HISTORICAL SKETCH

The Indian and
his history present innumerable problems to the student. Facts
seemingly contradict facts, well-founded theories contradict other
theories as well founded. Linguistically the Apache belong to the
great Athapascan family, which, according to the consensus of
opinion, had its origin in the far North, where many tribes of the
family still live. Based on the creation legends of the Navaho and
on known historical events, the advent of the southern branch of
this linguistic group—the Navaho and the Apache tribes—has been
fixed in the general region in which they now have their home, at
about the time of the discovery of America. Contrary to this
conclusion, however, the legend of their genesis gives no hint of
an origin in other than their historical habitat. The history and
the legendary lore of the Indian are passed down from generation to
generation, so that it would seem hardly credible that all trace of
this migration from a distant region should have become lost within
a period of somewhat more than four hundred years.

Again, judging
by the similarity in language, the Apache and the Navaho in
prehistoric times were as nearly a single group as the present
bands of Apache are; and, likewise, there is sufficient similarity
in the underlying principles of their mythology to argue a common
tribal origin. The names as well as the functions of several of the
mythic characters are identical in both tribes, as, for example,
the war gods Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ. These
miracle-performing twins in each case are the sons of a woman (who
occupies an almost identical position in both Navaho and Apache
mythology) and the sun and water respectively. Pollen also is
deified by each—as Hádĭntĭn Boy among the Apache and Tádĭtĭn Boy
among the Navaho. If, therefore, we may concede that the Navaho and
the Apache were originally[pg
004]
one tribe, as their language certainly indicates, we have many
arguments in favor of the theory of long residence in the
South-west of this branch of the Athapascan family, for the
striking differences in the details of their myths would seem to
indicate that the tribal separation was not a recent one, and that
the mythology of the two tribes became changed in the course of its
natural development along different lines or through accretion of
other peoples since the original segregation. The Apache story of
their creation portrays human beings in their present form, while
in the Navaho genesis myth occurs the remarkable story,
unquestionably aboriginal, of the evolution of the lower animals
through successive underworlds until the present world is reached,
then as spirit people miraculously creating human life.

The beautiful
genesis myth of the Apache is complete; it does not reflect an
incipient primitive culture, but one developed by age. The
mythology and ceremonial of the Navaho exhibit unquestioned signs
of being composite in origin. Their ceremonials are perhaps the
most elaborate of any Indians except the Pueblos; indeed the very
life of this people so teems with ceremony as almost to pass
comprehension. The Navaho ritual probably reached its highest phase
about the beginning of the nineteenth century. It would seem
impossible for a religion so highly developed as this to have
attained such a stage within a comparatively short time.

Before the early
years of the seventeenth century the Spanish chroniclers give us
nothing definite regarding the Apache of what is now Arizona and
New Mexico, but there are numerous accounts of their aggressiveness
from this time onward.

Ténokai
– Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Father Francisco
Garcés, who in 1775-76 journeyed from his mission of San Xavier del
Bac, in southern Arizona, to San Gabriel, California, thence to the
Hopi country, and back to his mission by way of the Colorado and
the Gila rivers, had sufficient knowledge of the Apache to keep
well out of their country, for they had ever been enemies of
Garcés’ peaceful neophytes, the Papago and the Pima. To the
warlike, marauding Apache Garcés gave much thought, drawing up a
plan for holding them in subjection[pg 005] by the establishment of a cordon of
presidios. To read his simple plan and compare the ineffectual
efforts of the Americans, who had the Apache country virtually
surrounded by military posts for many years, will convince one that
while Garcés held the Apache in justifiable fear, he little knew
the true character of those with whom he was reckoning.

So far as
diligent field research reveals, there was but one tribe or band of
Indians living within proximity of the Apache Indians of Arizona in
early times who ever affiliated with them, or associated with them
in any way save on terms of enmity. This tribe was the
Apache-Mohave, of Yuman stock, whose domain extended along the Rio
Verde in central Arizona, immediately adjacent to the territory
over which the Apache proper held undisputed sway. With these,
affiliation practically became fusion, for in outward semblance,
characteristics, mode of living, and handicraft they are typically
Apache; but their mother tongue, though impaired, and remnants of
their native mythology are still adhered to. Through the
Apache-Mohave, allied with the Apache since early times, and
resembling them so closely as to have almost escaped segregation
until recent years, did the tribe now so widely known as Apache
undoubtedly receive its name.

The
Apache-Mohave call themselves Apátĭĕh, which means, simply,
“people.” The Walapai, another Yuman tribe farther north, whose
dialect resembles that of the Apache-Mohave more closely than do
the dialects of the Mohave and the Yuma, also call themselves
Apátĭĕh. Although the
pronunciation of this word is indicated more nearly correctly by
this spelling than by “Apache,” only a trained ear can distinguish
the difference in sound when the average Yuman Indian utters it.
Etymologically it comes from apá, “man,” and the plural
suffix –tĭĕh.

The mountain
fastness of the Apache in Arizona permitted easiest approach from
the south and the west for all who wished to seek peace or revenge.
The Apache-Mohave, living as Apache in close affiliation, were on
the western border of this stronghold, whence they made raids upon
several other Yuman groups, north, west, and south, in company with
the Apache. They were also[pg
006]
the first to be attacked by enemies waging offensive warfare, hence
any name by which they designated themselves might readily have
been transmitted to the whole Apache group. Early Spanish
missionaries alluded to the Apache-Mohave as true Apache.
Contradistinguished from the Apache proper, the Apache-Mohave are
called Yavapai and Yavapĕh by their congeners of the Colorado
river, a term that has been employed by early writers, misled
through the close association of the Apache-Mohave with the Apache,
to designate also the latter people. It is further evident that the
term Apache came to be applied to this great division of the
Athapascan family indirectly, as its component tribes are not known
by that name in any of the Indian languages of the Southwest, and
there is no evidence of its being of other than Indian
origin.

At The Ford – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

Since known to
history, the many bands of Apache have occupied the mountains and
plains of southern Arizona and New Mexico, northern Sonora and
Chihuahua, and western Texas—an area greater than that of the
states of New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut,
Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, Ohio, North Carolina, South
Carolina, and West Virginia. They were always known as “wild”
Indians, and indeed their early warfare with all neighboring
tribes, as well as their recent persistent hostility toward our
Government, which precipitated a “war of extermination,” bear out
the appropriateness of the designation. An admission of fear of
anything is hard to elicit from the weakest of Indian tribes, but
all who lived within raiding distance of the Apache, save the
Navaho, their Athapascan cousins, freely admit that for generations
before their subjugation the Apache were constantly held in mortal
terror.

Through the
constant depredations carried on against the Mexican settlements in
northern Sonora and Chihuahua, under the leadership of Juan José,
an Apache chief educated among the Mexicans, those two states were
led, in 1837, to offer a bounty for Apache scalps. The horror of
this policy lay in the fact that the scalp of a friendly Indian
brought the same reward as that of the fiercest warrior, and worse
still, no exception was made of[pg 007] women or children. Nothing could have been
more effective than this scalp bounty in arousing all the savagery
in these untamed denizens of the mountains, and both Mexico and the
United States paid dearly in lives for every Apache scalp taken
under this barbarous system. Predatory warfare continued unabated
during the next forty years in spite of all the Mexican government
could do. With the consummation of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo,
in 1848, the Apache problem became one to be solved by the United
States as well.

In 1864, under
General James H. Carleton, the “war of extermination” was begun in
a most systematic manner. On April 20 this officer communicated a
proposal of co-operation to Don Ignacio Pesqueira, Governor of
Sonora, saying: “If your excellency will put a few hundred men into
the field on the first day of next June, and keep them in hot
pursuit of the Apaches of Sonora, say for sixty or ninety days, we
will either exterminate the Indians or so diminish their numbers
that they will cease their murdering and robbing propensities and
live at peace.”

This request was
met. The settlers in Arizona, under agreement, placed a force in
the field provisioned with army supplies. Several hundred Pima,
Papago, and Maricopa Indians also were supplied with guns,
ammunition, and clothing, and pressed into service; but a year’s
effort netted the combined forces little gain. Although two hundred
Apache were killed and many head of stolen stock recovered,
practically no advance toward the termination of hostilities was
accomplished.

In April, 1865,
Inspector-General Davis arranged a conference at the Copper Mines
in New Mexico with Victorio, Nané, Acosta, and other chiefs, among
whom were Pasquin, Cassari, and Salvador, sons of Mangas Coloradas,
through which he learned of the existence of dire destitution among
the Apache and a desire for peace on condition that they be
permitted to occupy their native haunts. But the Government had
adopted a policy of removal by which the Arizona Apache desiring
peace should join the Mescaleros at the Bosque Redondo in New
Mexico. To this they flatly refused to agree, and the warfare
continued.

[pg
008]

The Bathing Pool – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Practically all
the Apache were assembled in Arizona in 1865, and waged hostilities
with renewed energy for the next five years, being joined by the
Walapai in 1868. The close of this period found the situation quite
as unsettled as ever.

On June 4, 1871,
General George Crook was placed in command. Crook was not an
exterminator. In the fall of the same year he said:

“I think that
the Apache is painted in darker colors than he deserves, and that
his villainies arise more from a misconception of facts than from
his being worse than other Indians. Living in a country the natural
products of which will not support him, he has either to cultivate
the soil or steal, and as our vacillating policy satisfies him we
are afraid of him, he chooses the latter, also as requiring less
labor and being more congenial to his natural instincts. I am
satisfied that a sharp, active campaign against him would not only
make him one of the best Indians in the country, but it would also
save millions of dollars to the Treasury, and the lives of many
innocent whites and Indians.”

Crook’s policy
was one of peace, but he made it plain to the Indians that if they
did not agree to peace when liberal terms were offered, they could
expect a campaign against them hitherto unequalled in vigor. It was
thus that by 1873 the Tontos, Coyoteros, and Apache-Mohave were
subdued and the backbone of Apache resistance broken.

The
Apache-Mohave and the Tontos were placed on a reservation on the
Rio Verde; the Coyoteros were taken to the White Mountain district
near Fort Apache; the Pinaleños and parts of other bands
surrendered and were established at San Carlos; in all,
approximately three thousand Apache had been brought under control.
About one thousand hostiles yet remained in the mountains, but by
1874 they had become so nearly subjugated as to make it seem
advisable to transfer the Arizona reservations from the War
Department to the Office of Indian Affairs, which was done. The
policy of the Indian Office from the beginning had been to
concentrate the various bands upon one reservation at San Carlos.
Disaffection arose between different bands[pg 009] until this became a despicable place to
nearly all, while continued adherence to the removal policy drove
the Chiricahua from their southern Arizona reservation to seek
refuge with the Ojo Caliente Apache in southwestern New Mexico, in
1876, although they had been living in comparative peace for four
years. In 1877 these Chiricahua and the Ojo Caliente band were
forcibly removed to San Carlos, but while en route Victorio and a
party of forty warriors made their escape. In September of the same
year three hundred more fled from San Carlos and settler after
settler was murdered. In February, 1878, Victorio and his notorious
band surrendered at Ojo Caliente, but gave notice that they would
die fighting before submitting to removal to San Carlos. The major
portion of the three hundred Chiricahua who had left San Carlos
surrendered at Fort Wingate, New Mexico, shortly before. All these
were taken to the Mescalero reservation in New Mexico.

Haunted by the
dread of removal to San Carlos, the appearance of a party of Grant
County officials at the Mescalero agency on a hunting tour a few
months later caused Victorio and his band to flee with a number of
Chiricahua and Mescaleros to the mountains of southern New
Mexico.

For two years,
until he met his death at the hands of Mexican troops in the fall
of 1880, Victorio spread carnage throughout the southern portions
of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, and the northern states of
Mexico, enlisting the aid of every willing renegade or refugee of
whatever band or tribe in that section. After him Nané, Chato, Juh,
Geronimo, and other doughty hostiles carried the fighting and
raiding along until June, 1883, when Crook, reassigned to the
Arizona district, followed the Chiricahua band under Geronimo into
the Sierra Madre in Chihuahua, whence he brought them back whipped
and ready to accept offers of peace. The captives were placed upon
the San Carlos and White Mountain reservations, where, with the
various other Apache bands under military surveillance, and with
Crook in control, they took up agriculture with alacrity. But in
1885 Crook’s authority was curtailed, and through some cause,
never[pg 010] quite clear,
Geronimo with many Chiricahua followers again took the warpath.
Crook being relieved at his own request, Gen. Nelson A. Miles was
assigned the task of finally subduing the Apache, which was
consummated by the recapture of Geronimo and his band in the Sierra
Madre in September, 1886. These hostiles were taken as prisoners to
Florida, later to Alabama, and thence to Fort Sill, Oklahoma,
where, numbering 298, they still are, living as farmers in peace
and quiet, but still under the control of the military
authorities.

Alchĭsé
– Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

One of the last
hostile movements of note was the so-called Cibicu fight in 1882.
In the spring of that year an old medicine-man, Nabakéltĭ,
Attacking The Enemy, better known as Doklínĭ, started a “medicine”
craze in the valley of the Cibicu on the White Mountain
reservation. He had already a considerable following, and now
claimed divine revelation and dictated forms of procedure in
bringing the dead to life. As medicine paraphernalia he made sixty
large wheels of wood, painted symbolically, and twelve sacred
sticks, one of which, in the form of a cross, he designated “chief
of sticks.” Then with sixty men he commenced his dance.

One morning at
dawn Nabakéltĭ went to the grave of a man who had been prominent in
the tribe and who had recently died. He and his adherents danced
about the grave and then dug up the bones, around which they danced
four times in a circle. The dancing occupied the entire morning,
and early in the afternoon they went to another grave, where the
performance was repeated. In each instance the bones were left
exposed; but later four men, specially delegated, went to the
graves and erected a brush hut over the remains.

Nabakéltĭ told
the people that they must pray each morning for four days, at the
end of which time the bleached bones would be found clothed with
flesh and alive again. By the end of the second day the Apache band
on the Cibicu became excited almost to the degree of frenzy. They
watched the little grave-houses constantly and gathered in groups
about other graves.

Some of the
Apache employed as scouts with the detachment stationed at Fort
Apache heard of the craze and obtained[pg 011] leave of absence to investigate. They
returned and informed the commanding officer, then acting as agent,
that their people were going mad, whereupon a number of scouts and
troopers were sent to learn the cause of the trouble and to ask
Nabakéltĭ to come to the fort for an interview. Though angered by
the message, the old man agreed to come in two days. Meanwhile he
had the little brush houses over the bones tightly sealed to keep
out preying animals and curious Indians. He then explained to his
people that, owing to the interruption by the whites, it was
probable that the bones would not come to life at the end of four
days, as predicted, but that he would make a new dance later and
prove the efficacy of his creed.

Then he started
for the fort with his entire band of dancers, sixty-two in number,
each with his “sacred medicine”—wheels, sticks, and drums. They
journeyed afoot, stopping occasionally to dance, and reached the
grounds of the fort late in the afternoon of the second day. On
they passed, dancing in a spectacular manner, and camped that night
on the flat a little above the fort, where they waited for someone
to come over to interview them. The agent did not send for
Nabakéltĭ that night, so at daybreak he started up White river with
his band, passing by the present agency site, and crossing into
Bear Springs valley. Thence they took the trail toward the Cibicu
again, reaching the Carrizo in the evening, where they camped for
the night and performed another dance. The following morning they
took the trail for their home, which they reached rather early in
the day.

As soon as the
band had reached its destination, another summons was delivered to
Nabakéltĭ to appear before the agent at the fort. This time the old
man sent back word that he would not come: he had gone once, and if
any had wished to see him, they had had their chance.

On receipt of
this reply, sixty mounted soldiers, armed and provisioned, were
sent over to the Cibicu to put a stop to the dancing. Apache scouts
had been stationed to watch the manœuvres of the Indians and to
keep the officials informed. They met the troopers, who made a
night ride to the stream, and informed[pg 012] them where the old medicine-man was encamped.
Early in the morning the soldiers reached the Cibicu at a point
about two miles above Nabakéltĭ’s camp, whence a detachment was
despatched to arrest the medicine-man and bring him to the place
where headquarters were being established. It was the intention
merely to arrest and hold him while the troops rested for the day,
preparatory to taking him back to the fort; but it was deemed
necessary to send a force sufficiently large to cope with the
Indians should they attempt resistance.

Mescal Hills – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Nabakéltĭ
yielded without hesitation to the demands of the soldiers, and
forthwith rode up to headquarters. Everything seemed very quiet.
There was no demonstration against the soldiers, who stacked their
arms and unloaded the pack-trains. The mules were hobbled and
turned loose, and the cavalry horses tethered and fed.

While this
apparently peaceful condition prevailed, a brother of the
medicine-man, angered because of the arrest, dashed into camp on a
pony and shot and killed the captain in command. Instantly, hardly
realizing whence the shot had come, one of the troopers struck
Nabakéltĭ on the head with a cudgel, killing him. Assured that a
fight was imminent, the soldiers receded to higher ground, a short
distance back, where they hurriedly made preparations for
defence.

On learning that
Nabakéltĭ had been killed, and deeming the soldiers wholly to
blame, a small party of Apache attacked the troopers while
retreating to the higher ground. Six of the soldiers were killed,
the mules stampeded, and the provisions burned, all within a short
space of time. The hostiles made their escape, practically all of
them leaving the valley.

The Government
probably never lost money faster in an Indian campaign than it did
as a result of its interference with Nabakéltĭ’s harmless medicine
craze. Had he been left alone his inevitable failure, already at
hand, to bring the dead to life would have lost him his following,
and in all probability his ill-success would have cost his life at
the hands of one of his tribesmen. As it was, the hostilities that
followed extended over several months, costing many lives and a
vast sum of money.

HOMELAND AND LIFE

The present
Apache population is approximately six thousand, including the
Jicarillas and Mescaleros of New Mexico. It is doubtful if the
number ever exceeded ten thousand. In population, therefore, the
Apache seem almost too insignificant to have kept the other tribes
of the vast Southwest, as well as two civilized nations, in
constant dread for so long a period.

At the present
time the greater part of the Apache reside on the White Mountain
reservation, Arizona, comprising more than 3,500,000 acres, with
agency headquarters at Whiteriver and San Carlos. This reservation
is a part of the great tableland of southeastern Arizona, being a
succession of mountains and high, park-like mesas, broken here and
there with valleys and watered by limpid streams. The highlands are
wooded with pine, cedar, fir, juniper, oak, and other trees, while
in the valleys are mistletoe-laden cottonwood as well as willow,
alder, and walnut, which, with smaller growths, are interwoven with
vines of grape, hop, and columbine, in places forming a veritable
jungle. On every hand, whether on mountain or in valley, many
varieties of cactus grow in profusion; and in springtime cañon and
vale, mountain-side and mesa, are all aglow with wild flowers.

In midsummer the
temperature of the lower reaches seems as great as that of a
furnace. At the same season in the mountain and high mesa country,
especially in the shade of the beautiful forests, the atmosphere is
ideal; but in winter these higher levels are covered deep with
snow, swept by fierce winds that chill one to the very marrow.

The typical
Apache habitation, called kówa, consists of a framework of
poles loosely thatched with native grass, through which the smoke
from the central fire finds its outlet and the rain and snow sift
in, rendering it anything but a comfortable shelter in time of
storm. The kówa is erected by the women,
who are little more than drudges, and as an Apache may
have[pg 014] as many wives as he
feels able to support, he may have as many homes as circumstances
require. The various wives are prone to be quarrelsome among
themselves, for which reason a man usually maintains one wife on
one part of the reservation and another wife perhaps many miles
away.

Primitive Apache Home

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

In the good old
days the radius of Apache wandering centred in the mountains of
what is now southeastern Arizona; this was their stronghold, their
lair, whence they raided to the south, well down into Sonora and
Chihuahua, westward to the Colorado river, northward into the Hopi
and Navaho country, and eastward as far at least as western Texas.
From this mountain rendezvous they swept down upon the Mexicans and
Indians of Sonora and Chihuahua, and on the Pueblo villages of the
north, while in later years they terrorized the white settlers of
the entire Southwest. To follow them was a fruitless task which
often led to the destruction of the pursuers.

The primitive
Apache was a true nomad, a wandering child of Nature, whose
birthright was a craving for the warpath, with courage and
endurance probably exceeded by no other people, and with cunning
beyond reckoning. Although his character is a strong mixture of
courage and ferocity, the Apache is gentle and affectionate toward
those of his own flesh and blood, particularly his children. Fear,
to him, is unknown. Death he faces with stolid indifference; yet
Apache men have been known to grieve so deeply over the loss of a
friend as to end their troubles by self-destruction.

No people could
be better fitted than the Apache to conduct continuous predatory
warfare. Every form of plant and animal life pays him tribute. An
entirely naked Indian, without implements of any sort, would stop
on a mountain slope and in a few minutes be sitting by a cheerful
fire preparing a welcome meal. With a fragment of stone he would
shape fire-sticks from the dead stalk of a yucca. Sitting with the
flattened piece held firmly by his feet, a pinch of sand at the
point of contact between the two sticks, with a few deft whirls of
the round stick over his improvised hearth the lone traveller would
soon have a fire kindled.[pg
015]
Into the blaze he would cast a few sections of green, juicy
mescal1 stalk
which, when cooked, would afford him both food and drink. This part
of his meal finished, the Apache might gather other dead yucca
stalks, split them, and often find within small stores of
honey.

Many plants
furnish small seeds rich in nutriment. These are gathered in a
basket, ground on a metate, and the oily mass formed into a ball
with the hands. The Apache assert that a lump as large as one’s two
fists would subsist a man for two days; but in addition he would
eat wild greens of various kinds, either cooked or raw. One of the
principal vegetal foods of the Apache is the mescal—in their
language, náta. Nothing can give a better
idea of the economic life of these people than a description of one
of their annual mescal harvests.

The mescal
harvest occurs in the season of new life and growth, when the call
from the wild is strong in the blood, and like a class of
children—for they are but grown-up children—they pour out into the
wilds. From the camp where they have passed the winter they take to
the trails which lead to the mescal hills.

For some hours
after leaving the huts on White river the path leads across the
hot, dusty desert; then it reaches the rim of White river cañon and
follows its edge so closely that a pebble tossed from the saddle
would drop into the torrent more than a thousand feet below. How
musical the roar of the stream, and how cool its waters look! As
the trail passes some especially dizzy spot the Indian women lean
away from the sheer edge in fear. For miles the trail traverses the
bluff. At times the river is out of sight and hearing, then it
emerges again and both eye and ear receive its greeting. At the
hour when the piñon trees stretch their long shadows across the
land the Indians urge their horses down a steep, winding trail and
arrive at the river’s bank. Here they ford, follow the course of
the stream for a while, and then at a bend reach an open flat
dotted here and there with[pg
016]
shapely live-oaks. In this park-like opening the long straggling
line comes to a halt.

Cutting Mescal – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

All the worldly
possessions of the Apache woman are packed on the horse which she
and her children have ridden. The mother, with the youngest in her
arms, first clambers down, followed by the little girl four years
of age; she then removes the blankets that cover the pack, then the
burden basket containing her cooking utensils, next the water
bottle, and from across the saddle seat the large rawhide carryall
that contains the family supplies and extra clothing. A smaller
rawhide bag holds those little essentials necessary to the comfort
of the family. The unloading finished, the woman fills the water
bottle at the stream and gathers fuel for preparing the simple
meal, which is soon over. If anything is more simple than the
cooking it is the preparation of the bed. A small circular spot is
cleared and an armful of grass, if any exists, is spread over it;
the blankets are laid on the grass, and the bed is made. The
blankets may not be clean, and certainly the pallet is not downy,
but this matters little to a people inured to hardship; they are
happy.

With a laugh the
children tumble upon the blankets. Being dressed in a single
garment a little girl innocently exposes more of her body than
meets with her modest mother’s approval. The scolding is full and
positive. Little Miss Apache, sitting in the middle of the blanket
with her knees drawn to her chin and with scant skirt now tucked
carefully about her feet, looks up with roguish smile, then down at
her wiggling toes in coquettish defiance.

From far down
the stream resound the splash of water and the merry laughter of
matrons and maidens bathing in the clear pools, and from above the
more boisterous shouts of men and boys. Surely he who says the
American Indian is morose, stolid, and devoid of humor never knew
him in the intimacy of his own home.

With the coming
of light the women are at work building the campfires, and the
rising sun finds them at their morning meal. The breaking of camp
is a brief task. To-day they are to[pg 017] cross the divide, ford Black river, and
continue on to the mountains where the mescal grows abundantly.
Travel in the cool morning hours is a delight, and seven o’clock
finds the party well on its way. The long cavalcade winds slowly
over the mountain trail. Just ahead is a mother with two children,
a little girl astride behind her and a two-year-old boy standing in
her lap. The mourning dove sounds its melancholy note from the
forest, and the children take up the call. The little boy is not
very proficient in the imitation, and sister corrects him time
after time. Truly, in Indian-land, nature study begins early in
life.

There is
noticeable change in the vegetation. The giant yuccas appear almost
as a forest to-day; yesterday there was none. Soon the party gains
the summit of the range, before which winds the valley of the Black
with miles of placid stream in view. Quite different is this from
White river, which is ever hurrying, rushing along. The Black flows
within its grassy banks for long distances with scarcely a ripple;
then a whirling rapid is passed, beyond which glides another long
stretch of almost silent water.

However, mescal
does not grow by cool streams, and the trail again leads up into
high mountains. On a broad slope well toward the summit the final
halt is made. Close by is the mescal pit, perhaps twenty feet in
diameter and three feet deep; it may have been used a hundred years
or a thousand, abandoned for a long period, and then brought into
use again. Each time it is employed it must first be cleaned of the
refuse from the last burning; this done, a large supply of fuel is
gathered and thrown in, and over all are piled great quantities of
stones.

Then begins the
harvest of the mescal. With baskets on their backs the women go out
to gather the plants. Their implements consist of a stick about two
inches in diameter and three feet long, wedge-shaped and sharpened
at one end, and a broad hatchet-like knife. On reaching a plant,
the woman places the sharp end of the stick at its base and by a
blow with a stone severs the root and pries it up. Nothing could be
more primitive. The women of the Stone Age who gathered mescal on
the same ground, and perhaps used the same pit, thus far must have
used identical tools.

[pg
018]

Mescal – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

When the plant
is cut from its root it is turned over and trimmed. For the latter
the women employ the hatchet-like knife, cutting off the outer ends
of the leaves. The plant now resembles a large head of cabbage and
weighs from five to twenty pounds. As fast as the plants are cut
the women place them in the burden baskets and carry them to the
pit, load after load. To make it possible for each woman to
identify her mescal after the cooking, each piece is branded with a
distinguishing device—a property mark. The gathering of the mescal
continues for several days, an area covering a radius of perhaps
two miles being stripped of its budding plants, for such only are
harvested.

The pit being
ready and the mescal gathered, the work of cooking commences. Just
at daylight the old woman in charge takes her place at the rim of
the pit and prays that the cooking may be successful and that the
people may be in condition to partake of the food. In igniting the
fuel the old-fashioned fire-sticks must be employed; to use matches
would bring ill fortune. When the fuel in the pit becomes a blazing
mass the women go to prepare breakfast, but are soon at work again
gathering brush and grass to cover the mescal. Within four hours
the fuel is entirely consumed and the red-hot stones have settled
to the bottom of the pit. When it is certain that no fuel remains
unburned, as even a small amount of smoke would spoil the quality
of the mescal, the head-woman says, “It is good,” and with great
eagerness her followers begin to fill the pit. There is need for
haste in throwing in and covering the mescal, as the steam must be
confined to prevent the hot stones from scorching it. The covering
consists of alternate layers of green brush, grass, dry leaves, and
finally a layer of earth, about six inches in thickness. After
forty-eight hours of steaming the seething mass is uncovered and
each woman removes her portion.

The greater part
of the product of this cooking is now to be prepared for winter use
by pulling the leaves apart and pounding them into pulp. This can
be kneaded and handled much the same as dough, and while in this
plastic state is formed into[pg 019] large cakes two inches thick and perhaps
three feet long. These are dried in the sun, when they have all the
appearance of large slabs of India rubber, and are easily packed on
horses for the homeward journey.

This dried
mescal may be eaten without further preparation, but it is
generally made into a gruel by mixing with water. Alone it is very
sweet, and berries of the aromatic sumac, and frequently walnuts,
are crushed with it to give it flavor.

The fruit of the
opuntia, or prickly-pear cactus, which the Apache call hush,
is much used for food both in its fresh state and dried. It is
picked from the plant with pincers of split sticks. When the
tú̆tza, or burden basket, is
filled its contents are poured on the ground and the fruit is
brushed about with a small grass besom until the spines are worn
off. In preparing hush the women grind seeds and
pulp into a mass, thus retaining the full food value of the
fruit.

Manzanita, piñon
nuts, juniper berries, acorns of the scrub oak, fruit of the yucca,
wild potatoes, wild onions, mesquite pods, and many varieties of
fungi also furnish food. As a drink the Apache make a tea from the
green or dried inner bark of the piñon.

The intoxicant
and curse of their lives is túlapai, or tizwin
as it is sometimes called. Túlapai means “muddy or gray
water.” It is, in fact, a yeast beer. In preparing it corn is first
soaked in water. If it be winter time the wet corn is placed under
a sleeping blanket until the warmth of the body causes it to
sprout; if summer, it is deposited in a shallow hole, covered with
a wet blanket, and left until the sprouts appear, when it is ground
to pulp on a metate. Water and roots are added, and the mixture is
boiled and strained to remove the coarser roots and sprouts. At
this stage the liquid has the consistency of thin cream soup. It is
now set aside for twenty-four hours to cool and ferment, when it is
fit for drinking. As the túlapai will spoil in twelve
hours it must be drunk quickly. Used in moderation it is not a bad
beverage, but by no means a pleasant one to the civilized palate.
The Apache, however, knows no moderation in his[pg 020] túlapai drinking. He sometimes
fasts for a day and then drinks great quantities of it,—often a
gallon or two—when for a time he becomes a savage
indeed.

Filling the Pit – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Another
intoxicant, more effective than túlapai, is made from the
mescal—not from the sap, according to the Mexican method, but from
the cooked plant, which is placed in a heated pit and left until
fermentation begins. It is then ground, mixed with water, roots
added, and the whole boiled and set aside to complete fermentation.
The Indians say its taste is sharp, like whiskey. A small quantity
readily produces intoxication.

Of game foods
the Apache has deer, antelope, and wild turkey, with quail, some
water fowl, smaller birds, rabbits, and wood-rats. Fish and bear
meat are strictly tabooed.

The graphic art
of the Apache finds expression chiefly in ceremonial paintings on
deerskin, and in basketry. Only rarely have they made pottery,
their roving life requiring utensils of greater stability. Such
earthenware as they did make was practically the same as that of
the Navaho, mostly in the form of small cooking vessels. Usually
the pictures are painted on the entire deerskin, but sometimes the
skin is cut square, and at others ceremonial deerskin shirts are
symbolically painted. Occasionally the Apache attempts to picture
the myth characters literally; at other times only a symbolic
representation of the character is made. In addition to the mythic
personages, certain symbols are employed to represent the incident
of the myth. These paintings are made under the instruction of a
medicine-man and are a part of the medicine paraphernalia. On some
skins the most sacred characters in Apache mythology are
represented symbolically—Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, the War God; Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ,
his younger brother; Kútĕrastan, the Creator of All;
Stĕnátlĭhăn, the chief goddess. In fact
the symbolism on an elaborately painted deerskin may cover every
phase of Apache cosmology.

In their
basketry the Apache women display great taste in form, and in their
more superior work employ much symbolic decoration. Since the
beginning of the present “messiah craze” all baskets display the
sacred symbols believed to have been[pg 021] revealed to Das Lan by Chuganaái Skhĭn—a
combination of the cross and the crescent. There are many baskets,
made before this new religious wave swept over the tribe, into
which the symbolism has since been woven.

The basket most
used is the tú̆tza, or burden basket,
roughly and loosely woven, ornamented with circular lines as often
painted on as woven in. Previous to a messiah craze, which had its
origin with the Apache about 1901, the designs in these baskets
were purely decorative, without attempt at symbolism; but now, by
order of a crafty old medicine-man, every tú̆tza
must display the combined cross and crescent.

The tus is
a water bottle, made invariably of withes of the aromatic sumac,
loosely woven, and coated inside and out with piñon gum. To use
material other than sumac would be considered very bad. In the
Apache deluge myth the people, instructed by Stĕnátlĭhăn,
built a monster tus of piñon branches in which
they floated away.

The tsa-naskú̆dĭ is a bowl or
tray-shaped basket of splendid form, with symbolic decoration of
intricate pattern.

The most
pretentious basket is the tus-naskú̆dĭ, in general form
like the tus, but much larger; it is used
for the storage of grain. Its lines are most beautiful, as are also
its inwoven symbolic designs.

Owing to the
extremely secretive nature of the Apache, it is difficult for the
casual student to learn anything of the relations between their
mythology and the designs used in their basketry. Questioned, they
will perhaps say, “We don’t know,” or “To make it look pretty.” But
an intelligent and trustworthy interpreter will tell you, “That
woman knows, but she will not tell.” A law of the cult brought
about by the recent messiah religion is that every woman must have
in readiness for use during the migration to the future world a
tus, a tú̆tza,
a tsa-naskú̆dĭ, and a gourd
drinking-cup, all decorated with the cross and crescent. These are
not used and are carefully preserved.

The clan and
gentile systems of the American Indians have been the bulwark of
their social structure, for by preventing intermarriage within the
clan or the gens the blood was kept at its[pg 022] best. Added to this were the hardships of the
Indian life, which resulted in the survival only of the fittest and
provided the foundation for a sturdy people. But with advancing
civilization one foresees the inevitable disintegration of their
tribal laws, and a consequent weakening of the entire social
structure, for the Indians seem to have absorbed all the evil, and
to have embodied little of the good, that civilized life
teaches.

The Covered Pit – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

The Coyoteros
are divided into five bands, each consisting of a number of clans,
although in one band there are now survivors of a single clan only,
while in others as many as seven or eight clans are still to be
found. Descent among the Apache generally is reckoned through the
mother; that is, the children belong to their mother’s clan. An
exception to this rule is said by “Peaches,” an old Apache scout
under Crook, to exist among the Chiricahua, where the children take
the gens of the father. Among the Apache some of the younger
generation are inclined to disregard tribal laws respecting
marriage, but in former times they were rigidly enforced, marriage
within the clan or the gens being regarded as incestuous. When
asked what would happen if a man and a woman belonging to the same
clan should marry, one old man answered that both would be quickly
put to death.

In the Appendix
are given the clan names of the Coyoteros, also of the Arivaipa and
the Chiricahua. Geronimo, Chato, and Cochise were members of the
Aiahán, People of the East, clan.
Most of the clan names are derived from localities in which the
ancestors of the clan are supposed to have first lived.

With the Apache,
as with other tribes, the clan organization has an important
bearing on property right. Regardless of what property either
spouse may hold or own at the time of marriage, the other
immediately becomes possessed of his or her moiety. Should the wife
die, her husband retains possession of the property held in common
so long as he does not remarry, but what might be termed the legal
ownership of the wife’s half interest becomes vested in her clan.
Should he attempt to dissipate the property the members of the
deceased wife’s clan would at once interfere.[pg 023] If the widower wishes to marry again
and the woman of his choice belongs to the clan of his former wife,
then he and the new wife become owners in common of all personal
property held by him; but if the second wife belongs to a different
clan from that of the former wife, then the husband must make
actual transfer of half of the common property to the clanspeople
of the deceased woman, who inherited the legal interest in it at
their relative’s death. The same tribal law applies in the case of
a widow.

Much internal
strife naturally results whenever an actual distribution of
property is made. In the first place the surviving spouse
unwillingly relinquishes the moiety of the property to the
relatives of the deceased, and the immediate relatives often
disagree with the remainder of the clan. In former times death of
one or more members of contending clans often resulted when the
division of much property was made. Having no tribunal for making
an equitable division, the matter was left to mutual agreement,
resulting in disputes and frequently murder.

With the
breaking up of the clans, together with the rapid disintegration of
ancient customs and laws, this property law is fast becoming
forgotten; but so recently as 1906 such disputes as those mentioned
occurred under both the Fort Apache and San Carlos agencies,
creating no little ill-feeling. In one instance a man refused to
deliver possession of half of his little herd of horses to his
deceased wife’s clanspeople when contemplating marriage with
another woman, and appealed to the missionaries for aid. He was
compelled to make the division, however, before he could
remarry.

MYTHOLOGY – CREATION MYTH

There was a time
when nothing existed to form the universe—no earth, no sky, and no
sun or moon to break the monotony of the illimitable darkness. But
as time rolled on, a spot, a thin circular disc no larger than the
hand, yellow on one side and white on the other, appeared in
midair. Inside the disc sat a bearded man but little larger than a
frog, upon[pg
024]
whom was to fall the task of creating all things. Kútĕrastan, The
One Who Lives Above, is the name by which he is now known, though
some call him Yŭádĭstan, Sky Man.

Apache Still Life

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

Kútĕrastan, as
if waking from a long sleep, sat up and rubbed his face and eyes
with both hands. Then bending forward, he looked up into the
endless darkness, and lo! light appeared everywhere above him. He
then looked down, and all below became a sea of light. A glance to
the east created yellow streaks of dawn, another to the west the
saffron tints of the dying day, both soon becoming obscured by
numerous clouds of many hues, formed by his looking around and
about in all directions.

Again with both
hands Kútĕrastan wiped his eyes and sweating face and, rubbing his
hands together as if he were rolling a small pebble between the
palms, suddenly parted them with a quick downward fling, and there
before him on a shining, vaporless, mirage-like cloud sat a little
girl no larger than a doll. Kútĕrastan directed her to stand up,
asking where she intended to go, but she replied not. He cleared
his vision once more with his hands, then proffered his right hand
to the girl, Stĕnátlĭhăn, Woman Without Parents, who
grasped it, with the greeting “Whence came you?”

For reply
Kútĕrastan merely repeated her question, adding, “Look to the east,
it is light! There will be light in the south, in the west, and in
the north.” And as she looked she saw light. He then came out upon
the cloud.

“Where is the
earth?” asked Stĕnátlĭhăn, to which Kútĕrastan
replied by asking:

“Where is the
sky?” Then requesting that he be not disturbed, he began to sing:
“I am thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking what shall I do next.”
Four times he thus sang, at the end of the fourth time brushing his
face with his hands, which he rubbed briskly together and parted
quickly; and there before him stood Chuganaái, the Sun. Raising his
left hand to his brow, from the sweat thereon, which he rolled in
his hands as before, Kútĕrastan let drop from his right palm a
small boy, Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn.

[pg 025]

The four sat
upon that still cloud for a time as if in reverie, the first to
break the silence being he who commenced the creation: “What shall
we do next? I do not like this cloud to live upon, but we are to
rule and must stay together. How dreary it is here! I wish we had
some place to go.” And then he set to work again, creating
Nacholécho, the Tarantula, who was later to help in completing the
earth, and Nôkusé, the Big Dipper, whose duty it would be to
befriend and to guide. The creation of Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, the Wind,
Ndídĭlhkĭzn, the Lightning Maker, and the clouds in the west to
house Ndísâgochan, Lightning Rumbler, whom he
placed in them at the same time, next occupied his attention. Then
turning to Stĕnátlĭhăn, Kútĕrastan said, “Truly
this is not a fit place in which to live; let us make the earth.”
And so saying he at once began to sing, “I am thinking of the
earth, the earth, the earth; I am thinking of the earth,” which he
repeated four times. As he ceased, Stĕnátlĭhăn,
Chuganaái, and Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn each shook hands with him. Sweat from
their hands adhered to his. He at once began rubbing his palms,
when suddenly there slipped from between them a small brown body,
no larger than a bean. Kútĕrastan kicked it and it expanded;
Stĕnátlĭhăn then kicked it and its size
further increased; Chuganaái next gave it a severe blow with his
foot and it became larger still; a kick from Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn made it
greater yet. Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, the Wind, was told to go inside and
blow outward in all directions. This he did, greatly expanding the
dimensions of that body, now so wide that they could hardly see its
edge. The Lightning was next directed to exert his strength, so
with a terrific flash and roar he penetrated the body to its
centre, spreading it still wider. Then Tarantula was called on to
assist, and accordingly he started off to the east, spinning a
strong black cord, on which he pulled with all his might; another
cord of blue was spun out to the south, a third of yellow to the
west, and a fourth of glistening white to the north. A mighty pull
on each of these stretched the surface of that dark brown body to
almost immeasurable size. Finally Kútĕrastan directed all to cover
their eyes with their hands, and when they[pg 026] opened them a moment later they beheld
Nigostú̆n, the Earth, complete in extent. No hills or mountains
were there in sight, nothing but a smooth, treeless, reddish-brown
plain.

Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn,
the Wind, scratched his chest and rubbed his fingers together, when
out from between them flew Dátĭlyĕ, the Humming-bird. Dátĭlyĕ was
told to make a circuit of the earth and report what he saw. He
started off toward the east, circled south, west, north, and back
from the east. All was well; the earth was most beautiful, very
smooth, and covered with water on the western side.

But the Earth
was not still; it kept shifting and rolling and dancing up and
down, so Kútĕrastan made four great posts—colored black, blue,
yellow, and white—to support it. Then he directed
Stĕnátlĭhăn to sing a song. She sang,
“The world is made and will soon sit still.” These two then stood
and faced Chuganaái and Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, when into their midst came
Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, who dashed away to the cardinal points with the
four posts, which he placed under the sides of the earth; and upon
them it sat and was still. This pleased Kútĕrastan, so he sang a
song, repeating, “The world is now made and sits still.”

Then Kútĕrastan
began another song, referring to the sky. None existed as yet, and
he felt there ought to be one. Four times he chanted the song, at
the end of the fourth time spreading his hands wide before him,
when lo! there stood twenty-eight men and women ready to help make
a sky to cover the earth. He next chanted a song for the purpose of
making chiefs for the sky and the earth, and at its close sent
Ndídĭlhkĭzn, the Lightning Maker, to encircle the world.
Ndídĭlhkĭzn departed at once, but returned in a short time with
three very uncouth persons, two girls and a boy, whom he had found
in the sky in a large turquoise bowl. Not one of them had eyes,
ears, hair, mouth, nose, or teeth, and though they had arms and
legs, they had neither fingers nor toes.

Chuganaái at
once sent for Doh, the Fly, to come and erect a kaché̆,
or sweat-house. It took but a short time to put up the[pg 027] framework, which Stĕnátlĭhăn
covered closely with four heavy clouds: a black cloud on the east,
a blue one on the south, a yellow one on the west, and a white one
on the north. Out in front of the doorway, at the east, she spread
a soft red cloud for a foot-blanket after the sweat. Twelve stones
were heated in a fire, and four of them placed in the kaché̆.
Kútĕrastan, Stĕnátlĭhăn, Chuganaái, and Hádĭntĭn
Skhĭn each inspected the sweat-house and pronounced it well made.
The three newcomers were bidden to enter and were followed by
Chuganaái, Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, Ndídĭlhkĭzn, Nôkusé, and Doh. The eight
sang songs as their sweat began. Chuganaái led, singing four songs,
and each of the others followed in turn with the same number. They
had had a good sweat by the time the songs were finished, so
Stĕnátlĭhăn removed the black cloud and
all came out. She then placed the three strangers on the red-cloud
blanket, and under the direction of Kútĕrastan made for them
fingers, toes, mouth, eyes, ears, hair, and nose. Then Kútĕrastan
bade them welcome, making the boy, whom he called Yádĭlhkĭh Skhĭn,
Sky Boy, chief of the sky and its people. The second he named
Nigostú̆n Nalí̆n, Earth Daughter, and placed her in charge of the
earth and its crops; while to the third, Hádĭnĭn Nalí̆n, Pollen
Girl, was assigned the care of the health of the earth’s people.
This duty also devolved upon Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, but each looks more to
the welfare of his own sex than to that of the other.

Among the Oaks – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

The earth was
smooth, flat, and barren, so Kútĕrastan made a few animals, birds,
trees, and a hill. Then he sent Ágocho, the Pigeon, to see how the
world looked. Four days later Ágocho returned and said all was
beautiful, but that in four days more the water on the opposite
side would rise and flood the land. Kútĕrastan at once created a
piñon tree. This Stĕnátlĭhăn skilfully tended until it
grew to be of gigantic size at the end of four days. Then with four
great limbs as a framework she made a very large water bottle,
tus, covering it with gum from
the piñon. When the water appeared as predicted, Kútĕrastan went up
on a cloud, taking his twenty-eight helpers with him, while
Stĕnátlĭhăn summoned all the others and
put them[pg
028]
into the tus, into which she climbed
last, closing the mouth at the top.

Mescal Camp – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

The flood
completely submerged the earth for twelve days. Then the waters
subsided, leaving the tus on the summit of the hill
Kútĕrastan had made. The rush of the waters had changed the once
smooth, level plain into series of mountains, hills, rivers, and
valleys, so that Stĕnátlĭhăn hardly knew where they were
when she opened the tus and came out. Tázhĭ, the
Turkey, and Gấgĕ, the Crow, were the first to make a tour of the
land. At the base of the hill they descended into a small muddy
alkaline creek, in which the Turkey got the tips of his
tail-feathers whitened, and they have been white ever since. On
return they reported that all looked beautiful as far as they had
travelled. Stĕnátlĭhăn then sent Ágocho to make a
complete circuit and let her know how things appeared on all sides.
He came back much elated, for he had seen trees, grass, mountains,
and beautiful lakes and rivers in every direction.

Directing the
others to remain where she left them, Stĕnátlĭhăn
summoned Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, Hádĭntĭn Naln, Ndídĭlhkĭzn, and Ágocho,
and took them up in a cloud, in which they drifted until they met
Kútĕrastan and his band of workers, who had completed the sky
during the time of the flood. The two clouds floated to the top of
the hill on which stood the tus. All descended to the valley
below, where Stĕnátlĭhăn marshalled them into line,
that Kútĕrastan might talk to them. He briefly told them that he
was going to leave them and wished each one to do his part toward
making the world perfect and happy. “You, Ndísâgochan,
shall have charge of the clouds and the water. You, Yádĭlhkĭh
Skhĭn, I leave in charge of the sky. Nigostú̆n Nalí̆n, you are to
look after the crops of our people; and you, Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, must
care for their health and guide them.” He then called
Stĕnátlĭhăn to him and placed her in
charge of all.

The people stood
in line facing their god, with hands extended as if in
supplication. Kútĕrastan and Stĕnátlĭhăn
stood facing each other. Each rubbed their thighs with their hands,
then cast their hands downward, and there arose between them
a[pg 029] great pile of wood.
Stĕnátlĭhăn knelt and slipped a hand
under it, and as she did so Kútĕrastan passed his hand over the
top. Great white billowy clouds of smoke at once issued forth,
rising straight skyward. Into these Kútĕrastan disappeared. All the
other gods and goddesses soon followed, leaving the twenty-eight
whom Kútĕrastan had made to build the sky to remain upon the earth
and people it. Chuganaái went east to travel with the sun;
Stĕnátlĭhăn departed westward to make
her home in clouds on the horizon, while Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn and
Hádĭntí̆n Nalín sought homes among the clouds in the south, and
Nôkusé may still be seen in the northern sky at night.

The Apache is
inherently devoutly religious; his life is completely moulded by
his religious beliefs. From his morning prayer to the rising sun,
through the hours, the days, and months—throughout life
itself—every act has some religious significance. Animals,
elements, every observable thing of the solar system, all natural
phenomena, are deified and revered. Like all primitive people, not
understanding the laws of nature, the Apache ascribe to the
supernatural all things passing their understanding. The
medicine-men consider disease evil, hence why try to treat evil
with drugs? Disease is of divine origin, so to the beneficent and
healing gods the Apache naturally make supplication for cure.

The Apache, even
if willing, could not directly impart their religious beliefs or
their philosophy. It is only by study of their myths, myth songs,
and medicine practices, and by close observance of their life, that
a comprehensive idea of such beliefs can be gained.

A concise
outline of the mythology of the Apache is given in the following
description of the painted medicine skin2 shown
in the accompanying plate.

[pg 030]

A—The nucleus of
the universe, called Chalhké̆lh Nalíín, Night Girl. In the
beginning it was merely a spot of color in which, during the course
of time, a form appeared, and later emerged. This was Kútĕrastan,
the Creator.

B—Kútĕrastan,
the Creator of All, is standing on the clouds, his first home,
holding lightning in each hand. To his left is the tus, or
water bottle, in which the people of the earth took refuge from the
flood shortly after their creation. Above him are four clouds,
those into which he departed when leaving the earth for his
celestial abode. He first created several assistants, who in turn
created others by rubbing sweat and small particles of cuticle from
the face and body.

C—Stĕnátlĭhăn, the chief goddess, first
helper of Kútĕrastan, is seen standing on the clouds. In her right
hand is a piñon tree, from the branches and gum of which the large
tus was made at the time of the
deluge. Above her flies Dátĭlyĕ, the Humming-bird, who was sent as
a messenger about the world to note how its creation
progressed.

D—Chuganaái
Skhĭn was the second person created by Kútĕrastan. He followed
Stĕnátlĭhăn, and is therefore third in
importance of the many deities. Not only does he give light to the
day, but he has the power to relieve and cure disease with the aid
of the first beams of his morning light. The Apache ask his
blessing before sunrise, generally imploring his beneficence “as
soon as you look upon me.” The serrated circles typify the abodes
of these gods, which are protected by insurmountable barriers.

E—Here the sun
as first made by the great creator is pictured. As time wore on, it
grew to become the full round disc it now is.

F—The moon as
first made by Stĕnátlĭhăn, at the behest of
Kútĕrastan, who asked that she make something to illumine the
night. The streaks represent catamenia, and the gradual growth of
the moon is assumed to be parallel with prenatal growth.

G—This single
symbol, a maltese cross, represents the four personages who made
the stars. They have to do with the stars[pg 032] only, and are not prayed to as deities having
power over the people on earth.

Sacred Buckskin – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

EXPLANATION OF
PLATE

A—Chalhké̆lh Nalín,
Night Girl
B—Kútĕrastan, The One Who Lives Above
C—Stĕnátlĭhăn, Woman Without
Parents
D—Chuganaái Skhĭn, Sun Boy
E—Chuganaái, The Sun
F—Klĕganaái, The Moon
G—Yádĭlhkĭh Bĭnálzĕ, Sky Messengers
H—Nigostú̆n Bĭká Bĭnálzĕ, Earth Messengers
I, J—Nasté̆lh, Makers of Dreams and Visions
K—Hádĭlhkĭh, Lightning

Disc L
1—Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, Slayer of Alien Gods
2—Dutlí̆shĭ Skhĭn, Turquoise Boy
3—Yólkai Skhĭn, White-Shell Boy
4—Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, Pollen Boy

Disc M
1—Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ, Born From Water
2—Yádĭlhkĭh Skhĭn, Sky Boy
3—Yólkai Skhĭn, White-Shell Boy
4—Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, Pollen Boy

Disc N
1—Yólkai Nalí̆n, White-Shell Girl
2—Dutlí̆shĭ Nalí̆n, Turquoise Girl
3—Ĕnásho Dĭlú̆hklí̆shĕn, Black Alien Talker
4—Hádĭntĭn Nalí̆n, Pollen Girl

Disc O
1—Hádĭntĭn Nalí̆n, Pollen Girl
2—Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, The Wind
3—Yólkai Nalíí̆n, White-Shell Girl
4 —Yakósha Skhĭn, Frost Boy

P—Gáŭncho –
Gods
Q—Gaŭnchĭné̆ – Gods
R—Gáŭn – Gods
S—Gaŭnchí – Gods

H—Another
maltese cross, symbolizing four spirits of the air, who act as
messengers of the gods. They are supposed to communicate with the
medicine-men, bringing to them words of wisdom from the several
gods as they sit and chant in ceremony, or when they are fasting.
Their name, Nigostú̆n Bĭká Bĭnálzĕ, Earth Messengers, indicates
that their powers extend to both the earth and the sky.

I and J
symbolize spirits of the air who reveal to the medicine-men the
wonders they claim to know in a priestly way. Such revelations are
made to them in visions as they sit and drum and sing when
endeavoring to discover some new cure for an affliction, or to
initiate new customs that might be pleasing to the gods. The
priests often take a medicine skin of this sort and go out into the
mountains, where they fast and sing over it for hours at a time,
awaiting the coming of the spirits.

K—It is supposed
that any of the various gods have the power of calling on the
lightning to carry messages from one to the other. Wherever shown
in the symbolism of the Apache, lightning lines are drawn to
indicate communication from one god to another.

Disc L
1—Nayé̆nĕzganĭ is the first son of Stĕnátlĭhăn,
who was made to conceive by the sun’s rays as she lay asleep on the
eastern slope of a mountain. He is the War God and miracle
performer, the culture hero who in parallel legends appears in many
North American aboriginal cults. Great monsters in the form of
giant antelopes, rolling stones, and beasts of hideous conception
are supposed to have inhabited the earth for a time, destroying its
people. These monsters typify only the evils of this life; in fact
death itself is spoken of in many legends as one of the monsters,
in such form engaging in a long discussion with the miracle
performer to prove that he should not be destroyed; if he were, the
earth would become overpopulated. With his bow and arrow and
turquoise lance Nayé̆nĕzganĭ banished these curses from earth. He
himself was invulnerable as he appeared before[pg 033] these monsters, for the reason that he
always buried his veins near a tree before attacking them. After he
had killed them all, he and his younger brother, Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ,
quarrelled. The Bluebird revealed to the latter the spot where
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ kept his veins buried, so he sought them out and shot
arrows into them, thus killing him. Other myths relate how
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ was later resurrected, and he is still prayed to as
the chief War God.

Apache Girl

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

2—Dutlí̆shĭ
Skhĭn was created within the blue clouds at the time they were
made, and emerged from them. He took part in the creation,
assisting Kútĕrastan and Stĕnátlĭhăn in
finishing their work. At their direction he made a few people and
many birds and animals.

3—To Yólkai
Skhĭn is attributed the creation of all white things. He himself
was brought into existence in the white cloud, and on emerging
therefrom immediately began the work of making white rock and
shells under the direction of Kútĕrastan and Stĕnátlĭhăn.

4—Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn
is the God of Disease and Health. It is he who causes much sickness
and he who can cure any disease, if he be so disposed. Especial
care is taken by the Apache not to arouse his displeasure, and he
is supplicated and propitiated whenever disease appears among
them.

Disc M
1—Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ, the second son of Stĕnátlĭhăn,
is the God of Water, because his mother conceived as she slept one
afternoon under a ledge of rock from which drops of water trickled
upon her. In the dance for rain all prayers and songs are addressed
to him. It was he who created the ocean.

2—Yádĭlhkĭh
Skhĭn is Chief of the Sky. In the origin story the Lightning was
sent to encircle the earth to find how things appeared on all
sides. On his return he brought back with him a large turquoise
bowl containing three ill-formed persons, one of whom was Sky Boy.
Later all three were put through a sweat-bath and their bodies
perfected.

3—Yólkai Skhĭn,
described above.

4—Hádĭntĭn
Skhĭn, described above.

[pg 034]

The Ford – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1903 by E.S.
Curtis

Disc N 1—Yólkai
Nalí̆n, one of the most venerated and greatly feared personages in
the Apache mythology. She is the Goddess of Death, or rather of the
after-life, for she controls all souls that pass on to the future
world. The road to this afterworld is supposed to cross her
shoulders and is symbolized by the Milky Way, a trail made by the
departing spirits. The Apache will not utter the name of a deceased
person, because they say the dead have gone on to Yólkai Nalí̆n and
are her people. If they talked of them it might anger her, and when
their death ensues she might refuse them admittance to the eternal
paradise. This goddess is supposed to preside over the birth of
children, hence supplications and offerings are made to her
immediately before childbirth. She is invoked at other times to
withhold her call, for it is believed that she can cause death.
These prayers are addressed to Yólkai Nalí̆n through the medium of
small white shells and white stone beads. The white beads are
symbolic of purity, and through them Yólkai Nalí̆n is asked to keep
the minds of the people free from evil thoughts or deeds.

2—Dutlí̆shĭ
Nalí̆n, the Turquoise Girl, is the creator of all things green. She
has to do with the crops in the fields, and the devout Apache prays
to her every morning during the season of growth.

3—Ĕnásho
Dĭlhklí̆shĕn is the God of Intellect. He controls the minds of the
people, making their thoughts good or evil at will. It was he who
first talked to the people on earth. When a child is born its
parents often pray that Kútĕrastan will make it grow to be like
Ĕnásho Dĭlhklí̆shĕn, to whom prayers are addressed for aid when one
must talk to the people. In such case no offering of pollen is made
unless the request be presented to an image representing this god,
when pollen is sprinkled upon it.

4—Hádĭntĭn
Nalí̆n is Chieftainess of Pollen, because she causes pollen to grow
on the trees. The Indians know the function of pollen in plants and
pray that their corn and other products of the fields, as well as
the nuts and fruits that grow wild, may be fructified early in the
season, to insure good harvests.

[pg 035]

Disc O
1—Hádĭntĭn Nalí̆n, described above.

2—Nĭlchídĭlhkĭzn, Chief of the Winds. The Apache never complains of
the wind, for should he become impatient about them and give vent
to sacrilegious utterances he might anger the Wind God and thereby
bring on destructive storms.

3—Yólkai Nalí̆n,
described above.

4—Yakósha Skhĭn,
God of Moisture and also Controller of Rain. Since snow, ice, hail,
frost, dew, and fog are derived from the clouds, Yakósha Skhĭn is
sometimes termed Chief of the Clouds, but in general the clouds are
regarded as his workshop, for there is another who has direct
charge and control of them.

P, Q, R, and
S—These figures represent gods, or, in Apache, gáŭn,
who are supposed to have been made by the Sun for the purpose of
curing people stricken with bodily disease. Diseases of the body
are regarded as distinct from those of the mind. The gáŭn
live in the four cardinal directions and are impersonated in
medicine ceremonies by men wearing stick masks, who always take
stations at the four sides of the patient. These doctors are not
called in case of illness until after the four chief deities have
been supplicated, when, as a last resort, the medicine-man prays to
the gáŭn. If the gáŭn
cannot help, there is believed to be no hope for the patient. In
ancient times all animals could talk, and many were used as beasts
of burden. The bear and the deer were the horses of that time. In
the graphic representations of the Apache these four spirits are
often pictured riding deer and bear.

MEDICINE AND MEDICINE-MEN

The medicine-men
of the Apache are most influential personages. They are usually men
of more than ordinary ability, claiming, through their many deities
and their knowledge of the occult and ominous, to have supernatural
power. In sickness any individual may make supplication to the
deities, but the prayers of the medicine-men are accepted as being
most efficacious.

[pg
036]

Apache Medicine-man

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

Many of the
medicine-men have some knowledge of the medicinal properties of
plants and generally make use of them in the treatment of disease,
but their treatment consists more of incantation than aught else.
Even in collecting the plants they invoke the deities, usually
facing the cardinal points in turn. In case the prescription calls
for a combination of herbs or other vegetal products, the number
four is always strictly adhered to; it might be a decoction made of
four roots of one variety or of a single root from each of four
varieties of plants.

Every Apache
medicine-man has a medicine skin, his ĕpú̆n
ezchí, inscribed with the symbolism of the tribal
mythology. With his prayer wands he rehearses the symbolic figures,
praying to the mythical characters who are regarded as most
efficacious in the particular ailment under treatment. In his own
little kówa, or dwelling, with the
painted deerskin spread before him, on which are delineated the
symbolic representations of a score of gods comprising the Apache
pantheon, a medicine-man will sit and croon songs and pray all day
and all night in the hope of hearing the voices of celestial
messengers.

Many of the
prayers and songs of the Apache medicine-men are very beautiful.
The following is an example:

1 Stĕná pĕhí̆nda
nzhóni, tógonĭl ádahĕ bé̆oĭshkan.

2 Inaté̆sh nzhóni
bé̆oĭshkan.

3 Ĕnŭdé̆tsos nzhóni
bé̆oĭshkan.

4 Ĭnyátĭl nzhóni
bé̆oĭshkan.

5 Bé̆hnandahĭ ĭnkéhĭ
tógonĭl ádahĕ bé̆oĭshkan.

6 Ĭndú̆h bĭnandáhĕ
bé̆oĭshkan.

7 Bĕh nashálolĕzh ndĕ;
nashéyo shĭchí̃sĭgon
zhóndolĕzh.

8 Ndĕ shĭnklóho bĕh
sanandáhĕ bé̆oĭshkan.

9 Bĕh sanashádo
bé̆oĭshkan.

10 No
oskóngo
adĭshní daházhĭ bĕhnashádo ti ndĕ ta nashéyo gonzhódo.

11 Shágocho paógo
násha.

12 Akúd ndĕ sa nzhóni
yé̆sĭtchĭ yé̆atido.

13 Pídi yú̆gga sa nzhóni
yé̆kĭssĭn shí̃dĭl é̆ndo.

14 Shĭtú̆h
gozhóndolĕzh
pógo hádĭshndi.

[pg 037]

1 Stĕnátlĭhăn,
you are good, I pray for a long life.

2 I pray for your good
looks.

3 I pray for good
breath.

4 I pray for good
speech.

5 I pray for feet like
yours to carry me through a long life.

6 I pray for a life
like yours.

7 I walk with people;
ahead of me all is well.

8 I pray for people to
smile as long as I live.

9 I pray to live
long.

10 I pray, I say, for a
long life to live with you where the good people
are.

11 I live in
poverty.

12 I wish the people
there to speak of goodness and to talk to me.

13 I wish you to divide
your good things with me, as a brother.

14 Ahead of me is
goodness, lead me on.

While this
prayer is worded as if uttered by the supplicant, it is in reality
offered by the medicine-man in his behalf.

There are head
medicine-men and medicine-men of lesser degree. The man who becomes
influential enough to be considered the head medicine-man of the
tribe is more of a politician than a doctor of diseases, and in
important cases only is he called to treat in a healing ceremony.
It requires a particularly capable Indian to attain the position of
head medicine-man, for to do so he must not only make the people
subservient to his will, but must wrest the leadership from some
other and usually older medicine-man who is himself an influential
character. Unfortunately it is apt to be the most crafty, scheming
man who gains such power over his tribesmen.

A case in point
was the recent strife between Das Lan and Goshonné. For some years
the latter, an Indian of exceptional ability and withal apparently
an honest man in his treatment of diseases, was the head
medicine-man of the White Mountain Apache. Then it came to pass
that the crafty old Das Lan of the Cibicu had his vision, in which
was revealed a special[pg
038]
message brought by Chuganaái Skhĭn from Kútĕrastan to the Apache
people. This was the beginning of the present so-called messiah
craze.

Maternity Belt – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

From the first
there was promise of a battle to the end between Goshonné and Das
Lan. Goshonné well knew that if the new cult gained a firm footing
he would lose his influence and at best be but a mediocre
medicine-man. Das Lan, on the other hand, knew that he must break
the power of such a man as Goshonné, if he was to assume the
leadership. Goshonné scoffed and scorned, and would have none of
the new belief. Still, he was an Indian, and the prophecies of his
rival gradually filled him with superstitious fear, while his
followers were either deserting him openly or were secretly joining
the ranks of the enemy. Death was predicted for the members of
Goshonné’s own family, and well could Das Lan make such prophecies,
for Goshonné’s two brothers were already stricken with
tuberculosis. First one died, then the other. Das Lan could now
point to him and say, “That is what Kútĕrastan does to those who do
not believe!” It was thus that Goshonné’s power finally was broken
and Das Lan became a seer.

Sacred pollen,
hádĭntĭn, is used in all
ceremonies, particularly in those designed for healing. The
principal source of hádĭntĭn is the tule, but much
of it comes from the piñon. For prayers invoking an abundance of
corn, pollen is mixed with cornmeal. Not only do the medicine-men
use this powder, but each individual carries a small quantity of it
in a deerskin pouch somewhere about his person. In the pollen may
be small medicine trinkets—sometimes consisting of a few shell
beads from prehistoric ruins—and there is scarcely a person, old or
young, who does not have a small section of the candle cactus
fastened somewhere about his clothing.

When childbirth
approaches, the medicine-men are always summoned. Nothing can give
a better idea of the medicine rites on such an occasion, and of the
use of sacred pollen, than a description of a maternity belt
procured by the writer and here illustrated. So far as can be
learned, this belt is very old, so old that its painted symbolic
figures have been three times renewed. Belts[pg 039] of this kind are very rare, and are
hired whenever their use is required. The owner of this particular
belt, a widow, did not care to dispose of it; as she expressed it,
“it is like a husband”: the remuneration from granting its use was
sufficient to support her.

The belt is made
from skin of the mountain lion, the black-tail deer, the white-tail
deer, and the antelope—animals which give birth to their young
without trouble. Medicine-men are called in to pray to the spirits
of these animals when a woman approaching confinement puts on the
belt. It is worn for a day or so only, but constantly during the
critical period, not being removed until after the child is born.
Prayers are made, first by a mother or father for their daughter,
then by a medicine-man, and lastly by the patient to the gods and
elements depicted on the belt. These figures are all connected with
lightning lines. The first one to the left is
Stĕnátlĭhăn; on the same portion is the
Snake Girl, Klĭshcho Nalí̆n; the next is Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, the third
Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ, and the last Yólkai Nalí̆n. The sharp points around
the circular abodes of the two goddesses represent barricades for
protection. At the real homes of these deities, none can pass
through these barriers.

Each of the gods
from left to right is prayed to successively, and hádĭntĭn is sprinkled around
them afterward. Stĕnátlĭhăn is the first to be
addressed by the prospective mother:

“We are your
children. When you gave birth to your children, it caused you no
trouble. Make me like yourself, that my child, soon to be born, may
come into this world easily and quickly, without pain to me.”

Next the Snake
Girl is prayed to:

“Klí̆shcho
Nalí̆n, you came into this life with ease. Do what you can for me
now, that my child may come in like manner.”

Then to
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ:

“Help my babe,
soon to be born, to come as you did—quickly, easily, and without
pain.”

The belt in
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ’s left hand represents the one worn by his mother,
Stĕnátlĭhăn, when he was born. There
was a time when skirts, too, having the same magic power the belt
is[pg 040] supposed to possess,
were worn by women at childbirth. One such is shown in the hand of
Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ, next pictured, to whom the woman addresses a prayer
much the same as the last. The skirt also is the one worn by
Stĕnátlĭhăn when the two brothers were
born.

Medicine Cap and Fetish – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

Yólkai Nalí̆n is
the favorite goddess from whom, in their belief, the Apache women
are endowed with great beneficence. She lives in the skies, where
all souls go. The prayer to her is, as to the others, “Save me from
pain and let my child come as you did.”

Clouds at the
feet of Nayé̆nĕzganĭ typify the bounties of the world into which it
is hoped and prayed the child will be happily born.

The prayers
finished, hádĭntĭn is sifted over all the
figures. Beginning at the left, the lightning line is followed into
Stĕnátlĭhăn‘s abode, which is then
encircled, and the sacred powder is liberally sprinkled around and
over her body. Each figure is treated in like manner.

The accompanying
plate shows a medicine-cap made by Yotlú̆nĭ, a medicine-man, about
forty years ago, to cure a boy of lightning stroke which had
impaired his reason, and a small wooden image of a god recently
made to be carried by a girl troubled with nervousness. On both
these objects the gods and elements which cause afflictions and
which alone can give relief are symbolically represented.

The central
figure on the cap pictures Ndídĭlhkĭzn, Lightning Maker, with
lightning, hádĭlhkĭh, in zigzag lines above
his head and beneath his feet. The broad arch indicates clouds with
rifts in them, out of which the evil came and into which it may
return. The cross of abalone, the small white bead, and the eagle
feather are media through which Tu Ntĕlh (Wide Water), Yólkai
Nalí̆n (White-Shell Girl), and Itsád Ndé̆yu (Eagle People) are
supplicated.

The cap was worn
at night by the boy, whose parents each morning at sunrise prayed
to the various gods and elements represented on it, invoking them
to take back that which they[pg 041] had left with the boy, and adding: “Keep us
even in temper and mild and clean in action. We do wrong at times,
but that is not our wish. If our minds are kept clean we will do
nothing bad. We wish to have good thoughts and to do good deeds.
Keep our minds clear that we may think them and do them.” After
each prayer hádĭnĭn was sifted upon the
symbol representing the deity addressed.

As the boy soon
recovered, the virtue of the cap was attested, and subsequently its
owner often hired it to others.

The little
wooden image represents Hádĭnĭn Skhĭn, Pollen Boy, God of Health.
The painted figures on the skin pouch in which it is carried are
similar to those on the cap, and all are supplicated in the same
manner. The medicine-man who made the image and pouch received a
horse from the father of the patient in payment; but not the least
interesting feature of the case for which these objects were made
is that the god of the natives received all the credit for the
efficient treatment given the afflicted girl for a year by the
reservation physician.

Dry-paintings,
or figures drawn upon the ground with colored earths, were used in
the Apache healing ceremonies, but never to a great extent, and of
late years they have been practically abandoned. These paintings,
compared with the beautiful, conventional productions of the
Navaho, are crude; in making them the Apache always attempt to
picture the objects literally rather than to represent them
conventionally or symbolically.

On the
infrequent occasions when the dry-paintings are employed, the
medicine-man in charge of the ceremony directs his assistants, at
daylight, to begin the painting. When it is finished he takes his
station close to the easternmost figure of the painting, on its
northern side. At the right of the medicine-man sit twelve chosen
singers with a drum. The four masked gáŭn,
or gods, at the same time take their places at the cardinal points.
The patient then enters from the east and sits down on the head of
the large figure in the centre of the dry-painting. As he does so
the medicine-man commences to sing, and is joined by the chorus at
once. They may sing the song four times, or sing four[pg 042] different songs, or any multiple of
four, at the pleasure of the medicine-man. When the songs are
finished the four masked personages scrape the colored earths into
a heap about the patient and rub them in handfuls over his body. If
this ceremony proves to be ineffectual, it is believed to be the
will of the gods that the patient be not cured.

Das
Lan – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

THE MESSIAH CRAZE

Among the
Apache, in the spring of 1906, the excessive use of a combined
cross and crescent symbol was noted. Men, women, and children had
this anchor-like design cut into wood, tin, and metal talismans,
and also tattooed on their faces and branded on their horses. It
was used also as a decorative device in much of the new basketry
and worked in beads on their moccasins, and new shirts and waists
seldom failed to display a cross in narrow yellow and black ribbon
in front.

Four years
before this time a forceful old medicine-man living on the Cibicu,
in a remote corner of the Apache reservation, either through the
influence of a vision or other hallucination, or by a desire to
become the ruling spirit in the tribe, proclaimed the gospel of a
messiah who, he claimed, had appeared to him in the hills and would
later return to the deliverance of his tribespeople.

In childhood
this future prophet was given the name Das Lan, Hanging Up, by
which designation he is commonly known in familiar discourse among
his tribesmen; but on the census rolls of the White Mountain agency
he is recorded simply as “V-9.” On becoming a medicine-man in his
youth, in accordance with tribal custom he adopted the name—what
may be termed a professional title—Dónĭ
Tlí̆shĭ Nôĭltánsh, which signifies
Turquoise Rolling Stone.

As hitherto
mentioned, the Apache is the personification of devoutness in the
performance of his religious duties, and no matter where
circumstances may place him, he manages always to[pg 043] have a small pouch of hádĭntĭn carefully secreted
about his person for use in paying his devotions to half a score of
gods, at least once every four days. If occasion demands, he may
pray every day, or four times a day, or any multiple of four times.
This custom has a direct bearing on the story of the messiah, which
is this:

Das Lan, in a
spirit of more than usual devotion, began a series of prayers to
the gods of Life, Peace, and Plenty, delivered as usual just as the
sun appeared over the eastern mountains. On the fourth morning,
with offerings of hádĭntĭn, he invoked the
benediction of Kútĕrastan, the Creator, Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn, God of
Health, Hádĭntĭn Nalín, Goddess of Crops, and of Chuganaái himself,
the All-seeing Sun. As the fourth pinch of pollen wafted away on
the breeze there appeared the vision, immediately beneath the sun,
of a small bearded dwarf, less than three feet in height, who
approached him, and said:

“I am a
messenger sent by Kútĕrastan to talk to you. The Sun is my father;
I have just left him to come to you. You are to inform all your
people that a change is about to be made in their lives and in the
nature of the whole world. In place of this life of strife and toil
with little to eat, all, the white man as well as the Indian, will
be taken to a place where all things grow without labor, and where
there will be no rough, barren mountains, but instead broad valleys
filled with grass, trees, corn, fruits, nuts, and all kinds of game
in abundance. There, too, you will meet all your fathers and
mothers and brothers and sisters and children who have gone before
you from their homes, for they are now there. There no sickness or
death will visit anyone. The old and feeble will become strong, the
crooked straight, and the blind shall see. But to be taken, all
must have faith, believing as one, and observe these instructions I
am to leave with you. You are commissioned to instruct the people.
Those who believe must adopt the dáiita
ílhnaha, the cross and crescent, as a symbol of
faith, for it represents the shape the new world will have and the
road all must travel to reach it, and any who start on the journey
without using this sign will be[pg 044] lost on the way. When the time comes to
depart, I will return to lead you. A great cloud, open in the
centre, will come down from above and surround us all, so that none
shall see whither he goes. Until then those who would go must do as
you bid them. All males, boys or men, must have caps of deerskin
with the dáiita ílhnaha marked on them in
beads on four sides, and two eagle feathers attached to the top,
ready to wear on the journey. They must also have new shirts,
leggings, and moccasins upon which this figure has been made in
black and white.

Apache Village

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

“The girls and
the women must likewise have new clothing, bearing the sacred
symbol, ever in readiness. All their water bottles, burden baskets,
and saddlebags must also bear the sign, and should any desire to
ride horses, only the best, fleet and strong, branded upon the left
buttock with the dáiita ílhnaha, may be taken.
The permanent homes of all people living in bands under a chief
must no longer be scattered, but must be built close together in
long rows, that no time may be lost in assembling when our Great
Father wills that you depart from this life to go to that where all
is peace and plenty. Until that time, which is not far off, you
must conduct yourselves as I have directed, discarding also all old
medicine symbols for the new.”

The plain Greek
cross and the crescent have been used by the Apache as decorative
and religious symbols from early times, but this recent adaptation
of the combined form came as a sudden wave.

With an
unusually strong personality, Das Lan had long been held in fear by
those who knew him best, and with his story of the new messiah he
soon became of great prominence in the tribe. Das Lan first made
confidants of the leading spirits in the various bands, who in turn
converted others to the new faith before public announcement was
made. Having won the strongest men in the tribe through personal
appeal to their vanity, the crafty Das Lan could now remain at
home, enjoying the prosperous practice that grew out of his new
cult.

Throughout the
reservation those most deeply affected by the messiah belief have
been appointed spies over the others. If any[pg 045] persist in the use of old medicine
paraphernalia, they are reported at once and harassed by threats of
plague, sickness, ill-luck, disaster, and even death, which Das Lan
claims to be able to cause or to dispel at pleasure. Once the
threat is made, nothing unwelcome can happen to one under the ban
that is not immediately attributed, by all the medicine-man’s
disciples, to the disfavor of the gods; and nothing more potent is
necessary to convert the unbeliever, for there is no Indian reared
in the wilds who is not steeped in the belief that his gods are
all-powerful in both causing and eradicating every ill.

About two years
ago, on the Cibicu, a woman murdered her husband. She did not deny
the act, but pleaded justification, alleging that her husband was
guilty of unfatherly conduct toward his daughter. The local
authorities were very sceptical of her defence, since the murdered
man had always borne an excellent reputation among both Indians and
whites; but no contradictory evidence could be adduced upon which
to base an open trial, so the matter became quieted. After time had
cancelled the crime in the mind of the guilty, it became known that
the murder had been committed at the instigation of the scheming
Das Lan, who found the deceased an obstacle to his prophetic
assumptions, and under the guise of an order from Kútĕrastan had
him despatched. Naturally fierce, strong, and bold, Das Lan has
become more emboldened by his success as a prophet, and indirect
threats of further crafty murders are sometimes uttered by the more
fanatical members in each band when anyone presumes to defy his
creed and will.

In 1903,
throughout the White Mountain reservation, the Government farmers
found it difficult to persuade the Apache to plant the usual corn.
The following winter found them with a scant food supply, and
Government aid was neccessary to relieve suffering. The cause of
the failure to plant, none of the officials then knew; but to his
tribesmen Das Lan had prophesied the probable advent of the messiah
at that time—so why plant corn?

Another effect
of Das Lan’s prophecy is noted in the fact that although a few
years ago the Apache houses were scattered far and[pg 046] wide, now there are many villages
consisting of long straight rows of grass-thatched huts, bearing
testimony to that deep-seated superstition which in the Apache
apparently will never be eradicated.

Sand Mosaic – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

This pictures an
Apache dry-painting employed in an attempt to cure a paralytic
about the year 1882. The several figures are crude
representations of masked deities—gáŭn. The wavy lines are
lightning symbols. The patient entered upon the central figure,
when the colored earths were gathered from about him and rubbed
upon his body by masked men personating the gáŭn.

PUBERTY RITE

The ceremonial
celebration of the arrival of the period of puberty in girls is
more rigidly adhered to than any ancient religious rite or social
custom in vogue among the Apache. By this ceremony the social
position of the girl is established, and she is given assurance, on
the eve of her womanhood, of a long, happy, active life. At this
critical period, if the favor of the gods were not thus invoked in
behalf of the girl, it might augur ill for her in after life.

This Nalín
Bagúdzĭtash, or Girl Dance, is held always at dawn and is brought
to a close when the sun shines full upon the participants. The
ceremony is conducted by a woman selected from among the friends of
the girl’s parents for her comeliness, activity, and good
character. So far as the performance of the successive parts of the
ceremony is concerned, no special knowledge on the part of the
leader is required, as a medicine-man is engaged to give the
necessary directions and to sing the songs. The girl lies on a
blanket upon the ground, and her sponsor, so to speak, straightens
her arms and legs, rubs her joints, and otherwise simulates
remoulding and beautifying her body. The girl then sits up, and
those assembled dance and sing in a circle about her. An eagle
feather and a white-shell bead are tied in her hair, and sacred
pollen is rubbed on her face, in deference respectively to the bird
of war and the god and goddess of health and
fructification—Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn and Hádĭntĭn Nalín.

When the dancing
is finished the sponsor takes a basket of corn prepared for
ceremonial use and deposits it fifty yards or more to the east of
the circle. The girl arises and runs around the basket, then back
to the blanket on the ground, followed by little boys and girls.
The godmother then moves the basket farther away, and the girl runs
around it again, followed by children[pg 047] as before. This performance is repeated four
times at the east of the circle, after which the basket is carried
around to the south and the girl runs around it four times again,
then to the west, and lastly to the north. When she returns from
her fourth run at the north the girl stops on the blanket as usual,
where the basket of corn is emptied on her head. A lively scramble
for the corn follows on the part of all present, for it is deemed
good fortune to bear away a handful of the consecrated kernels,
which, if planted, are certain to be very prolific.

The act of
running out and back, followed by children, symbolically attests
that the young woman will be strong and active throughout life,
beloved by her offspring, who will always follow and obey her. That
of pouring corn upon her head is an invocation to the gods that she
may be blessed with fruitfulness.

The girl wears
her ceremonial raiment of whitened deerskin or new white muslin,
with a white feather, a stone bead, and a piece of shell in her
hair, for four days after the performance, abstaining during that
time from flesh and from food containing salt, being careful, too,
not to scratch herself with her fingers. At the end of this period
she bathes, dons her usual clothing, and partakes of the customary
food.

DANCE OF THE GODS

The Gáŭn
Bagúdzĭtash, or Dance of the Gods, is the one ceremony of the
Apache that bears any material resemblance to the many Yébĭchai
dances or “chants” of the Navaho, and even then the only feature
common to the two is that the men, typifying gods, wear elaborate
masks. The Apache are not unfamiliar with the making and employment
of dry-paintings for the treatment of the sick, as has been seen.
Originally the dry-paintings and the gáŭn,
or gods, always appeared together, but in recent[pg 048] years the Gáŭn dance has been conducted
preliminary to and as a part of medicine, puberty, and war
ceremonies. Captain Bourke, in his “Medicine-men of the Apache”
(Ninth Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1892), speaks of this as
the Spirit or Ghost dance. Though performed infrequently now, as
compared with other dances, on account of the expense and of
disapproval by the agents, the Gáŭn Bagúdzĭtash is unquestionably
the most popular ceremony conducted by the Apache.

Apache Gaŭn

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Four always, but
generally five, deities are impersonated in this dance—Gaŭnchĭné̆
of the east, Gáŭncho of the south, Gáŭn of the west, Gaŭnchí of the
north, and Gaŭnĕskí̆dĕ the fun-maker. These are arrayed in short
kilts, moccasins, and high stick hats supported upon tightly
fitting deerskin masks that cover the entire head. Each carries two
flat sticks about two feet in length, painted with zigzag lines
representing lightning.

For the dance a
circular plot of ground, fifty or sixty feet in diameter, is
cleared of stones and brush, and four small cedar trees are planted
about its edge, one at each of the cardinal points. All in
attendance assemble in a circle outside the trees, leaving an
opening at the eastern side. Unheralded the five masked personators
march in from the east and take position in front of the cedar
trees, the fifth man standing behind the fourth at the northern
side. Four drummers with small drums and an indefinite number of
drummers around a large one, at a signal from the medicine-man in
charge, who sings, begin drumming. The personated gods dance all
about the circle, making motions with their sticks as if picking up
and throwing something away, followed by blowing with the breath
for the purpose of expelling evil spirits from their midst. While
this is going on the fifth masker, Gaŭnĕskídĕ, performs antics
designed to amuse the audience. When the songs are finished the
dancers depart in an eastwardly direction, whence they came, and
all rest.

The drummers
begin the next period in the dance by beating their tomtoms. As
soon as they commence the gáŭn again appear, coming from
the east as before, and stop in single file in front of the cedar
tree on the eastern side. There the spectators[pg 049] throw hádĭntĭn upon them and offer
prayers, after which the five gáŭn take the same positions as
before in front of the small trees. Upon the trees little wheels of
cedar twigs have been hung; these the dancers now take, and each
dances toward the fire in the centre of the circle and back four
times. As the gods dance back and forth the people assembled in the
encircling line shift their positions, so that all the women are on
the north side and all the men on the south; then the entire body
dances, with brief intervals of rest, while twelve songs are sung.
The maskers next form in single file on the east, march around the
fire, through the flames of which each passes the ends of his two
sacred wands to destroy any lurking evil, then back around the
eastern cedar tree, again around the fire, then to the southern
tree, and so on to each of the four trees, when they take their
leave.

This much
constitutes that part of the ceremony in which the gáŭn
are the chief participants and which usually occupies half the
night. The remainder of the night is consumed by the performance of
some ceremony forming the principal objective—often the puberty
rite above described.

Apache Maiden

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

HOME AND GENERAL CUSTOMS

The Jicarillas,
or, as they are commonly called, “Jicarilla Apaches,” occupy a
reservation of nearly four hundred and fifty square miles of
mountainous country in northern New Mexico. Linguistically the
Jicarillas are of the same stock as the Apache of Arizona; but here
the relationship ceases, for the two peoples have virtually no
knowledge one of the other; each, according to their respective
genesis myths, had their origin in the general region in which they
live to-day, while the dialect, mythology, legends, and medicine
rites of the Jicarillas more closely resemble those of the Navaho
than any of the Apache groups. The designation “Jicarilla Apaches”
is an inheritance from the early Spaniards, who were wont to
designate as Apache any warlike tribe which had not been brought
under subjection. Such were the Apaches de Nabajú (Navaho), the
Apaches del Perrillo, the Apaches Gileños, Apaches Tejuas, Apaches
Vaqueros, Apaches Faraones, Apaches Llaneros, Apaches Lipanes, and
a host of others, of whom the Spanish missionaries and colonists
had little or no knowledge except that derived, alas, from
predatory raids on the peaceable Indians among whom they were
established. The name “Apache,” therefore, was applied in the Rio
Grande country of New Mexico in much the same way as the term
“Yavapai” was given in the Rio Colorado region of Arizona, and,
naturally enough, it still survives.

A Jicarilla

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Owing to their
composite nature the Jicarillas are a peculiarly interesting group.
Too small in numbers to resist the cultural influence of other
tribes, and having been long in contact with the buffalo hunters of
the great plains as well as in close touch with the pueblo of Taos
with its great wealth of ceremony and ritual, it is not surprising
that the Jicarillas, in life and ceremony,[pg 054] have been deeply influenced by adjacent
tribes. As previously stated, the Jicarilla medicine rites are much
like those of the Navaho, but are far simpler in character. In
dress the Jicarillas resemble the Indians of the plains, even to
the feather headdress, which is never worn by the tribes to their
south and west. Features of an annual fiesta have been borrowed
directly from the Pueblos.

The typical
habitation of the Jicarillas is a tipi, or lodge, called
kozhán, patterned after that of
the Plains tribes. Formerly they hunted the buffalo, making
periodical excursions from their mountain home to the plains and
bringing back quantities of prepared meat and large numbers of
hides, which were fashioned into tents and used for many other
purposes. To all intents and purposes, therefore, the Jicarillas
were a plains tribe. Only within recent years have they grown crops
of any kind. They exhibit fair skill in basketry, this being their
chief industry and source of barter with neighboring tribes; indeed
it was through this custom of making “little baskets” that the
Spaniards applied to them the name by which they are popularly
known. The Pueblos of the Rio Grande use many baskets, which they
obtain chiefly from the Jicarillas in exchange for corn. During
late years many of these jicarillas have been disposed of
to traders. Like the Navaho they make but little pottery, and that
only for utilitarian purposes.

The Jicarillas
seem to have no system of clans or gentes. The tribe is divided
into two bands—commonly called by their Spanish names, Olleros
(Potters) and Llaneros (Plainsmen)—within
which marriage is not prohibited. In the days of the buffalo a part
of the tribe, preferring the prairie country, remained there for a
short time and received the name Kolhkahín,
People of the Plains. The others returned to the mountains and from
the pottery they there made were called Sait Ndĕ, Sand People, sand
being used in mixing the clay. In event of marriage between members
of different bands, sons born of the union belong to the father’s
band, while daughters belong to the band of the
mother.

[pg
055]

Generally
speaking, chieftainship is hereditary, passing to the eldest son,
if there be such, otherwise to a brother, on the death of the
incumbent; but this rule might be set aside if public opinion were
strong enough to warrant it, and the chief be selected from another
family. Each band has a headman, chosen by reason of his personal
bravery and worthiness. The tribal chief, however, is the
recognized leader, the two band chiefs being little more than
figureheads.

The social
customs of the Jicarillas are well defined. A young man wishing to
marry sends a near relation to procure the consent of the girl’s
parents, with whose decision the wishes of the daughter have little
weight. If the young man meets their approval, he is sent out to
hunt, and the game which he kills is distributed among the girl’s
relations. The following day his family build a kozhán
and place in it the personal effects of the young couple, who, at
night, enter with friends and kinsfolk. A medicine-man prays to
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ, asking his beneficence toward the new home. This
ceremony lasts until midnight, when the visitors depart and the
marriage is consummated. Polygamy was common. Divorce is effected
without ceremony, the discontented one deserting the other and
leaving him or her in possession of the dwelling.

Property right
is governed by tribal laws. The wife’s belongings are inherited by
her children or, if she should have none, by her parents, not by
the husband. On the death of the husband his property passes to the
children and the wife.

The dead are
buried in secret, only a few of the close relations having
knowledge of the place. Immediately after death the body is carried
on horseback to a high point, where it is placed on the ground and
covered with the personal possessions of the deceased, such as
clothing, blankets, saddles, and weapons, and over all are heaped
brush and stones. Formerly a man’s horse was killed near his grave,
and sometimes as many as three or four horses were similarly
sacrificed at different places. In former times also the
kozhán was burned after the
burial, and members of the family cut their hair as a sign of
mourning.[pg
056]
The souls of the dead are believed to rise skyward. In one portion
of the sky, among vast herds of buffalo, all those who have met
death in battle assemble, rich and happy; in another part, those
who have succumbed to sickness and old age. The evil, or those who
have practised witchcraft, have a place apart from the rest.
Between the latter and the spirits of the good stands a high rock
wall at which the evil ones are condemned to dig for eternity in an
effort to reach the happier home. Spirits can work only in
darkness, and the work of the night is ever brought to naught by
recurring daylight.

A Jicarilla Feast March

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The Jicarillas,
like their kindred the Navaho and Apache, pay much attention to
religion and ceremony. Compared with the Navaho their life seems
almost lacking in ceremony, but when contrasted with the various
Yuman tribes on the Colorado and Gila rivers of Arizona it is
fairly rich. Their healing or medicine rites include a dance,
called Isánĕ, that occupies four days
and four nights, and many one-day “sings,” in all of which
dry-paintings are employed. Like the Apache the Jicarillas attach
much importance to the girls’ puberty ceremony and still rigidly
adhere to it.

A four-day
medicine dance is founded on the following legend:

Two maidens
lived at the bottom of a deep pit. Many of the men wished to marry
them, but the girls were well content and refused to come out. The
Bear and the Snake formed a plan to carry them off and make them
their wives. A beautiful butterfly was sent fluttering down over
the girls’ heads, but they paid little heed to its beauties.
Another was sent, then another, and yet a fourth, which was so
beautiful that the girls reached up to catch it, for they wished to
copy its splendid colors on a large basket they were weaving. But
the butterfly escaped them and flew upward, keeping ever out of
reach as the girls followed to the mouth of the pit. There the Bear
and the Snake in waiting suddenly reached over, seized the girls,
and carried them away. The people, learning of this, asked them to
bring the girls back, but the Bear and the Snake refused, so an
appeal was made to Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ and Kobadjischínĭ. These two gods
built a fence[pg
057]
around the world to keep the Bear and the Snake from escaping, and,
summoning all the people, compelled the Bear and the Snake to bring
the two young women back. The one the Bear had married had grown
very fat and coarse, like her master. “What have you done to make
this girl so fat?” demanded Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ in anger. “You must give
her medicine to make her comely again.” So the Bear sang songs and
made medicine until the girl was herself again. Then came the Snake
with the girl he had stolen. She had become thin, like her master.
“What have you done to make this girl so thin?” cried
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ. “You must give her medicine to make her well
again.” The Snake then sang his songs and made medicine until the
girl became again robust and beautiful.

As already
mentioned, the performance of this ceremony extends through a
period of four days and four nights. The day preceding is spent in
preparation: the head of the family of the sick person makes ready
for a feast, and helpers build a corral of piñon and spruce
branches. This corral is circular, about forty yards in diameter
and six feet high, with an opening at the east. To the west, close
to the fence, is the medicine kozhán. The latter part of each
morning of the four days is spent by the medicine-man and his
assistants in the kozhán, where a dry-painting of
blue, black, yellow, and red earths is made in the shape of a snake
lying in a circle with a space between the head and the tail. The
circle is about six feet in diameter, and within it are represented
numerous animals: the bear, turkey, deer, eagle, buffalo, elk,
badger, gopher, and others. A decoction is mixed in an earthen bowl
and the patient is summoned. Sand from the various parts of the
painting are sprinkled on the corresponding parts of his body, and
the medicine mixture is given him to drink.

The night
portions of the ceremony begin shortly after dark. The medicine-man
and any persons who know the songs gather in the kozhán
and sing, accompanied with a drum made of a basket inverted over a
hole in the ground and covered with a buffalo skin, the head toward
the east. The hole represents the pit in the legend, the basket the
one the girls were weaving, and a[pg 058] figure interwoven in the latter symbolizes
the butterfly of the story. The beating of the drum is varied at
intervals by the use of a leg-bone of a mountain sheep rasped
quickly over a notched stick. Any men of the tribe may enter the
kozhán, and even a white man who
is well known. The songs consist of recitals of the powers of the
medicine-man and invocations to the various animals, as the bear,
snake, and mountain sheep. Some of the songs consist merely in
naming the parts of the animal’s body, while others are supposed to
be those used by the Bear and the Snake in the legend. After
singing these songs for about three hours, with intervals of rest,
the dancing begins. On each side of the enclosure are three fires.
Behind these on the north side are the men, on the south the women;
thus a large open space is bounded by the two lines of fires, the
kozhán, and the opening of the
corral. Two women walk slowly into this space, their heads modestly
bent. They stop, and a young man approaches to ascertain with whom
they would dance. He then finds the desired persons, takes each by
the arm, and drags him out. The men always feign unwillingness to
go. In the meanwhile other pairs of women have come out and other
young men become busy finding partners for them. As a rule they
dance in groups of four, men and women facing each other and moving
backward and forward five or six steps. As the dance progresses the
man is likely to lay his hands upon the woman’s shoulders, but
modesty forbids her a similar liberty. The same pair may remain
dancing together throughout the night, or they may cease when
either desires. On the first night the dancing continues until
about midnight; the second, an hour or two longer; the third, until
well toward dawn; the fourth, until sunrise.

Jicarillas

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

On the last
night the top of a small spruce tree, tipped with eagle down, is
planted near the door of the kozhán, and a new element in the
dancing is introduced. About midnight, before any dancing has been
engaged in, the ceremonial dancers enter from two dressing
kozhán some two hundred yards
east of the corral. These consist of two parties. The first, eight
in number, enter in single file, preceded and followed by a man in
everyday[pg
059]
costume. These dancers, called Tsannatí̆,
are nude, save for the breech-cloth, with body and face painted in
white and black, and the hair hanging loose. Immediately following
them are the Chanzhiní̆,
six in number, accompanied by four keepers, two in front and two
behind. The six are nude, the bodies painted solid white with six
black stripes encircling them. The hair is painted white and is
done up into two long, stiff braids, which project from the sides
of the head like a pair of horns. The faces are hideously made up
to represent clowns, as indeed their name signifies. In dancing,
the Chanzhiní̆ and Tsannatí̆ do not take steps, but
shuffle sidewise, locomotion being effected by means of a sort of
exaggerated shivering of the legs. This movement is common to
Plains tribes in many of their dances. The whole line of dancers
proceed with their peculiar motion into the kozhán
and around the fire, passing before the patient, the
Chanzhiní̆ all the while
uttering hoarse, animal-like cries. Their utterances are always
coarse and obscene, causing much merriment, which is supposed to
aid the patient in casting off his illness. After passing through
the kozhán the Tsannatí̆ form in line outside
and with their feet keep time to the singing and drumming, while
the others break ranks and in a promiscuous throng pass before the
spectators, first on the men’s side, then on the women’s. Just
before their departure from the corral any woman who feels an
indisposition may crouch in their path near the gate, facing the
west, and the Chanzhiní̆ one by one leap over
her, first from the east, then from the other three directions,
ever continuing their hoarse cries.

These characters
make their appearance four times during the course of the night,
the spectators dancing during the intervals. After their last exit
dancing continues until shortly before sunrise; then the
medicine-man and the singers arise, and, forming a circle about the
fire in the centre of the kozhán, sing a number of songs.
A maiden is summoned from the gathering to carry a basket of sacred
meal, and the medicine-man, taking up the top of the spruce tree,
passes out of the enclosure toward the rising sun, followed by the
maiden, the patient, the singers, and any who may be afflicted with
a bodily ailment. At a distance of about a hundred[pg 060] yards the medicine-man stops and plants
the little spruce tip, to which the disease is now supposed to have
been transferred, under a tree, sprinkling over it quantities of
the sacred meal. Then each of the others, the patient leading,
steps forward, throws a pinch of the meal on the tree, and passes
on, always facing the east. When the last one has thus passed, the
procession stops, everybody holds his blanket ready, and on signal
from the medicine-man, just as the sun appears, gives it a shake
and runs at full speed to the kozhán and around the fire. Thus
is disease shaken out and the pursuit of the evil spirits of
sickness eluded.

Jeditoh – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

It is interesting to
note the difference between the Apache of Arizona and the
Jicarillas in their assignment of colors to the cardinal
directions. The former invariably associate black with the east,
blue with the south, yellow with the west, and white with the
north.

MYTHOLOGY – CREATION MYTH

In the beginning
all people, birds, and beasts were far beneath this earth,
somewhere in the darkness; there was no sun, no moon. It was not a
good place in which to live, because of the darkness. After a time
came Chunnaái, the Sun, and Klĕnaái, the Moon. They directed the
people to leave the world of darkness, showing the way they were to
go by passing up through a rift in the sky. But the sky was so far
above that the people knew of no way to reach it, so they made a
pile of sand in the form of a mountain, and painted the east side
white, the south blue, the west yellow, and the north side all
colors.[1] Then they gathered seeds from all the plants they knew
and placed them inside the little mountain. Chunnaái sent back his
messenger, Ánltsĭstn, the Whirlwind, to instruct them how to make
the mountain increase in size.

Then all
gathered about it and danced and sang, until after four days the
seeds sprouted and the mountain began to expand and to increase in
height. This continued for four days, at the end of which time the
mountain seemed almost to reach the sky; but suddenly its growth
ceased, and none knew the cause. From[pg 061] Chunnaái came Whirlwind to tell the
inhabitants how two of their maidens had entered the sacred space
on the mountain top and had wantonly broken and destroyed plants
and fruits, thus causing the mountain to cease growing.

With two long
poles and four buffalo horns, which then were straight, the people
made a ladder, which, when placed on the mountain top, reached the
sky. One of the four Great Whirlwinds, Níchitso, went up to see
what this new place was like. He put his head through the opening,
and seeing that the world was covered with water, at once descended
the ladder. The four Whirlwinds then went up; White Wind rolled the
water to the east, but still there was water at the south; Blue
Wind rolled it away to the south, but still there was water at the
west; so Yellow Wind blew it away to the west, and then there was
water only at the north, which All-Color Wind quickly blew away.
Then the Winds blew over the earth for four days to dry it; but
they left some of the water, which flowed along in streams.

When they
returned and told what they had done, the people sent Ká̑gĕ, the
Crow, who was wise, to view the land. They waited long, but Ká̑gĕ
did not return. Then they sent Little Whirlwind, who found the Crow
perched upon some dead bodies, plucking out their eyes; and because
of his wickedness in forgetting the people, his feathers, once
white, had turned black. Then Nagánschitn, the Badger, was sent
to see if the land was good, but just as soon as he had crawled
through he sank in the black mud and could go no farther, so Little
Whirlwind was despatched to succor him. To this day Badger’s legs
are black. Next Kĕldinshé̆n, the Skunk, was sent,
because he was light in weight; but even he sank in the mud and
blackened his legs. Then the people sent Cha, the Beaver, who
travelled about for a long time, and finding all the water running
away in streams, built dams and thus formed many lakes. He came
back and told the people that the land was good to live in, which
pleased them greatly. Then they started up the ladder, and when all
had passed over, it was found that their weight had bent the
buffalo horns, which ever[pg
062]
since have been curved. Thus all the people came out upon this
earth at a place in the north.3

During the first
days the Sun did not rise above the horizon, having been held back
in the east by a web that Mansché̆, the Spider, had woven
about him. But the people succeeded in tearing the web away, and
from that time the Sun each day has travelled across the whole
sky.

On emerging from
the underworld the inhabitants began moving in a great circle,
travelling from the north to the east, then to the south, then to
the west. When any found a spot that pleased them, they settled
there, and Chunnaái and Klĕnaái gave them a language of their own.
Four times the land was thus encircled, but each time the circle
became smaller, and when the people came the last time to the
north, Haísndayĭn, the Jicarillas, found their home in the
mountains near the Rio Chama.

MIRACLE PERFORMERS

During the
wanderings of the people a girl, Yólkai Ĕstsán, became separated
from the rest. She would lie all day on a hillside in the sunshine,
and the Sun saw that no harm came to her. By and by she bore a
child, whose father was Chunnaái, the Sun, and the child was
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ. Another girl, Ĕstsán Nátlĕshĭn, was fond of lying
asleep under a rock, and by the trickling water that fell upon her
Kobadjischínĭ was begotten.

Lake Lajara – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The two women
and their sons lived together. To amuse the children the mothers
made them a wheel, but cautioned them never to roll it toward the
north. Whenever he heard the sound of water, Kobadjischínĭ, to seek
its source, would leap straight into any torrent, and his mother
hoped that the toy would deter him from falling into such danger.
One day the two boys became curious to know what was in the north,
so they rolled the wheel in that direction. It went straight on for
a long time, then came[pg
063]
to a ladder leading up the steep side of a rock, up which it
rolled. The boys stopped in astonishment. The wheel rolled on down
into a cave, where lived Yíyĕ, a monster Owl, who ate human flesh.
A young girl, Yíyĕ’s slave, was sent up to see who was outside.
“Two young, fine-looking boys,” she reported. Yíyĕ sent her to tell
them to come into the cave, but this they refused to do, even when
he urged them himself, saying, “No! Give us our wheel!” But at last
the boys yielded to Yíyĕ’s persuasions and proceeded up the ladder
and down into the cave. Owl built a fire under a huge pot of water,
seized the boys, and put them into it. He boiled them a long time,
then lifted them out with a stick. They stood up and said, “Why do
you not give us our wheel and let us go home?” Then Yíyĕ became
angry and thrust them into a great heap of hot ashes and built a
fresh fire over them. After a long time he took them out, but they
were still unharmed, and only asked, “Why do you not give us our
wheel?” At this Owl became very angry and, seizing them, cut them
into small pieces, put them into the pot, and boiled them again;
but when he took them out they were alive and whole. Owl said not a
word, but gave them their wheel and motioned them to go. All this
time the mothers of the two boys knew from the Sun where they were,
and by a burning stick could tell when their children were in
danger; for if they were safe the flame burned high, but if in
danger it burned low.

Because there
were so many monsters on the earth that destroyed people, the
mothers of Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ and Kobadjischínĭ sent them on a visit to
Chunnaái to learn how to kill these evil beings. Chunnaái sent down
the rainbow, and up this the two boys climbed and went into the
house of the Sun. For Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ the Sun made a complete suit
of turquoise—shirt, leggings, and moccasins—and in his hair
fastened a long eagle feather. He gave him also huge arrows made of
pine trees pointed with flint of white, blue, yellow, and
all-colors, and a bow made of a part of the rainbow. To
Kobadjischínĭ he gave a suit of flint of many colors and a long
whip with which to drive away sickness, and in his hair he tied a
downy eagle[pg
064]
feather. Then he said to Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ, “Shoot down and see if you
can hit that tree.” So Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ shot, and the arrow shattered
the tree like a bolt of lightning.

Into the Desert – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

After his return
from the home of the Sun, Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ and his mother, Yólkai
Ĕstsán, went over to the pueblo of Taos, where in a lake lived a
monster Turtle which had destroyed many people by dragging them
beneath the water. Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ went into the village and asked
for food, but the people refused him, not knowing who he was. In
the night he sent worms into their corn, spoiling it all; and in
the morning, when they discovered it, they were filled with fear,
and said:

“You must be
some great man. In the west is a large lake, and in it a being
which has dragged many of our people into the water. Will you go
and kill it?”

“I will kill
it,” replied Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ, “but first you must give me as much
turquoise as I now have in my suit.”

This they did,
and Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ asked Chunnaái how he should kill this creature.
His father gave him four wheels—white, blue, yellow, and
all-colors. Then from the east he threw the white one into the
middle of the lake, and the water receded a little. From the south
he threw the blue wheel, from the west the yellow, from the north
the wheel of all-colors, and each time the water decreased a little
more, until a ladder leading downward was exposed. From the centre
in four directions led rows of large stones, upon which Turtle
walked in going to his house. Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ went out on one of
these stone-trails and down the ladder. At the bottom he found two
mountain lions, which he quieted by giving them eagle feathers. He
went through a long passage and successively met two fierce bears,
two snakes, and two spotted wildcats, but each in turn was pacified
with eagle feathers. At the end of the passage was a door, which
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ burst open, coming suddenly upon the great Turtle.
The monster tried in vain to seize and kill him, but Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ
took out his fire-stick, and said:

“Release the
people you have here, or I will destroy you with my
fire!”

[pg
065]

“I have only
one,” said Turtle, “and you may take him.”

When the one
came out Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ asked him if there were any more captives
in the house, and the man said there were many more. So again he
threatened Turtle, and other prisoners were released; but these
were not all, and he compelled Turtle to free still more. On the
fourth demand, however, the monster refused to give up any more of
his prisoners, whereupon Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ killed him with his fire
and smoke. Then going through the rooms he released all the people
he found. There were two young Turtles, whom he told not to grow
any larger, nor to kill people or animals; and small Turtles yet
inhabit the land.

Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ
heard that to the east of the mountains of the Haísndayĭn lived
Tzĕs, the enormous Elk, in the midst of a great high plain, which
no one could approach unseen. So he journeyed thither, thinking to
ascend the eastern side; but Elk saw him, and he went no closer.
Then he tried from the south, the west, and the north, but always
Elk saw him. At the northern side of the plain Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ heard
someone ask, “What are you doing here?”

It was
Maínĕlin, the Gopher; and when he
learned what Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ wished to do, he promised his help. So
he burrowed into the ground and came up under the spot where Elk
was lying, and just behind the shoulder gnawed away the thick hair
that protected the monster’s heart. Elk felt the gnawing, and cried
out, “Who is doing that?”

Gopher answered,
“I need fur to make a nest for my little children.”

So Elk became
quieted and Gopher went back into the ground, and from the centre
dug holes in four directions to the edge of the plain.
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ then entered one from the east, and coming to the
centre looked up and saw Elk’s heart beating. Drawing his
flint-pointed arrow to the head, he shot the monster through the
heart, then quickly dropped down into Gopher’s burrow beneath four
stones which, one below the other, stopped the vertical channel.
But first he made with his[pg
066]
fire-stick a dense white smoke at the end of the burrow that ran to
the east. Elk leaped down into the opening and rushed in the
direction of the smoke, seeking his enemy. Then in his rage he went
to the centre, but in the meantime Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ had made a cloud
of blue smoke at the south, so Elk ran thither. Successively
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ made yellow smoke at the west and all-color smoke at
the north, each time at the mouth of the burrow, and each time Elk
ran in the direction of the newly made smoke. All the time blood
was pouring from the wound in Tzĕs’ heart. At last he espied the
hole blocked with four stone doors of white, blue, yellow, and
all-colors, which led straight down from the floor of the passage.
With his great antlers the monster broke through the first three
doors, but at the fourth he fell dead. Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ divided the
meat with Gopher, and taking the greater portion on his back, for
by this time he was grown large and strong, he started back to his
mother, who was overjoyed by his safe arrival and because he had
brought such a quantity of meat. Near the village he stopped to
rest, and the weight of himself and of Elk’s body flattened the top
of the hill on which he sat. Where Elk’s blood soaked into the
ground the soil is still red.

Nature’s Mirror – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

From his father,
Chunnaái, Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ had knowledge of another evil thing and
how to destroy it. Cutting off a piece of Elk’s intestine, he
filled it with blood and fastened it about his waist. Then he told
his mother to strip off the hide and while it was still soft sew it
into a suit that would cover him completely. When the suit was
finished he put it on, hid Elk’s antlers under it, and departed
westward in search of Itsá, the Eagle, who every day killed a man.
When Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ approached the home of Eagle the latter swooped
down from his high rock and four times tried to seize him, but
could not fasten his talons in the hardened hide. At the fourth
attempt Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ allowed Eagle to take hold of his suit in
the front, whereupon the bird carried him up and up, and from a
tremendous height dropped him upon the sharp rocks. Though unhurt,
to deceive Eagle he tore open the piece of intestine,[pg 067] allowing the blood to gush out upon the
rock. Itsá told his two children to go and eat, but when they drew
near Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ made a sound, “Sh!” and they stopped in fright.
Again they came near and again heard the sound “Sh!” So the Eaglets
went to their father, perched high on the point of the rock, and
said:

“That body is
not dead, it makes a noise ‘Sh!'”

“Never mind
that; go and eat!” commanded the parent Eagle, who then flew away
for his day’s hunting.

When Itsá was
gone, Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ arose, took off the elk-skin suit, and
addressed the frightened Eagle children:

“In what weather
does your father come home?”

“In a great
storm of thunder and lightning,” they answered.

“And in what
weather does your mother come home?”

“When all the
sky is clouded and a slow rain falls.”

Presently a
great storm arose, and the Eaglets exclaimed, “Our father is
coming!” Soon the Eagle came rushing through the air, and from afar
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ heard wailing, for Eagle had a man in his talons.
From far aloft, as was his wont, he dropped the man upon the rocks.
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ took up one of Elk’s antlers and just as the great
bird was alighting on his perch hurled it at him, striking him on
the head. Listening, he heard the body drop upon the rocks far
below. Then a slow rain began to fall, and the Eaglets cried, “Our
mother is coming!” Soon the mother Eagle came. She too had a man in
her talons, and with the other horn Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ killed her. Then
he warned the Eagle children that they must not grow any larger, or
ever attempt to carry away people; and they promised to be content
with hunting animals.

But
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ found that there was no way to get down from the
rock, for it was steep and very high, so high that it made him
dizzy to look over the edge. Chunnaái told him to wait there, for
he would send someone to bring him down safely. At last
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ saw somebody below, who proved to be Bat.

“Come, help me
down!” he called.

[pg
068]

Canon Hogan – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Bat came up,
flying round and round the rock. On his back was a basket,
supported from his shoulders by two cords that looked like Spider’s
thread.

“That will not
hold me!” exclaimed Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ.

“But it will,”
answered Bat; “it will hold the biggest of mountain sheep!” And to
prove the truth of his assertion he filled the basket with stones
and jumped up and down, and the threads held. Then Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ
was satisfied and got in, and Bat began the descent. “Don’t open
your eyes!” he commanded. After a long time, feeling that they must
be near the bottom, Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ opened his eyes, but the sight
made him dizzy, and he almost fell out of the basket. Bat became
angry at this, for the lurch almost threw him from the rock. At
last, however, they reached the ground in safety.

There they
dragged the bodies of the two great Eagles together, plucked them,
and filled Bat’s basket with the feathers, which Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ
wished to take home. “Don’t go in the low places,” he advised Bat,
as the latter started on ahead. But Bat forgot, and because the
walking was easier went across the low places, where the birds
stole all the feathers for their nests; so he had to return and
fill the basket again. These he carried safely to Yólkai Ĕstsán,
who gave many of them to the people of the village.

From Chunnaái,
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ learned of one more monster on the earth, a huge
Rolling Stone, which lived in the south near the pueblo of Picuris;
so he and his mother went southward. They stopped in a cañon
through which Rolling Stone often passed on its way to and from the
village, and by and by it came crashing along, destroying
everything in its path. Just as it passed, Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ shot with
one of his great flint-pointed arrows and shattered it, as he had
shattered the tree when Chunnaái first gave him his weapons; and
the ground in that spot is still red from the blood that flowed
from Rolling Stone’s heart.

ORIGIN OF FIRE

Black Man,
Haschí̆n Dí̆lhĭli, was created by Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ to be his helper
in the task of making the earth a good dwelling-place for the
people. Haschí̆n made the animals, mountains, trees, and rivers,
gave the people weapons and implements, and showed how they were to
be used. When all were supplied with houses to live in and weapons
with which to protect themselves and to kill game, he called
Coyote, Tsilité̆n, the Mimic.

“Go to the Land
of the Fireflies,” he commanded, “and bring back their fire, for
the people have no fire with which to cook their food.”

Coyote started,
and found the Land of the Fireflies. These beings lived at the
bottom of a deep, deep hole—an enormous cave in the solid rock. Its
sides were smooth and straight, and how to get down Coyote did not
know. He went to the edge of the pit, and there found growing
Little Tree.

“Help me down to
the Land of the Fireflies,” he said. So Little Tree sent its roots
down, down, down, until they extended quite to the bottom, and
Coyote descended. There he played with the little Firefly boys,
romping about, running back and forth, pretending to be thinking of
nothing but their amusement, for the Fireflies guarded their fire
carefully and would let no one touch it.

On the tip of
his tail Coyote had tied a tuft of cedar bark. Suddenly he dashed
through the great fire which always burned in the centre of the
village, and was off before the Firefly people knew what he had
done. When they discovered that he had stolen some of their fire,
they set out in pursuit; but Coyote was very swift of foot, and
reached the wall of the pit far ahead of them.

“Little Tree,
help me out!” he called.

Little Tree drew
its roots up, up, up, while Coyote held on and was drawn safely out
of the hole. Then he ran quickly about among the people, lighting
the piles of wood they had prepared, until every family was
supplied with fire.

HOME LIFE, ARTS, AND
BELIEFS

Under the Cottonwoods – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The Navaho are a
pastoral, semi-nomadic people whose activities centre in their
flocks and small farms. Their reservation of more than fourteen
thousand square miles is the desert plateau region of northern
Arizona and New Mexico. Its mesas and low mountains are sparsely
covered with piñon and cedar, and on the higher levels are small
but beautiful forests of pine. Back and forth in all parts of this
vast region the Navaho drive their flocks. At the season when the
slight rainfall produces even scant pasturage on the desert plains
the flocks are pastured there; but as the grass becomes seared by
the summer sun and exhausted from pasturing, the flocks are taken
into the mountains, where the shade of the pines lends grateful
coolness. Again, as the deep snows of winter come, the sheep and
goats are driven down to the wooded mesas, where there is little
snow and an abundance of fuel, of which there is none on the
plains. And so, year in, year out, the flocks slowly drift back and
forth from plain to mesa and from mesa to mountain.

While the Navaho
leads a wandering life, the zone of his movements is surprisingly
limited; indeed the average Navaho’s personal knowledge of his
country is confined to a radius of not more than fifty miles. The
family usually has three homes, the situation of which is
determined by the necessities of life. Near their summer home they
cultivate small crops of corn and vegetables in narrow, sandy
washes, where by deep planting sufficient moisture is insured to
mature the crop. In a few sections small farming is conducted by
means of irrigation. In Cañon de Chelly, which may be termed the
garden spot of the reservation, there are diminutive farms and
splendid peach orchards irrigated with freshet water. The cañon
drains an extensive region, and even a light[pg 074] rain causes the stream which flows at
the base of its lofty walls to become swollen. This water the
natives divert to their miniature cornfields and orchards, one or
two freshets assuring good crops.

Cornfields in Canon Del Muerto – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Owing to its
lowness and its earth covering, the Navaho house, or hogán,
is the most inconspicuous of habitations. One might ride from
morning till night across the reservation and not observe either a
hogán or an Indian, although he has no doubt passed within a
stone’s throw of many of these houses and been peered at by many
more dark eyes from brush concealments. At the end of a long day in
the saddle the traveller may wonder where the many thousands of
Navaho reside; but his inquiry may be answered if he will but climb
to the summit of one of the many low mountains and view the
panorama as the long shadows of evening are creeping on. Here and
there in every direction the thin blue smoke of the campfire may be
seen curling upward as these desert people prepare their evening
meal. In this clear, rare atmosphere the far distant horizon is the
only limit to his vision. Just below, a mile or so away, may
perhaps be seen the smoke from a group of half a dozen hogáns.
Miles beyond is another group, and still beyond another, and so
throughout the sweep of vision. These people and their life are
delightfully Indian, but slightly influenced by the white man’s
ways. As the chief human touch of the great southwestern desert the
Navaho are the artist’s joy, and as a subject for the ethnologist
their ceremonial life furnishes limitless material for study.

The handicraft
of the Navaho is seen at its best in their blanketry, which is one
of the most important industries of any Indians within our domain.
The greater portion of the wool from their hundreds of thousands of
sheep is used in weaving, and in addition a considerable quantity
of commercial yarn is employed for the same purpose. The origin of
the textile art among the Navaho is an open question. It is
probable that they did not learn it from anyone, but that it
developed as a part of their domestic culture. It is contended by
some that the early Spanish missionaries taught the Navaho to
weave; but why should the white man be accredited with this art?
The mummies[pg
075]
found in the prehistoric cliff-ruins of the Navaho country are
wrapped in cloth finer than any ever produced with a Navaho loom,
and no doubt now remains that Pueblo people were incorporated by
the Navaho in ancient times.

The blankets
made in earlier days, say from fifty to a hundred and fifty years
ago, are beautiful examples of primitive handicraft. The body of a
so-called bayeta blanket was woven of close-spun native wool, dyed
dark blue, while the red pattern was from the ravellings of Spanish
bayeta. Much of the beauty of the old blankets is due to the
mellowing of the native colors by age, but practically none of
these rare examples are to be found among the Navaho at the present
time. The blankets of to-day may be roughly divided into three
classes: 1. Those made from the close-spun native yarn dyed in the
old colors and woven in the simple old patterns; when aged they
closely resemble the old bayeta blankets. 2. Blankets woven in a
great variety of designs from coarse, loose-spun yarn dyed with
commercial dyes of many shades; these are the Navaho blankets of
commerce. 3. Those woven from commercial or “Germantown” yarn; they
are of fine texture and sometimes beautiful, but lack interest in
that their material is not of Indian production. Fortunately the
decrease in the demand for blankets woven of commercial yarn is
discouraging their manufacture.

The Navaho woman
weaves her blanket not so much for profit as for love of the work.
It is her recreation, her means of expressing imagination and her
skill in execution. Civilized women may write books, paint
pictures, or deliver ringing addresses; these are unknown worlds to
the Navaho woman: but when after months of labor she finishes a
blanket, her pride in her work of art is indeed well justified.

Because of their
pastoral life the Navaho are not villagers. Their dome-shaped,
earth-covered hogáns are usually grouped two or three in the same
locality. The summer house is a rude brush shelter, usually made
with four corner posts, a flat top of brush, and a windbreak of the
same material as a protection against the hot desert siroccos. The
hogán proper, used for storage[pg 076] during the summer, affords a warm and
comfortable shelter to its occupants through the cold winters of
their high altitude. When a hogán is built it is ceremonially
consecrated, and if an occupant should die in it, it is forever
deserted and is called tsí̆ndi hogán, “evil house.” No
Navaho will go near such a house or touch anything taken from it.
If a meal were cooked with decayed wood from a hogán a hundred
years deserted, a Navaho, even if starving, could not be induced to
partake of it. Thus strong are the religious beliefs of this
primitive people.

The Blanket Maker – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The domestic
equipment of the Navaho is simplicity itself and reflects the
simple life of the tribe. Of household furniture there is none. The
bedding consists usually of a few sheepskins; cooking utensils are
earthen pots of their own making, and cups, knives, and spoons of
civilization. Plates they do not need, as the family eat directly
from the pot in which the food is cooked. The principal food is
mutton, boiled, and corn prepared in many ways. Considerable flour
obtained from traders is consumed; this is leavened slightly and
made into small cakes, which are cooked over the embers like
Mexican tortillas.

The women are an
important factor in the Navaho tribe. The sheep usually, and the
house, with all that pertains to it, always are the property of the
wife. The independent spirit of the women, instilled by this
incontestable property right, manifests itself throughout the
tribe, and by reason of it the Navaho husband is not apt to seek an
opportunity to criticise his wife so long as she is in a position
to say, “If I and the hogán do not suit you, go elsewhere!”
Polygamy is common, but as a rule the wives of one man are sisters,
an arrangement conducive to domestic harmony.

Many of the
Navaho men are skilled silversmiths. Every well-to-do Navaho
possesses a silver belt consisting of a dozen or more wrought oval
discs, each about two by three inches, fastened to a leather strap.
Such a belt, weighing several pounds, is of course a valuable piece
of property. The wearer may also have a broad silver bracelet set
with turquoise, a heavy string of silver beads with a massive
pendant of the same material, and a[pg 077] pair of deerskin leggings with a row of
silver buttons on the outer side. Frequently their horses are gaily
bedecked with bridles and saddles heavily weighted with silver
ornaments. The long strap over the shoulder, from which the pouch
of the medicine-man is suspended, is always studded with silver
buttons. Mexican coins, especially the peso, are the principal
source of all this silverwork, the Navaho preferring this coin to
our own dollar because it is heavier. Buttons and beads also are
made from American dimes and twenty-five cent pieces; the small
beads from dimes, and the larger ones from two coins of the same
value. They learned silversmithing from the Mexicans, but since
their first lessons have developed a high degree of individuality
in the art. While the metal-work of the Navaho at the present time
is practically all in silver, only a few copper objects being made,
their earliest work in metal was with iron, and occasionally an
example of this is found. The silver and shell bead jewelry of the
Navaho is his savings bank. During times of prosperity he becomes
the possessor of all the jewelry his means afford, and when poor
crops or long winters threaten distress he pawns it at a trader’s,
so that many of the traders often have thousands of dollars’ worth
of silverwork and shell beads on hand at one time. The system seems
to be a very fair one, and in time of stress is certainly a boon to
the impecunious Navaho.

The little
pottery made by this people is an undecorated ware for utilitarian
purposes only. For carrying water a gum-coated water bottle of
basketry is in general use. Few baskets are made, and these are of
but a single pattern—a flattish tray for use in ceremonies. Most of
the baskets used by the Navaho in their ceremonies, however, are
purchased from neighboring tribes, especially the Havasupai and the
Paiute, who weave them primarily for purposes of trade. Such
baskets must be of a prescribed pattern, with a break in the design
at one side. When the basket is in use this side is always placed
toward the east.

Most Navaho
ceremonies are conducted, at least primarily, for the purpose of
healing disease; and while designated medicine ceremonies, they
are, in fact, ritualistic prayers. There are[pg 078] so many of these ceremonies that no
student has yet determined their number, which reaches into scores,
while the component ritual prayers of some number hundreds. The
principal ceremonies are those that require nine days and nine
nights in their performance. Of the many now known the names of
nine are here given: Kléjĕ Hatál, Night Chant;4
Tzĭlhkí̆chĭ Hatál, Mountain Chant; Hozhónĭ Hatál, Happiness Chant;
Natói Hatál, Shooting Chant; Toi Hatál, Water Chant; Atsósĭ Hatál,
Feather Chant; Yoi Hatál, Bead Chant; Hochónchĭ Hatál, Evil-Spirit
Chant; Mai Hatál, Coyote Chant. Each is based on a mythic story,
and each has four dry-paintings, or so-called altars. Besides these
nine days’ ceremonies there are others whose performance requires
four days, and many simpler ones requiring only a single day, each
with its own dry-painting.

Pĭké̆hodĭklad
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

This, the first of
the dry-paintings employed in the rites of the Mountain Chant—a
nine days’ healing ceremony of the Navaho—as in the Night Chant,
is used on the fifth night, when the purpose of the performance
is to frighten the patient, and thus banish the evil within him.
The name of this painting, “Frighten Him On It,” is identical
with that of the one used at the corresponding moment in the
Night Chant.

The whole represents
the den of a hibernating bear. Inside the ceremonial hogán is
thrown up a bank of earth two or three feet high, with an opening
toward the doorway. Colored earths picture bear-tracks leading
in; bear-tracks and sunlight—sun dogs—are represented at the four
quarters, and the bear himself, streaked with sunlight, in the
centre. The twigs at the entrance of the bear den represent
trees, behind which bears are wont to dig their dens in the
mountain side. Everything tends to make the patient think of
bears. He enters midst deep silence and takes his seat upon the
pictured animal. The play of his imagination has barely begun
when a man, painted and garbed as a bear, rushes in, uttering
hideous snarls and growls, in which all assembled join. Women
patients seldom fail to faint.

The figures
shown in the dry-paintings are conventionalized representations of
the characters in Navaho mythology and of incidents in the myth.
With how many such paintings the Navaho medicine-men are familiar
is an unanswered question; but more than sixty have been noted,
some of them most elaborate. In making them, the ground within the
ceremonial hogán is evenly covered with fine brown earth, upon
which the figures are drawn with fine sands and earths of many
colors allowed to flow between the thumb and the first two fingers.
The Navaho become so skilled in this work that they can draw a line
as fine as a broad pencil mark. Many of the paintings are
comparatively small, perhaps not more than four feet in diameter;
others are as large as the hogán permits, sometimes twenty-four
feet across. To make such a large painting requires the assistance
of all the men who can conveniently work at it from early morning
until mid-afternoon.

The most
elaborate ceremonies are conducted between the first frost of
autumn and the second moon following the winter solstice. While
primarily designed to restore the health of an individual, they are
intended also to benefit the entire tribe, many of the prayers
being offered for the general welfare of the[pg 079] people rather than for the patient
under immediate treatment. Nor, so far as the individual is
concerned, is the ceremony designed necessarily for the cure of an
acute ailment, but is for the treatment of long-standing chronic
afflictions, mental or physical. Especially peculiar is the Navaho
belief that many illnesses are the results of fright to which
ancestors have been subjected during prenatal life, and long and
costly ceremonies are often performed to rid persons of such
baneful inheritance. In fact Indians physically normal have
submitted to prolonged treatment by their medicine-men when advised
by them for such imaginative reasons to submit to it.

The
medicine-men, who are termed singers, hatálĭ,
are a dominant factor in the Navaho life. Like all primitive
people, the Navaho are intensely religious, and the medicine-men,
whose function it is to become versed in the mysteries of religion,
are ever prone to cultivate in the minds of the people the belief
that they are powerful not only in curing disease of mind and body
but of preventing it by their incantations. Anyone who possesses
the requisite ability may become a medicine-man, but owing to the
elaborate ceremonies connected with their practices it requires
long years of application ere one can attain sufficient knowledge
to give him standing among his tribesmen. To completely master the
intricacies of any one of the many nine days’ ceremonies requires
close application during the major portion of a man’s lifetime. The
only way a novice has of learning is by assisting[pg 080] the elders in the performance of the
rites, and as there is little probability that opportunity will be
afforded him to participate in more than two or three ceremonies in
a year, his instruction is necessarily slow. The medicine-men
recognize the fact that their ritual has been decadent for some
time, and they regard it as foreordained that when all the
ceremonies are forgotten the world will cease to exist.

Hástĭn
Yázhĕ – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The most
pronounced dread manifested by the Navaho is that derived from
their belief respecting the spirits of the dead. It is thought that
the spirit leaves the body at death and travels to a place toward
the north where there is a pit whence the gods and the animals
emerged from an underworld before the first Navaho were created,
and which the dead now enter. Their myths tell of the disappearance
of a beautiful daughter of one of the animal chiefs on the fourth
day after the gods and the animals came up into this world;
diligent search was unrewarded until two of the searchers looked
down through the hole and espied her sitting beside a stream in the
lower world combing her hair. Four days later death came to these
searchers, so that now the Navaho will go to any extreme to avoid
coming into contact with spirits of the dead, tsí̆ndi, which they believe
travel anywhere and everywhere at will, often doing evil, but never
good. The body is prepared for burial previous to death, and is
never touched afterward if it can be avoided.

To the end that
the spirit may begin aright its journey to the afterworld, the body
is taken out of the hogán through an opening specially made in the
wall on the northern side, for the doorway always faces the east.
The immediate relatives of the deceased avoid looking at the corpse
if possible. Friends of the family or distant relations usually
take charge of the burial. A couple of men dig a grave on a
hillside and carry the body there wrapped in blankets. No monument
is erected to mark the spot. Before the body is taken out, the
hogán is vacated and all necessary utensils are carried away. The
two men who bury the remains of the former occupant carefully
obliterate with a cedar bough all footprints that the relations of
the deceased may have[pg
081]
made in the hogán, in order to conceal from the departed spirit the
direction in which they went should it return to do them harm. The
premises are completely abandoned and the house often burned. Never
will a Navaho occupy a tsí̆ndi hogán, and when
travelling at night he will take a roundabout trail in order to
avoid one. Formerly horses were killed at the grave. So recently as
1906 a horse was sacrificed within sight of a Catholic mission on
the reservation, that its spirit might accompany that of a dead
woman to the afterworld. This horse was the property of the woman,
and her husband, fearing to retain it, yet not daring to kill it
himself, called upon another to do so.

HISTORY

Although raiders
and plunderers since known to history, the Navaho cannot be
designated a warring tribe, for however courageous they may be,
their lack of political integrity has ever been an obstacle to
military organization. They never have had a tribal chief, properly
so called, while their many leading men could never command more
than a small following. Manuelito, who was acclaimed head-chief in
1855 at the conference with Governor Meriwether for the purpose of
negotiating a treaty, probably had a greater following than any
other Navaho in historic times, but he could never have relied on a
majority of the warriors of his widely scattered tribe. Although
divided into many bands, like the Apache, the Navaho, unlike them,
were not engaged in ceaseless depredation, their sporadic raids
having been conducted by small parties quite independent of any
organized tribal movement. They preferred rather to follow a
pastoral life. With their large population, had they possessed the
Apache’s insatiable desire for war and a political organization
that permitted concerted action, the subjugation of the Southwest
would have been far more difficult than it proved to be.

While the
statement is made that the Navaho were never a warlike people, it
must not be presumed that they never caused our Government trouble.
Those familiar with the Navaho[pg 082] admire their energy, industry, independence,
and cheerful disposition, and their ability to attack the problems
of life in a way that no other wandering tribe has exercised. On
the other hand, cunning and trickery are among their
characteristics, and they are expert horse-thieves. With the
Indian, as well as with civilized man, honesty may be interpreted
in various ways. If one should leave his camp equipage unprotected
in a tent, it would be entirely safe from all except the renegade,
already recognized by his people as a thief. But if one should turn
his back and later find that his horse had been run off by a Navaho
in the hope of being rewarded for returning it, the tribesmen of
the raider would regard him as one whose cunning should be
emulated.

Navaho Hogan

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

For a long
period prior to the acquisition from Mexico of the territory now
forming the northern portion of Arizona and New Mexico, which,
since first known, has been occupied in part by the Navaho, the
tribe had been in the habit of making raids on the New Mexican
Indian pueblos and the white settlements along the Rio Grande,
chiefly for the capture of livestock, although both Indians and
Mexicans also were taken and enslaved. The Mexicans lost no
opportunity to retaliate, with the result that scattered throughout
their villages in the valley of the Rio Grande there were more
captives of Navaho blood than there were Mexican prisoners among
the Navaho tribe; but in the matter of sheep, cattle, and horses,
the Navaho were far ahead in the game of thievery, and even boasted
that they could easily have exterminated the Mexicans had they not
needed them as herders of their stolen flocks. In consequence,
bitter enmity early arose between the Mexicans and the Navaho,
which reached its height about the time Col. Stephen W. Kearny took
possession of the territory in behalf of the United States in
1846.

In the year
named a military expedition was sent into the Navaho country for
the purpose of making a treaty of peace and friendship with this
marauding tribe; but this treaty, like several others that
followed, was soon broken, and the raids continued as before. In
1858 the troubles arising from the plunderings became especially
severe and led to several other expeditions, but with[pg 083] little result. The problem became a
serious one in 1861, when the Civil War necessitated the withdrawal
of troops from the frontier, leaving the way open to the
devastation of the country by the Navaho and Mescaleros, until
General Carleton, who assumed command of the military forces in New
Mexico in 1862, formulated a policy to thoroughly subdue the Navaho
and to transfer them to the Bosque Redondo, on the Rio Pecos in New
Mexico, where Fort Sumner had been established, and there hold them
as prisoners of war until some other plan could be devised. His
plan was successfully carried out. By the spring of 1863 four
hundred Mescaleros were under guard on the new reservation, and by
the close of that year about two hundred Navaho prisoners had
either been transferred thither or were on the way. Early in 1864
Col. Kit Carson led his volunteers to the Cañon de Chelly, the
Navaho stronghold, where in a fight he succeeded in killing
twenty-three, capturing thirty-four, and compelling two hundred to
surrender. The backbone of the hostility was now broken, and before
the beginning of 1865 about seven thousand, later increased to
8491, were under military control within the new reservation. But
the Bosque Redondo proved unhealthful and disappointing as a
reservation, while its maintenance was costly to the Government. A
treaty was therefore made with the Navaho in 1868, one of the
provisions of which was the purchase of fifteen thousand sheep to
replenish their exterminated flocks. In July 7304 Navaho, the
remainder having died or escaped, arrived at Fort Wingate on the
way to their old home, where they have since lived in peace and
prosperity.

MYTHOLOGY – CREATION MYTH

In the world
below5 there
was no sun and no moon, and therefore no light, yet vegetation in
innumerable forms and[pg
084]
the animal people thrived. Among the latter were Gray Wolf people,
Naklétso; Mountain Lion, Nashtuítso; Badger, Naaschí̆d; Locust,
Wónĕschĭdĭ; Pine Squirrel, Klozĕslskái and Klozĕslzhí̆nĭ; Blue Fox,
Mai-Dotlí̆shĭ; Yellow Fox, Mai-Iltsói; Owl, Náscha; Crow, Gấgĕ;
Buzzard, Jésho; four different varieties of the Hawk people, and
many others.

Navaho Still Life

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

Their world was
small. At its eastern rim stood a large white mountain, and at the
south a blue one. These formed the home of Ástsĕ Hástĭn, First Man.
A yellow mountain in the west and a black one in the north harbored
Ástsĕ Ĕstsán, First Woman.6 Near
the mountain in the east a large river had its source and flowed
toward the south. Along its western bank the people lived in peace
and plenty. There was game in abundance, much corn, and many edible
fruits and nuts. All were happy. The younger women ground corn
while the boys sang songs and played on flutes of the sunflower
stalk. The men and the women had each eight chiefs, four living
toward each cardinal point; the chiefs of the men lived in the east
and south, those of the women in the west and north. The chiefs of
the east took precedence over those of the south, as did those of
the west over those of the north.

One day, led by
their eight brave chiefs, all the men went off on a hunt. It
occurred to the head-chief when they had been gone but a short time
that the women should have been instructed to clean the camp
thoroughly and bake a quantity of bread while all the men were
away; so he despatched the youngest of the four chiefs of the south
to the camp to make[pg
085]
known his wishes, but instead of doing as bidden, the young chief
visited with the head-chief’s wife. The hunters were gone four
days, at the end of which time they returned with much game, weary
and very hungry. To their surprise they found the camp in a very
unkempt condition and no bread baked in anticipation of their
return. The messenger was called before the head-chief at once and
questioned as to the directions he had given the women. He
explained that he had told the chief of the women what they were
expected to do, but she refused to listen to him, and he was
powerless to do more. Then the head-chief went to his wife and
demanded to know why she had refused to issue his orders to the
women. She curtly replied that that was her business and not his;
as it was, the women did more work than the men, for they tilled
the fields, made the clothing, cared for the children, and did the
cooking, while the men did practically nothing, so if they chose to
spend a few days in idleness, it was nothing more than they had a
right to do and no one’s concern but their own. The chief became
angry, and during a quarrel that ensued he was told that he and all
his followers might leave if they would, for the women could get
along better without them.

Remonstrance and
reasoning availed nothing; the chief of the women grew more
vehement as she argued, so the head-chief determined to put the
women to the test. The following morning he issued orders that all
the men in camp prepare to depart, for the women had declared they
could live better independently of them and were to be given an
opportunity to do so.

Having decided
to cross the great river flowing from the east, work at once began
on four large cottonwood rafts to be used as ferries. Four days it
took to put all in readiness, and at dawn of the fifth day the
crossing of the stream began. Orders were issued that all food
supplies, clothing, and utensils be left with the women, save
enough seed corn to plant crops the next spring, and no males,
infant or aged, were to be left behind. Four nú̆tlĭ
(hermaphrodites) objected strongly at being taken from the women,
but were forced to join the men, as they were needed[pg 086] to care for the babies. Four old
cripples, too weak to move, were left behind, but other than these
not a male inhabitant remained in the old village at the end of
four days. After all had crossed the river, the rafts were fastened
securely to the bank in order that the women might not get them and
follow.

Navaho Medicine-man

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

As soon as the
men had landed they began to work with zeal, for houses had to be
built, game caught, skins tanned, and land prepared for crops. They
suffered much from scarcity of food and clothing the first winter,
but managed to exist. The women, however, had bountiful crops, and
all through the late fall and winter could be heard revelling in
great delight, feasting daily and dancing much of the time to the
music of songs sung by the four old cripples. The following autumn
found the men in much better circumstances, for they had grown
small crops; but the women were less fortunate. Having none but
themselves to work and provide for, they had become negligent from
the beginning, dissipating the contents of their granaries and
allowing their fields to grow fallow. By the end of the second year
clothing had become very scarce, and not knowing how to hunt, they
had no way to obtain more skins. The men, on the contrary, had
grown more prosperous; their well-tended farms yielded an ample
supply of corn for the winter, and the pelts of deer and antelope
furnished a deal of warm clothing and bedding. The third year found
the men living in ease and comfort, while the women had become
reduced to absolute want, many having fallen ill from self-neglect.
They called across to the men, pleading to be taken over and
promising faithful allegiance, but the chief was resolute and
refused to forget how he had been wronged.

Then it was that
the youngest of the eight ruling men, in a moment of compassion,
confessed his guilt, admitting in a plea to the head-chief for
clemency that he was in fact responsible for the attitude his wife
had taken. This served only to renew the old chief’s anger; he
stoutly refused to listen to further appeals and expressed his
regret that the first seeds of wrong should have been thus sown. No
longer able to keep up the fight,[pg 087] with starvation staring them in the face, and
being in nakedness, at the end of the fourth year the women
attempted to swim the river in parties, but the attempts resulted
only in death, for the swift current would have been too much even
for the strongest men to buffet. Seeing this self-sacrifice and
realizing that the race would be ultimately exterminated if the
women continued it much longer, appeals were made daily to the
head-chief to permit the rescue of the remainder. Four times was he
sought to grant such permission before he consented, then at dawn
of the fifth morning he gave directions to loose the rafts and
ferry the women over. A miserable remnant they were, unclad, wan,
and wasted; but a return to the old habits of life soon restored
them to their former selves, and peace, happiness, and prosperity
reigned again.

The broad river
that flowed from the east had its source in two very large springs,
a he-spring and a she-spring, in which lived two large Water
Monsters. These had a pair of youngsters who delighted in emerging
from the depths of the spring and swimming out across the meadows
in the shallow water where there was neither current nor river
banks. Coyote spied them one day, and being ever a meddler and
trouble-maker—though withal a fellow of polished mien—stole them,
putting the two under the folds of his jacket.

Now there was no
sun, moon, or stars to give light; but in the east every morning
appeared White Dawn four fingers high. The midday was lighted by
Blue Dawn in the south, and late afternoon by Yellow Dawn from the
west. The north remained always dark. On the morning following
Coyote’s return from his trip to the east, ostensibly to discover,
if possible, the source of the dawn, the head-chief noticed that it
was not so broad as usual—only three fingers high, with a dark
streak beneath. A Wolf man was sent to learn what was wrong. He
hurried off, returning at nightfall with the report that all was
well in the east. The next morning White Dawn was much narrower and
the darkness beneath had increased. A Mountain Lion messenger was
despatched to seek the cause. He reported everything[pg 088] in normal condition, but those in camp
noticed deer in the distance travelling westward at a rapid pace.
The third morning the belt of darkness was wider than White Dawn,
which now gave an alarmingly dim light. The chief then sent White
Hawk to investigate the trouble, under orders of haste. His report,
like that of each of the other messengers, was that nothing unusual
appeared in the east. More deer, antelope, and other game animals,
however, were seen running westward in apparent fright.

Through the Canon – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

On the fourth
morning White Dawn was entirely obscured; nothing but darkness
appeared in the east. Sparrow-hawk sped away, returning in a very
brief time with the report that water was fast rising in the two
springs at the head of the river and might soon spread westward in
a great devastating wave. Instantly the camp became a scene of
commotion. Quickly gathering together what corn and other seeds
they could carry, the people started in haste for the White
Mountain in the east. On reaching the top they saw the waters
climbing rapidly up the eastern slope, so they descended and ran to
the Blue Mountain in the south, taking with them handfuls of earth
from its crest, and from its base a reed with twelve sections,
which a Wolf man carried.

From the top of
the Blue Mountain it was seen that the wave of water, fast
approaching, would submerge them, so snatching handfuls of earth
from it they hurried on to the Yellow Mountain in the west. The
oncoming wave seemed higher than ever, so again they ran on, this
time toward the north, where the Black Mountain stood, taking as
before handfuls of earth and another reed, entrusted to Mountain
Lion. Here the water surrounded them and slowly crept up the sides
of the mountain. The female reed from the west was planted on the
western side near the top, the male reed from the east on the
eastern slope, and both at once began to shoot upward rapidly. Into
the twelve internodes of the female reed climbed all the women,
while the men made haste to get into theirs. Turkey being the last
to get in, the foamy waters caught his tail, whitening the tips of
the feathers, which are so to this day.

[pg 089]

The reeds grew
very rapidly, but equally fast rose the waters around them. Four
days the reeds grew thus, at the end of the fourth day meeting at
the sky. This seemed an impenetrable barrier for a time, but Locust
had taken with him his bow of darkness and sacred arrows. With
these he made a hole in the sky and passed on into the world
above—the present earth.

The earth was
small, devoid of vegetation of any kind, and covered in greater
part by water in which lived four Monsters with great blue horns.
These had their homes at the cardinal points, and just as soon as
Locust made his appearance arrows came whizzing at him from all
quarters. Failing to harm him with their arrows, which he dodged
with ease, the Monsters bade him leave at once, threatening
immediate death if he tarried; adding that visitors were not
desired and were always destroyed at sight.

Locust replied
that he intended no harm, but would insist upon remaining with them
for a time, for he had many followers for whom he was seeking a
home. Seeing that Locust had no fear of them and had proved too
agile to be hit with arrows, the Monsters sought to kill him by
trickery. Each took two heavy arrows, swallowed them, and pulled
them out through their flanks, saying, “Do this and you may
remain.” Locust followed their example, escaping unharmed.

“Now,” said he,
“I did your trick, let me ask you to do one of mine.” Then taking
four sacred arrows he passed them transversely through his chest,
back and forth, one at a time. As he pulled each arrow out the
second time he passed it to one of the four Monsters, saying, “If
you can do this, my people will not come; if not, then I shall send
for them and we shall all make this our home.” Each placed an arrow
to his chest and pushed, but cringed with pain as soon as it
penetrated the skin. Fearing the Monsters might not proceed, Locust
quickly blew toward each of the arrows, which shot through their
bodies, instantly killing them. In the east now flows Red river,
made red by the blood of these Monsters; and holes yet remain
through the thorax of the locust.

[pg 090]

Impatient at the
delay in Locust’s return, Badger climbed through the hole in the
sky and followed the tracks to where Locust had been in controversy
with the slain Monsters. Seeing their bodies lying out in the
shallow water, he thought he would go over and inspect them, but he
sank into the soft black mud, which made him retreat. The mud
blackened his legs, which have remained the same to this
day.

Evening in the Desert – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

With a large
stone knife Locust cut off the horns of the Monsters one by one.
With those from the one toward the east he made a long sweep with
his arm in that direction, and in the distance sprang up an ocean.
In like manner he formed oceans to the south, west, and north with
the horns of the remaining three. The creation of rivers followed:
with a wave of the hand the Rio Grande, the San Juan, the Colorado,
the Little Colorado, and others were made. Hair pulled from the
bodies of the Monsters was tossed to the winds and from it sprang
frogs, snakes, lizards, and reptiles of every kind.

While Locust was
doing this the remainder of the people came up. They stood about on
the small bare spots of ground wondering what to do. Among them
were the four Winds (Ní̆lchi), Black, Blue, Yellow, and White. Each
blew toward his respective cardinal point and soon much of the
water dried up, leaving a quantity of bare land. But not a sign of
vegetation was there at any hand; all was as barren as the desert
sands. Luckily each had brought seeds of many kinds from the world
below. These they began planting, finishing the task in four
days.

After the
planting, First Man, First Woman, Wolf Chief, and Mountain Lion
Chief each made a speech advising the creation of a number of
mountains similar to the ones they had had in the lower world. This
was agreeable to all, and accordingly the work was begun. The
handfuls of earth caught up hurriedly from the tops of the
mountains below as they were driven off by the rising flood were
taken to the cardinal points and deposited in the same relative
positions, an equal distance apart, as were the submerged mountains
from which the earth had been taken. First Sí̆snajĭnĭ, the White
Mountain, was[pg
091]
made in the east; then Tsótzĭlh, the Blue Mountain, in the south;
next Dokóöslit, the Yellow Mountain, in the west, and lastly
Dĕpé̆nsa, the Black Mountain, in the north. Having yet portions of
each handful of earth remaining, two more mountains, called Chóĭli
and Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, were made near the point of emergence in the
middle of the rectangle formed by the creation of the other four.
To give each mountain color, white shell, turquoise, abalone, and
jet were used for those at the cardinal points, while the middle
two were colored with a mixture of all these substances.

When the
mountains were finished and the people looked about, it was
proposed that a sky should be made to cover the earth. “But,” said
one, “what of the earth itself; is it not too small to furnish food
for the people who shall later come to live upon it?” None had
thought of this, but reflection, followed by a discussion, brought
them all to the one opinion—they would enlarge the earth and at the
same time spread the sky above. Accordingly, the chief who had
spoken asked if anyone had a piece of turquoise weighing as much as
a man, and the skin of a large male deer which had been smothered
to death in pollen. First Man answered that he had. A large white
shell and the skin of a doe which had been smothered in pollen were
next requested. First Woman responded with them. The two skins were
then placed on the ground, side by side, with their heads toward
the east. Upon the one was put the turquoise and a piece of abalone
shell; on the other the white shell and a pearl. First Man and
First Woman then called for Kósdĭlhkĭh, Black Cloud, and Ádĭlhkĭh,
Black Fog. These came and spread out over the skins four times
each, lifting and settling each time. When Fog lifted the last time
it took up with it the skin with the turquoise and abalone and
began to expand, spreading wider and wider until a blue film
covered all, in the form of the sky. As the turquoise skin
expanded, so also did the white-shell skin, broadening the earth as
it grew. During this period of transition the people all travelled
eastward, and being Holy People, covered great
distances[pg
092]
each day. At the end of the fourth day they stopped. Then also the
sky and the earth ceased widening, having reached their present
dimensions. Since the two skins had been placed with their heads
toward the east, the heads of the sky and the earth are now in that
direction.

Hasché̆ltĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

This, the Talking
God, is the chief character in Navaho mythology. In the rites in
which personated deities minister to a suffering patient this
character invariably leads, carrying a four-piece folding wand,
balíl, and uttering a peculiar
cry.

As yet there was
neither sun nor moon to shed light, only dawn, circling the horizon
in the four colors—white in the east, blue in the south, yellow in
the west, and black in the north. Deeming it necessary that they
should have light to brighten the world, and warmth for the corn
and the grass, on their return to the earth’s centre one of the
chiefs made a speech advocating the creation of a sun and a
moon.

First Man and
First Woman placed two sacred deerskins on the ground as before. On
the buckskin a shell of abalone was placed, on the doeskin a bowl
made of pearl. The shell contained a piece of clear quartz crystal,
and the bowl a moss agate. The objects were dressed respectively in
garments of white, blue, yellow, and black wind, and were carried
to the end of the land in the east by First Man and First Woman.
With their spirit power Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán sent both the
shell and the bowl far out over the ocean, giving life to the
crystal and the agate as they did so, directing that the one who
would be known as Chĕhonaái, the Sun, should journey homeward
through the sky by day, shedding light and warmth as he passed; the
other, Klĕhonaái, the Moon, must travel the same course by night.
To each were given homes of turquoise in the east and west, and
none but the Winds and the gods, Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan, were to
visit them.

Upon their
return Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán were asked if they would leave
the sky in so plain a condition, or if they intended to beautify it
with jewels. They replied that it was their intention to dot it
with many bright stars. All those who had bits of white shell,
turquoise, crystal, pearl, or abalone were directed to contribute
them for the making of the stars. These were placed upon the two
deerskins by First Man and First Woman. The seven stars of the
Great Dipper, Nôhokos Bakú̆n,[pg 093] were the first to be set in the sky. Next,
those of Nóhokos Baád, his female complement, were placed in the
blue dome. Then followed Ĕté̆tso and Ĕtĕtsózĭ, Sóntso and Sontsózĭ,
and Dílgĕhĕt, the Small Dipper, Sonhótsĭ and Klĕkái Stáĭ, the Milky
Way.

In each instance
the arrangement of the stars in the constellation was made when the
fragments of precious stones were placed upon the skins, where
Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán imparted glowing light to them and
delivered them to the Winds to carry to the sky. Only a small
portion of the gems had been thus transformed and sent up, when a
fine-looking, well-dressed stranger came up to watch the
proceedings. In reply to his question as to what was being done,
his attention was directed to the sun, the moon, and the many stars
already created, while more were soon to follow. The man was
Coyote, son of Darkness. He watched the work for a time, when,
seeing his chance, he caught the large deerskin containing the pile
of jewel fragments and flung it skyward, blowing into the bits four
times ere they could fall, scattering them all over the sky. Thus
it is that there are myriads of stars irregular in arrangement and
without names. As he strode off Coyote explained curtly that there
were already enough sacred things to worship.

Then the Winds
were stationed at the horizon to guard the earth, and at the four
sacred mountains in the east, south, west, and north, to act as
messengers for the Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan—Talking Gods and House
Gods—who had their abodes on them. On the same plane, one behind
the other, the Winds were ranged in streaks, White, Blue, Yellow,
and Black. Outside of all Coyote placed a streak of Red Wind. This
forced itself to the inside many years later and gave rise to
disease and premature death, for as the good Winds are
life-breathing, so the evil Winds are life-taking. Even now the Red
Wind takes the lives of many children every year.

[pg 094]

Haschógan
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Second in general
importance only to Hasché̆ltĭ among Navaho deities is the House
God, here shown. His position among the gods is quite parallel
with that of peace chief among Indians in life. Like the majority
of the myth characters he has numerous counterparts in the
various world quarters.

The Dĭgí̆n made
their homes near Chóĭli, close to the place of emergence. It was
there that all ceremonies took place. From their homes the people
saw a dark Cloud settle and cover the top of Chóĭli. For four days
it kept lowering until the mountain was completely shrouded in dark
blue fog. They did not know whether it portended good or evil, but
realized that something of moment was at hand. Ástsĕ Hástĭn
ascended the mountain through the fog to learn what it meant, but
found nothing unusual. As he turned to descend, a faint, apparently
distant cry reached his ears, but he paid no heed. Ere long the
same sound came to him again; then a third and a fourth time,
whereupon he turned and walked in the direction whence it came. On
the eastern slope he found a tiny baby, and wrapping it in rays of
sunbeams he carried it home to his wife.

The Cloud that
descended was a portion of the sky which had come to meet the
Earth; from the union of the two Yólkai Ĕstsán, White-Shell Woman,
was born. In twelve days the baby had grown to maturity, subsisting
on pollen only. Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán sent messengers to
all the Dĭgín to tell them of the marvel and to summon them to a
ceremony which would be held four days later. Word was sent also to
the gods on the four sacred mountains.

Ástsĕ Ĕstsán
dressed Yólkai Ĕstsán in fine garments ornamented with beautiful
jewels. At the western side of her hogán she placed a sacred
deerskin and laid upon it several wool and cotton blankets,
covering the whole with a mountain-lion skin. These were arranged
as the seat of honor for White-Shell Woman, for whom was about to
be held a ceremony celebrating her maturity.

On the appointed
day all assembled. The first matter to decide was the number of
songs to be sung. Some wished fourteen, others thought twelve
sufficient. Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, sang the songs and chose to
sing fourteen. When he had finished, each of the Holy People sang
six songs, making in all two hundred and eighty-two. An entire
night was thus consumed. At dawn Ástsĕ Ĕstsán came into the hogán
with a white-shell bowl containing yucca root, a black tózŭs,
or water bottle,[pg
095]
containing black rain, and a blue one with blue rain. From each
bottle she poured a little water upon the yucca root and proceeded
to wash Yólkai Ĕstsán and all her finery. That done, Yólkai Ĕstsán
was directed to run toward the rising sun for a short distance and
return. Many of the young people followed, a chosen singer chanting
eight songs during their absence. The ceremony finished, the
assemblage returned to their homes, each of the selected singers
taking one of the blankets from the seat in return for his
services.

Although all the
people then on earth were of the Dĭgí̆n, only a few had god-like
powers, particularly First Man, First Woman, Yólkai Ĕstsán, and the
Winds. The lesser Holy Ones worked much in clay, making pottery and
adobe houses. The designs they used in their earthenware, however,
were of a sacred nature, to be used only in ceremonials, and when
the Fox, Wolf, Badger, Bird, and many other people repeatedly
employed sacred symbols to adorn their cooking pots, First Man and
his wife became very angry and called a council, which, in addition
to themselves, was attended by Chĕhonaái, Yólkai Ĕstsán, and
Ní̆lchi, the Wind People.

The wicked
people had homes throughout the land, many of which were built of
stone, upon the plains, and others in the cliffs. The councillors
decided that these people and their homes must be destroyed, but
how to effect this was a problem.

First Woman and
Chĕhonaái thought it would be wise to give birth to demoniac
monsters and let them devour the evil ones, but First Man objected,
and finally the council agreed that the Winds should perform the
task by bringing forth a devastating storm. The faithful were
warned and given time to seek refuge under the water, inside the
sacred mountains, in the higher cliffs, and in the sky. Then the
Winds came. For four days terrific storms raged, hurling men and
trees and houses through the air like leaves. When they abated
hundreds of houses lay[pg
096]
in ruins which may yet be traced by heaps of stones scattered
throughout the Navaho country.

Antelope Ruin – Canon del Muerto

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Soon another
council of the same dictators was called, this time to discuss how
more people might be created. First Man sent Wind messengers to
bring Black Fog Boy and Black Cloud Girl, Precious Stone Boy and
Precious Stone Girl, White Corn Boy and Yellow Corn Girl, Blue Corn
Boy and All-Color Corn Girl, Pollen Boy and Cricket Girl, and Rain
Boy and Rain Girl. These twelve were laid side by side on four
sacred deerskins and covered with four others. The Spirit Winds of
the west came and blew between the skins; the Spirit Winds of the
east came and blew also; then came Hasché̆ltĭ from the east, with
rainbows in his hand, calling “Wu-hu-hu-hu-u”; and Haschógan from
the south, with sunbeams in his hand. They walked up and gently
tapped the skins with their bows and beams. Hasché̆ltĭ of the west
and Haschógan of the north came next and gently tapped the skins.
Then the skins lifted, revealing twelve beautiful young people
perfectly formed. Ástsĕ Hástĭn bade them arise and stand, and then
with Hasché̆ltĭ in the lead and Haschógan behind, they four times
encircled the sacred mountains Chóĭli and Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, halting
close to the hole whence the Holy People emerged. There Ástsĕ
Hástĭn made them an extended speech, telling them that they had
been brought forth from the elements to people the earth; that they
must rear children and care for them as kind fathers and mothers,
teaching them to be good to one another; and that it would be
necessary for them to plant corn and other seeds at once. The
Dĭgí̆n, First Man continued, were about to leave, to go into the
rivers, the oceans, the cliffs, the mountains, off to the horizon,
and to the sky, but they would ever keep watch over their people
and would help those who showed them respect and reverence in
prayer and song. To Yólkai Ĕstsán was entrusted future guardianship
of the people. It would be her duty to furnish the he-rain and the
she-rain, to fructify all crops, and bring forth abundant grass and
seeds.

Then the Dĭgí̆n
took their departure, vanishing the people knew not whither. Yólkai
Ĕstsán turned westward to her whiteshell[pg 097] home on the horizon, far out across the wide
waters. Arriving there she determined to make a few more people.
Cuticle rubbed from her body, with bits of white shell, turquoise,
abalone, and jet, she placed between two sacred deerskins, male and
female, and called for the Spirit Winds of the east, the Spirit
Winds of the west, Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan, who came and breathed
upon and tapped the deerskins as once before, and lo! there arose
four pairs of people.

Each pair was
given a walking-stick—one of white shell to one, staffs of
turquoise, abalone, and jet respectively to the others. Black Fog
and Black Cloud came and spread out over the water. Upon these the
new people took up their journey eastward to join others like
themselves. For four days they travelled on Fog and Cloud, reaching
the earth at the end of the fourth day, where, on the following
day, they were welcomed by Chĕhonaái, the Sun. There, too, the
Bear, the Wolf, the Great Snake, the Mountain Lion, the Weasel, and
the Porcupine met them at the direction of Yólkai Ĕstsán, to guard
them on their long land journey. The Lightning also she made, to
protect them from above.

They journeyed
eastward, stopping to camp and rest at the end of the first day.
For water they had but to prod the earth with their walking-sticks
and a spring gushed forth. The first of the four, the man of White
Shell, stuck his staff into the ground and water came up at once.
“The water is close,” he remarked, from which speech he took his
name, for the others henceforth called him To Ahánĭ, Water Is
Close. The following night the Turquoise Woman brought water, but
it was bitter, so she said, from which fact she took her name of To
Dĭchínĭ, Bitter Water. The man who tried for water on the third
night found only a muddy flow, so the others called him
Hashklí̆shnĭ, Mud. The fourth night they camped in sight of the
Dĭné̆ (Navaho) whom they had come to join. The woman of the fourth
pair called attention to the houses in the caves, after which they
called her Kí̆nya Ánĭ, Houses in the Cliffs.7

[pg 098]

The following
day they were welcomed by the twelve who had been created and given
dominion over the land but a short time before, and from these
twenty have the pure-blood Navaho descended.

MIRACLE
PERFORMERS

Nayé̆nĕzganĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Two of the most
important characters in Navaho mythology are twin
miracle-performing sons of White-Shell Woman, Yólkai Ĕstsán,
chief goddess. This plate pictures the leader of the two—the
first conceived and the first-born, whose father is the sun. His
name means “Slayer of Alien Gods,” from aná, alien; ye, gods; agánĭ, to kill. By him, with
the assistance of Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, his twin brother, were killed
numerous bird, animal, rock, and human monsters, typifying evils,
who wantonly destroyed human life.

When the Spirit
People came upon this earth from below they made six sacred
mountains, four on the distant horizon at the cardinal points and
two in the centre, Chóĭli and Tzĭlhnúhodĭíhlĭ. On the eastern slope
of Chóĭli, brought forth as the daughter of Earth and Sky, was born
Yólkai Estsán, White-Shell Woman. First Man took her to his home
near Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, where she matured in twelve days into a
beautiful woman with supernatural powers. Later she lived in a home
of her own at the foot of this mountain. It was while there that
she gave birth to twin boys who became saviours of their people,
slaying alien gods who were fast depopulating the earth.

Yólkai Estsán
would often lie on the eastern slope of the mountain as the sun
rose through the morning, and when the day grew warm would seek the
shade of jutting rocks from which trickled shining drops of water.
Quite unknown to herself she had conceived one day from the
sunbeams and the dripping water. When she became aware that she was
to become a mother Yólkai Ĕstsán was made very happy, for she did
not enjoy living alone. Soon she found herself the proud possessor
of twin boys. The first-born and the stronger came to be known in
his youth as Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, Slayer of Alien Gods; the other was
always known as Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, Born From Water. Their prenatal
life covered a period of only twelve days, and maturity was
attained in thirty-two days after passing through eight changes,
one of which came every four days.

At that time the
earth was infested with great giants, foreign gods, who were
rapidly destroying the people. Of these, Yéĭtso, Big God, as large
as a mountain, was the only one in human[pg 099] form. The others were Man-eating Bird,
Rolling Stone, that crushed all in its path, Tracking Bear, and
Antelope, who killed without mercy. Fearing lest some of these
monsters learn of the presence of her boys, Yólkai Ĕstsán kept them
hidden away on the mountain side, but they chafed under
confinement, so she made them bows and arrows and let them play
about, but admonished them not to stray far from home. The boys
promised to obey, but not long afterward, because in reply to their
questions their mother told them she did not know who their father
was, they became sulky and broke their promise, going off toward
the east. They would go and search for someone who knew. When on a
small knoll a long way from home they heard a whispered “Sh-h.”

“Are you afraid,
my younger brother?” asked Nayé̆nĕzganĭ.

“No!” was the
quick response.

Four times they
heard the whisper, and then two of the Wind People appeared. “We
saw you travelling eastward,” said they, “and came to caution you.
The land is cursed with alien gods who kill for pleasure; beware of
them! Why do you journey thus alone without your father?”

“Our father!
Alas, we know nothing of him and are now starting on a search to
learn. Do you know who he is?” asked the boys.

“Yes, the Sun is
your father; but if you think to find him you will have to travel
far eastward and cross the wide, wide waters.”

Nayé̆nĕzganĭ
turned to his younger brother and said, “Sítsĭlĭ, let us go.”

The Sun was then
overhead. Being in fact of a holy nature, the boys covered distance
rapidly and by mid-afternoon had passed well beyond the limits of
their homeland. There they[pg
100]
came upon an old woman sitting beside a ladder projecting from a
hole. She asked them who they were and whither they were going.
They told her to the Sun, whose sons they were, but whom they had
never seen.

Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

This is Born From
Water, the second of the twin miracle-performing sons of Yólkai
Ĕstsán, the White-Shell Woman. His brother is Nayé̆nĕzganĭ.

“I pity you, my
grandchildren,” said the old woman; “come in here and rest a moment
before going on.” She started down the ladder and the boys
followed. Twelve ladders were descended before her home was
reached. The old woman was Spider Woman, the little grandmother who
belonged to the Holy Ones. Her home was well kept, clean and
comfortable, and the boys were glad to rest. Said she, “My
grandchildren, your journey is long and many trials will beset you
before you reach the end. Take these life feathers; they will help
you; if difficulties befall you, use them,” and she gave to each
two feathers plucked from a living eagle.

The boys took
the feathers, thanked her, and resumed their journey. After
travelling a long way they came to a ridge of loose, yellow sand.
It afforded poor footing for an ascent, but the boys struggled to
the top, only to have the whole side of the ridge slide and carry
them back. Three times the bank gave way as they were about to
reach its crest; on the fourth trial they bethought themselves of
the sacred feathers, and putting them on their feet marched readily
over.

They travelled
unimpeded then for quite a long distance, in time coming to four
rows of tall, thorny reeds with spiked branches. The reeds grew far
enough apart to permit travellers to pass into them, but closed
whenever the unwary allowed himself to be caught, and he never
escaped. The boys marched boldly up to the reeds and started in,
then darted back quickly. The reeds closed instantly, but did not
catch them. Then they put the life feathers on their feet again and
jumped over all four rows.

The next
obstacle was a deep cañon with precipitous walls. This, however,
was not a serious impediment, for the life feathers, as before,
helped them to cross it in one bound. By nightfall the boys had
arrived at a broad, beautiful meadow where lived the Wósakĭdĭ, or
Grasshopper People, who received them kindly,[pg 101] giving them food and beds for the
night. On being asked whither they were bound, the boys replied
that they were journeying to the home of the Sun, their father,
whom they had never seen.

The Wósakĭdĭ
cautioned the boys of dangers ahead, and as they were about to
depart in the morning gave them little balls of yellow sputum to
put in their mouths to prevent poisoning, should they find it
necessary to eat or smoke among hostile people, and two sacred
wands of turquoise and white shell. Two of the Wósakĭdĭ also
accompanied them for a time as guides.

They had not
been long on their way when they came to a place where the trail
ran between two high, smooth-faced bowlders. “These,” said their
Wósakĭdĭ companions, “are the Bumping Rocks. If you step into that
narrow passageway between them they will crash together and kill
you.” The boys started as if to enter, but fell back. The huge
rocks came violently together, but did no harm. The feint was made
three times, and each time the rocks crashed together and bounded
back. The fourth time the boys entered they placed their sacred
wands of turquoise and white shell across the gap above their heads
and passed through, for these held the bowlders apart. As they
emerged on the opposite side they saw the Sun rising from his
eastern home and he was yet far away.

Soon a wide
stretch of water was encountered; so far as they could see there
was nothing but water. Here again they used their life feathers and
were carried safely over. Four successive stretches of water and
land were crossed, and still a fifth sheet of water lay before
them. Along its shores paddled many varieties of animals. The boys
looked out across the deep and could discern away out in the centre
a house of turquoise and white shell, its roof glistening in the
sunlight. Certain that it must be the home of their father, they
readjusted their life feathers to start across, but found that they
had lost control over them. They tried them several times in
different places, but to no avail.[pg 102] The thought of not reaching their father’s
house when so near filled their hearts with bitter disappointment.
Seemingly there was naught that they could do, but they sat and
pondered.

Hasché̆zhĭnĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Black God, the God of
Fire. An important deity of the Navaho, but appearing
infrequently in their mythology and ceremonies.

As they sat
there in silence, Snipe Man, a little old fellow, came to them and
asked, “Where do you go, my grandchildren?”

“To the home of
the Sun,” the boys replied.

“Do you know
anyone there?”

“Yes,” said
they, “the Sun is our father.” Thereupon Snipe Man placed a rainbow
bridge across the water and told them to pass on, first warning
them against two large Bears, the Lightning, Snakes, and Wind, who
guarded the home of the Sun. They crossed over the rainbow bridge,
which took them almost to the door of the house, and there they
were met by the Bears with bristling coats. Nayé̆nĕzganĭ spoke to
them, saying, “I am the child of Yólkai Ĕstsán.” They let him pass.
Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ uttered the same words and passed on also. The same
words took the boys past the Lightning, the Snakes, and the Wind,
and they entered the house, going through four doorways before
coming to the living-rooms in the interior.

There they found
an elderly woman, radiantly beautiful, with two handsome boys and
girls, the like of whom they had never seen. They stood transfixed
as if in a dream until the voice of the beautiful woman, who was
the wife of the Sun, startled them, demanding to know how they
dared to enter a sacred place forbidden to all save the Dĭgí̆n.

Nayé̆nĕzganĭ
replied, saying, “This is the end of our journey. We came to see
our father, the Sun and this we are told is his home.”

The wife raged
with anger, making dire threats against her husband if what the
boys asserted were true, which she did not doubt since they had
found it possible to gain entrance to her home. Could it be that he
was the father of many of whom she knew nothing? She would find
out. Surely he must have smiled upon most ugly creatures if these
two boys were his sons!

It was about
time for the Sun to return. As his wife thought of what he might do
to the boys, her anger turned to compassion,[pg 103] and she bade them wrap themselves in
the clouds that hung on the wall, and hide. Ere long a great rattle
was heard outside, and a moment later the Sun came striding in and
hung up his glistening shield. “What strangers are here?” he asked.
There was no answer. Again he asked the question, repeating it a
third time and a fourth, waxing angry. Then his wife began to
scold. She told him that two boys of his, the ugliest creatures she
had ever looked upon, had come to see their father, and demanded to
know what it meant. “Where are they?” asked the Sun; but his wife
did not reply to the question; instead she kept on scolding. The
Sun looked about, and noting a change in the clouds that hung upon
the western wall, took them down and unfolded them, until he
discovered Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ.

The Sun became
angrier than ever and determined to have done with the trouble at
once by killing the boys. From the eastern wall of the room
projected numerous sharp spikes of white shell. There were
turquoise spikes in the southern, abalone in the western, and jet
in the northern walls. The boys were each hurled against the first
of these, but dropped to the floor unharmed; then against the
second, the third, and the fourth, with a like result. On the floor
near the walls sat four large mortars with heavy pestles in them.
The boys were placed in each of these successively and pounded, as
their father thought, into fragments, but out of this also they
came unharmed.

The Sun then
waved them to a seat and brought forth four large pipes, two of
abalone and two of lignite. He handed two of each to the boys,
saying, “I wish you to have a good smoke.”

“Beware!”
whispered the Wind. “His tobacco is poisoned!”

The boys deftly
sought the little balls they had received from the Wósakĭdĭ,
slipped them into their mouths, and began puffing. When the first
pipefuls were finished they laid the pipes on the floor and picked
up the other two, showing no sign of distress.

Seeing that the
poison tobacco was having no effect on the youthful strangers, the
Sun sent for Haschógan and Hasché̆zhĭnĭ,[pg 104] the House God and the Fire God, to come and
build a sweat-house and heat large stones as hot as they could be
made, so that they might burst into fragments and fill the
sweat-lodge with scalding steam when water was poured upon them. By
the time the boys had finished their second pipes, which proved as
harmless as the others, the little house and heated stones were
ready. Haschógan made the lodge of stone and covered it with earth,
erecting double walls on the northern side with a space between,
into which he provided an entrance from the inside, concealed with
a flat stone slab.

Ganaskĭdĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

This is the
personation of the Navaho God of Harvest. The name signifies
“Hunchback.” He is represented always in a stooping posture,
carrying a staff to aid him in supporting a burden of corn, bean,
pumpkin, and other seeds which he carries upon his back. The
personation is conventional, rather than literal, in intent.

The Sun looked
into the lodge, saw that it was tight, and told the boys to enter.
As they passed in Haschógan whispered, “Get behind the stone slab
on the north!” Then Hasché̆zhĭnĭ rolled in several red-hot bowlders
and closed the entrance tightly with heavy cloud blankets. White,
blue, yellow, and black water was then thrown in, and there
followed the sounds of the sizzling steam and bursting stones;
fragments could be heard striking the walls on all sides. After a
short while the boys heard the voice of their father call out from
the east, “Are you warm?” They gave no response. He called again
from the south, but received no answer; then from the west; all was
silence. “Surely I am rid of them at last,” thought he. He called
once again from the north, and to his great surprise received a
reply. The sweat-house had cooled enough to permit the boys to
emerge from their hiding-place, so their cheerful voices came from
near the doorway.

“These must be
my sons,” thought the Sun, and throwing back the blankets from the
door he embraced them. “My children, whence came you and how did
you get here?”

The story of
their home at Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, of their long journey across land and
water, and of the many obstacles encountered, was soon told. Then
the Sun directed his wife and daughters to remould the boys and
make them as handsome as themselves. When that was done all entered
the house, where on the walls hung many beautiful strings of
turquoise, abalone, white-shell, and jet beads, and plates of
armor. These were[pg
105]
offered to the boys, but they refused them, saying they cared not
for jewels, preferring instead to have lightning arrows, strong
bows, and heavy knives with which to battle with the giant alien
gods who were destroying people in all parts of the earth. The Sun
gave them the weapons desired, and when it came time to resume his
journey across the sky he took his newfound sons with him.

Near Tsótzĭlh,
the sacred mountain of the south, lived Yéĭtso, the Big God. The
boys wished to try their skill on him first, so their father let
them down from the sky upon that mountain. The giant was drinking
from a lake and saw the reflection of his new enemies as they
dropped upon the mountain. He straightened up quickly and sent an
arrow aimed for the body of Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, but the boy dodged
quickly and responded with a bolt of lightning which stripped the
armor from Yéĭtso’s feet. Three more shafts of lightning struck the
armor from the hips, body, and head of this fiercest of giants,
exposing his vitals to the attack of the boys, who filled him with
arrows, killing him instantly. The Big God’s blood began to flow
down a cañon. Nayé̆nĕzganĭ drew a line across its path with his
stone knife, and the blood ceased flowing onward, rising in a wall
across the cañon’s head, over which now plunges a beautiful
waterfall.

The brothers
then set off for home, taking the heart of their slain enemy with
them. Arriving at Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ they found their mother in tears,
for she was certain that her boys had been killed and devoured by
monsters. Though unchanged in size, so altered were they in
appearance that Yólkai Ĕstsán could not believe them to be her own
boys whom she was mourning as dead, but the story of their
adventures from the time they had left home was soon told, and all
rejoiced.

In the days
following, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ made incursions into the
lands of the alien gods, killing them all and freeing the earth
from the dread and curse of these man-killing[pg 106] monsters. The first to meet destruction
at their hands when they took up their deliberate search for giants
was Déĭlgĕt, Giant Antelope, who had great blue horns upon which he
tossed people to death. The next accosted was Tsĕ Nahálĭ, the
preying Mountain Eagle, and soon after they sought and killed
Tsĕtahídzĭlhtúhlĭ, Among The Rocks He Kicks Them Down The Mountain.
Then Bĭnáyeaganĭ, Who Kills With His Eyes, met death, followed
shortly after by Tsé̆agai, Rolling Bowlder, and Sŭsh Nalkái,
Tracking Bear, the last to lose their lives at the hands of the
youthful warriors, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschínĭ, who have since
remained the War Gods of the Navaho.

LEGEND OF THE HAPPINESS
CHANT

Tónenĭlĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Tónenĭlĭ, Water
Sprinkler, is the Rain God of the Navaho. He it is who sends the
rain, the hail, and the snow, and causes thunder and lightning.
The personator of this god in the ceremonies assumes the
additional character of a clown and as such creates much
merriment in the dances in which he appears. His apparel consists
principally of spruce boughs and a mask.

The Hozhónĭ
Hatál, or Happiness Chant, is a nine-days’ chant held inside a
hogán, and like many of the Navaho ceremonies, it was derived from
another tribe. The myth relating to it tells of a renowned warrior
who had two beautiful sisters whom he wished to see married, but
only to men who should first prove their strength and valor in a
feat of arms; so word was sent to all the young men of the
warrior’s tribe to gather at his home on a certain day, prepared
for war, if they wished to enter a contest he would then propose.
The girls being coveted prizes, a goodly number of warriors,
painted and dressed in full war regalia, assembled on the appointed
day, among them being two old, white-haired brothers, of an alien
tribe, who had recently come to live near the Navaho people. The
young chief protested at the presence of the old men, declaring
that they would only sacrifice their lives in the first combat, for
they could have no possible hope of success. The two persisted,
however, and were allowed to remain in the van.

Four-days
journey from the Navaho country was a village of the Áya Kĭnné̆,
Have Holes For Houses, enemies from early times. They also prided
themselves on having two very beautiful girls, upon whom many
admiring young men of the tribe bestowed valuable presents of
turquoise, shell beads, and other jewels. One[pg 107] of these wondrous beauties wore her
hair plaited always with rich strings of turquoise; the other with
strings of white shell.

“To the two
men,” said the vaunting young Navaho, “who will fight their way to
the homes of these boasted beauties and bring to me their
jewel-plaited scalps, will I give my sisters.”

The band
started, each man eager and hopeful, and on the fourth night
bivouacked in sight of the cliffs under which the hated Áya Kĭnné̆
had their homes. At daybreak on the following morning they made
their attack on the pueblo, but the villagers, ever alert and well
prepared for an onslaught, offered desperate resistance, every man
fighting bravely for his life and his family. All day long the
contest raged; arrow, lance, and stone hammer dealing death on
every hand. As nightfall shrouded the combatants in darkness, the
invaders, depleted in rank, slunk back to their camp on the hill,
where they found the two gray-haired brothers, each bearing a
jewelled scalp as his trophy.

When the Navaho
chief learned that the old men were the victors, he raged with
anger, condemning his tribesmen and vowing that his sisters should
never become the wives of unknown aliens, and accordingly declared
a new contest. The man who would win a beautiful wife must hit the
blade of a yucca plant with an arrow at forty paces. The long,
narrow blade was hung in the bark of a tree and the contest
commenced. The younger men shot first. One by one they twanged
their bows, and one by one marched off in sullen humor. At last it
came the turn of the aged brothers. The first shot his arrow, and
the slender leaf was pierced; the second shot, and again the leaf
was pierced; but so soon as the second arrow had hit its mark the
Navaho declared a new feat, contending that this had not been
sufficient. A long race was then arranged, and once more the
brothers came off victorious.

[pg 108]

The chief became
desperate. Some feat must be devised in which his own men could
prove the superior. In the wall of a high cliff not far distant was
a small hole, barely larger than a half-closed hand, and just above
the reach of the average man. The ones who could run past that
hole, jump, and thrust their hands into it as they did so, might
claim the sisters. One by one the young Navaho warriors leaped
wildly and struck out for the hole in the cliff, but none could
thrust his hand into it. Then the elderly brothers ran past, sprang
lightly, and darted a hand each into the pocket.

Zahadolzhá
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

These deific
characters in Navaho mythology, though beneficent always, have no
special functions to perform. The name means “Fringe Mouth” and
has no ascertainable significance other than that these spirits,
whose abode is in the water, are supposed to have peculiar
markings about their mouths. Rescue from drowning invariably
redounds to the glory of these gods.

But for the
third time the Navaho chief declared the test insufficient. The
cliff was high. They who would marry his sisters must shoot an
arrow over its rim; so a second contest in archery took place, but
only the feathered reeds of the white-haired brothers passed out of
sight.

Still the old
men were refused the prizes they had fairly won so many times. A
dance was called. Finding no way to outdo the two brothers in skill
or strength, the young chief left the selection of husbands to his
sisters. They should join the men in the dance and go home with
whom they chose. The aliens did not join the dancers, preferring
instead to remain in their own little brush house half a mile
distant, with its single-slant roof, “For it is foolish,” said one,
“to think that two such handsome young maidens as they are would
ever look with favor upon our rags and wrinkles. We would better
lie here to-night and rest in sleep after our busy day.” Each then
brought forth a sacred pipe and tobacco, which they used only on
rare occasions. One had a pipe of rich blue turquoise, and the
other one of fine, pure white shell. They filled them, smoking in
silence. From the distance the songs and laughter of the merry
dancers greeted their ears, but not as joyous sounds. Each smoked
with apparent resolution, blowing forth cloud after cloud of filmy
whiteness, and lo! as they smoked each noticed that the other had
grown youthful in appearance! Their tattered garments, too, as
insensibly as the creeping shadows, changed their forms, becoming
fine shirts, leggings, and moccasins.

[pg 109]

At the dance the
younger sister asked, “What is it that smells so sweet?”

“I have noticed
nothing,” the other replied.

“Come over here
and face the breeze,” said the first; and there, sure enough, came
wafts of air sweet and savory. Neither had ever before scented
anything so pleasing, and they determined to follow the aroma
against the breeze. The moon shed ample light to guide their
footsteps, and once locating the true direction whence the wind
came, the two had no difficulty in threading their way straight to
the home of the brothers who had vanquished so many rivals in so
many feats. Knowing nothing of the men, other than that they were
strangers from an alien tribe, the girls were somewhat startled at
coming so boldly face to face with them; but a moment’s hesitation
gave them assurance, for surely, they thought, such finely dressed,
handsome men could mean no harm.

Said one: “What
it was we did not know, so came to determine if we could; but the
most delicious odor we ever smelled seemed to fill the air about us
at the dance, coming always from this direction, and now we see
that it was the smoke of your tobacco. It must be a wonderful land,
where you come from, if tobacco like that grows there.”

“That you may
see for yourselves,” answered the elder brother, “for we have come
to take you there if you will but consent to go. Our land is rich
in jewels and possesses a soil that grows bountiful crops of many
kinds, some of which you have never seen. Marry us and you shall
live always in abundance.”

The girls
consented, and at bedtime retired with their husbands for the
night, only to waken in the morning, however, to a sense of horror;
for whom should they find beside them but the two grim-visaged old
men so cordially hated by all their tribe! They dared not to
display their fear and horror before the men, who were quite awake,
though feigning sleep, but each read the[pg 110] other’s feelings at a glance. Where were
they? Where had they been? Had they merely dreamed of meeting two
handsome, well-clad strangers in the night? Slowly their memories
came back—the last shooting contest, the preparation for the dance,
the songs and feasting, the enchanting perfumed breezes, and their
quest—they remembered now. But how this change in their companions?
They were strangers, and unquestionably magicians who could
transform themselves or work spells on others! With this thought
the desire for vengeance increased with every
pulse-beat.

Haschĕbaád
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

In Navaho mythology
there are numerous references to benevolent female deities, who
are personated in medicine rites by men wearing masks, as shown
in this plate. Haschĕbaád may be translated “female deity,” or
“goddess.”

The day wore on
before the women had a chance to talk together apart from their
husbands, when they agreed that they would return to their home and
tell their brother of the evil worked upon them by the old men,
whom they would then soon see killed; but the Little Whirlwind
whispered to them, “Return not to your home; anger fills the hearts
of all your people, and it is you who would be killed with clubs
and stones.” Thwarted in this plan, they determined to leave and
search for a distant tribe of which they had once heard, that lived
in peace, and had never led the life of marauders. There, surely,
they might receive food and shelter and freedom from the sorcery of
their husbands. Each would take a separate course upon starting, to
meet at a wooded mountain in the east.

All went well
throughout the day; the old men rested and made ready for the
journey to their home-land, on which they planned to start at
daybreak. That night the women did not sleep. When their husbands
became wrapt in slumber, they quietly crawled out from their furs,
snatched a little food, and glided into the moonlight. They had
been gone but a short time when one of the old men arose to stir
the fire, and in deep surprise noted the absence of the women. He
called his brother, and the two held a hurried consultation. They
circled the lodge, but in the dimness of the light could discern no
guiding footprint to tell the direction in which their young wives
had gone. Returning to the camp, they filled their sacred pipes,
and in silence sat and smoked. Soon a thin curl of smoke was
seen[pg 111] drifting southward,
winding in and out among the piñons; then another on the north
side. These they followed, bearing eastward, smoking as they went,
and as the sun began to tint the higher hills and mountain crests
with yellow, bathing all else in purple shadows, they came upon
their wives in a little rocky cañon screened by thickly growing
cedar and piñon. The smoke foretold the women of their doom, so
they were not taken by surprise.

Seeing no way to
escape, the girls resigned themselves to fate, and meekly followed
the old men back to camp, whence they journeyed with them to the
west.

At their home
the brothers had wives and children, so they did not herald their
new consorts as such, but wedded them at once to their eldest sons.
This prospect pleased the two young women, and they entered into
the spirit of the new life with zest. They learned the songs and
chants of the rites of the Snake and the Bear people—the clans to
which these younger husbands belonged—and taught them to a young
brother who came to visit them. When the brother returned to the
Navaho people, he told them that his sisters were quite happy, and
with the songs he had learned from them he originated the Hozhónĭ
Hatál, Happiness Chant.

LEGEND OF THE NIGHT CHANT

Long years ago
three brothers—the eldest rich, the second a wayward, roving
gambler, and the youngest a mere boy—lived together among their
kind, the Dĭné̆ people. Their only sister was married, living apart
with her husband. The gambler often took property belonging to his
brothers, going to distant corners of the land to stake it on games
of chance. On returning, he never failed to relate a story of
wonders he had seen—the Holy People whom he had met, and who
revealed many things to him.[pg 112] His brothers never believed him, calling him
Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ, The Dreamer.

Gán
askĭdĭ. Zahadolzhá.
Hasché̆ltĭ – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

The personated
deities pictured in this plate appear together in acts of succor
in the Night Chant in the order seen, the Talking God in the
lead. From left to right they are, respectively, the God of
Harvest, Fringe Mouth, and Talking God.

One day they
wished to go hunting, but did not want The Dreamer to accompany
them, so, going to the home of their brother-in-law, they told him
of their purpose, and all three stole away. As the sun began its
descent on the fourth day, it occurred to Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ that he had
been tricked, so he started in search of the hunters, hoping to
meet them returning, that he might help them carry their game and
be rewarded with a pelt or two. He travelled far, but had not come
upon them when the sun passed behind the distant hills. Near by was
a deep, rock-walled cañon, from the depths of which many mingled
voices could be heard. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ walked to its edge and peered
over. Back and forth from side to side flew countless crows,
passing in and out of dark holes in opposite walls. From below,
when darkness had shrouded all, Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ heard a human voice
call in loud echoing tones, “They say, they say, they say, they
say!”

From the far
side came the answer: “Yes, yes! What’s the matter now? What’s the
matter now?”

“Two people were
killed to-day,” continued the voice just below.

“Who were they?
Who were they?”

To which the
first voice answered, “Anahailí̆hĭ, killed at sunrise, and
Igákĭzhĭ, killed at dusk, by the People of the Earth. They went in
search of meat, and the hunters shot arrows into them. We are
sorry, but they were told to be careful and did not heed. It is too
late to help them now; let us go on with the chant.”

It had grown
very dark, and Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ became greatly frightened, but he
stayed to listen and watch. Muffled strains of songs came from the
deep recesses in each cañon wall,—the gods were singing—and just
within the openings, discernible in the glow of a fire, could be
seen many dancers performing in unison as they kept time with
rattles. Throughout the night firelight flickered from wall to wall
and singing and dancing[pg
113]
continued. At daylight the participants departed in all directions,
so Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ resumed the quest of the hunters.

He had travelled
but a short time when he came upon his brothers, resting their
heavy game packs on their journey homeward.

“Here comes The
Dreamer,” spoke his elder brother. “I will wager he has something
marvellous to relate.”

Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ
was greeted first by his brother-in-law. “You must have slept near
here last night, for you are too far out to have made this distance
since daylight.”

“I did,” he
replied, “near a cañon that is surely holy. A lot of people had
gathered to dance, the gods sang, and—”

“There, I told
you he would have some lie to tell,” interrupted the eldest
brother, and started on.

“Go ahead,”
urged the brother-in-law; “tell us the rest.”

“It’s no use; no
one cares to listen to me,” said Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ.

His younger
brother, also incredulous, took up his burden and plodded off,
whereat Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ related all that he had seen and heard.

“You men must
have killed those people they spoke about,” he accused.

“No, it was none
of us,” his brother-in-law protested; “we have killed no people.
Yesterday morning one shot a crow, and last night we killed a
magpie, but there was no harm in that.”

“I fear there
was; they were hunters like yourselves, in search of meat for the
Holy People, for the time disguised as birds,” Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ
ventured. Then, dividing the pack, the two hurried on to overtake
the others.

“Well,” asked
the youngest, “did you hear a fine story?”

“It is not a
lie,” his brother-in-law retorted; “we killed a crow and a magpie
yesterday, and the Holy People talked about it in the cañon last
night. Look! There come four mountain[pg 114] sheep! Hurry, Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ and head them
off!” They had come upon the cañon where the strange voices had
been heard. Four sheep, among large bowlders near the rim, were
carefully threading their way out of it. The three dropped back,
while Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ ran ahead and concealed himself near the
ascending trail. As the sheep approached he drew his bow and aimed
for the leader’s heart, but his fingers could not loose their grip
upon the arrow, and the sheep passed by unharmed. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ
scrambled up over the rim of the cañon and ran to get ahead of them
again, but the bowstring would not leave his fingers as they
passed. A third effort, and a fourth, to kill the game brought the
same result. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ cursed himself and the sheep, but ceased
suddenly, for whom should he see but four gods, Yébĭchai, appear
before him, who had transformed themselves into sheep! Hasché̆ltĭ,
in the lead, ran up to him and dropped his balíl—a
rectangular, four-piece, folding wand—over him, as he sat, and
uttered a peculiar cry. Behind him came Zahadolzhá, Haschĕbaád, and
Gánaskĭdĭ; all were
masked.

Tónenĭlĭ,
Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

These three gods
appear in the order shown when seen in the rites of the Navaho
Night Chant.

“Whence came
you?” Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ asked them.

“From
Kĭnní̆nĭkai,” Hasché̆ltĭ answered.

“Whither are you
going?”

“To Tsé̆gyiĭ, to
hold another hatál four days from now. You
had better come along.”

“No, I couldn’t
travel so far in four days.”

But after a
little parleying Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ assented. He was told to disrobe,
and doing so Gánaskĭdĭ breathed upon him,
and his raiment became the same as that of the gods. Then all took
four steps eastward, changing into mountain sheep, and bounded away
along the cañon’s rim.

The hunters in
hiding became restless as The Dreamer did not return, so ventured
out where they could view the trail on which he was last seen. No
one was in sight. One went to the rock where Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ first
hid near the sheep and followed his tracks from hiding place to
hiding place until the fourth one was reached, and there he found
his brother’s old clothes with his bow and arrows upon them. There
he traced[pg
115]
four human footsteps to the east that merged into the trail of five
mountain sheep. The eldest brother cried in his remorse, for he saw
that his brother was holy, and he had always treated him with
scorn.

The gods and
Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ, transformed to mountain sheep, travelled very far
during their four days’ journey, coming on the fourth day to a
large hogán. Inside were numerous Holy People, both gods and men.
When Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ entered with his four holy companions, a
complaint at once arose from those inside against an earthly odor,
whereat Hasché̆ltĭ had their charge taken out and washed with
yucca-root suds.

Inside the hogán
stood four large jewel posts upon which the gods hung their masks.
The eastern post was of white shell, the southern of turquoise, the
western of abalone, and the northern of jet. Two jewel pipes lay
beside a god sitting on the western side of the hogán. These he
filled with tobacco and lighted, passing one each to his right and
his left. All assembled smoked, the last to receive the pipes being
two large Owls sitting one on each side of the entrance way at the
east. They drew in deep draughts of smoke and puffed them out
violently. While the smoking continued, people came in from all
directions. At midnight lightning flashed, followed by heavy
thunder and rain, which Tónenĭlĭ, Water Sprinkler, sent in anger
because he had not been apprised of the dance before it was time to
begin it; but a smoke with the assembled Holy People appeased him.
Soon after the chant began and continued until morning.

Some of the gods
had beautiful paintings on deerskins, resembling those now made
with colored sands. These they unfolded upon the floor of the hogán
during the successive days of the hatál.

The last day of
the dance was very largely attended, people coming from all holy
quarters. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ through it all paid close attention to the
songs, prayers, paintings, and dance movements, and the forms of
the various sacred paraphernalia, and[pg 116] when the hatál
was over he had learned the rite of Kléjĕ Hatál. The gods permitted
him to return to his people long enough to perform it over his
younger brother and teach him how to conduct it for people
afflicted with sickness or evil. This he did, consuming nine days
in its performance, after which he again joined the gods at
Tsé̆gyiĭ, where he now lives. His younger brother taught the
ceremony to his earthly brothers, the Navaho, who yet conduct it
under the name of Kléjĕ Hatál, Night Chant, or Yébĭchai Hatál, The
Chant of Paternal Gods.

CEREMONIES—THE NIGHT
CHANT

Yébĭchai
Sweat – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Each morning during
the first four days of the Navaho Yébĭchai healing ceremony, or
Night Chant, the patient is sweated—sometimes inside a small
sweat-lodge, oftener by being placed upon a spot previously
heated by a fire and covered with heavy blankets. The three
figures are medicine-men, or singers, chanting. The patient lies
under the blankets surrounded by a line of sacred meal in which
turkey-feather prayer-sticks, kĕdán, are implanted.

A description of
the ritual and form of the Yébĭchai ceremony,—Kléjĕ Hatál, or Night
Chant,—covering its nine days of performance, will give a
comprehensive idea of all Navaho nine-day ceremonies, which combine
both religious and medical observances. The myth characters
personified in this rite are termed Yébĭchai, Grandfather or
Paternal Gods. Similar personations appear in other ceremonies, but
they figure less prominently.

First
Day: The ceremonial, or medicine, hogán is built some
days in advance of the rite. The first day’s ceremony is brief,
with few participants. Well after dark the singer, assisted by two
men, makes nine little splint hoops—tsĭpans
yázhĕ kĕdán—entwined with slip-cords, and places them
on the sacred meal in the meal basket. Following this, three men
remove their everyday clothing, take Yébĭchai masks, and leave the
hogán. These three masked figures are to represent the gods
Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, Haschĕbaád, Goddess, and Hasché̆lapai,
Gray God. When they have gone and passed to the rear of the hogán,
the patient comes in, disrobes at the left of the centre, passes
around the small fire burning near the entrance of the hogán, and
takes his seat in the centre, immediately after which the singing
begins. During the third song Hasché̆ltĭ enters with his
cross-sticks—Hasché̆ltĭ balíl—and opens and
places them over the patient’s body, forcing them down as far
toward the ground as[pg
117]
possible. The second time he places them not so far over the body;
the third, not lower than the shoulders; the fourth time, over the
head only, each time giving his peculiar call, Wu-hu-hu-hu-u! Then Hasché̆ltĭ
takes up a shell with medicine and with it touches the patient’s
feet, hands, chest, back, right shoulder, left shoulder, and top of
head,—this being the prescribed ceremonial order,—uttering his cry
at each placing of the medicine. He next places the shell of
medicine to the patient’s lips four times and goes out, after which
Haschĕbaád comes in, takes one of the circle kĕdán,
touches the patient’s body in the same ceremonial order, and
finally the lips, at the same time giving the slip-cord a quick
pull. Next comes Hasché̆lapai, who performs the same incantations
with the kĕdán. Again Hasché̆ltĭ enters
with the cross-sticks, repeating the former order, after which he
gives the patient four swallows of medicine,—a potion different
from that first given,—the medicine-man himself drinking what
remains in the shell. This closes the ceremony of the first day.
There will, perhaps, be considerable dancing outside the hogán, but
that is merely practice for the public dance to be given on the
ninth night. The singer and the patient sleep in the hogán each
night until the nine days are passed, keeping the masks and
medicine paraphernalia between them when they sleep.

Second
Day: Just at sunrise the patient is given the first
ceremonial sweat. This is probably given more as a spiritual
purification than in anticipation of any physical benefit. To the
east of the hogán a shallow hole is dug in the earth, in which are
placed hot embers and ashes,—covered with brush and weeds, and
sprinkled with water,—upon which the patient takes his place. He is
then well covered with blankets. The medicine-man, assisted by
Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbaád, places about the patient a row of
feathered kĕdán, and then commences to
sing while the patient squirms on the hot, steaming bed. After
singing[pg
118]
certain songs the medicine-man lifts the blanket a little and gives
the patient a drink of medicine from a ceremonial basket. He is
again covered, and the singing goes on for a like time. Later the
blankets are removed and Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbaád perform over the
patient, after which he goes to the hogán. The brush and weeds used
for the bed are taken away and earth is scattered over the coals.
This sweating, begun on the second day, is repeated each morning
for four days: the first, as above noted, taking place east of the
hogán, and the others respectively to the south, west, and north.
The ceremonies of the second night are practically a repetition of
those held the first night. During the third song Hasché̆ltĭ enters
with the Hasché̆ltĭ balíl, placing it
four times in the prescribed order and giving his call; then he
goes out, re-enters, and takes from the medicine basket four sacred
reed kĕdán. These he carries in
ceremonial order to the four cardinal points: first east, then
south, next west, lastly north. Next stick kĕdán
are taken out of the basket, which holds twelve each of the four
sacred colors. These also are carried to the four cardinal
points—white, east; blue, south; yellow, west; black, north. After
all the kĕdán are taken out, Hasché̆ltĭ
again enters with the Hasché̆ltĭ balíl, using it in
directional order and giving medicine as on the night
before.

Pĭkéhodĭklad
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

The first of the four
dry-paintings used in conducting the Kléjĕ Hatál, or Night Chant,
of the Navaho, being made on the fifth night. The purpose of this
night’s acts is to frighten the patient; hence the name of the
painting, which signifies “Frighten Him On It.”

The encircling figure
represents the rainbow, aklólh; the first on the left
Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God; the central, Haschĕbaád,
goddess—symbolically the patient—and the right-hand figure a male
deity, Haschĕbakú̆n.

The patient sits on
the central figure at its waist line during the night’s
performance. When the ceremony in connection with this painting
is concluded the colored sands are carefully collected, carried
out toward the north, and deposited under a tree.

Third
Day: It is understood that the patient has been
sweated in the morning, as on the second day. On this night he is
dressed in spruce boughs by the assisting medicine-man, bound
around the wrists, arms, ankles, legs, and body, and fastened on
the head in the form of a turban. After several songs, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ
and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ cut the boughs from the body, using a stone
arrow-point as a knife. Then the boughs are cut into fragments over
the patient’s head, after which the singer takes a feather wand,
points it toward the four cardinal points above the fire, and
brushes the patient, chanting meanwhile. At the end of the brushing
he points the wand out of the smoke-hole, at the same time blowing
the dust from it out into the open air.

Fourth
Day: The ceremonies this day do not begin until later
than usual, probably nine o’clock. Hasché̆ltĭ and
Haschĕbaád[pg
119]
dress and go out. The patient disrobes and takes his place. The
assisting medicine-man digs a small hole just between the patient’s
feet, and encircles it with a line of tádĭtĭn, or pollen, leaving an
opening to the east, after which the patient dons a mask.
Hasché̆ltĭ enters, followed by Haschĕbaád, who carries a small
spruce tree. The former puts sacred pollen in the hole four times,
each time giving his call; then Haschĕbaád plants the tree in the
hole and fastens its top to the patient’s mask; the mask is then
pulled off the patient’s head by his jerking quickly away from the
tree. This is the first night in which the ceremonies are continued
until dawn. After the unmasking, the singers take their place at
one side of the back of the hogán and begin singing to the
accompaniment of a basket drum. A youth and a maiden are required
to sit in the hogán throughout the fourth night, the ritual
requiring that these be persons who have not had sexual
knowledge.

Fifth
Day: This is the last day of the sweating, and the
day on which the first dry-painting is made. Just at dark this
painting, a small one, is begun inside. In size it would square
about four feet, and is placed close to the back of the hogán.
There are three figures in the painting: the central one being the
patient, the one to the left Hasché̆ltĭ, the one to the right
Haschĕbakú̆n. Around this painting, at
all sides except the eastern, feather wands, ndiá,
are stuck in the ground; in this case twelve in number. Foot-tracks
are made in the sand with white meal. Hasché̆ltĭ and
Haschĕbakú̆n dress ceremonially, mask,
and go out, after which the patient enters and takes his position
on the central figure of the dry-painting, facing the east. The
effort this night is to frighten the patient and thus banish the
evil spirits[pg
120]
from his body. The two maskers come running in, uttering weird,
unearthly howls, in which every spectator in the hogán joins,
feigning great fear. The masked figures make four entries, each
like the other. In many cases the patient either actually faints
from fright or feigns to do so. The patient then leaves the
dry-painting and it is destroyed. None of the sand or other
pigments used in this painting is applied to the patient’s body, as
is done with that of later paintings. The next part of the fifth
night’s ceremony is the initiation of new members into the Yébĭchai
order. No one who is not a member of the order is allowed to enter
the ceremonial hogán. At the time of the initiation Hasché̆ltĭ and
Haschĕbakú̆n are outside in the
darkness. The initiates enter and sit on the ground in a row—the
males naked, the women dressed in their ordinary mode. They dare
not look up, for should they see Hasché̆ltĭ before being initiated,
they would become blind. One at a time these novices take their
place in the centre of the hogán and the initiatory rite is
performed over them.

Shĭlhné’ohlĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

In this plate is
pictured the second dry-painting employed in the Night Chant,
made on the sixth day of the ceremony. It represents crossed logs
which whirl around in a mythic lake. Upon them are alternately
seated male and female deities, singing. The light figures are
goddesses, haschĕbaád; the dark ones
gods, haschĕbakú̆n.
Their songs treat of all life-giving plants, of which corn,
beans, squashes, and tobacco, the most important, are pictured as
growing from the very centre of the lake, the point of contact of
the logs.

Of the four marginal
figures the one in white toward the east is Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking
God, with his pine-squirrel pouch of sacred meal. Opposite him
stands Haschógan, House God. The other two are Gánaskí̆dĭl, Hunchbacks, Gods
of Harvest, with seeds of the field in packs on their backs.
Around the whole is the personified rainbow.

When the dry-painting
is in actual use the patient enters upon it over the feet of
Hasché̆ltĭ and sits at the intersection of the logs. A man
personating a god then enters, places his hands upon the various
parts of the many deities represented in the picture, then upon
the corresponding parts of the patient’s body. The whole picture
is then destroyed and the colored sands are carried off to the
north in a blanket and strewn under trees.

Sixth
Day: This is the first day of the large
dry-paintings. The painting is commenced early in the morning, and
is not finished until mid-afternoon. The one on this day is the
whirling log representation. After it is finished, feathers are
stuck in the ground around it, and sacred meal is scattered on
parts by some of the assisting singers. Others scatter the meal
promiscuously; one of the maskers uses a spruce twig and medicine
shell, applying meal to every figure and object in the painting.
Then the medicine-men all gather up portions of the sacred meal,
putting it in their medicine pouches. The patient soon enters and
takes his seat in the centre of the painting. The usual
incantations are gone through, after which the colored sands of the
painting are applied to the corresponding parts of the patient’s
body, then gathered up and carried off to the north. During the day
two sets of beggars go out to the neighboring hogáns. These
personate Hasché̆ltĭ, Tónenĭlĭ—Water Sprinkler, the God of Water,
who is really a clown—and as many Haschĕbaád as care to go out. The
beggars carry whips made of yucca[pg 121] leaves, and one who does not respond to their
appeals for gifts is whipped,—if he can be caught,—which creates a
great deal of amusement. The personators act like a company of
clowns, but at the same time they gather a large quantity of food.
When the day is thoroughly taken up with dry-painting and
ceremonies, there is less of the ceremonial at night. The
medicine-men, to the accompaniment of the basket drum, sing for a
short time only on this sixth night, while outside the late evening
is spent in dancing by those who are later to participate in the
closing dance.

Seventh
Day: This day is practically consumed with the making
of another large dry-painting. The masked men go out on another
begging tour, also, and the medicine ceremonies and the destroying
of the dry-painting are practically the same as those of the day
before, while during the evening the medicine-men sing to the
accompaniment of the drum.

Eighth
Day: The dry-painting is finished about three o’clock
in the afternoon. After its completion there is a large open-air
initiation. To become a full member of the Yébĭchai order one must
first be initiated in the hogán; the second initiation is a public
one; the third, another inside the hogán; the fourth, another in
the open. These different initiation ceremonies, the same in point
of ritualism, may be carried over several years.

Ninth and Final
Day: To the average person and to the Indians as a
whole the last day is the Yébĭchai dance. From[pg 122] a distance the Indians have been
gathering during the two previous days, and the hospitality of the
patient’s family, as well as that of all the people living in the
neighboring hogáns, is taxed to the utmost. And from early morning
until dark the whole plain is dotted with horsemen coming singly
and in groups. Great crowds gather at the contests given half a
mile from the hogán, where horse-races, foot-races, groups of
gamblers, and throngs of Indians riding wildly from race-track to
hogán fill the day with hilarity and incidents memorable to all.
Toward the end of the day preparation is made for the closing part
of the nine-day rite. Great quantities of fuel have been brought
from the distant plateau, and placed in many small piles at each
side of the smooth dance ground to the east of the hogán. As soon
as it is dark the fuel is ignited, making two long lines of
camp-fires, furnishing both light to see the dancers and warmth to
the spectators, for the Yébĭchai cannot be held until the autumn
frosts begin, when the nights have the sharp, keen air of the high
altitudes.

Zahadolzhá
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S.
Curtis

This is the last of
the dry-paintings used in the Night Chant, being destroyed on the
night of the eighth day’s ceremonies. It takes its name from the
fact that the principal characters represented in it, the dark
figures, are all Zahadolzhá, Fringe-mouth Gods. According to the
myth underlying the rite these gods made the first paintings of
this sort used among the spirit people, and were the ones who
furnished succor to the patients on the eighth day of the nine
days’ healing ceremony. The light figures are female
deities—haschĕbaád. In the centre is the cornstalk, a life-giving
symbol, and partially encircling the whole is the personified
light-giving rainbow, a female personage.

During the ceremony a
man masked as a Zahadolzhá places his hands first upon a part of
his likeness pictured in colored earths and then on the
corresponding part of the patient, as head, body, and limbs.
Later the colored earths or sands are carried away in a blanket
and placed under brush or trees toward the north.

With the
gathering darkness the human tide flows toward the medicine hogán,
illuminated in the dusk by the long lines of camp-fires. All gather
about and close around the dance square, having to be kept back by
those in charge. Men, women, and children sit on the ground near
the fires. Many on horseback have ridden up, and form a veritable
phalanx back of the sitting spectators. The dance does not begin at
once, and those assembled spend the time telling stories, jesting,
and gossiping. Belated arrivals make coffee, or do hurried cooking
around the fires.

Some distance to
the east of the dance ground is a brush enclosure where the dancers
prepare for their part in the rite. There, too, is a fire for light
and warmth. The men in preparation remove all clothing, save short
kilts, and paint their bodies with a mixture of water and white
clay. Anyone who may have experienced the enjoyment of a sponge
bath out in the open on a cold, windy night can appreciate the
pleasure of the dance preparation. The dancers are impersonators of
Navaho myth[pg
123]
characters, twelve usually taking part. No qualifications are
necessary other than that the participant be conversant with the
intricate ritual of the dance. The dance continues throughout the
entire night, one group of men being followed by another. The first
twelve men dance through four songs, retiring to the dressing
enclosure for a very brief rest after each. Then they withdraw, and
twelve others dance for a like period, and so on. The first group
sometimes returns again later, and the different groups vie with
one another in their efforts to give the most beautiful dance in
harmony of movement and song, but there is no change in the step.
The several sets have doubtless trained for weeks, and the most
graceful take great pride in being pronounced the best dancers. The
first group of grotesquely masked men is ready by nine or ten
o’clock; they file into the dance enclosure led by Hasché̆ltĭ,
their naked, clay-painted bodies glinting in the firelight. While
wearing masks the performers never speak in words; they only sing
or chant. To address one in conversation would incur the
displeasure of the gods and invite disaster. Time is kept by the
basket drum and the rhythm of the singing.

The white
visitor will get his best impression of the dance from a short
distance, and, if possible, a slight elevation. There he is in
touch with the stillness of the night under the starry sky, and
sees before him, in this little spot lighted out of the limitless
desert, this strange ceremonial of supplication and thanksgiving,
showing slight, if any, change from the same performance, held on
perhaps the same spot by the ancestors of these people[pg 124] ages ago. As the night wears on the
best group of dancers come out. They are, perhaps, from the Redrock
country, or from some other far-away district, and have been
practising for weeks, that they might excel in this dance. The most
revered song of the Yébĭchai is the Bluebird song, which is sung at
the approach of day, and is the closing act of the drama. With the
last words, “Dóla anyí, dóla anyí,” the
assembled multitude start for their homes, near and far, melting
into the gray of the desert morn, and by the time the sun breaks
above the horizon the spot which was alive with people a few hours
before is wrapped in death-like stillness, not a soul being within
range of the eye.

Yébĭchai
Hogán – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

MATURITY CEREMONY

The ceremony
celebrating maturity of girls among the Navaho is held generally on
the fourth night after the first evidence of the maiden’s entrance
into womanhood. On the first morning following the moment of this
change in life the girl bathes and dresses in her finest clothes.
Later she stretches herself face downward on a blanket just outside
the hogán, with her head toward the door. A sister, aunt, or other
female relation, if any happen to be close at hand, or if not, a
male relative other than her father, then proceeds symbolically to
remould her. Her arms and legs are straightened, her joints
smoothed, and muscles pressed to make her truly shapely. After that
the most industrious and energetic of the comely women in the
immediate neighborhood is called in to dress the girl’s hair in a
particular form of knot and wrap it with deerskin strings, called
tsĭklólh. Should there be any
babies or little tots about the home, the girl goes to them, and,
placing a hand under each ear, successively lifts them by the neck,
to make them grow faster. Then she darts off toward the east,
running out for about a quarter of a mile and back. This she does
each morning until after the public ceremony. By so doing she is
assured of continuing strong, lithe, and active throughout
womanhood.

[pg
125]

The four days
preceding the night of the ceremony are days of abstinence; only
such foods as mush and bread made from corn-meal may be eaten, nor
may they contain any salt. To indulge in viands of a richer nature
would be to invite laziness and an ugly form at a comparatively
early age. The girl must also refrain from scratching her head or
body, for marks made by her nails during this period would surely
become ill-looking scars. All the women folk in the hogán begin
grinding corn on the first day and continue at irregular intervals
until the night of the third, when the meal is mixed into batter
for a large corn-cake, which the mother bakes in a sort of
bean-hole outside the hogán.

The ceremony
proper consists of little more than songs. A medicine-man is called
upon to take charge, being compensated for his services with
blankets, robes, grain, or other articles of value. Friends and
neighbors having been notified, they assemble at the girl’s hogán
fairly early in the evening. When dusk has settled, the
medicine-man begins his songs, singing first the twelve “hogán
songs” of the Bahózhonchi. After he has finished, anyone present
who so desires may sing songs taken from the ritual of the same
order. This motley singing and hilarity continue until well toward
sunrise, when the mother brings in a bowl of yucca suds and washes
the girl’s hair. Her head and hair are dried with corn-meal, after
which the girl takes her last run toward the east, this time
followed by many young children, symbolically attesting that she
will be a kind mother, whom her children will always follow. The
hatálĭ, or medicine singer,
during her absence sings eight songs, generally termed the Racing
songs. On her return the great corn-cake is brought in, cut, and
divided among the assemblage, when all disperse, and the girl may
once more loosen her hair and partake of any food she pleases.

MARRIAGE

Yébĭchai
Dancers – Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

The Navaho
marriage ceremony is always held at the home of the girl. When a
young man wishes to marry the maid of his choice, he makes his
desire known to his parents, when the father[pg 126] goes to the girl’s parents and explains
that his son would like to marry their daughter. The girl is then
consulted, and if she be willing to marry the young man, the
parents of the two open negotiations. A popular, pretty girl
commands a considerably higher price than a plain one, though few
are married for a smaller bonus than fourteen ponies and a silver
belt. Horses, saddles, cattle, sheep and goats, and
turquoise-studded silver ornaments are the usual media of exchange
in matrimonial bargains. The arrangement of compensatory details,
particularly the date of delivery of the articles for payment,
often requires a considerable period of time and no little
controversy. When finally completed, the date is set for the
wedding, which takes place always at night.

The girl’s
mother fills a wedding basket with corn-meal mush, which figures
prominently in the ceremony. About nine o’clock in the evening the
wedding party assembles. Anyone may attend, and usually a goodly
number is present. The young man and his bride take seats on the
western side of the hogán, facing the doorway. On their right the
male spectators sit in rows; on their left, the women. The girl’s
mother, however, does not enter, for a mother-in-law, even in the
making, must not look upon her newly acquired son, nor he upon her,
then or thereafter. To do so would occasion blindness, and general
ill luck to either one or both parties.

The basket of
mush and two wicker bottles of water are brought in and placed
before the couple, the bearer being careful to see that the side of
the basket on which the top coil terminates is toward the east. The
girl’s father then steps forward, and from his pouch of
tádĭtĭn, or sacred pollen, sifts
several pinches on the basket of mush. Beginning at the end of the
coil on the eastern rim, he sifts straight across and back, then
follows the rim with the pollen around to the south side, sifts
across and back, and then drops a little in the centre. That done,
the bride pours a small quantity of water from the wicker bottle
upon the young man’s hands. He washes and pours a little upon hers.
Then from the side of the basket toward the east he dips out a
little mush[pg
127]
with two fingers and eats. The girl follows, dipping from the same
place. This act is repeated at the three remaining sides—the south,
west, and north,—and then the basket is passed to the assemblage,
who finish eating its contents. The empty basket becomes the
property of the young man’s mother, who retains it as a sort of
certificate of marriage. The washing of hands and the dipping of
mush from the same spot is a pledge that the girl will follow in
her husband’s footsteps—doing as he does.

When the
ceremony is concluded, a supper is provided for all. General
conversation and levity while away the hours, the talk consisting
principally, however, of sage advice from relatives to both husband
and wife as to how they should conduct themselves in future. At
dawn the party disperses, the young man taking his bride with
him.

Mescal Harvest – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

TRIBAL SUMMARY – THE
APACHE

Language—Athapascan.

Population—Fort Apache
Agency, Arizona (White Mountain Apache), 2,072.
San Carlos Agency: San Carlos Apache, 1,066; Tonto Apache, 554;
Coyoteros, 525.
Tonto Apache on Beaver Creek, 103.
Total Apache of Arizona (not including the so-called Mohave Apache
and Yuma Apache), 4,320.
Mescaleros in New Mexico, 460. Jicarillas in New Mexico, 784.
Chiricahua Apache at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, 298. Kiowa Apache in
Oklahoma, 155.
Grand total of Apache tribes, 6,017.

Dress—The primitive dress
of the men was deerskin shirt (ĕpŭntltésĭs),
leggings (ĭsklé̆tlĭkai), and moccasins
(ĕpú̆nkĕ). They were never
without the loin-cloth, the one absolutely necessary feature of
Indian dress. A deerskin cap (cha), with attractive symbolic
ornamentation, was worn; but for the greater part the headgear
consisted of a band braided from the long leaves of the yucca,
which they placed rather low on the head to keep the hair from the
eyes. The dress of the Apache women consisted of a short deerskin
skirt, high boot-legged moccasins, and a loose waist which extended
to the hips and was worn outside the skirt. Both skirt and waist
were ornamented with deerskin fringe and latterly with metal
pendants. The men’s hair always hangs loose; it is never braided.
At time of mourning the hair is cut horizontally just above the
shoulder line. Apache matrons, like the men, do not braid the hair,
but let it hang loosely over the shoulders. The maidens tie their
hair in a low long knot at the back of the head, to which is
fastened a decorated deerskin ornament, denoting maidenhood. So
arranged it is called pĭtsĭvé̆sti, and the wrapping,
tsĭgé̆.

Dwellings—The Apache
dwelling consists of a dome-shaped frame of cottonwood or other
poles, thatched with grass. Average diameter at the base, twelve
feet. The house itself they term kówa;
the grass thatch, pin.
Bear-grass, or what the Spanish term palmillo, is used exclusively in
thatching. Since the institution of the Messiah religion the houses
are built rather elongate in form, with a doorway in each end, and
all the houses of the village are arranged in long rows. Doorways
are termed dáitin, or chogúntĭ, interchangeably.
Summer houses are generally built at a distance from the winter
houses, in fact wherever the Apache would have occasion to stop,
and are little more than brush shelters to afford temporary
shade.

Primitive
Foods—No tribe is more capable of living on the
natural products of their pristine haunts than the Apache. Whether
allowed to live peacefully in the river valleys or driven in war to
seek protection of impenetrable mountains, nature provided amply
for their support; for practically all the flora and fauna
indigenous to the Southwest are considered food by the Apache. (See
the list in the vocabulary.)

[pg 132]

Arts and
Industries—The art expression of the Apache is
manifested chiefly in their basketry, which shows much taste in
form and decoration. The tus, an urn-shaped water bottle,
is loosely woven of the stems of aromatic sumac, then coated inside
and out with piñon gum. The flat tray basket, called tsa-naskú̆dĭ, is much used in
their domestic life. The most pretentious basket is the immense
tus-naskú̆di, urn-shaped, like
the tus—whence its name—and used
principally for the storage of grain. No Apache home is without the
burden basket, tú̆tza, round and deep, often
somewhat conical in form, and invariably decorated with deerskin
fringe.

Political
Organization—The Apache never had a very stable form
of government. Chiefs were elected, or chosen, and ruled so long as
it pleased their followers. If the son of a chief proved himself
capable, he would be accorded opportunity to rule, otherwise he
received no special recognition. Medicine-men were always more
influential than the chiefs. Social customs and habits and much of
the government of the tribe are guided by the medicine-men; but
often they lose all influence by meeting with failure in the
treatment of disease. Like the chiefs, the medicine-men depend on
popular approval for their success.

Clans—The Coyoteros are
divided into five bands, each consisting of a number of clans. In
one band there are survivors of one clan only; in other bands as
many as seven or eight clans are yet to be found. Descent is
reckoned through the mother; that is, the children belong to the
mother’s clan, except among the Chiricahua, where, it is said,
descent is traced through the father.

Nalin
Lage – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

Coyotero
Clans

Band I

Band II

Band III

Band IV

Band V

[pg
133]

Arivaipa
Clans

Chiricahua
Clans

Marriage—Strictly
speaking, barter for women at an agreed price was never the custom
among the Apache,—so the older of the present generation
contend,—personal choice on the part of the girl having always to
be considered. Nevertheless, payment for the bride is always made
to her parents in the form of grain, money, horses, saddles,
blankets, or cattle. The bride’s consent is necessary, custom
requiring the young man to prove his moral strength, and ability to
support a wife and himself, by erecting a neat house and permitting
the girl of his choice to occupy it with him for four nights
without being molested or having her presence observed. By
preparing his breakfast the morning following the fourth night the
girl acknowledges her willingness to marry, and the agreement as to
the definite payment her parents shall receive may be made any time
later. She then becomes the man’s wife, though a month may
sometimes elapse before the agreement is sealed and the consequent
payment made.

Genesis—In the unbroken
darkness of the beginning of time appeared a small spot, which grew
as embryonic life and became a human figure, known in the myth as
Kútĕrastan, The One Who Lives Above. This creator then made light,
and next Stĕnátlĭhăn, Woman Without Parents.
Next he created Chuganaái, The Sun, and following him Hádĭntĭn
Skhĭn, Pollen Boy. The creator next made the earth, and then the
other gods of the Apache pantheon. Following their creation he
instructed the various gods in their respective duties, and then
disappeared into the sky through the smoke from a miraculous
fire.

Person of
Miraculous Birth—Stĕnátlĭhăn, a
goddess, is the mother of two boys, who perform miracles and act as
saviours of the people. The elder brother, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, conceived
by the Sun, is the more active and is revered as the God of War. To
Tubadzĭschí̆nĭ, conceived by Water, is ascribed the making of the
ocean as it now is, and he is supposed to have much to do with
water in the form of rain and snow.

Ceremonies—The ceremonies
are invariably called “dances.” Among these are: a rain dance, a
puberty rite, a harvest or good-crop dance, and a spirit dance. The
medicine dance is the creation of a medicine-man and varies with
his individual views. The ceremonial paraphernalia of the other
four dances may vary in accordance with the dictates of the
medicine-man, but for the greater part follows prescribed formula.
The Apache are devoutly religious and pray on many occasions and in
various ways: sometimes with the aid of little images representing
gods, sometimes with painted deerskins and caps, and sometimes by
merely facing the cardinal points and scattering pollen to the four
winds for the gods from whom they seek favor. Usually the plants
employed by them as medicine are dug in a ceremonial way, one
notable exception being the gathering of pollen, no prayers being
offered at that time. In secluded spots in the hills and mountains
are found round cairns, with cedar and other twigs deposited upon
them. These are shrines at which the Apache make offerings to their
favorite gods. The medicine ceremonies are very numerous and vary
with the dreams and personal views of the medicine-man who conducts
them.

Burial—Everywhere
throughout the hills and mountains of the reservation one finds
small heaps of stones. In most instances these mark Apache graves.
A favorite place of burial is a[pg 134] cleft in the rocks, in which the body is
placed by the deceased’s relatives and covered with stones. These
small stones are always deposited one at a time, the Apache
believing that to put them on the body all at once would shorten
the life of the one so doing. Infants are usually placed on the
upper branches of large cedar or piñon trees. The child is wrapped
in its carrier, or cradle-board, which is left face up and covered
with any sort of cloth, the belief being that the souls of infants
are not strong enough to come out through the stones, should they
be placed in the ground and covered therewith.

After-world—Re-created in
the human form, Apache spirits are supposed to dwell in a land of
peace and plenty, where there is neither disease nor death. The
Milky Way is the path of all souls to the after-world. Yólkai
Nalí̆n is the guardian goddess of this spirit land, and the spirits
of the dead are supposed to journey four days before reaching it.
Formerly horses were killed beside the grave of the dead, that they
might use them in the after-world. For the same reason wearing
apparel was also placed at the grave, together with available
articles of adornment and accoutrement.

Names for
Indian Tribes—

Apache – Ndĕ
(The People)

Arivaipa Apache
– Chulĭnné̆

Chiricahua
Apache – Aiahán (People of the East)

Coyotero Apache
– Klĭnápaha (Many Travel Together)

Havasupai –
Dĕzhí̆piklakŭlh (Women Dress in Bark)

Hopi –
Tsekŭlkĭnné̆ (Houses on the Rocks)

Navaho –
Yutahán (Live Far Up)

Northern Indians
– Nda Yutahán (White-man Navaho)

Pima – Saikĭnné̆
(Sand Houses)

Rio Grande
Pueblos – Tu Tlú̆nĭ (Much Water)

San Carlos
Apache – Tseénlĭn (Between Rocks)

Tonto Apache –
Dĭlzhá̆n (Spatter-talkers), or Koún
(Rough)

Zuñi –
Nashtĭzhé̆ (Blackened Eyebrows)

Infant Burial – Apache

From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S.
Curtis

THE JICARILLAS

Language—Athapascan.

Population—784.

Dress—The Jicarillas in
dress show the effect of their contact with the Plains tribes,
especially the Ute. The primitive dress of the men was a deerskin
shirt with sleeves, hip-leggings and moccasins, and the universal
loin-cloth. In winter a large loose deerskin coat was worn in
addition. The women wore a waist open at the sides under the arms,
a deerskin skirt falling below the knees, and legging-moccasins
with very high tops. About the waist the women now also wear a very
broad leather belt, ten to sixteen inches in width, extending well
up under the arms. The men wear their hair in braids hanging over
the shoulders and wound with strips of deerskin. Formerly they wore
bangs in front on a line with the cheek-bones and tied their hair
in a knot at the back of the head, as the Navaho and the Pueblo
Indians do. The women part their hair down the middle, bring it to
the sides of the head, and tie it with strips of deerskin, cloth,
or yarn.

Dwellings—The Jicarilla
dwelling is the same as the tipi of the Plains Indians, once made
of five buffalo skins on the usual framework of poles, with
smoke-hole at the apex. Since the disappearance of the buffalo,
canvas has replaced the skins, and many log houses are also to be
found on the reservation. The native house is called kozhán.

Primitive
Foods—The Jicarillas obtain corn from Rio Grande
Pueblos in exchange for baskets; but formerly they subsisted mainly
by the chase, killing buffalo, deer, antelope, and[pg 135] mountain sheep, besides many kinds of
small game and birds. Piñon nuts and acorns, with various wild
fruits and berries, were used. Bear and fish were never eaten.

Arts and
Industries—The Jicarillas make a great many baskets
of fair quality, from which industry the tribe gained its popular
Spanish name. The most typical of their baskets is tray-shaped;
this not only enters largely into their domestic life, but was
formerly the principal article of barter with their Pueblo
neighbors and Navaho kindred. Some pottery is made, practically all
of which is in the form of small cooking utensils. The large clay
water jar was not used, their wandering life necessitating a water
carrier of greater stability.

Organization—While the
government of the Jicarillas is very loose, the head-chief,
selected from the family of his predecessor, exercises considerable
influence. The two bands into which the tribe is divided had their
origin when a part of the tribe remained for a period on the plains
after an annual buffalo hunt, and henceforth were called
Kohlkahín, Plains People; while those
who returned to the mountains received the name Sait Ndĕ, Sand
People, from the pottery they made. Each of the two bands has a
sub-chief. There are no clans.

Marriage—Marriage is
consummated only by consent of the girl’s parents. The young man
proves his worth by bringing to her family a quantity of game, and
by building a kozhán, which is consecrated on
the night of the wedding, by a medicine-man, with prayers to
Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ.

Origin—People, existent
with the beginning of time, are guided by Chunnaái, the Sun God,
and Klĕnaái, the Moon God, out of an under-world into this, where
the various tribes wander about and find their several homes.

Persons of
Miraculous Birth—Nayé̆nayĕzganĭ, son of the virgin
Yólkai Ĕstsán and the Sun, and Kobadjischínĭ, son of Ĕstsán
Nátlĕshĭn and Water, perform many wonders in ridding the earth of
its monsters. The former was the more powerful and much mythology
centres about him.

Ceremonies—The Girls’
Maturity observance, an annual feast whose main features are
borrowed from the Pueblos, and a four-days medicine rite are the
principal ceremonies of the Jicarillas. Numerous less important
medicine chants are held.

Burial—The dead,
accompanied with their personal possessions, are taken to elevated
places and covered with brush and stones. Their situation is known
to only the few who bear the body away. Formerly the favorite horse
of the deceased was killed and the kozhán
burned, and relatives frequently cut their hair and refrained for a
time from personal adornment.

After-world—When the good
die their spirits are believed to go to a home of plenty in the
sky, where they hunt among great herds of buffalo. Those who have
practised “bad medicine,” or sorcery, go to another part of the sky
and spend eternity in vain effort to dig through the rock into the
land of the good.

Names for
Indian Tribes—

Apache
Mohave
Yuma
Pima

Chishín (Red Paint)

Comanche
Arapaho
Kiowa and all Plains tribes

Nda (Enemies)

Jicarillas –
Haísndayĭn (People Who Came from Below)

Mescaleros –
Natahí̆n (Mescal)

Navaho –
Inltané̆ (Corn Planters)

Pueblos – Chĭáin
(Have Burros)

Ute – Yóta

THE NAVAHO

Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Language—Athapascan.

Population—About 17,000
(officially estimated at 20,600).

Dress—Primitively the men
dressed in deerskin shirts, hip-leggings, moccasins, and native
blankets. These were superseded by what has been the more universal
costume during the present generation: close-fitting cotton or
velvet shirt, without collar, cut rather low about the neck and
left open under the arms; breeches fashioned from any pleasing, but
usually very thin, material, and extending below the knees, being
left open at the outer sides from the bottom to a little above the
knees; deerskin moccasins with rawhide soles, which come to a
little above the ankles, and brown deerskin leggings from
moccasin-top to knee, held in place at the knee by a woven garter
wound several times around the leg and the end tucked in. The hair
is held back from the eyes by a head-band tied in a knot at the
back. In early times the women wore deerskin waist, skirt,
moccasins, and blanket, but these gradually gave place to the
so-called “squaw-dress,” woven on the blanket loom, and consisting
of two small blankets laced together at the sides, leaving
arm-holes, and without being closed at top or bottom. The top then
was laced together, leaving an opening for the head, like a poncho.
This blanket-dress was of plain dark colors. To-day it has
practically disappeared as an article of Navaho costume, the
typical “best” dress of the women now consisting of a velvet or
other cloth skirt reaching to the ankles, a velvet shirt-like waist
cut in practically the same manner as that of the men, and also
left open under the arms. Many silver and shell ornaments are worn
by both sexes. The women part their hair down the middle and tie it
in a knot at the back.

Dwellings—Whatever its
form or stability, the Navaho house is called hogán.
In its most substantial form it is constructed by first planting
four heavy crotch posts in the ground; cross logs are placed in the
crotches, and smaller ones are leaned from the ground to these, the
corner logs being longer, forming a circular framework, which is
covered with brush and a heavy coating of earth. The entrance is
invariably at the east. The building of a hogán and its first
occupancy are attended with ceremony and prayer. For the great
nine-day rites hogáns like those used as dwellings, but larger, are
built. Generally they are used for the one occasion only, but in
localities where there are very few trees the same ceremonial hogán
may be used for a generation or more. For summer use a brush
shelter, usually supported by four corner posts and sometimes
protected by a windbreak, is invariably used, supplanting a once
common single slant shelter.

Primitive
Foods—See the list in the vocabulary.

Arts and
Industries—The Navaho are known the world over for
their skill in weaving. Practically every Navaho woman is a weaver,
and the blanketry produced is one of the most important handicrafts
of any tribe of North American Indians. A few baskets, of a single
form, are made, and for ceremonial use only, most so-called Navaho
ceremonial baskets being manufactured by neighboring tribes. The
Navaho are also skilful silversmiths, having learned the art of
metal-working from the Spaniards. Their first work of this
character, however, was in iron, but this was superseded by the
more easily worked silver. Some pottery is made, but it is rather
crude in form, black in color, and without decoration.

Political
Organization—The government of the Navaho is rather
loose; indeed, inasmuch as they have no head-chief strictly such,
it may be said that they have no tribal
government. Their code of ethics and morals is governed almost
entirely by their religious beliefs. There is always a man who is
denominated the head-chief, but his influence is seldom much
greater than that of any one of the many subordinate chiefs who are
the recognized heads of small groups only.

Clans—Descent is reckoned
through the mother, and a man and a woman belonging to the same
clan may not marry. There are also related clans, forming
phratries, within which marriage[pg 137] is also prohibited by tribal custom. In the
Navaho creation myth it is related that four pairs of men and women
were made by Yólkai Ĕstsán at her home beyond the western ocean,
whence they migrated eastward, far inland, joining others of their
kind created but a short time previously. Each parent pair was
given a sacred jewel wand with which to bring water from the earth
if no springs were found during the journey. The first man brought
water with ease, remarking, “The water is close,” owing to which
circumstance he came to be termed To Ahánĭ, Water Is Close. In a
similar way the other three pairs received the names of To Dĭchínĭ,
Bitter Water; Hashklí̆shnĭ, Mud; and Kĭnya Ánĭ, Houses in the
Cliffs. It required four days to make the journey from the ocean to
what was to be their homeland. On the first day children were born
to the several pairs; they matured by nightfall and camped apart
from the parents as though they were not of kin, and received in
turn a family name derived from their camp surroundings, from
peculiarity of dress or form, or from remarks they made. These in
turn bore children on the following day, who gave birth to others
on the third. Thus were produced three new generations from each
parent pair. All these then became clanship groups bearing names
now applied to various Navaho clans. The four generations,
including the original pairs, formed phratries, which have no
names. The clans in each phratry in the order of generations are as
follows:

To Ahánĭ – Water
Is Close
Tzĭlh Klaánĭ – Mountain Corner
Tánĕ Zánĭ – Scattered Mounds
Hónĕ Gánĭ – Goes Around

To Dĭchínĭ –
Bitter Water
Tsĭns Akánĭ – Under the Trees
Bin Bĕtónĭ – Deer Spring
To Dákoshĕ – Salty Water

Hashklí̆shnĭ –
Mud
To Tsú̆hnĭ – Big Water
Bĭtánĭ – Folds her Arms
Hlúha Dĭné̆ – Reed People

Kí̆nya Ánĭ –
Houses in the Cliffs
Bĕ Aánĭ – Fallen Leaves
Tzĭlh Tad – In Front of the Mountains
Kí̆nya Ánĭ – (An inferior clan of the same name as the first of
this group)

Cliff people
already occupying the country formed three clans: Tsĕnĭjĭkĭnné̆, In
the Rock Houses; To Hĕt Klí̆nĭ, Where the Waters Come Together; and
Tzĭlhnúhodĭnlĭ, Beside the Mountain. An old woman joined the Navaho
from the salt lakes to the south, heading the Ashĭhín clan. People
from Jemez formed the Mai Dĕshkís, or Coyote Pass, clan; Apache
from the Cibicu cañon, the Dĕschínĭ clan, or Red-light People, and
families from Zuñi the Nashtĕzhé̆, Blackened Eyebrows, clan, and
Tŭh’chínĭ, Red Heads, clan, so called from their painted faces and
bodies. There are numerous other clanship groups derived from
adopted peoples now recognized as being distinctly Navaho; the
first sixteen clans here named are accepted in the tribe as being
strictly Navaho in origin.

Marriage—The girl’s
consent is necessary to marriage, but tribal custom demands that
the intended husband compensate her parents, the usual price being
fourteen horses and a silver belt. Indeed, the bringing of the
horses is a part of the ceremony. When a young man[pg 138] desires to marry, but does not have the
necessary number of horses, his friends aid him by presenting
horses until he has the required number. The marriage ceremony
takes place at night under the direction of a
medicine-man.

Ganaskĭdĭ
– Navaho

From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S.
Curtis

Origin—Mythical First
People produced from corn, rain, pollen, and precious stones in a
miraculous manner by four gods and the Winds.

Persons of
Miraculous Birth—Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ are
the sons of the Sun and Water respectively, and the virgin Yólkai
Ĕstsán, White-Shell Woman. Man-destroying monsters, symbolic of
earthly evils, infested the earth until destroyed by these two
miraculous personages.

Ceremonies—The Navaho life
is particularly rich in ceremony and ritual, second only to some of
the Pueblo groups. Note is made of nine of their great nine-day
ceremonies for the treatment of ills, mental and physical. There
are also many less important ceremonies occupying four days, two
days, and one day in their performance. In these ceremonies many
dry-paintings, or “sand altars,” are made, depicting the characters
and incidents of myths. Almost every act of their life—the building
of the hogán, the planting of crops, etc.—is ceremonial in nature,
each being attended with songs and prayers.

Burial—The Navaho dead are
buried by others than immediate relatives in unmarked graves. No
ceremonies are held, for the dead are considered evil and are
feared. The hogán in which death occurs is forever abandoned, often
burned. Sometimes a hogán is demolished over the dead and then left
to decay.

After-world—An under-world
whence came the spirit people who created man and to which spirits
return.

Names for
Indian Tribes—

Acoma – Háqonĭ
(An Acoma word)
Apache – Tzlĭh A Gón (On the Mountains)
Chiricahua – Klí̆shnĭ (Red War-paint)
Cochiti – To Gad (Cedar Water)
Comanche – Aná Tlú̆nĭ (Many Enemies)
Havasupaí – Gohní̆nĭ (A term borrowed from the Hopi)
Hopi – Ayá Kĭnné̆ (Hole Houses)
Isleta – Aná To Ho (Tribe by the Water)
Jemez – Mai Dĕshkís (Coyote Pass)
Laguna – To Tlú̆nĭ (Have much Water)
Mohave, Pima, Maricopa, Yuma, Papago – Bĕ Ĕsá Ntsái (With large
Jars)
Navaho – Dĭné̆
Sandia – Kĭn Nodózĭ (Striped Houses)
San Felipe – To Háchĕle (Pull up Water)
San Ildefonso – Tsĕ Tŭ Kĭnné̆ (Houses between Rocks)
San Juan – Kĭn Klĕchínĭ (Red-house People)
Santa Clara – Ána Sú̆shĭ (Tribe like Bears—from skunkskin
moccasins, first thought to be of bearskin)
Santo Domingo – Kĭn Klĕkái Nĭ (White Houses)
Sia – Tlógĭ (Hairy)
Taos – To Wolh (Water Gurgles)
Zuñi – Nashtĕzhé̆ (Blackened Eyebrows)