have known them, now some three
hundred years, they have been hunters, warriors, and robbers. When
hunting, war, and robbery ceased to supply them with the necessaries of
life they naturally became a pastoral people, for the flocks and the
pasture lands were already at hand. It is only within the last few years
that they have shown indication of developing into an agricultural
people. With their previous habits only temporary habitations were
possible, and when they became a pastoral people the same habitations
served their purpose better than any other. The hogáns of ten or fifteen
years ago, and to a certain extent the hogáns of today, are practically
the same as they were three hundred years ago. There has been no reason
for a change and consequently no change has been made.

On the other hand, the Hopi came into the country with a
comparatively elaborate system of house structures, previously developed
elsewhere. They are an undersized, puny race, content with what they
have and asking only to be left alone. They are in no sense warriors,
although there is no doubt that they have fought bitterly among
themselves within historic times. Following the Spanish invasion they
also received sheep and goats, but their previous habits prevented them
from becoming a pastoral people like the Navaho, and their main reliance
for food is, and always was, on horticultural products. Living, as they
did, in fixed habitations and in communities, the pastoral life was
impossible to them, and their marked timidity would prevent the
abandonment of their communal villages.

Under modern conditions these two methods of life, strongly opposed
to each other, although practiced in the same region and under the same
physical conditions, are drawing a little closer together. Under the
strong protecting arm of the Government the Hopi are losing a little of
their timidity and are gradually abandoning their villages on the mesa
summits and building individual houses in the valleys below.
Incidentally they are increasing their flocks and herds. On the other
hand, under the stress of modern conditions, the Navaho are surely,
although very slowly, turning to agriculture, and apparently show some
disposition to form small communities. Their flocks of sheep and goats
have decreased materially in the last few years, a decrease due largely
to the removal of the duty on wool and the consequent low price they
obtained from the traders for this staple article of their trade.

In both cases the result, so far as the house structures are
concerned, is the same. The houses of the people, the homes “we have
always had,” as they put it, are rapidly disappearing, and the examples
left today are more or less influenced by ideas derived from the whites.
Among the Navaho such contact has been very slight, but it has been
sufficient to introduce new methods of construction and in fact new
structures, and it is doubtful whether the process and the ritual later
described could be found in their entirety today. Many of the modern
houses of the Navaho in the mountainous and timbered regions are built
of logs, sometimes hewn. These houses are nearly always rectangular
487
in shape, as also are all of those built of stone masonry in the valley
regions.

There is a peculiar custom of the Navaho which should be mentioned,
as it has had an important influence on the house-building practices of
the tribe, and has done much to prevent the erection of permanent
abodes. This is the idea of the tcĭ’ndi hogán. When a person dies
within a house the rafters are pulled down over the remains and the
place is usually set on fire. After that nothing would induce a Navaho
to touch a piece of the wood or even approach the immediate vicinity of
the place; even years afterward such places are recognized and avoided.
The place and all about it are the especial locale of the
tcĭ’ndi, the shade or “spirit” of the departed. These shades are
not necessarily malevolent, but they are regarded as inclined to resent
any intrusion or the taking of any liberties with them or their
belongings. If one little stick of wood from a tcĭ’ndi hogán is
used about a camp fire, as is sometimes done by irreverent whites, not
an Indian will approach the fire; and not even under the greatest
necessity would they partake of the food prepared by its aid.

This custom has had much to do with the temporary character of the
Navaho houses, for men are born to die, and they must die somewhere.
There are thousands of these tcĭ´ndi hogáns scattered over the
reservation, not always recognizable as such by whites, but the Navaho
is unerring in identifying them. He was not inclined to build a fine
house when he might have to abandon it at any time, although in the
modern houses alluded to above he has overcome this difficulty in a very
simple and direct way. When a person is about to die in one of the stone
or log houses referred to he is carried outside and allowed to die in
the open air. The house is thus preserved.

LEGENDARY AND ACTUAL WINTER HOGÁNS

The Navaho recognize two distinct classes of hogáns—the
keqaí or winter place, and the kejĭ´n, or summer place; in
other words, winter huts and summer shelters. Notwithstanding the
primitive appearance of the winter huts, resembling mere mounds of earth
hollowed out, they are warm and comfortable, and, rude as they seem,
their construction is a matter of rule, almost of ritual, while the
dedicatory ceremonies which usually precede regular occupancy are
elaborate and carefully performed.

Although no attempt at decoration is ever made, either of the inside
or the outside of the houses, it is not uncommon to hear the term
beautiful applied to them. Strong forked timbers of the proper length
and bend, thrust together with their ends properly interlocking to form
a cone-like frame, stout poles leaned against the apex to form the
sides, the whole well covered with bark and heaped thickly with earth,
forming a roomy warm interior with a level floor—these are
sufficient to constitute a “qoġán nĭjóni,” house beautiful. To
the Navaho the house
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is beautiful to the extent that it is well constructed and to the degree
that it adheres to the ancient model.

There are many legends and traditions of wonderful houses made by the
gods and by the mythic progenitors of the tribe. In the building of
these houses turquois
and pearly shells were freely used, as were
also the transparent mists of dawn and the gorgeous colors of sunset.
They were covered by sunbeams and the rays of the rainbow, with
everything beautiful or richly colored on the earth and in the sky. It
is perhaps on account of these gorgeous mythical hogáns that no attempt
is now made to decorate the everyday dwelling; it would be
bátsĭç, tabooed (or sacrilegious). The traditions preserve
methods of house building that were imparted to mortals by the gods
themselves. These methods, as is usual in such cases, are the simplest
and of the most primitive nature, but they are still scrupulously
followed.

Early mention of house building occurs in the creation myths:
First-man and First-woman are discovered in the first or lowest
underworld, living in a hut which was the prototype of the hogán. There
were curious beings located at the cardinal points in that first world,
and these also lived in huts of the same style, but constructed of
different materials. In the east was Tiéholtsodi, who afterward appears
as a water monster, but who then lived in the House of Clouds, and Iȼní‘
(Thunder) guarded his doorway. In the south was Teal’ (Frog) in a house
of blue fog, and Tiel’íŋ, who is afterward a water monster, lay at that
doorway. Ácihi Estsán (Salt-woman) was in the west, and her house was of
the substance of a mirage; the youth Çó‘nenĭli (Water-sprinkler) danced
before her door. In the north Çqaltláqale1 made a house of green duckweed, and
Sĭstél‘ (Tortoise) lay at that door.

Some versions of the myth hold that First-man’s hut was made of wood
just like the modern hogán, but it was covered with gorgeous rainbows
and bright sunbeams instead of bark and earth. At that time the
firmament had not been made, but these first beings possessed the
elements for its production. Rainbows and sunbeams consisted of layers
or films of material, textile or at least pliable in nature, and were
carried about like a bundle of blankets. Two sheets of each of these
materials were laid across the hut alternately, first the rainbows from
north to south, then the sunbeams from east to west. According to this
account the other four houses at the cardinal points were similarly made
of wood, the different substances mentioned being used merely for
covering. Other traditions hold that the houses were made entirely of
the substances mentioned and that no wood was used in their construction
because at that time no wood or other vegetal material had been
produced.

After mankind had ascended through the three underworlds by means of
the magic reed to the present or fourth world, Qastcéyalçi, the God of
Dawn, the benevolent nature god of the south and east,
489
imparted to each group of mankind an appropriate architecture—to
the tribes of the plains, skin lodges; to the Pueblos, stone houses; and
to the Navaho, huts of wood and earth and summer shelters. Curiously
enough, nowhere in Navaho tradition is any mention or suggestion made of
the use by them of skin lodges.

In building the Navaho hogán Qastcéyalçi was assisted by Qastcéqoġan,
the God of Sunset, the complementary nature god of the north and west,
who is not so uniformly benignant as the former. In the ceremonies which
follow the erection of a hogán today the structure is dedicated to both
these deities, but the door is invariably placed to face the east, that
the house may be directly open to the influences of the more kindly
disposed Qastcéyalçi.

When a movement of a family has been completed, the first care of the
qasçíŋ, or head of the family, is to build a dwelling, for which
he selects a suitable site and enlists the aid of his neighbors and
friends. He must be careful to select a place well removed from hills of
red ants, as, aside from the perpetual discomfort consequent on too
close a proximity, it is told that in the underworld these pests
troubled First-man and the other gods, who then dwelt together, and
caused them to disperse.

A suitable site having been found, search is made for trees fit to
make the five principal timbers which constitute the qoġán tsáȼi,
or house frame. There is no standard of length, as there is no standard
of size for the completed dwelling, but commonly piñon trees 8 to 10
inches in diameter and 10 to 12 feet long are selected. Three of the
five timbers must terminate in spreading forks, as shown in figure 230,
but this is not necessary for the other two, which are intended for the
doorway and are selected for their straightness.

When suitable trees have been found, and sometimes they are a
considerable distance from the site selected, they are cut down and
trimmed, stripped of bark, and roughly dressed. They are then carried or
dragged to the site of the hogán and there laid on the ground with their
forked ends together somewhat in the form of a T, extreme care being
taken to have the butt of one log point to the south, one to the west,
and one to the north. The two straight timbers are then

490
laid down with the small ends close to the forks of the north and south
timbers and with their butt ends pointing to the east. They must be
spread apart about the width of the doorway which they will form.

When all the timbers have been laid out on the ground, the position
of each one of the five butts is marked by a stone or in some other
convenient way, but great care must be exercised to have the doorway
timbers point exactly to the east. Sometimes measurements are made
without placing the timbers on the site, their positions and lengths
being determined by the use of a long sapling. The interior area being
thus approximated, all the timbers are removed, and, guided only by the
eye, a rough circle is laid out, well within the area previously marked.
The ground within this circle is then scraped and dug out until a fairly
level floor is obtained, leaving a low bench of earth entirely or partly
around the interior. This bench is sometimes as much as a foot and a
half high on the high side of a slightly sloping site, but ordinarily it
is less than a foot. The object of this excavation is twofold—to
make a level floor with a corresponding increase in the height of the
structure, and to afford a bench on which the many small articles
constituting the domestic paraphernalia can be set aside and thus avoid
littering the floor.

The north and south timbers are the first to be placed, and each is
handled by a number of men, usually four or five, who set the butt ends
firmly in the ground on opposite sides at the points previously marked
and lower the timbers to a slanting position until the forks lock
together. While some of the men hold these timbers in place others set
the west timber on the western side of the circle, placing it in such a
position and in such a manner that its fork receives the other two and
the whole structure is bound together at the top. The forked apex of the
frame is 6 to 8 feet above the ground in ordinary hogáns, but on the
high plateaus and among the pine forests in the mountain districts
hogáns of this type, but intended for ceremonial purposes, are sometimes
constructed with an interior height of 10 or 11 feet, and inclose an
area 25 to 30 feet in diameter. Following is a list of measurements of
four typical hogáns:

Measurements of typical hogáns

In the large hogáns mentioned a crowd of workers are engaged in the
construction and ropes and other mechanical aids are employed to lift
the heavy timbers of the frame in position.

At this stage in the construction the house shows only the three
principal timbers of the frame, securely locked at the apex by the
interlacing forks (as shown in figure 231) and firmly planted in the
ground. The two doorway timbers are next placed in position, with their
smaller ends resting on the forked apex of the frame, from 1½ to 2 feet
apart, and with the butt ends resting on the ground about 3½ feet apart.
The whole frame, comprising five timbers, is known as tsáȼí, but
each timber has its own specific name, as follows:

The appearance of the frame as seen from below is shown in
figure 231.

Fig. 231—Frame of a hogán, seen
from below

These names afford a good illustration of the involved nomenclature
which characterizes Indian languages. Naaí means a long, straight
object, like a piece of timber. The first word in each of the terms
above is the name of the cardinal point, the place it occupies (south,
west, and north), with the suffix ȼe, meaning “here” or “brought
here.” The same words are used with the suffix dje, instead of
ȼe, as caȼaádje naaí for the north timber,
dje meaning “there” or “set there.” The west timber is also
specially designated as bigídje nabkád, “brought
492
together into it,” an allusion to its functions as the main support of
the frame, as the two other timbers rest within its spreading fork. The
two doorway timbers are also designated as north timber and south
timber, according to the position each occupies, and they are sometimes
called tcíŋĕçin bĭnĭnĭ´li, “those in place at the doorway
passage.” A full nomenclature of hogán construction will be found in
another section.

When the tsáȼi, or frame of five timbers, is completed the
sides are filled with smaller timbers and limbs of piñon and cedar, the
butt ends being set together as closely as possible on the ground and
from 6 to 12 inches outside of the excavated area previously described.
The timbers and branches are laid on as flat as possible, with the upper
ends leaning on the apex or on each other. The intervening ledge thus
formed in the interior is the bench previously mentioned, and aside from
its convenience it adds materially to the strength of the structure.

Fig. 232—Frame of a doorway

While the sides are being inclosed by some of the workers a
door-frame is constructed by others. This consists simply of two
straight poles with forked tops driven into the ground at the base of
and close inside of the doorway timbers, as shown in figure 232. When in
place these poles are about 4 feet high, set upright, with a straight
stick resting in the forks, as shown clearly in plate LXXXIV. Another

493
short stick is placed horizontally across the doorway timbers at a point
about 3½ feet below the apex, at the level of and parallel with the
cross-stick of the door-frame. The space between this cross-stick and
the apex is left open to form an exit for the smoke. Sometimes when the
hogán is unbearably smoky a rough chimney-like structure, consisting of
a rude cribwork, is placed about this smoke hole. Such a structure is
shown in plate LXXXIII.

Plate LXXXIII.
A TYPICAL NAVAHO HOGÁN

The doorway always has a flat roof formed of straight limbs or split
poles laid closely together, with one end resting on the crosspiece
which forms the base of the smoke hole and the other end on the
crosspiece of the door-frame. The whole doorway structure projects from
the sloping side of the hogán, much like a dormer window. Sometimes the
doorway roof is formed by a straight pole on each side of the smoke hole
crosspiece to the crosspiece of the door-frame, supporting short sticks
laid across and closely together with their ends resting on the two
poles. This style of doorway is shown in plate LXXXIV.

Plate LXXXIV.
A HOGÁN IN CANYON CHELLY

The sides of the projecting doorway—that is, the spaces between
the roof and the sloping doorway timbers—are filled in with small
sticks of the required length. Sometimes the ends of these sticks are
bound in place with twigs of yucca, being made fast to the door-frame,
but generally they are merely set in or made to rest against the outer
roof covering. Usually the larger timbers are roughly dressed on the
sides toward the interior of the hut, and the smaller poles also are
stripped of bark and rough hewn.

The entire structure is next covered with cedar bark; all the
interstices are filled with it, and an upper or final layer is spread
with some regularity and smoothness. Earth is then thrown on from base
to apex to a thickness of about six inches, but enough is put on to make
the hut perfectly wind and water proof. This operation finishes the
house, and usually there are enough volunteers to complete the work
in a day.

It is customary to make a kind of recess on the western side of the
hut by setting out the base of the poles next to the west timber some 8
to 15 inches beyond the line. This arrangement is usually placed next to
and on the south side of the west timber, and all the poles for a
distance of 3 or 4 feet are set out. The offset thus formed is called
the “mask recess,” and when a religious ceremony is performed in the
hogán, the shaman or medicine-man hangs a skin or cloth before it and
deposits there his masks and fetiches. This recess, of greater or less
dimensions, is made in every large hogán, but in many of the smaller
ones it is omitted. Its position and general character are shown in the
ground plan, plate XC. In the construction of a hogán all the
proceedings are conducted on a definite, predetermined plan, and the
order sketched above is that ordinarily followed, but nothing of a
ceremonial nature is introduced until after the conclusion of the work
of construction.

SUMMER HUTS OR SHELTERS

The rules which govern the building of a regular hogán or winter
house, although clearly defined and closely adhered to, do not apply to
the summer huts or shelters. These outnumber the former and are found
everywhere on the reservation, but they are most abundant in the
mountain regions and in those places where horticultural operations can
be carried on.

These structures are of all kinds and of all degrees of finish,
although certain well-defined types, ancient in their origin, are still
closely adhered to when the conditions permit. But under other
circumstances the rudest and most primitive shelters are constructed,
some of them certainly not so high in the scale of construction as an
ordinary bird’s nest. There is a certain interest that attaches to these
rude attempts, as they exhibit the working of the human mind practically
untrammeled by precedent.

Perhaps the most primitive and simple shelter the Navaho builds is a
circle or part-circle of green boughs, generally pine or cedar. Half an
hour of work by two men with axes is all that is required to erect one
of these. A site having been selected, a tree is felled on the windward
side, and the branches trimmed from it are piled up to a height of 4 or
5 feet on three sides of a circle 15 or 20 feet in diameter. A fire is
built in the center and the natives dispose themselves around it.
Blankets are thrown over outstanding branches here and there, affording
an abundance of shade in the hot summer days when even a little shade is
agreeable. Rude as this shelter is, it is regarded by the Navaho as
sufficient when no better is available. During the recent construction
of some irrigating ditches on the reservation, when from 50 to 100 men
were employed at one time, this form of shelter was the only one used,
although in several instances the work was carried on in one place for
five or six weeks. Shelters of this kind, however, are possible only in
a wooded region, and are built only to meet an emergency, as when a man
is away from home and there are no hogáns in the vicinity where he can
stop.

Another form, scarcely less rude, is sometimes found in localities
temporarily occupied for grazing or for horticulture. It consists of a
circle of small branches, sometimes of mere twigs, with the butts stuck
into the ground, and not over 2½ or 3 feet high. The circle is broken by
a narrow entrance way on one side. This form of shelter, hardly as high
as a man’s waist, does little more than mark the place where a family
have thrown down their blankets and other belongings, but it may afford
some protection against drifting sand. Shelters of this type are
occupied several months at a time. They are often seen on the sandy
bottom lands of Canyon Chelly and in other regions of like character,
and the same sites are sometimes occupied several years in
succession.

From these rude makeshift types there is an unbroken range up to the
standard winter hut, which also meets the requirements of a summer
house, being as comfortable in warm weather as it is in cold weather.
The kind of house which a man builds depends almost entirely on the
purposes which it is to serve and very little on the man or his
circumstances. The houses of the richest man in the tribe and of the
poorest would be identical unless, as often happens in modern times, the
former has a desire to imitate the whites and builds a regular house of
stone or logs. If, however, a man builds a summer place to which he
intends to return year after year, and such is the usual custom, he
usually erects a fairly substantial structure, a kind of half hogán, or
house with the front part omitted. If it is possible to do so he locates
this shelter on a low hill overlooking the fields which he cultivates.
The restriction which requires that the opening or doorway of a regular
hogán shall invariably face the east does not apply to these shelters;
they face in any direction, but usually they are so placed as to face
away from the prevailing wind, and, if possible, toward the fields or
farms.

Figure 233 is a ground plan of a shelter of this type, which is shown
also in plate LXXXV. The effect is
that of a half hogán of the regular type, but with a short upright
timber in place of the usual north piece. The example shown is built on
a somewhat sloping site, and the ground inside has been slightly
excavated, but on the front the floor reaches the general level of the
ground. The principal timbers are forked together at the apex, but not
strictly according to rule. The structure is also covered with earth in
the regular way, and altogether appears to occupy an intermediate
position between the summer shelter and the winter hut. It is a type
which is common in the mountain districts and in those places where a
semipermanent shelter is needed, and to which the family returns year
after year.

Plate LXXXV.
A NAVAHO SUMMER HUT

The supporting post in front in this case was so short that the use
of its fork would have made the roof too low. To overcome this the side
beams were not laid directly in the fork, but a tablet or short piece of
wood was inserted, as shown in figure 234, and the timbers rest on this.
The entrance or open front faced to the northwest, and to protect it
from the evening sun a temporary shelter of piñon brush was
496
put up, as shown in the illustration. This feature is a common
accompaniment of summer shelters and is often found with the regular
winter hogán.

Figure 235 shows another type of summer shelter in plan, and figure
236 is a section of the same. It is of the “lean-to” type, and consists
of a horizontal beam resting on two forked timbers and supporting a
series of poles, the upper ends of which are placed against it. The
structure faces the east, and the southern end is closed in like a
hogán, but it was covered only with cedar boughs laid close together
without an earth facing.

Fig. 235—Ground plan of a summer
hut

This shelter stood upon a slope and the timbers used in its
construction were small and crooked. Perhaps on account of these
disadvantages the interior was excavated, after the shelter was built,
to a depth of nearly 24 inches on the higher side, as shown in figure
236. By this expedient the space under the shelter was greatly enlarged.
The excavation was not carried all the way back to the foot of the
rafters, but, as shown in the section, a bench or ledge some 18 inches
wide was left, forming a convenient place for the many little articles
which constitute the Navaho’s domestic furniture.

Fig. 236—Section of a summer hut

Mention has been made before of this interior bench, which is an
interesting feature. It has been suggested by Mr Victor Mindeleff, whose
well-known studies of Pueblo architecture give his suggestions weight,
that we have here a possible explanation of the origin of the interior
benches which are nearly always found in the kivas or ceremonial
chambers of the Pueblo Indians, that the benches in the kivas may be
survivals of archaic devices pertaining to the primitive type from which
Pueblo architecture developed. If a low wall of masonry
497

were used as a support for rafters, in the manner shown in figure 237,
and additional space were sought by excavation, the form shown in the
illustration would be retained, for the construction would be seriously
weakened if the rude stonework were placed directly on the edge of the
excavation. Possibly this practice has some bearing on the Pueblo
requirement that the kivas should be at least partly excavated, a
requirement still rigidly adhered to. The conservatism of the Indian
mind in matters connected with their ceremonials is well known, and
forms and practices long abandoned in ordinary house construction still
survive in the building of the kivas.

Plate LXXXVI shows a shelter
somewhat resembling that last described, but of more simple
construction. Here the main crosspiece which forms the front of the
shelter is supported by forked upright timbers, as in the previous
example, and here also the fork of the main upright is too large and has
been filled in.

Plate LXXXVI.
A “LEAN-TO” SUMMER SHELTER

Aside from the types described, which illustrate the more common
forms of summer shelters, all kinds and degrees of variation are found.
As they, unlike the regular hogán, do not follow any rule or precedent,
their form depends largely on the facilities or the particular
requirements or abilities of the builder. Figure 238 shows a shelter in
the mountains, where timber is abundant. Except that it is not covered
with earth and has no door-frame, it might be classed as a regular
hogán.

Fig. 238—A timber-built shelter

Figure 239 shows a form that occurs in the valley regions where
driftwood can sometimes be obtained. It is closely related to the
“lean-to” type, but it is formed partly by excavating the side of a hill
and is well covered with earth. It will be noticed that the front is
partly closed by logs leaned against it and resting against the front
crosspiece or ridgepole.

Fig. 239—Shelter with partly
closed front

Figure 240 shows a type which is common in the valleys where timber
is scarce and difficult to procure. Sage and other brush is used largely
in the construction of shelters of this sort, as the few timbers which
are essential can be procured only with great difficulty, and usually
must be brought a great distance.

Fig. 240—Low earth-covered
shelter

Plate LXXXVII shows a structure
that might easily be mistaken for a summer shelter, but which is a
special type. It is a regular hogán, so far as the frame and timber work
go, but it is covered only with cedar boughs. The illustration shows a
part of the covering removed. This structure was a “medicine hut,” put
up for the performance of certain ceremonies over a woman who was ill.
There are no traces of any fire in the interior, perhaps for the reason
that the women’s ceremony is always performed in the day time. Aside
from its lack of covering, it is a typical hogán, and the illustration
conveys a good impression of the construction always followed. This kind
of hut is called an ĭnçá qoġán.

Plate LXXXVII.
ĬNÇÁ-QOGÁN OR MEDICINE HUT

Rude and primitive as these structures seem, a certain amount of
knowledge and experience is necessary to build them. This has been
discovered at various times by whites who have attempted to build hogáns
and failed. An instance occurred not long ago where a trader, finding it
necessary to build some kind of a travelers’ house, where Indians who
came in to trade late in the evening or on Sunday could spend the night,
decided to build a regular hogán. He employed several Navaho to do the
work under his own supervision. The result was a failure, for, either on
account of too much slope to the sides or for other reasons, the hogán
does not remain in good order, and constant work on it is necessary to
maintain it in a habitable condition.

SWEAT HOUSES

All over the reservation there are hundreds of little structures
which are miniature models, as it were, of the hogáns, but they lack the
projecting doorway. These little huts, scarcely as high as a man’s hip,
look like children’s playhouses, but they occupy an important place both
in the elaborate religious ceremonies and in the daily life of the
Navaho. They are the sweat houses, called in the Navaho language
çó‘tce, a term probably derived from qáço‘tsil, “sweat”
and ĭnçĭníl‘tce, the manner in which fire is prepared for heating
the stones placed in it when it is used. The structure is designed to
hold only one person at a time, and he must crawl in and squat on his
heels with his knees drawn up to his chin.

In the construction of these little huts a frame is made of three
boughs with forked ends, and these have the same names as the
corresponding

500
timbers in a hogán. They are placed, as in the hogán, with the lower
ends spread apart like a low tripod. Two straight sticks leaned against
the apex form a narrow entrance, which, as in the hogán, invariably
faces the east. Numerous other sticks and boughs inclose the frame, and
enough bark and earth are laid on to make the structure practically
air-tight when the entrance is closed.

When the place is to be used a fire is made close beside it, and in
this fire numerous stones are heated. The patient to be treated is then
stripped, placed inside the little hut, and given copious drafts
sometimes of warm or hot water. The nearly red-hot stones are rolled in
beside him and the entrance is closed with several blankets, forming in
fact a hot-air bath. In a short time the air in the interior rises to a
high temperature and the subject sweats profusely. When he is released
he rubs himself dry with sand, or if he be ill and weak he is rubbed dry
by his friends. This ceremony has a very important place in the
medicine-man’s therapeutics, for devils as well as diseases are thus
cast out; but aside from their religious use, the çó‘tce are
often visited by the Indians for the cleansing and invigorating effect
of the bath, with no thought of ceremonial. The Navaho, as a race or
individually, are not remarkable for cleanliness, but they use the
çó‘tce freely.

During the Yébĭtcai dance or ceremony four çó‘tce are
set around the song house, about 40 yards distant from it, one at each
cardinal point. The qaçál‘i, or chief medicine-man, sweats the
patient in them on four successive mornings, just at dawn, beginning
with the east and using one each morning. The çó‘tce on the east
is merely an uncovered frame, and after the patient enters it and hot
stones have been rolled in it is
501
covered with many blankets and a large buckskin is spread over all.
On this skin the qaçál‘i sprinkles
iron ochers and other colored sands in
striated bands, symbolic of the rainbow and sunbeams which covered the
early mythic houses. He and his assistants stand near the hut shaking
rattles and singing a brief song to Qastcéjĭni, at the conclusion of
which the patient is released. The initial spark of the fire used at
these ceremonies and for all religious purposes is obtained by friction,
and is regarded as essentially different from fire produced by flint and
steel or otherwise, because the first spark of friction fire was brought
from Qastcéjĭni, who is the god of the underworld fire. The production
of fire by friction is a very simple matter to these Indians and is
often done in play; frequently, under the windy conditions that
prevail in

their country, in but little more time than a white man can
accomplish the same result with matches. For this purpose they often use
the dry, brittle stalks of the common bee weed (Cleome pungens).
The drill, which is whirled between the palms of the hands, consists of
a stalk perhaps a quarter of an inch in diameter. This is made to
revolve on the edge of a small notch cut into a larger stalk, perhaps an
inch in diameter. A pinch of sand is sometimes placed under the point of
the drill, the rapid revolution of which produces a fine powder. This
powder runs down the notch or groove, forming a little pile on the
ground. Smoke is produced in less than a minute, and finally, in perhaps
two minutes, tiny sparks drop on the little pile of dry powder, which
takes fire from them. By careful fostering by feeding with bits of bark
and grass, and with much blowing, a blaze is produced.

It is said that First-man made the first çó‘tce. After coming
up the qadjinaí, or magic reed, he was very dirty; his skin was
discolored and he had a foul smell like a coyote. He washed with water,
but that did not cleanse him. Then Qastcéjĭni sent the firefly to
instruct him concerning the çó‘tce and how to rotate a spindle of
wood in a notched stick. As First-man revolved the spindle, or drill,
between his hands, Firefly ignited the dust at its point with a spark of
fire which Qastcéjĭni had given it for that purpose. There is another
myth concerning the origin of these little sweat houses which does not
agree with that just stated. According to this myth, the çó‘tce
were made by the Sun when the famous twins, Nayénĕzgani and
Ço‘badjĭstcíni, who play so large a part in Navaho mythology, were sent
to him by Estsánatlehi. When they reached the house of the Sun they
called him father, as they had been instructed to do, but the Sun
disowned them and subjected them to many ordeals, and even thrust at
them with a spear, but the mother had given each of the youths a magic
feather mantle impervious to any weapon. Kléhanoai (the night
bearer—the moon) also scoffed at them and filled the mind of the
Sun with doubts concerning the paternity of the twins, so he determined
to subject them to a further ordeal.

He made four çó‘tce, but instead of using wood in their
construction he made them of a metallic substance, like iron. He placed
these at
502
the cardinal points and sent the moon to make a fire near each of them.
This fire was obtained from the “burning stars,” the comets. The
çó‘tce were made exceedingly hot and the twins were placed in
them successively; but instead of being harmed they came out of the last
one stronger and more vigorous than ever. Then the Sun acknowledged them
as his sons and gave the elder one the magic weapons with which he
destroyed the evil genii who infested the Navaho land. This is the
reason, the Navaho say, why it is well to have many çó‘tce and to
use them frequently. Their use gives rest and sweet sleep after hard
work; it invigorates a man for a long journey and refreshes him after
its accomplishment.

First-woman, after coming up the qadjinaí, was also foul and
ill smelling, and after First-man she also used the çó‘tce. Hence
the Navaho women use the çó‘tce like the men, but never together
except under a certain condition medical in character. The çó‘tce
is built usually in some secluded spot, and frequently large parties of
men go together to spend the better part of a day in the enjoyment of
the luxury of a sweat bath and a scour with sand. On another day the
women of the neighborhood get together and do the same, and the men
regard their privacy strictly.

EFFECT OF MODERN CONDITIONS

Up to a comparatively recent period the Navaho have been what is
usually termed a “wild tribe;” that is, they have existed principally by
war and plunder. Since the conquest of the country by General Kearny and
the “Army of the West,” in 1846, they have given us but little trouble,
but prior to that time they preyed extensively on the Pueblo Indians and
the Mexican settlements along the Rio Grande. Practically all their
wealth today, and they are a wealthy tribe, consists of thousands of
sheep and goats and hundreds of horses, all descended from flocks and
herds originally stolen. When the country came into the possession of
the United States marauding expeditions became much less frequent, and
almost insensibly the tribe changed from a predatory to a pastoral
people. But aside from the infrequency or absence of armed expeditions
the life of the people remained much the same under the changed
conditions. When the Atlantic and Pacific railroad entered the country
some sixteen or seventeen years ago traders came with it, although there
were a few in the country before, and numerous trading posts were
established in the reservation and about its borders. The effect of this
was to fix the pastoral habits of the people. Wool and pelts were
exchanged for flour, sugar, and coffee, and for calico prints and dyes,
and gradually a demand for these articles was established.

The men looked after their herds of horses and took very good care of
the few cattle that drifted into the reservation; the women attended
503
to their domestic duties and, with the aid of the children, took care of
the sheep and goats, which, according to long-established custom,
belonged exclusively to them. Agriculture was practically unknown. But
with the removal of the duty on wool a new era opened for the Navaho.
The price of wool fell to about one-half of the former figure, and a
flock of sheep no longer furnished the means for procuring the articles
which had grown to be necessities. The people were gradually but surely
forced to horticulture to procure the means of subsistence. It is this
tendency which is especially destructive of the old house-building
ideas, and which will eventually cause a complete change in the houses
of the people. Recently the tendency has been emphasized by the
construction, under governmental supervision, of a number of small
irrigating ditches in the mountain districts. The result of these works
must be eventually to collect the Navaho into small communities, and
practically to destroy the present pastoral life and replace it with new
and, perhaps, improved conditions.

But many of the arts of the Navaho, and especially their house
building, grew out of and conformed to the old methods of life. It is
hardly to be supposed that they will continue under the new
conditions, and, in
fact, pronounced variations are already apparent. Up to ten years ago
there was so little change that it might be said that there was none;
since then the difference can be seen by everyone. Should the price of
wool rise in the near future the change that has been suggested might be
checked, but it has received such an impetus that the Navaho will always
henceforth pay much more attention to horticulture than they have in the
past, and this means necessarily a modification in the present methods
of house building. The average Navaho farm, and almost every adult male
now has a small garden patch, comprises less than half an acre, while
two acres is considered a large area to be worked by one family at one
time.

One result of this industrial development of the people is an
increased permanency of dwellings. As the flocks of sheep and goats
diminish and their care becomes less important, greater attention is
paid to the selection of sites for homes, and they are often located now
with reference to a permanent occupancy and with regard to the
convenience of the fields, which in some cases furnish the main source
of subsistence of the family. As a collateral result of these conditions
and tendencies an effort is now sometimes made to build houses on the
American plan; that is, to imitate the houses of the whites. Such houses
are a wide departure from the original ideas of house structures of the
Navaho. They are rectangular in plan, sometimes with a board roof, and
occasionally comprise several rooms. When the local conditions favor it
they are constructed of stone, regular walls of masonry; but perhaps the
greater number of those now in existence are in the mountain districts,
and were built of logs, often hewn square before being laid in place.
Plate LXXXVIII shows a stone house
belonging
504
to one of the wealthiest men in the tribe, Bitcai by name. It is
situated on the western slope of the Tunicha mountains and was built
some years ago, but it is a type of house which is becoming more and
more frequent on the reservation. There is practically nothing
aboriginal about it except a part of its interior furniture and its
inhabitants, and the only one of the old requirements that has been met
is the fronting of the house to the east, while the character of the
site and the natural conditions demand a western front.

Plate LXXXVIII.
MODERN HOUSE OF A WEALTHY NAVAHO

The log houses referred to are constructed much like the stone house
shown in the illustration, except that they are built usually by Indian
labor and ordinarily are covered with flat earthen roofs. Frequently the
logs are hewn square before being placed in the walls, which present a
very neat and finished appearance. Sometimes door and window frames are
procured from the sawmill or from the traders, and add to such
appearance, while nearly always one or more glazed sashes occupy the
window openings and board doors close the entrances. In nearly all cases
the requirement that the entrance should face the east is observed, but
it is being more and more ignored, and in the houses constructed within
the last few years the ancient custom is frequently violated. Unless the
principal entrance were made to face the east, the performers in the
dedicatory ceremonies could not take their prescribed positions and the
ceremony would have to be either modified or omitted altogether.

CEREMONIES OF DEDICATION

Among the Pueblo Indians there are certain rituals and ceremonial
observances connected with the construction of the houses, but in the
Navaho system nothing of a ceremonial nature is introduced until the
conclusion of the manual labor. Usually there are enough volunteers to
finish the work in one day, and by evening everything is ready for the
dedication. The wife sweeps out the house with a wisp of grass and she
or her husband makes a fire on the floor directly under the smoke hole.
She then goes to her bundles of household effects, which are still
outside, and pours a quantity of white cornmeal into a shallow
saucer-shape basket. She hands this to the qasçíŋ, or head of the
family, who enters the hogán and rubs a handful of the dry meal on the
five principal timbers which form the tsáȼi or frame, beginning
with the south doorway timber. He rubs the meal only on one place, as
high up as he can reach easily, and then does the same successively on
the south timber, the west timber, the north timber, and the north
doorway timber. While making these gifts, as the proceeding is termed,
the man preserves a strict silence, and then, as with a sweeping motion
of his hand from left to right (cabĭkégo, as the sun travels)
he sprinkles the meal around the outer circumference of the floor,
he says in low measured tones—

He then flings a little of the meal into the fire, saying—

and tosses a handful or two up through the smoke hole, saying—

Then two or three handfuls of meal are sprinkled out of the doorway
while he says—

The woman then makes an offering to the fire by throwing a few small
handfuls of meal upon it, and as she sprinkles it she says in a subdued
voice—

When a hogán is built for a woman who has no husband, or if the
husband is absent at the time, the wife performs all these ceremonies.
In the absence of white cornmeal, yellow cornmeal is sometimes used, but
never the çqaȼĭçíŋ ȼoçlĭ´j, the sacred blue pollen of certain
flowers, which is reserved exclusively for the rites of the shaman.

By the time these forms have been observed night will have fallen.
During the day, while the house building was in progress, the women were
busily engaged in preparing food; all now gather inside the hogán, a
blanket is suspended over the door frame, all the possessions of the
family are bought in, sheepskins are spread on the floor, the fire
506
is brightened and the men all squat around it. The women bring in food
in earthen cooking pots and basins, and, having set them down among the
men, they huddle together by themselves to enjoy the occasion as
spectators. Every one helps himself from the pots by dipping in with his
fingers, the meat is broken into pieces, and the bones are gnawed upon
and sociably passed from hand to hand. When the feast is finished
tobacco and corn husks are produced, cigarettes are made, everyone
smokes, and convivial gossipy talk prevails. This continues for two or
three hours, when the people who live near by get up their horses and
ride home. Those from a long distance either find places to sleep in the
hogán or wrap themselves in their blankets and sleep at the foot of a
tree. This ceremony is known as the qoġán aiíla, a kind of
salutation to the house.

But the qoġán bĭgĭ´n, the house devotions, have not yet been
observed. Occasionally these take place as soon as the house is
finished, but usually there is an interval of several days to permit the
house builders to invite all their friends and to provide the necessary
food for their entertainment. Although analogous to the Anglo-Saxon
“house warming,” the qoġán bĭgĭ´n, besides being a merrymaking
for the young people, has a much more solemn significance for the
elders. If it be not observed soon after the house is built bad dreams
will plague the dwellers therein, toothache (dreaded for mystic reasons)
will torture them, and the evil influence from the north will cause them
all kinds of bodily ill; the flocks will dwindle, ill luck will come,
ghosts will haunt the place, and the house will become
bátsĭç, tabooed.

A few days after the house is finished an arrangement is made with
some shaman (qaçál‘i, devotional singer) to come and sing the
ceremonial house songs. For this service he always receives a fee from
those who engage him, perhaps a few sheep or their value, sometimes
three or four horses or their equivalent, according to the circumstances
of the house builders. The social gathering at the qoġán bĭgĭ´n
is much the same as that of the qoġán aiíla, when the house is
built, except that more people are usually invited to the former. They
feast and smoke, interchange scandal, and talk of other topics of
interest, for some hours. Presently the qaçál‘i seats himself
under the main west timber so as to face the east, and the singing
begins.

In this ceremony no rattle is used. The songs are begun by the shaman
in a drawling tone and all the men join in. The qaçál‘i acts only
as leader and director. Each one, and there are many of them in the
tribe, has his own particular songs, fetiches, and accompanying
ceremonies, and after he has pitched a song he listens closely to hear
whether the correct words are sung. This is a matter of great
importance, as the omission of a part of the song or the incorrect
rendering of any word would entail evil consequences to the house and
its inmates. All the house songs of the numerous qaçál‘i are of
similar import but differ in minor details.

The first song is addressed to the east, and is as follows:

House song to the East

Immediately following this song, but in a much livelier measure, the
following benedictory chant is sung:

After a short interval the following is sung to the west:

The song to the west is also followed by the benedictory chant, as
above, and after this the song which was sung to the east is repeated;
but this time it is addressed to the south. The song to the west is then
repeated, but addressed to the north, and the two songs are repeated
alternately until each one has been sung three times to each cardinal
point. The benedictory chant is sung between each repetition.

All the men present join in the singing under the leadership of the
shaman, who does not himself sing, but only starts each song. The women
never sing at these gatherings, although on other occasions, when they
get together by themselves, they sing very sweetly. It is quite common
to hear a primitive kind of part singing, some piping in a curious
falsetto, others droning a deep bass.

The songs are addressed to each of the cardinal points, because in
the Navaho system different groups of deities are assigned to each of
these points. The Navaho also makes a distinction between heavy
509
rain and light rain. The heavy rain, such as accompanies thunderstorms,
is regarded as the “male rain,” while the gentle showers or “young
rains,” coming directly from the house of Estsánatlehi, are regarded as
especially beneficent; but both are deemed necessary to fertilize. A
distinction is also made between “hard possessions,” such as turquois
and coral beads, shell ornaments, and all articles made from hard
substances, and “soft possessions,” which comprise blankets and all
textile substances, skins, etc. The Navaho prays that his house may
cover many of both hard and soft possessions.

The songs given above are known as the twelve house-songs, although
there are only two songs, each repeated twelve times. These are sung
with many variations by the different qaçál‘i, and while the
builders are preparing for this ceremony they discuss which
qaçál‘i has the best and most beautiful words before they decide
which one to engage. But the songs are invariably addressed to the
deities named, Qastcéyalçi, the God of Dawn, and Qastcéqoġan, the God of
Twilight; and they always have the same general significance.

After the “twelve songs” are finished many others are sung: to
Estsánatlehi, a benignant Goddess of the West, and to Yol‘kaí Estsán,
the complementary Goddess of the East; to the sun, the dawn, and the
twilight; to the light and to the darkness; to the six sacred mountains,
and to many other members of a very numerous theogony. Other
song-prayers are chanted directly to malign influences, beseeching them
to remain far off: to ĭntcóŋgi, evil in general; to dakús,
coughs and lung evils, and to the bĭȼakúji, sorcerers, praying
them not to come near the dwelling. The singing of the songs is so timed
that the last one is delivered just as the first gray streaks of dawn
appear, when the visitors round up their horses and ride home.

THE HOGÁN OF THE YÉBĬTCAI DANCE

Despite the ceremonies which have been performed, it frequently
happens that malign influences affect the new dwelling. The inmates
suffer from toothache, or sore eyes, or have bad dreams, or ghosts are
heard in the night. Then the house ceremony is repeated. If after this
the conditions still prevail and threatening omens are noted, an effort
is made to ascertain the cause. Perhaps the husband recalls an occasion
when he was remiss in some religious duty, or the wife may remember
having seen accidentally an unmasked dancer, or they may be convinced
that a sorcerer, a ȼĭlkúji, is practicing his evil art. Such
malign influences must be due to some definite cause, and it must be
found. Then, if the cause be grave, resort must be had to a very
elaborate ceremony, the dance of the Yébĭtcai.

Plate LXXXIX.
A YÉBĬTCAI HOUSE

For the observance of this ceremony it is usual to construct a
flat-roof hut called iyáȼaskuni, meaning, literally, “under the
flat.” The roof is nearly square as well as flat, and the edifice, with
its spreading
510
base, suggests a truncated pyramid; but as it is roughly covered with
earth heaped over the entire structure it is externally little more than
a shapeless mound. Plate LXXXIX is an
exterior view of one of these special hogáns, which is also shown in
plan in figure 241.

Fig. 241—Ground plan of Yébĭtcai
house

When it has been decided to build an iyáȼaskuni all the young
men of the neighborhood join in the labor while some of the older men
direct them in the prescribed methods. The procedure is much the same as
that employed in building the regular hogán, but larger timbers are
required. Any kind of timber growing in the vicinity is used; but as
groves of piñon and juniper are most abundant in the Navaho country,
these are the kinds usually employed. The stunted, twisted trunks of
these trees make it a matter of some difficulty to find the necessary
timbers of sufficient size, for they must be at least a foot in
diameter. When found, the trees are cut down and carried to the site
selected, which must have fairly level surroundings, free from dense
wood and underbrush, so as to afford a clear space for the ceremonial
processions and dances. Four heavy posts are necessary—“legs,” the
Navaho call them—and these must be trimmed so as to leave a strong
fork at the top of each at least 6 feet from the ground when set
upright. Four
511
others, for the horizontal roof-beams, must be 10 feet long, but without
forks; and two more, the straightest and longest, are necessary for the
doorway passage. These ten timbers are called tsáȼi, the same
term that is applied to the five main timbers of the ordinary hogán.

The four posts are set firmly in the ground in shallow holes at
distances apart corresponding to the length of the main roof-beams, and
so arranged as to describe a square, the sides of which face the
cardinal points. The prescribed position of the doorway is the center of
the eastern side, and it must face the east exactly. The post at the
southeastern corner is the first to be set, then the one at the
southwestern corner, with the forks arranged on the same line. The
northwestern post is then set, and finally the one at the northeastern
corner, and the forks of the last two are also placed on the same line.
In the ground plan (figure 241) the posts are numbered in the order in
which they are set up. This sequence is not always strictly followed,
but the old men say that this is the proper way.

The beam for the southern side of the roof is next lifted into place
and laid so as to rest in the forks of the two posts on that side, with
the ends projecting a little beyond them. The beam on the northern side
is similarly placed, and the western and the eastern beams are next laid
so that their ends rest upon the ends of the beams already in place.
Another timber is then placed parallel with the eastern beam, as shown
on the plan. This forms the western side of the smoke-hole and also a
support for the smaller roof-timbers to rest upon. Sometimes an
additional timber is laid across for this purpose between the one last
named and the next beam. The two timbers for the sides of the doorway
passage are then placed in position about 3 feet apart and leaning
against the eastern roof-beam. The butt ends rest upon the ground, and
the space between them should be in the center of the eastern side. All
the main posts and beams are stripped of bark, the rough knobs and
protuberances are hewn off, and they are finished according to the skill
of the builders or the exactions of the old men who superintend the
construction.

While this work is in progress a great number of smaller and less
shapely timbers are procured for the sides and roof. To determine a
pitch for the sloping sides all the workers arrange themselves so as to
encompass the square frame, and a few of the longest of the irregular
timbers are placed here and there around it, leaning against the beams.
They are roughly aligned, and some attempt is made to have the sides of
the same slope. The floor area thus determined, the outer edge of which
would fall 4 to 6 feet outside the posts, is then lightly dug over to
remove all irregularities, and is made as level as possible.

As in the ordinary hogán, the upright posts of the door-frame are set
near the lower ends of the doorway timbers, and the roof and sides of
the doorway are covered in when the sides of the hut are inclosed, which
is the next step in the construction. Small tree trunks and timbers are
512
placed closely around the excavated floor area, with their upper ends
leaning against the roof beams. They are not set very regularly and
boughs are often used to fill the larger crevices, while the corners are
turned in a clumsy manner, with the tops of the timbers overlapping each
other, while the butts diverge in a haphazard curve.

Fig. 242—Framework of Yébĭtcai
house

The roof is laid with smaller timbers, the longest resting on the
smoke-hole timber and the western beam, while the shorter pieces span
the smaller interval from the former timber to the eastern beam. The
arrangement of the smoke exit differs from that of the ordinary hogán.
In the latter an open space is left between the doorway timbers at their
upper ends; in the iyáȼaskuni the doorway roof is continued up to
the eastern beam, which forms the eastern side of the smoke hole. This
hole is in the main roof, in line with the doorway but just beyond the
ends of its timbers, and it is usually about 3 feet square. Figure 242
is an interior view of the frame, looking outward. The structure is
finished like the hogáns; the frame is covered by heavy layers of cedar
or juniper bark over the sides and roof, and finally with a deep
covering of earth packed firmly over the whole exterior. The door frame
is usually about 4 feet high and 2½ feet wide; the roof is about 7 feet
high in the interior, and the floor area measures roughly 20 feet
square, with the four posts standing about 5 feet from the base of the
sides. Figure 243 shows some actual measurements.

Fig. 243—Diagram showing
measurements of Yébĭtcai house

While the Yébĭtcai ceremony is in progress the hut is occupied
by the qaçál‘i and his assistants and by the young men who assume
the sacred masks and personate the various deities in the nightly
dances.
513
In the mornings the qaçál‘i sits under the western side of the
hut and directs the young men in the process of sand painting, the
making of curious sand mosaics delineating mythologic subjects. The
materials used are dry sand, charcoal, and powdered ochers of different
colors, which are poured from the hand between the thumb and fingers.
Without the use of a brush or other implement the trickling stream is
guided to form intricate designs. These designs are made directly on the
earthen floor in a zone about 3 feet wide and extending nearly the
entire length of the hut from north to south. This zone, called the
iká‘, is made in front of the qaçál‘i, and between him and
the fire, which is reduced to small dimensions to enable him to work
close under the opening in the roof. During the process the door is
closed with the usual hanging blanket, and to increase the light from
above a buckskin or white cloth is sometimes suspended as a reflector on
a light frame of boughs erected on the roof on the western side of the
smoke hole.

The mask recess, which is found in all the larger hogáns, is always made
in the middle of the western side of the iyáȼaskuni. It is
usually somewhat wider and deeper than in the ordinary dwelling. The
bundles containing the masks and other paraphernalia to be used in the
ceremony are placed in the recess by the qaçál‘i, who then
fastens a skin or cloth across it. The upper edge at a height of about 3
feet from the floor is fastened with strings to the sloping timbers. The
lower edge is held by small pegs driven into the edge of the bench-like
ledge of earth which marks the limits of the floor. When he needs them
the qaçál‘i reaches behind the curtain for the paraphernalia he
has previously prepared and deposited there. The masks must never be
seen except when worn by the dancers, nor are the fetiches exposed
except when certain rites demand their display.

This recess is called by the Navaho djĭc bĭnasklá, literally
“mask recess.” Besides its practical use it has a mythic significance,
as it indicates the position occupied by First-man, who sat there with
Qastcéyalçi (Dawn) and Qastcéqoġan (Twilight) on either hand, in the
house where the Corn people were made. They also occupied similar
positions in the house in which they made the celestial bodies, and also
in the first iyáȼaskuni, which was made by them to celebrate the
occurrence of the first menstruation of Estsánatlehi.

No special veneration attaches to the iyáȼaskuni except when a
ceremony is in progress. At that time it is devoted exclusively to the
qaçál‘i and the other actors in the rites, and it is then known
as qaçál‘ biqoġan, the song house. Perhaps the family for whose
benefit it was first used may have contributed the larger share of the
food for the workers who constructed it, but it is not held to be the
exclusive property of any one person; it is for the use of the
neighborhood. In the summer time, during which season no important rites
are celebrated, the women often erect their vertical looms there and use
it as a workroom. Some of the neighbors may find it convenient to occupy
it temporarily, or when some occasion brings an influx of visitors they
adjourn to the flat-roof house, if there be one near, to smoke and
gamble and sleep there. But it is rarely used as a dwelling in winter,
as it would have to be vacated whenever one of the neighbors wished to
have a ceremony performed. Moreover, owing to its large size, it would
be more difficult to keep warm than the more compact hogán.

Plate XC.
DIAGRAM PLAN OF HOGÁN, WITH NAMES OF PARTS

HOGÁN NOMENCLATURE

Terms applied to different parts of the floor area

Yébĭtcai house nomenclature2

Fig. 244—Interior of Yébĭtcai house, illustrating
nomenclature

larger view

The numerals in this figure were redrawn in red for greater visibility.
The enlarged view shows the numerals in their original form.

FOOTNOTES

INDEX