The Sia. (1894 N 11 / 1889-1890 (pages 3-158)), by Matilda Coxe Stevenson.

All that remains of the once populous pueblo of Sia is a small group of houses and a mere handful of people in the midst of one of the most extensive ruins of the Southwest (Pl. i) the living relic of an almost extinct people and a pathetic tale of the ravages of warfare and pestilence. This picture is even more touching than the infant’s cradle or the tiny sandal found buried in the cliff in the canyon walls. The Sia of to-day is in much the same condition as that of the ancient cave and cliff dweller as we restore their villages in imagination.

The cosmogony and myths of the Sia point to the present site as their home before resorting to the mesa, which was not, however, their first mesa home; their legends refer to numerous villages on mountain tops in their journeying from the north to the center of the earth.

The population of this village was originally very large, but from its situation it became a target during intertribal feuds. A time came, however, when intertribal strife ceased, and the pueblo tribes united their strength to oppose a common foe, an adversary who struck terror to the heart of the Indian, inasmuch as he not only took possession of their villages and homes, but was bent upon uprooting the ancestral religion to plant in its stead the Roman Catholic faith. To avoid this result the Sia fled to the mesa and built a village, but the foe was not to be thus easily baffled and the mesa village was brought under subjection. That these people again struggled for their freedom is evident from the report of Vargas of his visit there in 1692:

And the Sia were again under Spanish thraldom; but though they made this outward show of submitting to the new faith, neither then nor since have they wavered in their devotion to their aboriginal religion.

The ruins upon the mesa, showing well-defined walls of rectangular stone structures northwest of the present village, are of considerable magnitude, covering many acres. (Pl. ii.) The Indians, however, declare this to have been the great farming districts of Pó-shai-yän-ne (quasi messiah), each field being divided from the others by a stone wall, and that their village was on the mesa eastward of the present one.

The distance from the water and the field induced the Sia to return to their old home, but wars, pestilence, and oppression seem to have been their heritage. When not contending with the marauding nomad and Mexican, they were suffering the effects of disease, and between murder and epidemic these people have been reduced to small numbers. The Sia declare that this condition of affairs continued, to a greater or less degree, with but short periods of respite, until the murders were arrested by the intervention of our Government. For this they are profoundly grateful, and they are willing to attest their gratitude in every possible way.

The Sia to-day number, according to the census taken in 1890, 106, and though they no longer suffer at the murderous hand of an enemy, they have to contend against such diseases as smallpox and diphtheria, and it will require but a few more scourges to obliterate this remnant of a people. They are still harassed on all sides by depredators, much as they were of old; and long continued struggle has not only resulted in the depletion of their numbers, but also in mental deterioration.

The Sia resemble the other pueblo Indians; indeed, so strikingly alike are they in physical structure, complexion, and customs that they might be considered one and the same people, had it not been discovered through philological investigation that the languages of the pueblo Indians have been evolved from four distinct stocks.

Sia is situated upon an elevation at the base of which flows the Jemez river. The Rio Salado empties into the Jemez some 4 miles above Sia and so impregnates the waters of the Jemez with salt that while it is at all times most unpalatable, in the summer season when the river is drained above, the water becomes undrinkable, and yet it is this or nothing with the Sia.

For neighbors they have the people of the pueblo of Santa Ana, 6 miles to the southeast, who speak the same language, with but slight variation, and the pueblo of Jemez, 7 miles north, whose language, according to Powell’s classification, is of another stock, the Tañoan.

The Mexican town of San Ysidro is 5½ miles above Sia, and there are several Mexican settlements north of Jemez. The Mexican town of Bernalillo is on the east bank of the Rio Grande, 17½ miles eastward.

Though Protestant missionaries have been stationed at the pueblo of Jemez since 1878, no attempt has been made to bring the Sia within the pale of Protestantism. The Catholic mission priest who resides at Jemez makes periodical visits to the Sia, when services are held, marriages performed, infants baptized, and prayers offered for the dead.

The Sia are regarded with contempt by the Santa Ana and the Jemez Indians, who never omit an opportunity to give expression to their scorn, feeling assured that this handful of people must submit to insult without hope of redress. Limited intertribal relations exist, and these principally for the purpose of traffic.

Though the Sia have considerable irrigable lands, they have but a meager supply of water, this being due to the fact that after the Mexican towns above them and the pueblo of Jemez have drawn upon the waters of the Jemez river, little is left for the Sia, and in order to have any success with their crops they must curtail the area to be cultivated. Thus they never raise grain enough to supply their needs, even with the practice of the strictest economy according to Indian understanding, and therefore depend upon their more successful neighbors who labor under no such difficulties. The Jemez people have no lack of water supply, and the Santa Ana have their farming districts on the banks of the Rio Grande. Is it strange, then, that two pueblos are found progressing, however slowly, toward a European civilization, while the Sia, though slightly influenced by the Mexicans, have, through their environment, been led not only to cling to autochthonic culture but to lower their plane of social and mental condition?

The Sia women labor industriously at the ceramic art as soon as their grain supply becomes reduced, and the men carry the wares to their unfriendly neighbors for trade in exchange for wheat and corn. While the Santa Ana and Jemez make a little pottery, it is very coarse in texture and in form; in fact, they can not be classed as pottery-making Indians. (Pl. iii.)

As long as the Sia can induce the traders through the country to take their pottery they refrain from barter with their Indian neighbors. (Pl. iv.) The women usually dispose of the articles to the traders (Figs. 1 and 2), but they never venture on expeditions to the Santa Ana and the Jemez.

Each year a period comes, just before the harvest time, when no more pottery is required by their Indian neighbors, and the Sia must deal out their food in such limited portions that the elders go hungry in order to satisfy the children. When starvation threatens there is no thought for the children of the clan, but the head of each household looks to the wants of its own, and there is apparent indifference to the sufferings of neighbors. When questioned, they reply: “We feel sad for our brothers and our sisters, but we have not enough for our own.” Thus when driven to extremes, nature asserts itself in the nearest ties of consanguinity and the “clan” becomes secondary. At these times there are no expressions of dissatisfaction and no attempt on the part of the stronger to take advantage of the weaker. The expression of the men changes to a stoical resignation, and the women’s faces grow a shade paler with the thought that in order to nourish their babes they themselves must be nourished. And yet, such is their code of hospitality that food is always offered to guests as long as a morsel remains.

So like children are these same stoical and patient people that the tears of sorrow are quickly dispelled by the sunshine of success. When their crops are gathered they hold their saints’ day feast, when the Indians from near and far (even a few of the unfriendly Indians lending their unwelcome presence) surfeit at their board. These public dances and feasts of thanksgiving in honor of their patron saint, upon the gathering of their crops, which occur in all the Rio Grande pueblos, present a queer mixture of pagan and Christian religion. The priest owes his success in maintaining a certain influence with these people since the accession of New Mexico to the United States, by non-interference with the introduction of their forms and dances into the worship taught by the church. Hence the Rio Grande Indians are professedly Catholics; but the fact that these Indians and the Mission Indians of California have preserved their religions, admitting them to have been more or less influenced by Catholicism, and hold their ceremonials in secret, practicing their occult powers to the present time, under the very eye of the church, is evidence not only of the tenacity with which they cling to their ancient customs, but of their cunning in maintaining perfect seclusion.

When Maj. Powell visited Tusayan, in 1870, he was received with marked kindness by the Indians and permitted to attend the secret14 ceremonials of their cult. The writer is of the opinion that he was the first and only white man granted this privilege by any of the pueblo Indians previous to the expedition to Zuñi, in 1879, by Mr. Stevenson, of the Bureau of Ethnology.

The writer accompanied Mr. Stevenson on this occasion and during his succeeding investigations among the Zuñi, Tusayan, and the Rio Grande Pueblos. And whenever the stay was long enough to become acquainted with the people the confidence of the priestly rulers and theurgists was gained, and after this conciliation all efforts to be present at the most secret and sacred performances observed and practiced by these Indians were successful. Their sociology and religion are so intricately woven together that the study of the one can not be pursued without the other, the ritual beginning at birth and closing with death.

While the religion of the Rio Grande Indians bears evidence of contact with Catholicism, they are in fact as non-Catholic as before the Spanish conquest. Their environment by the European civilization of the southwest is, however, slowly but surely effecting a change in the observances of their cabalistic practices. For example, the pueblo of Laguna was so disturbed by the Atlantic and Pacific railroad passing by its village that first one and then another of its families lingered at the ranch houses, reluctant to return to their communal home, where they must come in contact with the hateful innovations of their land; and so additions were made to render the summer house more comfortable for the winter, and after a time a more substantial structure supplanted the temporary abode, and the communal dwelling was rarely visited except to comply with the religious observances. Some of these homes were quite remote from the village, and the men having gradually increased their stock of cattle found constant vigilance necessary to protect them from destruction by the railroad and the hands of the cowboy; and so first one and then another of the younger men ventured to be absent from a ceremonial in order to look up some stray head of cattle, until the aged men cried out in horror that their children were forgetting the religion of their forefathers.

The writer knew of but one like delinquent among the Zuñi when she was there in 1886. A son of one of the most bigoted priests in the village had become so eager to possess an American wagon, and his attention was so absorbed in looking after his cattle with a view to the accumulation of means whereby to purchase a wagon, that he dared to absent himself from a most important and sacred ceremonial, notwithstanding the current belief that for such impiety the offender must die within four days. The father denounced him in the strongest terms, declaring he was no longer his son. And the man told the writer, on his return to the village, “that he was afraid because he staid away, and he guessed he would die within four days, but some of his cattle had strayed off and he feared the cowboy.” The fourth day passed 15and the man still lived, and the scales dropped from his eyes. From that time his religious duties were neglected in his eagerness for the accumulation of wealth.

Thus the railroad, the merchant, and the cowboy, without this purpose in view, are effecting a change which is slowly closing, leaf by leaf, the record of the religious beliefs and practices of the pueblo Indian. With the Sia this record book is being more rapidly closed, but from a different cause. It is not due to the Christianizing of these Indians, for they have nothing of Protestantism among them, and though professedly Catholic, they await only the departure of the priest to return to their secret ceremonials. The Catholic priest baptizes the infant, but the child has previously received the baptismal rite of its ancestors. The Catholic priest marries the betrothed, but they have been previously united according to their ancestral rites. The Romish priest holds mass that the dead may enter heaven, but prayers have already been offered that the soul may be received by Sûś-sĭs-tin-na-ko (their creator) into the lower world whence it came. As an entirety these people are devotees to their religion and its observances, and yet with but few exceptions, they go through their rituals, having but vague understanding of their origin or meaning. Each shadow on the dial brings nearer to a close the lives of those upon whose minds are graven the traditions, mythology, and folklore as indelibly as are the pictographs and monochromes upon the rocky walls.

An aged theurgist whose lore was unquestioned, in fact he was regarded as their oracle (Pl. v), passed away during the summer of 1890. Great were the lamentations that the keeper of their traditions slept, and with him slept much that they would never hear again. There are, now, but five men from whom any connected account of their cosmogony and mythology may be gleaned, and they are no longer young. Two of these men are not natives of Sia, but were adopted into the tribe when young children. One is a Tusayan; the other a San Felipe Indian. The former is the present governor, amiable, brave, and determined, and while deploring that his people have no understanding of American civilization, he stands second only to the oracle in his knowledge of lore of the Sia. The San Felipe Indian is a like character, and if Sia possessed a few more such men there might yet be a future for that pueblo.

While the mythology and cult practices differ in each pueblo there is still a striking analogy between them, the Zuñi and Tusayan furnishing the richer field for the ethnographer, their religion and sociology being virtually free from Catholic influence.

The Indian official is possessed of a character so penetrating, so diplomatic, cunning, and reticent that it is only through the most friendly relations and by a protracted stay that anything can be learned of the myths, legends, and rites with which the lives of these people are so thoroughly imbued and which they so zealously guard.

The theurgists of the several cult societies, upon learning that the object of the writer’s second visit to Sia was similar to that of the previous one, graciously received her in their ceremonials, revealing the secrets more precious to them than life itself. When unable to give such information as she sought they would bring forth their oracle (the aged theurgist) whose old wrinkled face brightened with intelligent interest as he related without hesitancy that which was requested.

The form of government of all the pueblos is much the same, they being civil organizations divided into several departments, with an official head for each department.

With the Sia (and likewise with the other pueblos) the ti´ämoni, by virtue of his priestly office, is ex officio chief executive and legislator; the war priest (he and his vicar being the earthly representatives of the twin war heroes) having immediate control and direction of the military and of tribal hunts. Secret cult societies concerning the Indians’ relations to anthropomorphic and zoomorphic beings are controlled each by a particular theurgist. The war chief, the local governor, and the magistrate as well as the ti´ämoni and theurgists have each a vicar who assists in the official and religious duties.

While the Zuñi priesthood for rain consists of a plurality of priests and a priestess, the priest of the north being the arch ruler, the Sia have but one such priest. With the Zuñi the arch-ruler holds his office through maternal inheritance; with the Sia it is a life appointment. The ti´ämoni of Sia is chosen alternately from three clans—corn, coyote, and a species of cane. Though the first priest was selected by the mother Ût´sĕt, who directed that the office should always be filled by a member of the corn clan, he in time caused dissatisfaction by his action towards infants (see cosmogony), and upon his death the people concluded to choose a ti´ämoni from the coyote clan, but he proved not to have a good heart, for the cloud people refused to send rain and the earth became dry. The third one was appointed from the cane clan, but he, too, causing criticism, the Sia determined they would be obedient to the command of their mother Ût´sĕt, and returned to the corn clan in selecting their fourth ti´ämoni, but his reign brought disappointment. The next ruler was chosen from the coyote clan, and proved more satisfactory; but the people, deciding it was best not to confine the selection of their ti´ämoni to the one clan, appointed the sixth from the cane clan, and since that time this office has been filled alternately from the corn, coyote, and cane clans until the latter became extinct. The present ti´ämoni’s clan is the coyote, and that of his vicar, the corn. Their future appointments will necessarily come from these two clans, as practically they are reduced to these.

The ti´ämoni and vicar are appointed by the two war priests, the vicar succeeding to the office of ti´ämoni.

The present ti´ämoni entered his office without having filled the subordinate place, his predecessor, a very aged man, and the vicar, likewise 17old, having died about the same time. When the selection of a younger brother or vicar has been made, the vicar to the war priest calls upon the incoming ruler, who accompanies him to the house of the appointee to fill the office of vicar to the ti´ämoni. The younger war priest, followed by the ti´ämoni elect, who precedes the vicar, goes to the ancestral official chamber of the ti´ämoni, where the elder war priest, the theurgists of the several cult societies, with their vicars, have assembled to be present at the installation of the ti´ämoni. The war priest arises to meet the party, and, with the ti´ämoni immediately before him he says: “This man is now our priest; he is now our father and our mother for all time;” and then addressing the ti´ämoni he continues: “You are no more to work in the fields or to bring wood, the theurgists of the cult and all your other children will labor for you, our ti´ämoni, for all years to come; you are not to work, but to be to us as our father and our mother.” “Good! good!” is repeated by the theurgists. The war priest then presents the ti´ämoni with the ensign of his office—a slender staff, crooked at the end and supposed to be the same which was presented to the first ruler by the mother Ût´sĕt—the crook being symbolic of longevity. Upon receiving the crook the ti´ämoni draws the sacred breath from it and the war priest embraces him and sprinkles the cane with meal with a prayer that the thoughts and heart of Ût´sĕt may be conveyed from the staff to the newly-chosen ruler (Ût´sĕt upon presenting this cane to the first ti´ämoni of this world, gave with it all her thoughts and her heart), and now he, too, draws from the cane the sacred breath. The theurgists rise in a body, each one embracing the ti´ämoni and sprinkling meal upon the staff, at the same time drawing from it the sacred breath. The civil authorities next, and then the populace, including the women and children, repeat the embracing, the sprinkling of meal, and the drawing of the sacred breath.

The following day all the members of the pueblo, including the children, collect wood for the ti´ämoni, depositing it by the side of his dwelling.

The Sia are much chagrined that their present ti´ämoni (who is a young man) participates in the hunts, works in the fields, and is ever ready to join in a pleasure ride over the hills. This is not the tribal custom; the ti´ämoni may have a supervision over his herds and fields, but his mind is supposed to be absorbed with religion and the interests of his people, and he never leaves his village for a distance, excepting to make pilgrimages to the shrines or other of their Meccas. This young ruler is a vain fellow, having but little concern for the welfare of his people, but he is most punctilious in his claim to the honors due him.

The theurgists hold office for life, each vicar succeeding to the function of his theurgist, who in turn appoints, with the approbation of the ti´ämoni, the member whom he thinks best fitted to fill the position of vicar.

For the selection of the civil and subordinate military officers the18 ti´ämoni meets with his vicar, and the war priest and vicar in the official chamber of the ti´ämoni, in the month of December, to discuss the several appointments to be made; that of war chief and his assistant, the governor and lieutenant-governor, the magistrate and his deputy. After the names have been decided upon the theurgists of the secret cult societies are notified and they join the ti´ämoni and his associates, when they are informed of the decision and their concurrence requested. This is always given, the consultation with the theurgists being but a matter of courtesy. The populace then assemble, when announcement is made of the names of the new appointees. These appointments are annual; the same party, however, may serve any number of terms.

The war chief performs minor duties which would otherwise fall to the war priest. It is the duty of the war chief to patrol the town during the meetings of the cult societies and to surround the village19 with mounted guardsmen at the time of a dance of the Ka´-ᵗsu-na. A Mexican, especially, must not look upon one of these anthropomorphic beings. The war chief also directs the hunt under the instruction of the war priest and vicar. It is not obligatory that he participate in the hunt; his vicar, as his representative or other self, may lead the huntsmen. The governor sees that the civil laws are executed, he looking after the more important matters, leaving the minor cases in the hands of the magistrate. He designates the duties of his people for the coming day by crying his commands in the plaza at sunset.

Wizards and witches are tried and punished by the war priest; and it has been but a few years since a man and his wife suffered death for practicing this diabolical craft. Their child, a boy of some twelve years, (Fig. 3), is a pauper who at times begs from door to door, and at other times he is taken into some family and made use of until they grow tired of dispensing their charity. The observations of the writer led her to believe that the boy earned all that he received. Socially, held in contempt by his elders, he seems a favorite with the children, though this unfortunate is seldom allowed the joy of childish sport. He is, however, a member of one of the most important cult societies (the knife) belonging to its several divisions.

There is but one member of the eagle, one of the bear, and one of the squash clan, and these men are advanced in years. There is a second member of the squash clan, but he is a Tusayan by birth. The only clans that are numerically well represented are the corn and coyote. There is but one family of the tobacco clan.

The writer could not learn that there had ever been more than twenty-one clans, and although the table shows six at the present time, it may be seen from the statement that there are virtually but two.

Marrying into the clan of either parent is in opposition to the old law; but at present there is nothing for the Sia to do but to break these laws, if they would preserve the remnant of their people, and while such marriages are looked upon with disfavor, it is “the inevitable.” The young men are watched with a jealous eye by their elders that they do not seek brides among other tribes, and though the beauty20 of the Sia maidens is recognized by the other pueblo people, they are rarely sought in marriage, for, according to the tribal custom, the husband makes his home with the wife; and there is little to attract the more progressive Indian of the other pueblos to Sia, where the eagerness to perpetuate a depleted race causes the Sia to rejoice over every birth, especially if it be a female child, regardless whether the child be legitimate or otherwise.

When a girl reaches puberty she informs her mother, who invites the female members of her clan to her house, where an informal feast is enjoyed. The guests congratulate the girl upon having arrived at the state of womanhood, and they say to her, “As yet you are like a child, but you will soon be united with a companion and you will help to increase your people.” The only male present is the girl’s father. The news, however, soon spreads through the village, and it is not long before offers are made to the mother for the privilege of sexual relations with the girl. The first offers are generally refused, the mother holding her virgin daughter for the highest bidder. These are not necessarily offers of marriage, but are more commonly otherwise, and are frequently made by married men.

Though the Sia are monogamists, it is common for the married, as well as the unmarried, to live promiscuously with one another; the husband being as fond of his wife’s children as if he were sure of the paternal parentage. That these people, however, have their share of latent jealousy is evident from the secrecy observed on the part of a married man or woman to prevent the anger of the spouse. Parents are quite as fond of their daughters’ illegitimate offspring, and as proud of them as if they had been born in wedlock; and the man who marries a woman having one or more illegitimate children apparently feels the same attachment for these children as for those his wife bears him.

Some of the women recount their relations of this character with as much pride as a civilized belle would her honest offers of marriage. One of the most attractive women in Sia, though now a grandmother, once said to the writer:

This woman added as an evidence of her great devotion to her husband, that since her marriage she had not lived with any other man.

These loose marriage customs doubtless arise from the fact that the Sia are now numerically few and their increase is desired, and that, as21 many of the clans are now extinct, it is impossible to intermarry in obedience to ancient rule.

The Sia are no exception to all the North American aborigines with whom the writer is acquainted, the man being the active party in matrimonial aspirations. If a woman has not before been married, and is young, the man speaks to her parents before breathing a word of his admiration to the girl. If his desire meets with approbation, the following day he makes known to the girl his wish for her. The girl usually answers in the affirmative if it be the will of her parents. Some two months are consumed in the preparations for the wedding. Moccasins, blankets, a dress, a belt, and other parts of the wardrobe are prepared by the groom and the clans of his paternal and maternal parents. The clans of the father and mother of the girl make great preparations for the feast, which occurs after the marriage. The groom goes alone to the house of the girl, his parents having preceded him, and carries his gifts wrapped in a blanket. The girl’s mother sits to her right, and to the right of this parent the groom’s mother sits; there is space for the groom on the left of the girl, and beyond, the groom’s father sits, and next to him the girl’s father. When the groom enters the room the girl advances to meet him and receives the bundle; her mother then comes forward and taking it deposits it in some part of the same room, when the girl returns to her seat and the groom sits beside her. The girl’s father is the first to speak, and says to the couple, “You must now be as one, your hearts must be as one heart, you must speak no bad words, and one must live for the other; and remember, your two hearts must now be as one heart.” The groom’s father then repeats22 about the same, then the girl’s mother, and the mother of the groom speak in turn. After the marriage, which is strictly private, all the invited guests assemble and enjoy a feast, the elaborateness of the feast depending upon the wealth and prominence of the family.

Tribal custom requires the groom to make his home with his wife’s family, the couple sleeping in the general living room with the remainder of the family; but with the more progressive pueblos, and with the Sia to a limited extent, the husband, if he be able, after a time provides a house for his family.

The Sia wear the conventional dress of the Pueblos in general. The women have their hair banged across the eyebrows, and the side locks cut even midway the cheek. The back of the hair is left long and done up in a cue, though some of the younger women, at the present time, have adopted the Mexican way of dividing their hair down the back and crossing it in a loop at the neck and wrapping it with yarn. The men cut their hair the same way across the eyebrows, their side locks being brought to the center of the chin and cut, and the back hair done up similar to the manner of the women.

The children are industrious and patient little creatures, the boys assisting their elders in farming and pastoral pursuits, and the girls performing their share of domestic duties. A marked trait is their loving-kindness and care for younger brothers and sisters. Every little 23girl has her own water vase as soon as she is old enough to accompany her mother to the river in the capacity of assistant water-carrier, and thus they begin at a very early age to poise the vase, Egyptian fashion, on their heads.

There is no employment in pueblo life that the women and children seem so thoroughly to enjoy as the processes of house building. (Fig. 5.) It is the woman’s prerogative to do most of this work. (Fig. 6.) Men make the adobe bricks when these are to be used. In Sia the houses are adobe and small bowlders which are gathered from the ruins among which they live. It is only occasionally that a new house is constructed. The older ones are remodeled, and these are always smoothly plastered on the exterior and interior, so that there is no evidence of a stone wall. (Pl. vi.) The men do all carpenter work, and the Sia are remarkably clever in this branch of mechanism, considering their crude implements and entire absence of foreign instruction. They also lay the heavy beams, and they sometimes assist in other work of the building. When it became known that the writer wished to have the earth hardened under and in front of her tents the entire female population appeared at the camp ready for work, and for a couple of days the winds wafted over the plain the merry chatter and laughter of young and old.

The process of laying the tent floors was the same as the Sia observe in making floors in their houses. A hoe is employed to break the24 earth to about eight inches in depth and to loosen all rocks that may be found (Fig. 4). The rocks are then removed and the foreign earth, a kind of clay, is brought by the girls on their backs in blankets or the square pieces of calico which hang from their shoulders (Figs. 5 and 6) and deposited over the ground which has been worked (Fig. 7). The hoe is again employed to combine the clay with the freshly broken earth (Fig. 8); this done, the space is brushed over with brush brooms and sprinkled (Fig. 9) until the earth is thoroughly saturated for several inches deep. Great care is observed in leveling the floor (Fig. 10), and extra quantities of clay must be added here and there. Then begins the stamping process (Fig. 11). When the floor is as smooth as it can be made by stamping (Pl. vii), the pounders go to work, each one with a stone flat on one side and smooth as a polishing stone. (Pl. viii.) Many such specimens have been obtained from the ruins in the southwest. When this work is completed the floor is allowed to partially dry, when plaster made of the same clay (Fig. 12), which has been long and carefully worked, is spread over the floor with the hand, and when done the whole looks as smooth as a cement floor, but it is not so durable, such floors requiring frequent renovation. The floor may be improved, however, by a coating of beef’s or goat’s blood, and this process is usually adopted in the houses (Fig. 13), little ones watching their elders at work inside the tent.

Two men only are possessors of herds of sheep, but a few cattle are owned individually by many of the Sia.

The cattle are not herded collectively, but by each individual owner. Sometimes the boys of different families go together to herd their stock, but it receives no attention whatever from the officials of the village so long as it is unmolested by strangers.

The Sia own about 150 horses, but seldom or never use them as beasts of burden. They are kept in pasture during the week, and every Saturday the war chief designates the six houses which are to furnish herders for the round-up. Should the head of the house have a son sufficiently large the son may be sent in his place. Only such houses are selected as own horses. The herdsmen start out Saturday morning; their return depends upon their success in rounding up the animals, but they usually get back Sunday morning.

Upon discovering the approach of the herdsmen and horses many of the women and children, too impatient to await the gathering of them in the corral, hasten to the valley to join the cavalcade, and upon reaching the party they at once scramble for the wood rats (Neotoma) which hang from the necks of the horses and colts. The men of the village are also much excited, but they may not participate in the frolic. From the time the herders leave the village until their return they are on the lookout for the Neotoma, which must be very abundant judging from26 the number gathered on these trips. The rats are suspended by a yucca ribbon tied around the necks of the animals. The excitement increases as the horses ascend the hill; and after entering the corral it reaches the highest point, and the women and children run about among the horses, entirely devoid of any fear of the excited animals, in their efforts to snatch the rats from their necks. Many are the narrow escapes, but one is seldom hurt. The women throw the lariat, some of them being quite expert, and drawing the horses near them, pull the rats from their necks. Numbers fail, but there are always the favored few who leave the corral in triumph with as many rats as their two hands can carry. The rats are skinned and cooked in grease and eaten as a great delicacy.

The Sia have an elaborate cosmogony, highly colored with the heroic deeds of mythical beings. That which the writer here presents is simply the nucleus of their belief from which spring stories in infinite numbers, in which every phenomenon of nature known to these people is accounted for. Whole chapters could be devoted to the experiences of each mythical being mentioned in the cosmogony.

In the beginning there was but one being in the lower world, Sûs´sîstinnako, a spider. At that time there were no other animals, birds, 27reptiles, or any living creature but the spider. He drew a line of meal from north to south and crossed it midway from east to west; and he placed two little parcels north of the cross line, one on either side of the line running north and south. These parcels were very valuable and precious, but the people do not know to this day of what they consisted; no one ever knew but the creator, Sûs´sĭstinnako. After placing the parcels in position, Sûs´sĭstinnako sat down on the west side of the line running north and south, and south of the cross line, and began to sing, and in a little while the two parcels accompanied him in the song by shaking, like rattles. The music was low and sweet, and after awhile two women appeared, one evolved from each parcel; and in a short time people began walking about; then animals, birds, and all animate objects appeared, and Sûs´sĭstinnako continued to sing until his creation was complete, when he was very happy and contented. There were many people and they kept close together, and did not pass about much, for fear of stepping upon one another; there was no light and they could not see. The two women first created were the mothers of all; the one created on the east side of the line of meal, Sûs´sĭstinnako named Ût[´]sĕt, and she was the mother of all Indians; he called the other Now[´]ûtsĕt, she being the mother of other nations. Sûs´sĭstínnako divided the people into, clans, saying to certain of the people: “You are of the corn clan, and you are the first of all;” and28 to others he said: “You belong to the coyote, the bear, the eagle people,” and so on.

After Sûs´sĭstinnako had nearly perfected his creation for Ha´arts (the earth), he thought it would be well to have rain to water the earth, and so he created the cloud, lightning, thunder, and rainbow peoples to work for the people of Ha´arts. This second creation was separated into six divisions, one of which was sent to each of the cardinal points and to the zenith and nadir, each division making its home in a spring in the heart of a great mountain, upon whose summit was a giant tree. The Sha´-ka-ka (spruce) was on the mountain of the north; the Shwi´-ti-ra-wa-na (pine) on the mountain of the west; the Mai´-chi-na (oak)—Quercus undulata, variety Gambelii—on the mountain of the south; the Shwi´-si-ni-ha´-na-we (aspen) on the mountain of the east; the Marsh´-ti-tä-mo (cedar) on the mountain of the zenith, and the Mor´-ri-tä-mo (oak), variety pungens, on the mountain of the nadir. While each division had its home in a spring, Sûs´sĭstinnako gave to these people Ti´-ni-a, the middle plain of the world (the world was divided into three parts: Ha´arts, the earth; Ti´nia, the middle plain, and Hu´-wa-ka, the upper plain), not only for a working field for the benefit of the people of Ha´arts, but also for their pleasure ground.

Not wishing this second creation to be seen by the people of Ha´arts as they passed about over Ti´nia, he commanded the Sia to smoke, that29 clouds might ascend and serve as masks to protect the people of Ti´nia from view of the inhabitants of Ha´arts.

The people of Ha´arts made houses for themselves by digging holes in rocks and the earth. They could not build houses as they now do, because they could not see. In a short time the two mothers, Ût´sĕt and Now´ûtsĕt (the latter being the elder and larger, but the former having the best mind and heart), who resided in the north, went into the chita (estufa) and talked much to one another, and they decided that they would make light, and said: “Now we will make light, that our people may see; we can not now tell the people, but to-morrow will be a good day and day after to-morrow will also be a good day”—meaning that their thoughts were good, and they spoke with one tongue, and that their future would be bright, and they added: “Now all is covered with darkness, but after awhile we will have light.” These two women, being inspired by Sûs´sĭstinnako, created the sun from white shell, turkis, red stone, and abalone shell. After making the sun they carried him to the east and there made a camp, as there were no houses. The next morning they ascended a high mountain and dropped the sun down behind it, and after a time he began to ascend, and when the people saw the light their hearts rejoiced. When far off his face was blue; as he came nearer the face grew brighter. They, however, did not see the sun himself, but a mask so large that it covered his entire body.30 The people saw that the world was large and the country beautiful, and when the women returned to the village they said to the people: “We are the mothers of all.”

Though the sun lighted the world in the day, he gave no light at night, as he returned to his home in the west; and so the two mothers created the moon from a slightly black stone, many varieties of a yellow stone, turkis, and a red stone, that the world might be lighted at night, and that the moon might be a companion and a brother to the sun; but the moon traveled slowly, and did not always furnish light, and so they created the star people and made their eyes of beautiful sparkling white crystal, that they might twinkle and brighten the world at night. When the star people lived in the lower world they were gathered into groups, which were very beautiful; they were not scattered about as they are in the upper world. Again the two women entered the chita and decided to make four houses—one in the north, one in the west, one in the south, and one in the east—house in this instance meaning pueblo or village. When these houses were completed they said, now we have some beautiful houses; we will go first to that of the north and talk much for all things good. Now´ûtsĕt said to her sister: “Let us make other good things,” and the sister asked: “What things do you wish to make?” She answered: “We are the mothers of all peoples, and we must do good work.” “Well,” replied the younger sister, “to-morrow I will pass around and see my other houses, and you will remain here.”

After Ût´sĕt had traveled over the world, visiting the houses of the west, south, and east, she returned to her home in the north and was graciously received by Now´ûtsĕt, who seemed happy to see her younger31 sister, and after a warm greeting she invited her to be seated. Now´ûtsĕt had a picture which she did not wish the sister to see, and she covered it with a blanket, and said, “Guess what I have here?” (pointing to the covered picture) “and when you guess correctly I will show you.” “I do not know,” said Ût´sĕt and again the elder one asked, “What do you think I have here?” and the other replied, “I do not know.” A third time Ût´sĕt was asked, and replied that she did not know, adding, “I wish to speak straight, and I must therefore tell you I do not know what you have there.” Then Now´ûtsĕt said, “That is right.” After a while the younger sister said, “I think you have under that blanket a picture, to which you will talk when you are alone.” “You are right,” said the elder sister, “you have a good head to know things.” Now´ûtsĕt, however, was much displeased at the wisdom displayed by Ût´sĕt. She showed the picture to Ût´sĕt and in a little while Ût´sĕt left, saying, “I will now return to my house and no longer travel; to-morrow you will come to see me.”

After the return of Ût´sĕt to her home she beckoned to the Chas´ka (chaparral cock) to come to her, and said, “You may go early to-morrow morning to the house of the sun in the east, and then follow the road from there to his home in the west, and when you reach the house in the west remain there until my sister comes to my house to talk to me, when I will call you.” In the early morning the elder sister called at the house of the younger. “Sit down, my sister,” said the younger one, and after a little time she said, “Let us go out and walk about; I saw a beautiful bird pass by, but I do not know where he lives,” and she pointed to the footprints of the bird upon the ground, which was soft, and the tracks were very plain, and it could be seen that the footprints were in a straight line from the house of the sun in the east to his house in the west. “I can not tell,” said the younger sister, “perhaps the bird came from the house in the east and has gone to the house in the west; perhaps he came from the house in the west and has gone to the house in the east; as the feet of the bird point both ways, it is hard to tell. What do you think, sister?” “I can not say,” replied the other. Four times Ût´sĕt asked the question and received the same reply. The fourth time the elder sister added, “How can I tell? I do not know which is the front of the foot and which is the heel, but I think the bird has gone to the house in the east.” “Your thoughts are wrong,” replied the younger sister; “I know where the bird is, and he will soon be here;” and she gave a call and in a little while the Chas´ka came running to her from, the west.

The elder sister was mortified at her lack of knowledge, and said, “Come to my house to-morrow; to-day you are greater than I. I thought the bird had gone to the house in the east, but you knew where he was, and he came at your call; to-morrow you come to me.”

On the morrow the younger sister called at the house of the elder and was asked to be seated. Then Now´ûtsĕt said, “Sister, a word32 with you; what do you think that is?” pointing to a figure enveloped in a blanket, with only the feet showing, which were crossed. Four times the question was asked, and each time the younger sister said she could not tell, but finally she added, “I think the feet are crossed; the one on the right should be left and the left should be right.” “To whom do the feet belong?” inquired the elder sister. The younger sister was prompted by her grandmother, Sûs´sĭstinnako[4], the spider woman, to say, “I do not think it is either man or woman,” referring to beings created by Sûs´sĭstinnako, “but something you have made.” The elder sister replied,“You are right, my sister.” She threw the blanket off, exposing a human figure; the younger sister then left, asking the elder to call at her house on the morrow, and all night Ût´sĕt was busy preparing an altar under the direction, however, of Sûs´sĭstinnako. She covered the altar with a blanket, and in the morning when the elder sister called they sat together for a while and talked; then Ût´sĕt said, pointing to the covered altar, “What do you think I have there?” Now´ûtsĕt replied, “I can not tell; I may have my thoughts about it, but I do not know.” Four times Now´ûtsĕt was asked, and each time she gave the same reply. Then the younger sister threw off the blanket, and they both looked at the altar, but neither spoke a word.

When the elder sister left, she said to Ût´sĕt, “To-morrow you come to my house,” and all night she was busy arranging things for the morning, and in the morning Ût´sĕt hastened to her sister’s house. (She was accompanied by Sûs´sĭstinnako, who followed invisible close to her ear.) Now´ûtsĕt asked, “What have I there?” pointing to a covered object, and Ût´sĕt replied, “I can not tell, but I have thought that you have under that blanket all things that are necessary for all time to come; perhaps I speak wrong.” “No,” replied Now´ûtsĕt, “you speak correctly,” and she threw off the blanket, saying, “My sister, I may be the larger and the first, but your head and heart are wise; you know much; I think my head must be weak.” The younger sister then said: “To-morrow you come to my house;” and in the morning when the elder sister called at the house of the younger she was received in the front room and asked to be seated, and they talked awhile; then the younger one said: “What do you think I have in the room there?” pointing to the door of an inner room. Four times the question was asked and each time Now´ûtsĕt replied, “I can not tell.” “Come with me,” said Ût´sĕt, and she cried as she threw open the door, “All this is mine, when you have looked well we will go away.” The room was filled with the Ka´ᵗsuna beings with monster heads which Ût´sĕt had created, under the direction of Sûs´sĭstinnako.

1. Pai´-ä-tä-mo: All men of Ha´arts (the earth), the sun, moon, stars, Ko´-shai-ri and Quer´-rän-na.

2. Ko´-pĭsh-tai-a: The cloud, lightning, thunder, rainbow peoples, and all animal life not included under the first and third heads.

3. Ka´ᵗsuna: Beings having human bodies and monster heads, who are personated in Sia by men and women wearing masks.

After a time the younger sister closed the door and they returned to the front room. Not a word had been spoken except by the younger. As the elder sister left she said, “To-morrow you come to my house.” Sûs´sĭstinnako whispered in the ear of the younger, “To-morrow you will see fine things in your sister’s house, but they will not be good; they will be bad.” Now´ûtsĕt then said: “Before the Sun has left his home we will go together to see him; we will each have a wand on our heads made of the long white fluffy feathers of the under tail of the eagle, and we will place them vertically on our heads that they may see the sun when he first comes out;” and the younger sister replied: “You are the elder and must go before, and your plumes will see the sun first; mine can not see him until he has traveled far, because I am so small; you are the greater and must go before.” Though she said this she knew better; she knew that though she was smaller in stature she was the greater and more important woman. That night Sûs´sĭstinnako talked much to Ût´sĕt. She said: “Now that you have created the Ka´ᵗsuna you must create a man as messenger between the sun and the Ka´ᵗsuna and another as messenger between the moon and the Ka´ᵗsuna.”

The first man created was called Ko´shairi; he not only acts as courier between the sun and the Ka´ᵗsuna, but he is the companion, the jester and musician (the flute being his instrument) of the sun; he is also mediator between the people of the earth and the sun; when acting as courier between the sun and the Ka´ᵗsuna and vice versa and as mediator between the people of the earth and the sun he is chief for the sun; when accompanying the sun in his daily travels he furnishes him with music and amusement; he is then the servant of the sun. The second man created was Quer´ränna, his duties being identical with those of the Ko´shairi, excepting that the moon is his particular chief instead of the sun, both, however, being subordinate to the sun.

After the creation of Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna, Ût´sĕt called Shu-ah-kai (a small black bird with white wings) to her and said:

“To-morrow my sister and I go to see the sun when he first leaves his house. We will have wands on our heads, we will be side by side; she is much taller than I; the sun will see her face before he sees mine, and that will not be good; you must go to-morrow morning very early near the house of the sun and take a plume from your left wing, but none from your right; spread your wings and rest in front of the sun as he comes from his house.” The two women started very early in the morning to greet the rising sun. They were accompanied by all34 the men and youths, carrying their bows and arrows. The elder woman, after they halted to await the coming of the sun, said: “We are here to watch for the sun.” (The people had divided, some being on the side of Now´ûtsĕt, the others with Ût´sĕt). “If the sun looks first upon me, all the people on my side will be my people and will slay the others, and if the sun looks first upon the face of my sister all the people on her side will be her people and they will destroy my people.”

As the sun left his house, the bird Shu´ahkai placed himself so as to obscure the light, excepting where it penetrated through the space left by the plucking of the feather from his wing, and the light shone, not only on the wand on the head of the younger sister, but it covered her face, while it barely touched the top of the plumes of the elder; and so the people of the younger sister destroyed those of the elder. The two women stood still while the men fought. The women remained on the mountain top, but the men descended into a grassy park to fight. After a time the younger sister ran to the park and cried, “This is enough; fight no more.” She then returned to the mountain and said to her sister, “Let us descend to the park and fight.” And they fought like women—not with arrows—but wrestled. The men formed a circle around them and the women fought hard and long. Some of the men said, “Let us go and part the women;” others said, “No; let them alone.” The younger woman grew very tired in her arms, and cried to her people, “I am very tired,” and they threw the elder sister upon the ground and tied her hands; the younger woman then commanded her people to leave her, and she struck her sister with her fists about the head and face as she lay upon the ground, and in a little while killed her. She then cut the breast with a stone knife and took out the heart, her people being still in a circle, but the circle was so large that they were some distance off. She held the heart in her hand and cried: “Listen, men and youths! This woman was my sister, but she compelled us to fight; it was she who taught you to fight. The few of her people who escaped are in the mountains and they are the people of the rats;” and she cut the heart into pieces and threw it upon the ground, saying, “Her heart will become rats, for it was very bad,” and immediately rats could be seen running in all directions. She found the center of the heart full of cactus, and she said, “The rats for evermore will live with the cacti;” and to this day the rats thus live (referring to the Neotoma). She then told her people to return to their homes.

It was about this time that Sûs´sĭstinnako organized the cult societies, instructing all of the societies in the songs for rain, but imparting only to certain ones the secrets whereby disease is extracted through the sucking and brushing processes.

For eight years after the fight (years referring to periods of time) the people were very happy and all things flourished, but the ninth year was very bad, the whole earth being filled with water. The water did35 not fall in rain, but came in as rivers between the mesas, and continued flowing from all sides until the people and all animals fled to the mesa. The waters continued to rise until nearly level with the mesa top, and Sûs´sĭstinnako cried, “Where shall my people go? Where is the road to the north, he looking to the north, the road to the west, he facing the west, the road to the south, he turning south, the road to the east, he facing east? Alas, I see the waters are everywhere.” And all of his theurgists sang four days and nights before their altars and made many offerings, but still the waters continued to rise as before. Sûs´sĭstinnako said to the sun: “My son, you will ascend and pass over the world above; your course will be from the north to the south, and you will return and tell me what you think of it.” On his return the sun said, “Mother, I did as you bade me, and I did not like the road.” Again he told him to ascend and pass over the world from the west to the east, and on his return Sûs´sĭstinnako inquired how he liked that road. “It may be good for some, mother, but I did not like it.” “You will again ascend and pass over the straight road from east to west,” and upon the sun’s return the father inquired what he thought of that road. His reply was, “I am much contented; I like the road much.” Then Sûs´sĭstinnako said, “My son, you will ascend each day and pass over the world from east to west.” Upon each day’s journey the sun stops midway from the east to the center of the world to eat his breakfast, in the center to eat his dinner, and midway the center to the west to eat his supper, he never failing to take his three meals daily, stopping at these particular points to obtain them.

The sun wears a shirt of dressed deerskin, and leggings of the same, reaching to his thighs; the shirt and leggings are fringed; his moccasins are also of deerskin and embroidered in yellow, red, and turkis beads; he wears a kilt of deerskin, the kilt having a snake painted upon it; he carries a bow and arrows, the quiver being of cougar skin, hanging over his shoulder, and he holds his bow in his left hand and an arrow in his right; he still wears the mask which protects him from view of the people of the earth. An eagle plume with a parrot plume on either side, ornaments the top of the mask, and an eagle plume is on either side of the mask and one is at the bottom; the hair around the head and face is red like fire, and when it moves and shakes the people can not look closely at the mask; it is not intended that they should observe closely and thereby know that instead of seeing the sun they see only his mask; the heavy line encircling the mask is yellow, and indicates rain. (Fig. 14.)

Each night the sun passes by the house of Sûs´sĭstinnako, who asks him: “How are my children above, how many have died to-day, and how many have been born to-day?” He lingers with him only long enough to answer his questions. He then passes on to his house in the east.

Sûs´sĭstinnako placed a huge reed upon the mesa top and said: “My people will pass up through this to the world above.” Ût´sĕt led the way, carrying a sack containing many of the star people; she was followed by all the theurgists, who carried their precious articles in sacred blankets, on their backs; then followed the laity and all animals, snakes and birds; the turkey was far behind, and the foam of the waters rose and reached the tip ends of his feathers, and to this day they bear the mark of the waters. Upon reaching the top of the reed, the solid earth barred their exit, and Ût´sĕt called ᵗSi´ka (the locust), saying, “Man, come here.” The locust hastened to her, and she told him that the earth prevented their exodus. “You know best how to pass through the earth; go and make a door for us.” “Very well, mother,” he replied, “I will, and I think I can make a way.” He began working with his feet, and after a time he passed through the37 earth, entering another world. As soon as he saw the world, he returned to Ût´sĕt saying, “It is good above.” Ût´sĕt then called the Tuo´ pi (badger), and said to him, “Make a door for us; the ᵗSi´ka has made one, but it is very small.” “Very well, mother; I will,” replied the badger; and after much work he passed into the world above, and returning said, “Mother, I have opened the way.” Ût´sĕt is appealed to, to the present time, as father and mother, for she acts directly for Sûs´sĭstinnako, the creator. The badger said, “Mother, father, the world above is good.” Ût´sĕt then called the deer, saying to him, “You go first, and if you pass through all right, if you can get your head through, others may pass.” The deer after ascending returned saying, “Father, it is all right; I passed without trouble.” She then called the elk, and told him if he could get his head through the door, all could pass. He returned, saying, “Father, it is good; I passed without trouble.” She then had the buffalo try and he returned, saying, “Father, mother, the door is good; I passed without trouble.”

Ût´sĕt then called the I-shits (Scarabæus) and gave him the sack of stars, telling him to pass out first with the sack. The little animal did not know what the sack contained, but he grew very tired carrying it, and he wondered what could be in the sack. After entering the new world he was very tired, and laying the sack down he thought he would peep into it and see its contents. He cut only a tiny hole, but immediately the stars began flying out and filling the heavens everywhere. The little animal was too tired to return to Ût´sĕt, who, however, soon joined him, followed by all her people, who came in the order above mentioned. After the turkey passed out the door was firmly closed with a great rock so that the waters below could not follow them. When Ût´sĕt looked for her sack she was astonished to find it nearly empty and she could not tell where the contents had gone; the little animal sat by, very scared, and sad, and Ût´sĕt was angry with him and said, “You are very bad and disobedient and from this time forth you shall be blind,” (and this is the reason the scarabæus has no eyes, so the old ones say). The little fellow, however, had saved a few of the stars by grabbing the sack and holding it fast; these Ût´sĕt distributed in the heavens. In one group she placed seven stars (the great bear), in another three (part of Orion,) into another group she placed the Pleiades, and throwing the others far off into the heavens, exclaimed, “All is well!”

The cloud, lightning, thunder, and rainbow peoples followed the Sia into the upper world, making their homes in springs similar to those they had occupied in the lower world; these springs are also at the cardinal points, zenith and nadir, and are in the hearts of mountains with trees upon their summits. All of the people of Tínia, however, did not leave the lower world; only a portion were sent by Sûs´sĭstinnako to labor for the people of the upper world. The cloud people are so numerous that, though the demands of the people of the earth are great,38 there are always many passing about over Tínia for pleasure; these people ride on wheels, small wheels being used by the children and larger ones by the elders. In speaking of these wheels the Sia add: “The Americans have stolen the secret of the wheels (referring to bicycles) from the cloud people.”

The cloud people are careful to keep behind their masks, which assume different forms according to the number of people and the work being done; for instance, Hĕn´nati are white floating clouds behind which the people pass about for pleasure. He´äsh are clouds like the plains, and behind these, the cloud people are laboring to water the earth. The water is brought from the springs at the base of the mountains in gourd jugs and vases, by the men, women, and children, who ascend from these springs to the base of the tree and thence through the heart or trunk to the top of the tree which reaches to Ti´nia; they then pass on to the designated point to be sprinkled. Though the lightning, thunder and rainbow peoples of the six cardinal points[5] have each their priestly rulers and theurgists of their cult societies, these are subordinate to the priest of the cloud people, the cloud people of each cardinal point having their separate religious and civil organizations. Again these rulers are subordinate to Ho´chänni, arch ruler of the cloud people of the world, the cloud people hold ceremonials similar to the Sia; and the figures of the slat altars of the Sia are supposed to be arranged just as the cloud people sit in their ceremonies, the figures of the altars representing members of the cult societies of the cloud and lightning peoples. The Sia in performing their rites assume relatively similar positions back of the altars.

When a priest of the cloud people wishes assistance from the thunder and lightning peoples he commands their ti´ämonis to notify the theurgists to see that the labor is performed, he placing his cloud people under the direction of certain of his theurgists, keeping a general supervision himself over all. The people of Ti´nia are compensated by those of Ha´arts for their services. These offerings are placed at shrines, of which there are many, no longer left in view but buried from sight. Cigarettes are made of delicate reeds and filled with down from humming birds and others, minute quantities of precious beads and corn pollen, and are offered to the priestly rulers and theurgists of Ti´nia.

The lightning people shoot their arrows to make it rain the harder, the smaller flashes coming from the bows of the children. The thunder people have human forms, with wings of knives, and by flapping these wings they make a great noise, thus frightening the cloud and lightning peoples into working the harder. The rainbow people were created to work in Ti´nia to make it more beautiful for the people of Ha´arts to look upon; not only the elders making the beautiful bows, 39but the children assisting in this work. The Sia have no idea how or of what the bows are made. They do, however, know that the war heroes traveled upon these bows.

The Sia entered this world in the far north, and the opening through which they emerged is known as Shí-pa-po. They gathered into camps, for they had no houses, but they soon moved on a short distance and built a village. Their only food was seeds of certain grasses, and Ût´sĕt desiring that her children should have other food made fields north, west, south, and east of the village and planted bits of her heart, and corn was evolved (though Ût´sĕt had always known the name of corn, corn itself was not known until it originated in these fields), and Ût´sĕt declared: “This corn is my heart and it shall be to my people as milk from my breasts.”

After the Sia had remained at this village a year (referring to a time period) they desired to pass on to the center of the earth, but the earth was very moist and Ût´sĕt was puzzled to know how to harden it.

She commanded the presence of the cougar, and asked him if he had any medicine to harden the road that they might pass over it. The cougar replied, “I will try, mother;” but after going a short distance over the road, he sank to his shoulders in the wet earth, and he returned much afraid, and told Ût´sĕt that he could go no farther. She then sent for the bear and asked him what he could do; and he, like the cougar, made an attempt to harden the earth; he had passed but a short distance when he too sank to his shoulders, and being afraid to go farther returned, saying, “I can do nothing.” The badger then made the attempt, with the same result; then the shrew (Sorex) and afterward the wolf, but they also failed. Then Ût´sĕt returned to the lower world and asked Sûs´sĭstinnako what she could do to harden the earth so that her people might travel over it. Sûs´sĭstinnako inquired, “Have you no medicine to make the earth firm? Have you asked the cougar and the bear, the wolf, the badger and the shrew to use their medicines to harden the earth?” And she replied, “I have tried all these.” Then, said Sûs´sĭstinnako, “Others will understand;” and he told Ût´sĕt to have a woman of the Ka´pĭna (spider) society to use her medicine for this purpose. Upon the return of Ût´sĕt to the upper world, she commanded the presence of a female member of this society. Upon the arrival of this woman Ût´sĕt said, “My mother, Sûs´sĭstinnako, tells me the Ka´pĭna society understands the secret of how to make the earth strong.” The woman replied, “I do not know how to make the earth firm.” Three times Ût´sĕt questioned the woman regarding the hardening of the earth, and each time the woman replied, “I do not know.” The fourth time the question was put the woman said, “Well, I guess I know; I will try;” and she called together the members of the society of the Ka´pĭna and said to them, “Our mother, Sûs´sĭstinnako bids us work for her and harden the earth so that the people may pass over40 it.” The woman first made a road of fine cotton which she produced from her body (it will be remembered that the Ka´pĭna society was composed of the spider people), suspending it a few feet above the earth, and told the people they could now move on; but when they saw the road it looked so fragile that they were afraid to trust themselves upon it. Then Ût´sĕt said: “I wish a man and not a woman of the Ka´pĭna to work for me.” A male member of the society then appeared and threw out the serpent (a fetich of latticed wood so put together that it can be expanded and contracted); and when it was extended it reached to the middle of the earth. He first threw it to the south, then to the east, then to the west. The Na´pakatsa (a fetich composed of slender sticks radiating from a center held together by a fine web of cotton; eagle down is attached to the cotton; when opened it is in the form of an umbrella, and when closed it has also the same form minus the handle) was then thrown upon the ground and stamped upon (the original Na´pakatsa was composed of cotton from the spider’s body); it was placed first to the south, then east, west and north. The people being in the far north, the Na´pakatsa was deposited close to their backs.

The earth now being firm so that the people could travel, Ût´sĕt selected for the ti´ämoni who was to take her place with the people and lead them to the center of the earth, a man of the corn clan, saying to him, “I, Ût´sĕt, will soon leave you; I will return to the home whence I came. You will be to my people as myself; you will pass with them over the straight road. I will remain in my house below and will hear all that you say to me. I give to you all my wisdom, my thoughts, my heart, and all. I fill your head with my mind.” She then gave to her newly appointed representative a crooked staff as insignia of his office, saying, “It is as myself; keep it always.” “Thank you, mother,” he replied, and all the people clasped the staff and drew a breath from it. “I give to you all the precious things which I brought to this world [Ût´sĕt having brought these things in a sacred blanket on her back]. Be sure to follow the one straight road for all years and for all time to come. You will be known as Ti´ämoni [meaning the arch-ruler]. I bid you listen to all things good, and work for all things good, and turn from all things bad.” He replied: “It is well, mother; I will do as you say.” She then instructed this ruler to make the Ï´ärriko[6] (Pl. ix) which was to 41represent herself that they might have herself always with them and know her always. Again Ût´sĕt said: “When you wish for anything make hä´chamoni and plant them, and they will bear your messages to your mother in the world below.”

Before Ût´sĕt left this world she selected six Sia women, sending one to the north, one to the west, one to the south, one to the east, one to the zenith, and one to the nadir, to make their homes at these points for all time to come, that they might be near the cloud rulers of the cardinal points and intercede for the people of Ha´arts; and Ût´sĕt enjoined her people to remember to ask these women, in times of need, to appeal to the cloud people for them.

The Sia alone followed the command of Ût´sĕt and took the straight road, while all other pueblos advanced by various routes to the center of the earth. After Ût´sĕt’s departure the Sia traveled some distance and built a village of beautiful white stone, where they lived four years (years referring to time periods). The Sia declare that their stay at the white house was of long duration. Here parents suffered great distress at the hand of the tíämoni, who, objecting to the increase of his people, for a time caused all children to be put to death. The Sia had scarcely recovered from this calamity when a serious difficulty arose between the men and women. Many women sat grinding meal and singing; they had worked hard all day, and at sundown, when the men returned to the houses, the women began abusing them, saying: “You are no good; you do not care to work; you wish to be with women all the time. If you would allow four days to pass between, the women would care more for you.” The men replied: “You women care to be with us all day and all night; if you women could have the men only every four days you would be very unhappy.” The women retorted: “It is you men who would be unhappy if you could be with the women only every four days.”

And the men and women grew very angry with one another. The men cried: “Were it ten days, twenty days, thirty days, we could remain apart from you and not be unhappy.” The women replied: “We think not, but we women would be very contented to remain away from you men for sixty days.” And the men said: “We men would be happy to remain apart from you women for five moons.” The women, growing more excited, cried: “You do not speak the truth; we women would be contented to be separated from you ten moons.” The men retorted: “We men could remain away from you women twenty moons and be very happy.” “You do not speak the truth,” said the women, “for you wish to be with us all the time, day and night.”

Three days they quarreled and on the fourth day the women separated from the men, going on one side of the pueblo, the men and boys gathering on the other side. All the women went into one chí-ta, the men into another. The women had a great talk and the men held a council. The men and women were very angry with one another.

The tíämoni, who presided over the council, said: “I think if you and the women live apart you will each be contented.” And on the following morning he had all the men and male children who were not being nourished by their mothers cross the great river which ran by the village, the women remaining in the village. The men departed at sunrise, and the women were delighted. They said: “We can do all the work; we understand the men’s work and we can work like them.” The men said to each, other: “We can do the things the women did for us.” As they left the village the men called to the women: “We leave you to yourselves, perhaps for one year, perhaps for two, and perhaps longer. For one year you may be happy to be apart from us. Perhaps we will be happy to be separated from you; perhaps not; we can not tell. We men are more amorous than you.”

Some time was required for the men to cross the river, as it was very wide. The tíämoni led the men and remained with them. The women were compelled by the tíämoni to send their male infants over the river as soon as they ceased nourishing them. For ten moons the men and women were very happy. The men hunted a great deal and had much game for food, but the women had no animal food. At the expiration of the ten moons some of the women were sad away from the men. The men grew stout and the women very thin. As the second year passed more of the women wanted the men, but the men were perfectly satisfied away from the women. After three years the women more and more wished for the men, but the men were but slightly desirous of the women. When the fourth year was half gone the women called to the tíämoni, saying: “We want the men to come to us.” The female children had grown up like reeds; they had no flesh on them. The morning after the women begged the tíämoni for the return of the men they recrossed the river to live again with the women, and in four days after their return the women had recovered their flesh.

Children were born to the women while they were separated from the men, and when born they were entirely unlike the Sia, and were a different people. The mothers, seeing their children were not like themselves, did not care for them and drove them from their homes. These unnatural children matured in a short time, becoming the skóyo (giant cannibals). As soon as they were grown they began eating the Sia. They caught the children just as the coyote catches his prey. They made large fires between great rocks, and throwing the children in, roasted them alive, and afterward ate them. When parents went to the woods to look for their lost children, they too were caught by the giants and roasted. No one ever returned to the village to tell the tale. The Sia were not only devoured by the skóyo, but by those animals who quarreled with their people at the time of the rupture between the Sia men and women, the angry animals joining the skóyo in their attacks upon the Sia.

Although the children were destroyed whenever they ventured from43 their homes the vigilance of some of the parents saved the race, and in spite of the numerous deaths the people increased, and they built many houses. Four years (referring to periods of time) the Skóyo and animals captured and ate the Sia whenever they left their villages, but the Sia were not always to suffer this great evil.

The sun father determined to relieve the people of their trouble and so he became the father of twin boys.

Ko´chinako, a virgin (the yellow woman of the north), when journeying to visit the center of the earth, lay down to rest. She was embraced by the Sun, and from this embrace she became pregnant. In four days she gave evident signs of her condition, and in eight days it was still more perceptible, and in twelve days she gave birth to male twins. During her condition of gestation her mother, the spider woman, was very angry, and insisted upon knowing the father of the child, but the daughter could not tell her; and when the mother asked when she became pregnant, she could not reply to the question, and the mother said: “I do not care to see the child when it is born; I wish to be far away.” And as soon as the daughter complained of approaching labor the mother left, but her heart softened toward her child and she soon returned. In four days from the birth of the boys they were able to walk. When twins are born, the first-born is called Kat´saya and the second Kat´che.

Ko´chinako named her first-born Ma´-a-se-we and the second U´-yuuyewĕ. These children grew rapidly in intelligence, but they always remained small in stature. One day they inquired of their mother, “Where is our father?” The mother replied, “He is far away; ask no more questions.” But again they asked, “Where is our father?” And they received the same reply from the mother. The third time they asked, and a fourth time, when the mother said, “Poor children, your father lives far away to the east.” They declared they would go to him, but she insisted they could not; that to reach him they would have to go to the center of a great river. The boys were so earnest in their entreaties to be allowed to visit their father, that the mother finally consented. Their grandmother (the spider woman) made them each a bow and arrows, and the boys started off on their journey, traveling along way. Upon reaching the river they were puzzled to know how to enter their father’s house. While they stood thinking, their grandmother (the spider woman) appeared and said, “I will make a bridge for you.” She spun a web back and forth, but when the bridge was completed the boys feared to cross it; it appeared so frail. Then the grandmother tested the bridge to show them it was safe. They, being now satisfied, crossed the bridge and descended to the center of the river, and there found their father’s house. The wife of their father inquired of the boys, “Who are you, and where did you come from?” “We come to find our father.” The woman then asked, “Who is your father?” and they answered, “The Sun is our father;” and the44 wife was angry and said, “You tell an untruth.” She gave them a bowl of food, which was, however, only the scraps left by her children.

In a little while the Sun returned home. His wife was very indignant; “I thought you traveled only for the world, but these children say you are their father.” The Sun replied, “They are my children, because all people are my children under my arm.” This satisfied the wife, even though the children appealed directly to the Sun as father. When he saw the boys were eating scraps, he took the bowl, threw out the contents, and had his wife give them proper food. He then called one of his men who labored for him, and said, “Build me a large fire in the house,” designating a sweat-house, “lined with turkis, and heat it with hot rocks,” the rocks being also turkis. He sent the children into this house and had the door closed upon them. The Sun then ordered water poured upon the hot rocks through an opening in the roof, but the children cooled the sweat-house by spitting out tiny shells from their mouths.

When the Sun ordered the door of the sweat-house opened he was surprised to find the children still alive. He then had them cast into another house, which was very large and filled with elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo; he peeped through an opening in the wall and saw the boys riding on the backs of the elk and deer apparently very happy and contented. He then had them placed in a house filled with bear, cougar, and rattlesnakes, and he peeped in and saw the children riding on the backs of the bear and cougar and they were happy and not afraid, and he said, “Surely they are my children,” and he opened the doors and let them out, and asked, “My children, what do you wish of me?” “Nothing, father,” they replied, “We came only to find our father.” He gave to each of them a bow and arrows, and to each three sticks (the rabbit stick), which he told them not to use until they reached home for if they threw one, intending it only to go a little way it would go very far. When they had proceeded on their journey but a short distance Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ, “Let us try our sticks and see how far they will go;” but U´yuuyewĕ refused, saying, “No; our father told us not to use them until our return home.” Ma´asewe continued to plead with his younger brother, but he was wise and would not yield. Finally Ma´asewe threw one of his, and it was going a great distance off, but he stopped it by throwing shells from his mouth.

The mother and grandmother were delighted to see the boys again, and happy for all to be under one roof, but the boys, particularly Ma´asewe, were soon anxious to travel. They wished to try the bows their father had given them, and after they had been home four days they started on a hunt. The mother said to the boys: “Children, I do not wish you to go far; listen attentively to what I have to say. Away to the east is a lake where many skoyo and their animal companions live and when the sun is over the middle of the world these people go to the lake to get water. They are very bad people and you45 must not go near the lake.” Ma´asewe replied, “Very well, mother; I do not care to go that way and I will look about near home.” But when the boys had gone a little distance Ma´asewe said to his younger brother, “Let us go to the lake that mother talked of.” U´yuuyewĕ replied: “I do not care to go there, because our mother told us not to go that way;” but Ma´asewe importuned his younger brother to go, and U´yuuyewĕ replied, “Very well.” They then followed the road indicated by their mother until the lake was discovered.

It was now about the middle of the day, and Ma´asewe said “There are no people here, none at all; I guess mother told us a story;” but in a little while he saw a great wolf approach the lake; then they saw him enter the lake; he was thirsty, and drank; both boys saw him at the bottom of the lake and they exclaimed: “See! he looks pretty in the bottom of the lake.” Ma´asewe said: “I guess he will drink all the water; see, the water grows less and less.” And when all the water was gone there was no wolf in the bottom of the lake and then the boys discovered the wolf on a low mesa, it having been only his reflection they had seen in the lake. The boys aimed their arrows at him, but they did not hit him and the wolf threw a large stick at them, but they bowed their heads and it passed over them. Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ: “I guess these people are those of whom mother spoke; see,” said he, “this stick is the same as those given us by our father.” The boys carried their rabbit sticks of great size and Ma´asewe aimed one of his at the wolf, who wore a shirt of stone which could be penetrated only at certain points. The wolf again threw a stick, but the boys jumped high from the ground and the stick passed under them. Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ, “Now, younger brother, you try.” U´yuuyewĕ had not used his arrows or sticks up to this time. He replied, “All right,” and throwing one of his sticks he struck the wolf in the side, and the protective shirt was destroyed for the moment. Then Ma´asewe threw a stick, but the shirt of stone again appeared protecting the wolf. U´yuuyewĕ, throwing a second stick killed the wolf. Then Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, the wolf is destroyed; let us return; but we will first secure his heart;” and with a stone knife he cut the wolf down the breast in a straight line, and took out the heart, which he preserved, saying: “Now we will return to our home.”

Upon their reaching home, their mother inquired: “Where have you been, where have you been?” “We have been to the lake,” said the boys. “My boys, you are fooling me.” “No, we are speaking the truth.” “Why did you go there?” Ma´asewe replied, “We wished very much to see the lake.” The mother asked: “Did you not see any Sko´yo?” “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “we saw one; at least we saw a great wolf;” and the mother cried, “Oh, my boys, you are not good boys to go there.” Then Ma´asewe told his mother that they had killed the wolf. At first, she refused to believe him; but when Ma´asewe declared 46he spoke the truth, the mother took the boys to her breast and said: “It is well, my children.” In a short time the boys started out on another tour. Before leaving home, they inquired of their mother where good wood for arrow shafts could be procured. “Far off to the north in a canyon is good wood for shafts, but a bad man sits in the road near by; this path is very narrow, and when one passes by he is kicked into the canyon by this bad man, and killed.” Ma´asewe declared to his mother he did not care to go there, but he was not far from her eyes before he prevailed upon U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him to this canyon, saying: “Let us go where we can find the best wood.”

It required some persuasion from Ma´asewe, as U´yuuyewĕ at first declared he would not disobey his mother. They traveled a long way ere reaching the bad old man, the cougar, but when they saw him they approached very cautiously, and Ma´asewe asked him if he could tell him “where to find good wood for arrow shafts.” “Yes, I know,” replied the cougar; “down there is much,” pointing to the canyon below. Ma´asewe inquired, “How can I reach the canyon?” The cougar said, “Pass by me; this is the best way.” Ma´asewe declared he must not walk before his elders, but the cougar insisted that the boys should pass in front of him. They were, however, determined to pass behind. Finally the cougar said, “All right.” Ma´asewe asked him to rise while they passed, but he only bent a little forward; then Ma´asewe said, “Lean a little farther forward, the path is narrow;” and the cougar bent his body a little more, when Ma´asewe placed his hands on the cougar’s shoulders, pressing him forward, saying, “Oh! the way is so narrow; lean just a little more; see, I can not pass.” U´yuuyewĕ, who was close to Ma´asewe, put both his hands on the cougar’s right shoulder, while his brother placed his on the left, they saying to him, “Just a little farther forward,” and, with their combined effort, they threw him to the canyon below, Ma´asewe crying out, “This is the way you have served others.” The cougar was killed by the fall.

The boys then descended into the canyon and gathered a quantity of wood for their arrow shafts. When their mother saw the wood she cried, “You naughty boys! where have you been?” They replied, “We have killed the cougar.” The mother refused to believe them, but Ma´asewe declared they spoke the truth. She then embraced her children with pride and joy.

Two days the boys were busy making shafts, to which they attached their arrows. Then Ma´asewe desired plumes for the shafts. “Mother,” said he, “do you know where we can find eagle plumes?” “Yes, I know where they are to be found. Away on the brink of a canyon in the west there are many plumes, but there is a very bad man there.” Ma´asewe said, “Well, I do not care to go there. We will look elsewhere for plumes.” But he had scarcely left the house when he urged U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him to the brink of the canyon. “No,” said U´yuuyewĕ, “I do not care to go there. Besides the bad man mother47 spoke of, there are many other bears;” but Ma´asewe finally persuaded U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him.

After a time Ma´asewe cried: “See, there is the house; younger brother, you remain a little way back of me, and when the bear passes by you aim your arrow at him.” Ma´asewe approached the house, and when the bear discovered the boy he started after him. Just as the bear was passing U´yuuyewĕ he shot him through the heart. Ma´asewe drew his knife down the breast of the bear, and took out his heart, cutting it into pieces, preserving the bits. “Now,” said Ma´asewe, “let us hasten and secure the plumes.”

They found many beautiful feathers. Then, returning to the bear, they flayed him, preserving the lower skin of the legs with the claws, separate from the remainder of the skin. They filled the body with grass and tied a rope around the neck and body, and Ma´asewe led the way, holding one end of the rope, he drawing the bear and U´yuuyewĕ holding the other end of the rope to steady the animal. As they approached their home they cried, “Mother, mother, see!” Their mother, hearing the cry, called, “What is it my children?” as she advanced to meet them, but when she discovered the bear she returned quickly to the house, exclaiming: “Let the bear go; do not bring him here; why do you bring the bad bear here?” The boys, following their mother, said, “Mother, the bear is dead.”

The boys remained at home two days completing their arrows. Then Ma´asewe said to his mother, “Mother, we wish to hunt for deer. Our arrows are good and we must have meat.” “That is good, my children, but listen. Away to the south lives an eagle in a high rock. She has two children. The father also lives there, and these parents are very large, and they eat all the little ones they find.” Ma´asewe replied, “We will not go there.” But he was no sooner out of his mother’s sight than he declared they must go to the home of the eagle. After they had proceeded a little way they saw a deer, and Ma´asewe drew his bow and shot him through the heart. They cut the deer down the breast, drew the intestines, and, after cleansing them from blood, the boys wrapped them around their necks, arms, and breast, over their right shoulders, and around their waists. “Now,” said Ma´asewe, “we can approach the house of the eagle.” When the boys drew near the eagles flew to the earth. One eagle, catching Ma´asewe and flying far above the house, dropped him on a sharp stone ledge in front of his house. The stone was sharp, like the blade of a knife, and it broke the intestines of the deer, which protected him from the rock, and the blood fell like rain. Ma´asewe lay still and the eagle thought he was dead. The mate then descended and caught Û´yuuyewĕ and, flying above her house, dropped him also upon the rock. He, too, lay perfectly still, and the eagles thought he was dead. “Now,” said the eagles, “our children will be happy and contented, for they have abundance of meat.” In a little while these birds started off on a long journey.

The young ones, having been informed by their parents that they were well provided with food, which would be found in front of their door when hungry, went out for the meat. Ma´asewe and Û´yuuyewĕ astonished them by speaking to them. They asked, “When will your mother return?” The children replied, “Our mother will return in the forenoon.” “When your mother returns will she come to this house?” “No,” replied the young eagles, “she will go to the one above and come here later.” “When will your father arrive?” “He will come a little later.” “Will he come here?” they asked. “No; he will go to the house above.” Ma´asewe then destroyed the young eagles. After killing them he dropped them to the earth below. Upon the return of the mother she stood upon the rock above, and Ma´asewe aimed his arrow at her and shot her through the heart, and she fell to the earth dead; and later, when the father returned, he met with the same fate.

Now, the boys had destroyed the bad eagles of the world. Then Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, how will we get down from here? The road to the earth is very long,” and, looking up, he said, “The road to the rock above is also very long.” Presently Ma´asewe saw a little Ké-ow-uch, or ground squirrel (Tamias striatus), and he called to him, saying, “My little brother, we can not get down from here. If you will help us we will pay you; we will give you beautiful eagle plumes.”

The squirrel planted a piñon nut directly below the boys, and in a short time—almost immediately—for the squirrel knew much of medicine, a tall tree was the result. “Now,” said the squirrel, “you have a good road. This is all right; see?” And the little animal ran up the tree and then down again, when the boys followed him.

Upon their return home their mother inquired, “Where have you been?” and when they told her they had visited the house of the eagle she said, “You have been very foolish.” At first she disbelieved their statement that they had destroyed the eagles; but they finally convinced her and she embraced her boys with pride. The grandmother was also highly pleased.

The boys remained at home only two days, Ma´asewe being impatient to be gone, and he said to his brother, “Let us go travel again.” The home of the boys was near the center of the earth, Ko´chinako remaining here for a time after their birth. When the mother found they were going to travel and hunt again, she begged of them not to go far, for there were still bad people about, and Ma´asewe promised that they would keep near their home. They had gone but a short distance when they saw a woman (a sko´yo) approaching, carrying a large pack which was secured to her back by strings passing around her arms near the shoulder. Ma´asewe whispered to his brother: “See! there comes a sko´yo.” The boys stood side by side, when she approached and said, “What are you children doing here?” Ma´asewe replied, “We are just looking about; nothing more.” The sko´yo passing her hands over the boys said, “What pretty boys! What pretty children!49 Come with me to my house.” “All right, we will go,” Ma´asewe being the spokesman. “Get into the pack on my back and I will carry you.” When the boys were tucked away the sko´yo started for her home.

After a time she came to a broad, level, grassy country and Ma´asewe called: “Woman! do not go far in this country where there are no trees, for the sun is hot and when there is no shade I get very sick in my head. See, woman,” he continued, “there in the mountains are trees and the best road is there.” The sko´yo called out, “All right,” and started toward the mountains. She came to a point where she must stoop to pass under drooping limbs upon which rested branches, which had fallen from other trees. Ma´asewe whispered to Ûyuuyewĕ, “When she stoops to pass under we will catch hold of the tree and hang there until she is gone.” The boys caught on to the fallen timber which rested across the branches of the tree, and the sko´yo traveled on unconscious of their escape. When she had gone some distance she wondered that she heard not a sound and she called, “Children!” and no answer; and again she called, “Children,” and receiving no answer she cried, “Do not go to sleep,” and she continued to call, “Do not go to sleep.” Hearing not a word from the boys she shook the pack in order to awaken them, as she thought they were sleeping soundly. This bringing no reply she placed the pack upon the ground and to her surprise the boys were not there. “The bad boys! the bad boys!” she cried, as she retraced her steps to look for them. “Where can they be? where can they be?”

When she discovered them hanging from a tree she called, “You bad boys! why are you there?” Ma´asewe said, “No! woman; we are not bad. We only wished to stop here and see this timber; it is very beautiful.” She compelled them to get into the pack and again started off, saying to the children, “You must not go to sleep.” The journey was long ere the house of the sko´yo was reached. She said, “I am glad to be home again,” and she placed the pack on the floor, telling the boys to get out. “My children, I am very tired and hungry. Run out and get me some wood for fire.” Ma´asewe whispered to his younger brother, “Let us go for the wood.”

In a little while the boys returned with loads of wood on their backs. Pointing to a small conical house near by, she said, “Children, carry the wood there,” and the sko´yo built a fire in the house and called the boys to look at it saying, “Children, come here and see the fire; it is good and warm.” Ma´asewe whispered to his younger brother, “What does the woman want?” Upon their approach the sko´yo said, “See! I have made a great fire and it is good and warm; look in;” and as the children passed in front of her she pushed them into the house and closed the door. She wished to cook the boys for her supper, and she smacked her lips with satisfaction in anticipation of the feast in store for her. But she was to be disappointed, as the boys threw shells from their mouths which instantly protected them from the heat.

After closing the door on the boys the woman went into her house and bathed all over in a very large bowl of yucca suds, washing her head first, and taking a seat she said to herself, “All is well. I am most contented and happy.” The boys were also contented. The woman, thinking it was about time her supper was cooked, removed the stone which she had placed in the doorway and secured with plaster. The boys had secreted themselves in one side of the house, where they kept quiet. What she supposed to be their flesh was i´isa (excrement) which the boys had deposited there. The woman removed this with great care and began eating it. (This woman had no husband and lived alone.) She said to herself, “This is delicious food and cooked so well,” and again and again she remarked to herself the delicious flavor of the flesh of the boys. Finally Ma´asewe cried, “You are not eating our flesh but our i´isa,” and she looked around but could see no one. Then U´yuuyewĕ called, “You are eating our i´isa,” and again she listened and looked about, but could see no one. The boys continued to call to her, but it was sometime before she discovered them sitting in the far end of the room. “What bad boys you are,” she cried, “I thought I was eating your flesh.” The woman hastened out of the house and tickling her throat with her finger vomited up the offal.

She again sent the boys for wood, telling them to bring much, and they returned with large loads on their backs, and she sent them a second time and they returned with another quantity. Then she again built a fire in the small house and left it, and the two boys exclaimed, “What a great fire!” and Ma´asewe called to the woman, “Come here and see this fire; see what a hothouse; I guess this time my brother and I will die;” and the woman stooped to look at the fire, and Ma´asewe said to her, “Look away in there. See, we will surely die this time. Look! there is the hottest point!” he standing behind the woman and pointing over her shoulder, the woman bending her head still lower to see the better, said, “Yes; the fire is best off there.” “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “it is very hot there;” and the Sko´yo was filled with interest, and looked intently into the house. The boys, finally, inducing her to stoop very low so that her face was near the doorway, pushed her into the hot bed of coals, and she was burned to death.

The boys rejoiced, and Ma´asewe said, “Now that the woman is dead, let us go to her house.” They found the house very large, with many rooms and doors. In the middle of the floor there was a small circular door which Ma´asewe raised, and looking in, discovered that below it was very dark. Pointing downward, he said, “Though I can not see, I guess this is the most beautiful room. I think I will go below; perhaps we will find many good things.” As soon as he entered the door he disappeared from sight and vanished from hearing. U´yuuyewĕ, receiving no reply to his calls, said to himself, “Ma´asewe has found many beautiful things below, and he will not answer me; I will go and see for myself.” After entering the door, he knew nothing until he51 found himself by the side of his elder brother, and, passing through the doorway, the boys tumbled over and over into a lower world.

When Ma´asewe reached this new world he was unconscious from the fall, but after a time he revived sufficiently to sit up, when he beheld U´yuuyewĕ tumbling down, and he fell by the side of Ma´asewe, who was almost dead, and Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, why did you follow me?” After a while U´yuuyewĕ was able to sit up and Ma´asewe remarked: “Younger brother, I think we are in another world. I do not know where we are, and I do not know what hour it is. I guess it is about the middle of the day. What do you think?” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “You know best, elder brother; whatever you think is right,” and Ma´asewe said, “All right. Let us go now over the road to the house where the sun enters in the evening, for I think this is the world where our father, the sun, returns at night.”

A little after the middle of the day Ma´asewe was walking ahead of U´yuuyewĕ, who was following close behind, and he said to his younger brother as he listened to some noise, “I believe we are coming to a village.” When they drew a little nearer they heard a drum, and supposed a feast was going on in the plaza, and in a little while they came in sight of the village and saw that there was a great feast there. All the people were gathered in the plaza. The chi´ta was a little way from the village and there was no one in it, as the boys discovered when they approached it, and they ascended the ladder. Ma´asewe said, “This is the chi´ta. Let us enter.” The mode of entering shows this chi´ta to have been built above ground. Upon invading the chi´ta they found it very large and very pretty, and there were many fine bows and arrows hanging on the walls. They took the bows and examining them said to one another, “What fine bows and arrows! They are all fine. Look,” and they were eager to possess them. Ma´asewe proposed that they should each take a bow and arrows and hurry away, saying: “All the people are in the plaza looking at the dance, and no one will see us;” and they hastened from the chi´ta with their treasures. Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, let us return over the road whence we came.”

But a short time elapsed when a man had occasion to visit the chi´ta, and he at once discovered footprints, and entering, found that bows and arrows had been stolen; hurrying to the plaza he informed the people of the theft, saying, “Two men have entered the chi´ta. I saw their footprints,” and the people cried out, “Let us follow them,” and ran over the road which the boys had taken. The boys had nearly reached the point where they had lighted when they entered this lower world when the people were close upon them.

The little fellows had to run hard, but they held fast to their bows and arrows, and just as they stepped upon the spot where they had fallen when they descended, their pursuers being close upon them, a whirlwind carried them up and through the door and back into the52 house of the sko´yo. Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, let us hurry to our mother. She must be sad. What do you think she imagines has become of us?” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “I guess she thinks we have been killed.” The boys started for their home. When they were still far from their house Ma´asewe asked, “Younger brother, where do you think these bows and arrows were made?” Holding them up before his eyes as he spoke, he said, “I think they are very fine.” U´yuuyewĕ remarked, “Yes, they are fine.”

Ma´asewe then shot one of the arrows a great distance and it made much noise, and it was very beautiful and red. U´yuuyewĕ also shot one of his. “Younger brother,” said Ma´asewe, “these are fine arrows, but they have gone a great way.” When they were near their mother’s house, they again used their bows and were so delighted with the light made by the arrows that each shot another and another. The mother and grandmother, hearing the noise, ran out of their house, and became much alarmed when they looked to Ti´nia and saw the flashes of light and then they both fell as dead. Previous to this time the lightning arrows were not known on this earth, as the lightning people had not, to the present time, let any of their arrows fall to the earth. When the mother was restored she was very angry, and inquired of the boys where they had found such arrows, and why they had brought them home. “Oh, mother,” cried the boys, “they are so beautiful, and we like them very much.”

The boys remained at home three days, and on the fourth day they saw many he’[ä]sh (clouds, like the plains) coming and bringing the arrows the boys had shot toward Ti´nia, and when the cloud people were over the house of the boys they began watering the earth; it rained very hard, and presently the arrows began falling. Ma´asewe cried with delight, “See, younger brother, the lightning people have brought our arrows back to us, let us go and gather them.” The cloud people worked two days sending rain and then returned to their home.

Ma´asewe said to his mother, “We will go now and pass about the country.” She begged of them not to go any great distance. “In the west,” said she, “there is a very bad antelope. He will eat you.” Ma´asewe promised the mother that they would not go far, but when at a short distance from home he said to his younger brother, “Why does not mother wish us to go there?” pointing to the west. “Let us go.” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “No, mother does not wish it.” He was finally persuaded by Ma´asewe, and when near the house of the antelope the boys discovered him. There was neither grass nor vegetation, but only a sandy plain without trees or stones. “I guess he is one of the people who, mother said, would eat us.” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “I guess so.” Then Ma´asewe said, “Let us go a little nearer, younger brother.” “You know what is best,” replied U´yuuyewĕ, “I will do whatever you say, but I think that if you go nearer he will run off.” They counciled for a time and while they were talking the little Chi´na (mole) came up53 out of his house and said, “Boys, come down into my house.” “No,” said they, “we wish to kill the antelope,” and Ma´asewe added, “I think you know all about him.” “Yes,” said the mole, “I have been near him and passed around him.” Then Ma´asewe requested him to go into his house and prepare a road for them that the antelope might not discover their approach. And the mole made an underground road to the point where the antelope stood (the antelope facing west) and bored a wee hole in the earth over this tunnel, and peeping through he looked directly upon the heart of the antelope; he could see its pulsations. “Ah, that is good, I think,” he exclaimed, and returning, he hastened to inform the boys. “Now, all is well,” said the mole; “you can enter my house and approach the antelope.” When they reached the tiny opening in the earth Ma´asewe looked up and said, “See, younger brother, there is the heart of the antelope directly above us; I will shoot first;” and pointing his arrow to the heart of the antelope and drawing his bow strongly he pierced the heart, the shaft being buried almost to its end in the body. “We have killed the antelope,” cried Ma´asewe, “now let us return quickly over the underground road.” While the boys were still in this tunnel, the antelope, who was not killed immediately by the shot, was mad with rage and he ran first to the west to look for his enemy, but he could see no one; then he ran to the south and found no one; then he turned to the east with the same result, and then to the north and saw no one, and he returned to the spot where he had been shot, and looking to the earth discovered the diminutive opening. “Ah,” said he, “I think there is some one below who tried to kill me.” By this time the boys were quite a distance from the hole through which the arrow had passed. The antelope thrust his left horn into the opening and tore up the earth as he ran along above the tunnel. It was like inserting a knife under a piece of hide; but he had advanced only a short distance when he fell dead. The youths then came up from the house of the mole and cried out, “See! the antelope is dead.”

Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother! let us go and get the flesh of the antelope.” U´yuuyewĕ remarked, “perhaps he is not yet dead.” The mole said, “you boys wait here; I will go and see if he still lives,” and after examining and passing around him, he found that the body was quite cold, and returning to the boys said, “Yes, boys, the antelope is dead.” “Perhaps you do not speak the truth,” said Ma´asewe, but the mole repeated “The antelope is dead.” Ma´asewe insisted, however, that the mole should again examine him and the little animal made a second visit. This time he dipped his hands into the heart’s blood of the animal and rubbed it all over his face, head, body, arms, and legs, for Ma´asewe had accused him of lying and he wished this time to carry proof of the death of the antelope; and returning to the boys he cried, “See, boys, I am covered with the blood, and I did not lie.” Then Ma´asewe proposed that the three should go together; and when they54 reached the antelope, Ma´asewe cut the breast with his stone knife, passing the knife from the throat downwards. The boys then flayed the antelope; Ma´asewe cut the heart and the flesh into bits, throwing the pieces to the north, west, south, and east, declaring that hereafter the antelope should not be an enemy to his people, saying, “His flesh shall furnish food for my people.” Addressing the antelope he commanded, “From this time forth you will eat only vegetation and not flesh, for my people are to have your flesh for food.” He then said to the mole, “The intestines of the antelope will be food for you,” and the mole was much pleased, and promptly replied, “Thank you; thank you, boys.”

The boys now returned to their home and their mother, who, on meeting them, inquired, “Where have you been? You have been gone a long time; I thought you were dead; where have you been?” Ma´asewe answered, “We have been to the house of the antelope who eats people.” The mother said, “You are very disobedient boys.” Ma´asewe continued, “We have killed the antelope, and now all the giants who devoured our people are destroyed, and all the people of the villages will be happy, and the times will be good.”

After Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ had destroyed the giant enemies of the world the people were happy and were not afraid to travel about; even the little children could go anywhere over the earth, and there was continual feasting and rejoicing among all the villages.

The Oraibi held a great feast (at that time the Oraibi did not live in their present pueblo); Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ desired to attend the feast, and telling their mother of their wish, she consented to their going. When they were near the village of the Oraibi they discovered the home of the bee, and Ma´asewe said, “See, brother, the house of the bee; let us go in; I guess there is much honey.” They found a large comb full of honey, and Ma´asewe proposed to his brother that they cover their whole bodies with the honey, so that the Oraibi would not know them and would take them for poor, dirty boys; “for, as we now are, all the world knows us, and to-day let us be unknown.” “All right!” said U´yuuyewĕ, and they smeared themselves with honey. “Now,” said the boys, “we are ready for the feast. It will be good, for the Oraibi are very good people.” Upon visiting the plaza they found a large gathering, and the housetops were crowded with those looking at the dance. The boys, who approached the plaza from a narrow street in the village, stood for a time at the entrance. Ma´asewe remarked, “I guess all the people are looking at us and thinking we are very poor boys; see how they pass back and forth and do not speak to us;” but after awhile he said, “We are a little hungry; let us walk around and see where we can find something to eat.” They looked in all the houses facing upon the plaza and saw feasting within, but no one invited them to enter and eat, and though they inspected every house in the village, they were invited into but one. At this house the woman said, “Boys, come in and eat; I guess you are hungry.”55 After the repast they thanked her, saying, “It was very good.” Then Ma´asewe said, “You, woman, and you, man,” addressing her husband, “you and all your family are good. We have eaten at your house; we give you many thanks; and now listen to what I have to say. I wish you and all of your children to go off a distance to another house; to a house which stands alone; the round house off from the village. All of you stay there for awhile.” The boys then left. After they had gone the woman drank from the bowl which they had used, and, smacking her lips, said to her husband, “There is something very sweet in this bowl.” Then all the children drank from it, and they found the water sweet, and the woman said, “Let us do the will of these boys; let us go to the house;” and, the husband consenting, they, with their children, went to the round house and remained for a time.

Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ lingered near the village, and the people were dancing in the plaza and feasting in their houses, when suddenly they were all transformed into stone. Those who were dancing, and those who sat feasting, and mothers nourishing infants, all were alike petrified; and the beings, leaving these bodies, immediately ascended, and at once became the piñonero (Canada jay). The boys, returning to their home, said, “Mother, we wish food; we are hungry.” Their mother inquired, “Why are you hungry; did you not get enough at the feast?” “No; we are very hungry and wish something to eat.” The mother again asked if it was not a good feast. “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “but we are hungry.” The mother, suspecting something wrong, remarked, “I am afraid you have been bad boys; I fear you destroyed that village before you left.” Ma´asewe answered “No.” Four times the mother expressed her fears of their having destroyed the village. Ma´asewe then confessed, “Yes; we did destroy the village. When we went to the feast at Oraibi we were all day with hungry stomachs, and we were not asked to eat anywhere except in one house.” And when the mother heard this she was angry, and Ma´asewe continued, “And this is the reason that I destroyed the villlage[P1: Printer’s error],” and the mother cried, “It is good! I am glad you destroyed the people, for they were mean and bad.”

When the boys had been home but two days their hearts told them that there was to be a great dance of the Ka´ᵗsuna at a village located at a ruin some 18 miles north of the present pueblo of Sia. The Ti´ämoni of this village had, through his officials, invited all the people of all the villages near and far to come to the great dance. Ma´asewe said to his mother and grandmother (the spider woman), “We are going to the village to see the dance of the Ka´ᵗsuna.” They replied, “We do not care much to have you go, because you, Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ, are both disobedient boys. When you go off to the villages you do bad things. At Oraibi you converted the people into stone, and perhaps you will behave at this village as you did at Oraibi.” Ma´asewe replied, “No, mother, no! We go only to see the Ka´ᵗsuna, and we wish to go, for we know it is to be a great dance; we wish very56 much to see it, and will not do as we did at Oraibi.” Finally, the mother and grandmother said, “If you are satisfied to go and behave like good boys we will consent.” It was a long way off, and the boys carried their bows and arrows that their father, the sun, had given them. They had proceeded but a short distance from their home, when the sun told them each to get on an arrow, and the father drew his bow, shooting both arrows simultaneously, the arrows striking the earth near where the dance was to occur. The boys alighted from their arrows and walked to the village. Every one wondered how they could have reached the village in so short a time. The boys stopped at the door of a house and, looking in, saw many people eating. They stood there awhile but were not asked in, and they passed on from door to door, as they had done at Oraibi, and no one invited them to eat. It was a very large village, and the boys walked about all day, and they were very angry. Discovering a house a little apart from the village, Ma´asewe said, “Let us go there,” pointing to the house; “perhaps there we may get food,” and upon reaching the door they were greeted by the man, woman, and children of the house, and were invited to eat. The boys were, as before, disguised with the honey spread over their bodies. After the meal Ma´asewe, addressing the man and woman, said: “You and your children are the first and only ones to invite us to enter a house and eat, and we are happy, and we give you thanks. We have been in this village all day and, until now, have had nothing to eat. I guess the people do not care to have us eat with them. Why did your ti´ämoni invite people from all villages to come here? He was certainly not pleased to see us. You (addressing the man and woman) and your children must leave this village and go a little way off. It will be well for you to do so.”

And this family had no sooner obeyed the commands of the boys than the people of the village were converted into stone, just as they were passing about, the Ka´ᵗsuna as they stood in line of the dance, some of them with their hands raised. It was never known what became of the beings of the Ka´ᵗsuna. Ma´asewe then said: “Younger brother, now what do you think?” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “I do not think at all; you know.” “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “and I think perhaps I will not return to my house, the house of my mother and grandmother. I think we will not return there; we have converted the people of two villages into stone, and I guess our mother will be very unhappy.” And again Ma´asewe said: “What do you think?” and U´yuuyewĕ replied, “I do not think at all; you, Ma´asewe, you think well.” Then Ma´asewe said, “All right; I think now I should like to go to see our father.” “Well,” said U´yuuyewĕ, “let us go to him.”

There was a great rainbow (Kash´-ti-arts) in ti´nia; the feet of the bow were on the earth and the head touched the heavens. “Let us be off,” said the boys. They stepped upon the rainbow, and in a short space of time the boys reached their father, the sun, who was in mid-heavens. The bow traveled fast. The sun saw the boys approaching57 on the bow and knew them to be his children. He always kept watch over them, and when they drew near the father said, “My children, I am very happy to see you. You have destroyed all the giants of the earth who ate my people, and I am contented that they are no more; and it was well you converted the people of the two villages into stone. They were not good people.” Then Ma´asewe said: “Father, listen to me while I speak. We wish you to tell us where to go.” “Yes,” said the father, “I will; I know where it is best for you to make your home. Now, all the people of the earth are good and will be good from this time forth (referring to the destruction of the Sia by the cannibals). I think it will be well for you to make your home there high above the earth,” pointing to the Sandia mountain, “and not return to the people of the earth.” “All right, my father,” replied Ma´asewe; “we are contented and happy to do as you say.”

Before leaving their people Ma´asewe organized the cult societies of the upper world. These tiny heroes then made their home in the Sandia mountain, where they have since remained, traveling, as before, on the rainbow.

The diminutive footprints of these boys are to be seen at the entrance of their house (the crater of the mountain) by the good of heart, but such privilege is afforded only to the ti´ämoni and certain theurgists, they alone having perfect hearts; and they claim that on looking through the door down into the house they have seen melons, corn, and other things which had been freshly gathered.

After the expiration of four years the ti´ämoni desired to travel on toward the center of the earth, but before they had gone far they found, to their dismay, that the waters began to rise as in the lower world, and the whole earth became one vast river. The waters reached nearly to the edge of the mesa, which they ascended for safety. The ti´ämoni made many offerings of plumes and other precious articles to propitiate the flood, but this did not stay the angry waters, and so he dressed a youth and maiden in their best blankets, and adorned them with many precious beeds and cast them from the mesa top; and immediately the waters began to recede. When the earth was again visible it was very soft, so that when the animals went from the mesa they would sink to their shoulders. The earth was angry. The ti´ämoni called the Ka´pĭna Society together and said, “I think you know how to make the earth solid, so we can pass over it,” and the theurgist of that order replied, “I think I know.” The same means was used as on the previous occasion to harden the earth. The theurgist of the Ka´pĭna returning said, “Father, I have been working all over the earth and it is now hardened.” “That is well,” said the ti´ämoni, “I am content. In four days we will travel toward the center of the earth.”

During the journey of the Sia from the white-house in the north they built many villages. Those villages were close together, as the Sia did not wish to travel far at any one time. Finally, having concluded they had about reached the center of the earth, they determined to build a58 permanent home. The ti´ämoni, desiring that it should be an exact model of their house of white stone in the north, held a council, that he might gain information regarding the construction, etc., of the white village. “I wish,” said the ti´ämoni, “to build a village here, after our white-house of the north, but I can not remember clearly the construction of the house,” and no one could be found in the group to give a detailed account of the plan. The council was held during the night, and the ti´ämoni said, “To-morrow I shall have some one return to the white-house, and carefully examine it. I think the Si´sika (swallow) is a good man; he has a good head; and I think I will send him to the white-house,” and calling the Si´sika he said: “Listen attentively; I wish you to go and study the structure of the white-house in the north; learn all about it, and bring me all the details of the buildings; how one house joins another.” The Si´sika replied, “Very well, father; I will go early in the morning.” Though the distance was great, the Si´sika visited the white-house, and returned to the ti´ämoni a little after the sun had eaten (noon). “Father,” said the Si´sika, “I have examined the white-house in the north carefully, flying all over it and about it. I examined it well and can tell you all about it.” The ti´ämoni was pleased, for he had thought much concerning the white house, which was very beautiful.

He at once ordered all hands to work, great labor being required in the construction of the village after the plan laid down by the Si´sika. Upon the completion of this village, the ti´ämoni named it Kóasaia. It is located at the ruin some 2½ miles north of the present site of Sia. (Fig. 15.) It is an accurate copy of a plan drawn by the theurgist who first related the cosmogony to the writer.

The theurgist explained that the cougar could not leave her post at the white stone village of the north; therefore, the lynx was selected as her representative at this village. And no such opening as shown in d existed in the duplicated village, as the doorway of the north wind was ever in the north village. And the ti´ämoni, with all his people, entered the large chita and held services of thanksgiving. Great was the rejoicing upon the completion of the village, and the people planted corn and soon had fine fields.

The Sia occupied this village at the time of their visit from Po´shaiyänne, the quasi messiah, after he had attained his greatness, and when he made a tour of the pueblos before going into Mexico.

Po´shaiyänne was born of a virgin at the pueblo of Pecos, New Mexico, who became pregnant from eating two piñon nuts. The writer learned through Dr. Shields, of Archuleta, New Mexico, that the Jemez Indians have a similar legend. When want and starvation drove the Pecos Indians from their pueblo they sought refuge with the Jemez. Philologists claim that the languages of the Pecos and Jemez belong to the same stock. The woman was very much chagrined at the birth of her child, and when he was very young she cast him off and closed her doors upon him. He obtained food and shelter as best he could; of clothing he had none but the rags cast off by others. While still a little boy he would follow the ti´ämoni and theurgists into the chita and sit apart by the ladder, and listen to their wise talk, and when they wished a light for their cigarettes Po´shaiyänne would pass a brand from one to another. But no one ever spoke to him or thanked him, but he continued to follow the wise men into the chita and to light their cigarettes. Even when he reached years when other youths were invited to sit with the ti´ämoni and theurgists and learn of them, he was never spoken to or invited to leave his seat by the entrance.

Upon arriving at the state of manhood he, as usual, sat in the chita and passed the light to those present. Great was the surprise when it was discovered that a string of the rarest turkis encircled his right wrist. After he had lighted each cigarette and had returned to his seat by the entrance, the ti´ämoni called one of his men to him and said, “What is it I see upon the wrist of the boy Po´shaiyänne; it looks like the richest turkis, but surely it can not be. Go and examine it.” The man did as he was bid, and, returning, told the ti´ämoni that it was indeed as he had supposed. The ti´ämoni requested the man to say to the youth that he wished to know where he obtained the turkis and that he desired to buy the bracelet of him. When the man repeated the message, Po´shaiyänne said, “I can not tell him how it came upon my wrist, and I do not wish to sell it.” The reply being delivered to the ti´ämoni, he said to his messenger, “Return to the youth and tell him I have a fine house in the north. It and all its contents shall be his in exchange for the bracelet.” The people present, hearing the words of the ti´ämoni, regretted that he offered his house and all therein60 for the bracelet, but they did not say anything as they thought he knew best. The message being delivered to Po´shaiyänne, he said, “Very well, I will give the bracelet for the house and all it contains.” The ti´ämoni then called Po´shaiyänne to him and examined the bracelet, and his heart was glad because he was to have the jewels. He then begged Po´shaiyänne to be seated, saying, “We will play the game Wash´kasi.”[7]

In playing the favorite game of Wash´kasi (Fig. 16), forty pebbles form a square, ten pebbles on a side, with a flat stone in the center of the square. Four flat sticks, painted black on one side and unpainted on the other, are held vertically and dropped upon the stone. The ti´ämoni threw first. Two black and two unpainted sides faced up. Two of the painted sides being up entitled the player to move two stones to the right. Po´shaiyänne then threw, turning up the four painted sides. This entitled him to move ten to the left. The ti´ämoni threw and three painted sides faced up. This entitled him to move three stones to the right. Again Po´shaiyänne threw and all the colored sides faced up, entitling him to move ten more. The next throw of the ti´ämoni showed two colored sides and he moved two more. Po´shaiyänne threw again, all the colored sides being up; then he moved ten. The ti´ämoni then threw and all four unpainted sides turned up; this entitled him to move six. Po´shaiyänne threw and again all the painted sides were up, entitling him to move ten, which brought him to the starting point, and won him the game.

The following morning, after the ti´ämoni had eaten, they went into the chita as usual; Po´shaiyänne, following, took his seat near the entrance, with a blanket wrapped around him. When he approached the ti´ämoni to hold the lighted stick to his cigarette, the ti´ämoni’s astonishment was great to find a second bracelet, of ko-ha-qua,[8] upon the wrist of Po´shaiyänne. Each bead was large and beautiful. The 61ti´ämoni urged Po´shaiyänne not to return to his seat by the ladder, but to sit with them; but he declined, and then a messenger was sent to examine the bracelet, and the man’s report excited a great desire in the ti´ämoni to secure to himself this second bracelet, and his house in the west, with all that it contained, was offered in exchange for the bracelet. This house was even finer than the one in the north. Po´shaiyänne replied that if the ti´ämoni wished the bracelet, he would exchange it for the house in the west. Then he was invited to be seated near the ti´ämoni, who placed between them a large bowl containing six 2-inch cubes, which were highly polished and painted on one side. The ti´ämoni said to Po´shaiyänne, “Hold the bowl with each hand, and toss up the six cubes. When three painted sides are up the game is won; with only two painted sides up the game is lost. Six painted sides up is equivalent to a march in euchre.” Po´shaiyänne replied, “You first, not I. You are the ti´ämoni; I am no one.” “No,” said the ti´ämoni, “you play first;” but Po´shaiyänne refused, and the ti´ämoni tossed up the blocks. Only two painted sides were up; Po´shaiyänne, then taking the bowl, tossed the blocks, and all the painted sides turned up. Again the ti´ämoni tried his hand, and three painted sides faced up; then Po´shaiyänne threw and the six painted sides were up. The ti´ämoni again threw, turning up two painted sides only; then Po´shaiyänne threw, with his previous success. The ti´ämoni threw, and again two painted sides were up. Po´shaiyänne threw, and six painted sides faced up as before, and so a second house went to him. The ti´ämoni said, “We will go to our homes and sleep, and return to the chita in the morning, after we have eaten.”

The following morning Po´shaiyänne took his seat at the usual place, but the ti´ämoni said to him: “Come and sit among us; you are now more than an ordinary man, for you have two houses that belonged to the ti´ämoni,” but Po´shaiyänne refused and proceeded to light the stick to pass around for the lighting of the cigarettes. When he extended his hand to touch the stick to the cigarettes it was discovered that he wore a most beautiful bracelet, which was red, but not coral. The ti´ämoni again sent an emissary to negotiate for the bracelet, offering Po´shaiyänne his house in the south in exchange for the red bracelet. Po´shaiyänne consented and again a game was played. Four circular sticks some 8 inches long, with hollow ends, were stood in line and a blanket thrown over them; the ti´ämoni then put a round pebble into the end of one, and removing the blanket asked Po´shaiyänne to choose the stick containing the pebble. “No, my father,” said Po´shaiyänne, “you first. What am I that I should choose before you?” but the ti´ämoni replied, “I placed the stone; I know where it is.” Then Po´shaiyänne selected a stick and raising it the pebble was visible. Po´shaiyänne then threw the blanket over the sticks and placed the stone in one of them, after which the ti´ämoni selected a stick and raised it, but no stone was visible. This was repeated four times. Each62 time the ti´ämoni failed and Po´shaiyänne succeeded, and again the house in the south went to Po´shaiyänne.

The next day when all had assembled in the chita and Po´shaiyänne advanced to light the cigarettes a bracelet of rare black stone beads was noticed on his wrist. This made the ti´ämoni’s heart beat with envy and he determined to have the bracelet though he must part with his house in the east; and he offered it in exchange for the bracelet, and Po´shaiyänne accepted the offer. The ti´ämoni then made four little mounds of sand and throwing a blanket over them placed in one a small round stone. Then raising the blanket he requested Po´shaiyänne to select the mound in which he had placed the stone. Po´shaiyänne said: “My father, what am I that I should choose before you?” The ti´ämoni replied, “I placed the stone and know where it is.” Then Po´shaiyänne selected a mound, and the one of his selection contained the stone. The placing of the stone was repeated four times, and each time the ti´ämoni failed, and Po´shaiyänne was successful; and the hearts of all the people were sad when they knew that this house was gone, but they said nothing, for they believed their ti´ämoni knew best. The ti´ämoni said: “We will now go to our homes and sleep, and on the morrow, when we have eaten, we will assemble here.”

In the morning Po´shaiyänne took his accustomed place, entering after the others. Upon his offering the lighted stick for the cigarettes the people were struck with amazement, for on the wrist of Po´shaiyänne was another bracelet of turkis of marvelous beauty, and when the ti´ämoni discovered it his heart grew hungry for it and he sent one of his men to offer his house of the zenith. Po´shaiyänne replied that he would give the bracelet for the house. This house contained many precious things. The ti´ämoni requested Po´shaiyänne to come and sit by him; and they played the game Wash´kasi and, as before, Po´shaiyänne was successful and the house of the zenith fell to him.

The following morning, when the people had assembled in the chita and as Po´shaiyänne passed the stick to light the cigarettes, the ti´ämoni and all the people saw upon his wrist another bracelet of large white beads. They were not like the heart of a shell, but white and translucent. The ti´ämoni could not resist the wish to have this rare string of beads, and he sent one of his men to offer his house of the nadir for it. When Po´shaiyänne agreed to the exchange, all the people were sad, that the ti´ämoni should part with his house, but they said nothing and the ti´ämoni was too much pleased with the beautiful treasure to be regretful. He had Po´shaiyänne come and sit by him and again play the game with the six blocks in the large bowl. The game was played with success on the part of Po´shaiyänne and he became the owner of the sixth house.

On the following day when all were gathered in the chita the ti´ämoni said to Po´shaiyänne: “Come and sit with us; surely you are now equal with me, and you are rich indeed, for you have all my houses,”63 but he refused, only passing among theurgists and people to offer the lighted stick for the cigarettes. When he extended his hand a bracelet was discovered more beautiful than any of the others. It was pink and the stones were very large. The ti´ämoni upon seeing it cried, “Alas! alas! This is more beautiful and precious than all the others, but all my houses and treasures are gone. I have nothing left but my people; my old men and old women; young men and maidens and little ones.” Addressing the people, he said: “My children, what would you think of your ti´ämoni should he wish to give you to this youth for the beautiful beads?” They replied, “You are our father and ruler; you are wise and know all things that are best for us;” but their hearts were heavy and sad, and the ti´ämoni hesitated, for his heart was touched with the thought of giving up his people whom he loved; but the more he thought of the bracelet the greater became his desire to secure it, and he appealed a second time to his people and they answered: “You know best, our father,” and the people were very sad, but the heart of the ti´ämoni though touched was eager to possess the bracelet. He sent one of his men to offer in exchange for the bracelet all his people, and Po´shaiyänne replied that he would give the bracelet for the people. Then the ti´ämoni called the youth to him, and they repeated the game of the four sticks, hollowed at the ends. Po´shaiyänne was successful, and the ti´ämoni said: “Take all my people; they are yours; my heart is sad to give them up, and you must be a good father to them. Take all the things I have, I am no longer of any consequence.” “No,” said Po´shaiyänne; “I will not, for should I do so I would lose my power over game.” The two remained in the chita and talked for a long time, the ti´ämoni addressing Po´shaiyänne as father and Po´shaiyänne calling the ti´ämoni father.

After a time Po´shaiyänne determined to visit all the pueblos, and then go into Mexico.

He was recognized by the Sia at once upon his arrival, for they had known of him and sung of him, and they looked for him. He entered the chita in company with the ti´ämoni (the one appointed by Ût´sĕt) and the theurgists. It was not until Po´shaiyänne’s visit to the Sia that they possessed the power to capture game. The men were often sent out by the ti´ämoni to look for game, but always returned without it, saying they could see the animals and many tracks but could catch none; and their ruler would reply: “Alas! my children, you go for the deer and return without any;” and thus they hunted all over the earth but without success.

After Po´shaiyänne’s talk with the ti´ämoni, and learning his wish for game, he said: “Father, what have you for me to do?” And the ti´ämoni replied: “My children have looked everywhere for deer, and they can find none; they see many tracks, but they can not catch the deer.” “Well,” replied Po´shaiyänne, “I will go and look for game.” He visited a high mountain in the west, from whose summit he could see all over the earth, and looking to the north, he saw on the top of a64 great mountain a white deer. The deer was passing toward the south, and he said to himself, “Why can not the Sia catch deer?” And looking to the west, he saw a yellow antelope on the summit of a high mountain. He, too, was passing to the south, and Po´shaiyänne said to himself, “Why can they not catch antelope?” And he looked to the south, and saw on the great mountain of the south a sheep, which was also passing to the south, and he looked to the east, and there, on a high peak, he saw the buffalo, who was passing to the south; and then, looking all over the earth, he saw that it was covered with rabbits, rats, and all kinds of small animals, and that the air was filled with birds of every description. Then, returning to the ti´ämoni, he said: “My mother, my father, why do your children say they can catch no game? When I first looked to the mountain of the north I saw the deer, and to the west I saw the antelope, and to the south the mountain sheep, and to the east the buffalo, and the earth and air were filled with animals and birds.” The ti´ämoni inquired how he could see all over the earth. He doubted Po´shaiyänne’s word. Then Po´shaiyänne said: “In four days I will go and catch deer for you.” “Well,” said the ti´ämoni, “when you bring the deer I will believe. Until then I must think, perhaps, you do not speak the truth.”

For three days the men were busy making bows and arrows, and during these days they observed a strict fast and practiced continency. On the fourth morning at sunrise Po´shaiyänne, accompanied by Ma´asewe and Úyuuyewĕ, who came to the earth to greet Po´shaiyänne, and the men of the village, started on the hunt. They ate before leaving the village, and after the meal Po´shaiyänne asked: “Are you all ready for the hunt?” And they replied: “Yes; we are ready.” Po´shaiyänne, Ma´asewe, and Úyuuyewĕ started in advance of the others, and when some distance ahead Po´shaiyänne made a fire and sprinkled meal to the north, the west, the south, and the east, that the deer might come to him over the roads of meal. He then made a circle of meal, leaving an opening through which the game and hunters might pass, and when this was done all of the men of the village formed into a group a short distance from Po´shaiyänne, who then played on his flute, and, holding it upward, he played first to the north, then west, then south, and then east. The deer came over the four roads to him and entered the great circle of meal. Ma´asewe and Úyuuyewĕ called to all the people to come and kill the deer. It was now before the middle of the day. There were many deer in the circle, and as the people approached they said one to another: “Perhaps the deer are large; perhaps they are small.”

(The deer found by the Sia in this world are quite different from those in the lower world. Those in the lower world did not come to this world; they are called sits´tä-ñe, water deer. These deer lived in the water, but they grazed over the mountains. They were very large, with great antlers. The deer in this world are much smaller and have smaller antlers.)

The circle was entered at the southeast, Ma´asewe passing around the circle to the left was followed by half of the people, Úyuuyewĕ passing to the right around the circle, preceded the remainder. As soon as they had all entered Po´shaiyänne closed the opening; he did not go into the circle but stood by the entrance. The deer were gradually gathered into a close group and were then shot with arrows. When all the deer had been killed they were flayed, and the flesh and skins carried to the village. As they passed from the circle Po´shaiyänne said, “Now carry your meat home. Give your largest deer to the ti´ämoni and the smaller ones to the people of your houses.” After the Sia had started for their village Po´shaiyänne destroyed the circle of meal and then returned to the ti´ämoni, who said: “You, indeed, spoke the truth, for my people have brought many deer, and I am much pleased. On the morrow we will kill rabbits.” The ti´ämoni informed the coyote of his wish for the rabbits, and in the morning a large fire was made, and the coyote spoke to the fire, saying: “We desire many rabbits but we do not wish to go far.” He then threw meal to the cardinal points, zenith, and nadir, and prayed that the sun father would cause the small and large rabbits to gather together that they might not have to go a great distance to find them, for as he, the father, wished, so it would be, and Ma´asewe and the coyote sat down while the people gathered around the fire and passed their rabbit sticks through the flames. Then Ma´asewe directed them to start on the hunt. They formed into an extensive circle surrounding the rabbits, and a great number were secured. Some were killed by being struck immediately over their hearts. It was very late when the people returned to the village laden with rabbits.

The ti´ämoni said: “Day after to-morrow we will have a feast.” Po´shaiyänne agreeing, said: “It is well, father.” All the women worked hard for the feast. Half of their number worked for the ti´ämoni and half for Po´shaiyänne. The ti´ämoni going alone to the house of Po´shaiyänne, said: “Listen: to-morrow you will have the great feast at your house.” Po´shaiyänne replied: “No, father; you are the elder, and you must have it at your house.” The ti´ämoni answered: “Very well, my house is good and large; I will have it there.”

In the morning, when the sun was still new, the ti´ämoni had the feast spread—bowls of mush, bread, and meat; and he said to Po´shaiyänne, who was present: “Father, if you have food bring it to my house and we will have our feast together.” Po´shaiyänne replied: “It is well, father;” and, to the astonishment of all, Po´shaiyänne’s food immediately appeared. It was spread on tables;[9] the bowls holding the food being very beautiful, such as had never before been seen. The ti´ämoni told Ma´asewe to bid the people come to the feast; and all, including the most aged men and women and youngest children, were present. Upon entering the house they were surprised with the things

they saw on Po´shaiyänne’s table, and all who could went to his table in preference to sitting before the ti´ämoni’s. Even the water upon Po´shaiyänne’s table was far better than that furnished by the ti´ämoni; and those who drank of this water and ate Po´shaiyänne’s food immediately became changed, their skins becoming whiter than before; but all could not eat from Po´shaiyänne’s board and many had to take the food of the ti´ämoni, and they remained in appearance as before.

After this feast, Po´shaiyänne visited all the pueblos and then passed on to Chihuahua in Mexico. Before Po´shaiyänne left the Sia, he said to them: “I leave you, but another day I will return to you, for this village is mine for all time, and I will return first to this village.” To the ti´ämoni he said: “Father, you are a ti´ämoni, and I also am one; we are as brothers. All the people, the men, the women, and the children are mine, and they are yours; and I will return to them again. Watch for me. I will return;” and he added, “In a short time another people will come; but before that time, such time as you may choose, I wish you to leave this village, for my heart is here and it is not well for another people to come here; therefore depart from this village before they come near.”

Upon entering the plaza in Chihuahua Po´shaiyänne met the great chief, who invited him to his home, where he became acquainted with his daughter. She was very beautiful, and Po´shaiyänne told the chief that he was much pleased with his daughter and wished to make her his wife. The chief replied: “If you desire to marry my daughter and she wishes to marry you, it is well.” Upon the father questioning the daughter the girl replied in the affirmative. Then the father and mother talked much to the daughter and said: “To-morrow you will be married.” The chief sent one of his officials to let it be known to all the people that Po´shaiyänne and his daughter were to be united in marriage in the morning, and many assembled, and there was a great feast in the house of the chief. Many men were pleased with the chief’s daughter, and looked with envy upon Po´shaiyänne; and they talked together of killing him, and finally warriors came to the house of Po´shaiyänne and carried him off to their camp and pierced his heart with a spear, and his enemies were contented, but the wife and her father were sad. The day after Po´shaiyänne’s death he returned to his wife’s home, and when he was seen alive those who had tried to destroy him were not only angry but much alarmed; and again he was captured, and they bound gold and silver to his feet, that after casting him into the lake his body should not rise; but a white fluffy feather of the eagle fell to him, and as he touched the feather the feather rose, and Po´shaiyänne with it, and he lived again, and he still lives, and some time he will come to us. So say the Sia. Po´shaiyänne’s name is held in the greatest reverence; in fact, he is regarded as their culture hero[10], 67and he is appealed to in daily prayers, and the people have no doubt of his return. They say: “He may come to-day, to-morrow, or perhaps not in our lifetime.”

Soon after Po´shaiyänne’s departure from Sia the ti´ämoni decided to leave his present village, though it pained him much to give up his beautiful house. And they moved and built the present pueblo of Sia, which village was very extensive. The ti´ämoni had first a square of stone laid, which is to be seen at the present day, emblematic of the heart of the village (for a heart must be, before a thing can exist). After the building of this village the aged ti´ämoni continued to live many years, and at his death he was buried in the ground, in a reclining position. His head was covered with raw cotton, with an eagle plume attached; his face was painted with corn pollen, and cotton was placed at the soles of his feet and laid over the heart. A bowl of food was deposited in the grave, and many hä´chamoni were planted over the road to the north, the one which is traveled after death. A bowl of food was also placed on the road. All night they sang and prayed in the house of the departed ti´ämoni, and early in the morning all those who sung were bathed in suds of yucca made of cold water.

There are two rudely carved stone animals at the ruined village supposed to have been visited by Po´shaiyänne. These the Sia always speak of as the cougar, but they say, “In reality they are not the cougar, but the lynx, for the cougar remained at the white-house in the north.”

This cosmogony exhibits a chapter of the Sia philosophy, and though this philosophy is fraught with absurdities and contradictions, as is the case with all aboriginal reasoning, it scintillates with poetic conceptions. They continue:

Theirs is not a religion mainly of propitiation, but rather of supplication for favors and payment for the same, and to do the will of and thereby please the beings to whom they pray. It is the paramount occupation of their life; all other desirable things come through its practice. It is the foundation of their moral and social laws. Children are taught from infancy that in order to please the pantheon of their mythical beings they must speak with one tongue as straight as the line of prayer over which these beings pass to enter the images of themselves.

It will be understood from the cosmogony that the Sia did not derive their clan names from animal ancestors, nor do they believe that their people evolved from animals, other than the Sia themselves. The Zuñi hold a similar belief. The Zuñi’s reference to the tortoise and other animals as ancestors is explained in the “Religious Life of the Zuñi Child.”[11]

I am of opinion that closer investigation of the North American Indian 68will reveal that the belief in the descent of a people from beasts, plants, or heavenly bodies is not common, though their mythological heroes were frequently the offspring of the union of some mortal with the sun or other object of reverence. There is no mystery in such unions in the philosophy of the Indian, for, as not only animate but inanimate objects and the elements are endowed with personality, such beings are not only brothers to one another, but hold the same kinship to the Sia, from the fact, according to their philosophy, that all are living beings and, therefore, all are brothers. This is as clearly defined in the Indian mind as our recognition of the African as a brother man.

The spider is an important actor in Sia, Zuñi, and Tusayan mythology. Sia cosmogony tells us the spider was the primus, the creator of all. Sûs´sĭstinnako is referred to as a man, or, more properly, a being possessing all power; and as Sûs´sĭstinnako created first man and then other beings to serve his first creation, these beings, although endowed with attributes superior to man in order to serve him, can hardly be termed gods, but rather agents to execute the will of Sûs´sĭstinnako in serving the people of his first creation.

Sûs´sĭstinnako must be supplicated through the mediator Ûtsĕt, who is present at such times in the fetich I´ärriko. Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna appear for the sun and moon. The war heroes and the warriors of the six mountains of the world, the women of the cardinal points, and animals, insects, and birds holding the secrets of medicine, are present, when invoked, in images of themselves. The Sia can not be said to practice ancestor worship. While the road to Shipapo (entrance to the lower world) is crowded with spirits of peoples returning to the lower world, and spirits of unborn infants coming from the lower world, the Sia do not believe in the return of ancestors when once they have entered Shipapo. While many of the kokko (personated by persons wearing masks) are the immediate ancestors of the Zuñi, the Ka´ᵗsuna of the Sia, also personated by men and women wearing masks, are altogether a distinct creation, and can not be considered to bear any relation to ancestor worship.

The Sia, however, have something as appalling to them as the return of the dead, in their belief in witchcraft, those possessing this craft being able to assume the form of dogs and other beasts; and they are ever on the alert when traveling about on dark nights, especially if the traveler is a man of wealth, as witches are always envious of the financial success of others. They create disease by casting into the body snakes, worms, stones, bits of fabric, etc. Hair must be burned that it may not be found by wizards or witches, who, combining it with other things, would cast it into the person from whose head it was cut, causing illness and perhaps death. There is, however, a panacea for such afflictions in the esoteric power of the theurgists of the secret cult societies. A man was relieved of pain in the chest by a snake being drawn from the body by an eminent theurgist during the stay of the69 writer at Sia. Such is the effect of faith cure in Sia that, though the man was actually suffering from a severe cold, his improvement dated from the hour the snake was supposed to have been extracted.

Ût´sĕt, being directed in all things by Sûs´sĭstinnako, originated the cult societies of the lower world, giving to certain of them the secrets for the healing of the sick.

The societies are mentioned in their line of succession, most of them having been named for the animals of which they were composed.

The first society organized was the Ka´pĭna, which included only the spider people, its ho´-na-ai-te,[12] or theurgist, being Sûs´sĭstinnako himself; and as the members of this society were directly associated with Sûs´sĭstinnako, they knew his medicine secrets.

Then followed the societies of the bear, cougar, badger, wolf, and shrew (Sorex).

The hĭs´tiän[13] (knife) was composed of the cougar and the bear, these two societies being consolidated. Sûs´sĭstinnako finding that the bear was always dissatisfied and inclined to growl and run from the people when they approached, decided to make the cougar first and the bear second, giving as his reason that when the people drew near the cougar he sat still and looked at them; he neither growled nor ran, and the people were not afraid; he commanded their respect, but not their fear, and for this reason Sûs´sĭstinnako united these societies that the bear might be second, and under the direction of the cougar.

The next six societies organized were the snakes, composed of the snakes of the cardinal points, the snake of the north being Ska´towe (Plumed Serpent), the west Ka´spanna, the south Ko´quaira, the east Quĭs´sĕra, the heavens Hu´waka, the earth Ya´ai. The Ska´towe (Serpent of the North) and Ko´quaira (Serpent of the South) having special influence over the cloud people, have their bodies marked with cloud emblems; the Ka´spanna (Serpent of the West) and the Quĭs´sĕra (Serpent of the East) hold esoteric relations with the sun and moon; hence their bodies are painted with the crescent. Hu´waka (Serpent of the Heavens) has a body like crystal, and it is so brilliant that one’s eyes can not rest upon him; he is very closely allied to the sun. The Ya´ai (Serpent of the Earth) has special relations with Ha´arts (the earth). His body is spotted over like the earth, and he passes about over Ha´arts until someone approaches, when he hastens into his house in the earth.

The seven ant societies followed the snakes. The five animal societies, the six snake societies, the first three ant societies, and the 70society of the eagle were given the secrets of the medicine for healing the sick, through the process of sucking, the ant alone receiving the secret of the medicine by brushing; the last four societies of ants were instructed in the songs for rain only. The reason given for this division is that only the first three ants produced irritation or swelling from their bites, the last four being peaceable ants. (Fig. 18.)

The next six societies were those of the birds of the cardinal points, zenith and nadir.—The Ha´-te-e, Bird of the North; Shas´-to, Bird of the West; Ma´-pe-un, Bird of the South; Shu-wa-kai´, Bird of the East; Tiä´mi, Bird of the Heavens (the eagle); Chas´-ka, Bird of the Earth (chaparral cock). While these six societies were instructed in the songs for rain, the eagle alone learned the medicine songs. It will be noticed that only such animals as were regarded as virulent were given the secrets of the medicine for healing the sick. All of the animals of the world were subordinate to the animal societies; all of the snakes of the world were submissive to the six snake societies; all the ants and other insects were subject to the seven ant societies, and all the birds of the world to the six bird societies.

The next society organized was the Ha´kan, fire. Sûs´sĭstinnako, desiring to have fire that their food might be cooked, placed a round flat stone on the floor and attached a small sharpened stone to one end of a slender round stick; he then called together the ho´naaites of the cult societies, and the priestly rulers of the Sia and other Indians, requesting each one in proper succession to produce fire by rubbing the circular stick between the hands upon the round flat stone. As each one attempted to make the fire, a blanket was thrown over him and the stone that he might work in perfect seclusion. All failing in their efforts (this work being performed in the daytime) Sûs´sĭstinnako dismissed them. He then passed through three chambers, carrying the fire stone with him, and entering the fourth sat down and thought a long while, and after a time he attempted to make the fire and was successful. Sûs´sĭstinnako then called in Ût´sĕt and her principal officer (a man of the Sia people), and handing her an ignited fire brand of cedar told her to light a fire, and this fire burned four days and nights. Ût´sĕt, obeying the command of Sûs´sĭstinnako, requested her officer to place a ho´naaite of a snake society at the first door, the ho´naaite of the Hĭs´tiän and his vice (the cougar and a bear) at the second and third doors, and to guard the inner door himself, that no one might enter and see the fire. On the fifth day all the people discovered the smoke, which escaped from the chamber, and they wondered what it could be, for as yet they did not know fire. On the sixth morning Sûs´sĭstinnako said to the officer of Ût´sĕt, “I will now organize a fire society and I appoint you the ho´naaite of the society.” On this same morning the ho´naaites of the cult societies and the priestly rulers of the Indians were called to the chamber to see the fire and to understand it. Then the ho´naaite of the fire society carried some of the fire to the house of the ruler of the Sia.

Ko´shairi received directly from the sun valuable medicine for rain, and so the songs of the Ko´shairi are principally invocations for rain to fructify the earth.

Quer´ränna’s office is similar to that of the Ko´shairi, though his dress is different, as he comes from the house of the moon and not the sun. Besides the songs for rain the sun gave him the secret of the medicine, which would not only make ha´arts but women pregnant.

After the Sia, animals and Ka’ᵗsuna entered this world, they being led by the mother Ût´sĕt, the Ka´ᵗsuna were directed by Ût´sĕt to go to the west and there make their homes. Before their departure, however, masks were made to represent them. Ût´sĕt sent Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna to the east, telling the former to make his home near the house of the sun and the latter to make his house a little to the north of the sun’s. It will be remembered that Sûs´sĭstinnako sent the sun to this world before the advent of the Sia. Ko´shairi performs not only the office of courier between the sun and Ka´ᵗsuna, but is also mediator between the Sia and the sun. (See Pl. x.)

Upon the departure of Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna, Ût´sĕt organized two orders bearing their names, to wait upon the personators of the Ka´ᵗsuna whenever they should appear. The representatives of Koshai´ri and Quer´ränna are supposed to be the exact reproductions of the originals. The body of Ko´shairi is painted white and striped in black; that of Quer´ränna is half yellow and half white, dotted with black crescents. Thus we see stripes and particolors as indicative of the harlequin is of prehistoric origin. The hair of Ko´shairi is brought to the front and tied with painted black and white corn husks. The breechcloth is black cotton (Pl. x A). Quer´ränna’s hair is brought forward and tied to stand erect (Pl. x B).

Whenever the Ka´ᵗsuna appear in Sia they are attended by the Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna, they waiting upon the Ka´ᵗsuna, adjusting any of their wearing apparel which becomes disarranged, etc. They also play the fool, their buffoonery causing great merriment among the spectators.

After ridding the world of the destroyers of the people, Ma´asewe said to the ti´ämoni of Sia (the Sia were still living at the white house), “Now that I have killed the bad people of the world it is well to organize societies similar to those instituted by Ût´sĕt in the lower world, and learn from the animals the secrets of medicine.” It must be understood that all the animals were not bad.

The first society originated by Ma´asewe was the Hĭs´tiän or Knife. This society being first, because it was through the power of the knives or arrows given to the boys by the sun father that the enemies were destroyed; Hĭs´tiän, in this case, meaning the knife or arrow of lightning.

The next society originated was that of the cougar, then followed the societies of the bear, the skoyo (giant), the snake, and the ant. The72 ho´naaite of each society was furnished with medicine by the two warriors, this medicine being bits of the hearts of the enemies destroyed; a portion of each heart being given to each ho´naaite.

Ma´asewe then organized the Ope Society (Warriors), designating himself as the ho´naaite[14] of the society and his brother as its vicar. He then appointed six men members of the society, to reside for all time in the six high mountains of the world, that they might look from the six cardinal points and discover bad people, and inform the Sia of an approaching enemy. These six men, in conjunction with Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ, guide the arrows of the Sia when contending with the enemy. It will be remembered it was stated in the “Sia Cosmogony” that Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ went to reside in the interior of the Sandia mountain.

When these societies had been formed, the animal societies assembled at the white house and taught the ho´naaites their medicine songs; previous to this, when the Sia were ill, they received their medicine direct from the animals, the animals officiating and singing. After instructing the Sia in their songs, they told them to make stone images of themselves, that passing over the road of meal they might enter these images; and so the Indians are sure of the presence of the animals. The beings pass over the line of meal, entering the fetiches, where they remain until the close of a ceremonial, and then depart over the line.

The secret of the fire was not brought to this world, and the fire society was originated here in this way. The people grew tired of feeding about on grass, like the deer and other animals, and they consulted together as to how fire might be obtained. It was finally decided by the ti´ämoni that a coyote was the best person to steal the fire from the world below, and he dispatched a messenger for the coyote. Upon making his appearance the ti´ämoni told of the wish of himself and his people for fire, and that he wanted him to return to the world below and bring the fire, and the coyote replied, “It is well, father; I will go.” Upon reaching the first entrance of the house of Sûs´sĭstinnako (it was the middle of the night), the coyote found the snake who guarded the door asleep, and he quickly and quietly slipped by; the cougar who guarded the second door was also asleep, and the bear who guarded the third door was sleeping. Upon reaching the fourth door he found the ho´naaite of the fire asleep, and, slipping through, he entered the room and found Sûs´sĭstinnako also soundly sleeping; he hastened to the 73fire, and, lighting the cedar brand which was attached to his tail, hurried out. Sûs´sĭstinnako awoke, rubbing his eyes, just in time to be conscious that some one was leaving the room. “Who is there?” he cried; “some one has been here,” but before he could arouse those who guarded the entrance the coyote was far on his way to the upper world.

After the organization of the cult societies the ti´ämoni, influenced by Ût´sĕt, commanded the cougar to make his home for all time in the north; the bear was likewise sent to the west, the badger to the south, the wolf to the east, the eagle to the heavens, and the shrew to the earth.

It is only upon acquaintance with the secret cult societies that one may glean something of the Indians’ conception of disease, its cause and cure. It is supposed to be produced almost wholly through one or two agencies—the occult powers of wizards and witches, and the anger of certain animals, often insects. Therefore, though some plant medicines are known to these Indians, their materia medīca may be said to be purely fetichistic; for when anything of a medicinal character is used by the theurgist it must be supplemented with fetich medicine and magical craft.

While there are thirteen secret cult societies with the Zuñi, there are but eight in Sia, some of these being reduced to a membership of two, and in one instance to one. While the Zuñi and Sia each has its society of warriors, the functions of these societies are somewhat different.

The cult societies of the Sia, as well as those of Zuñi, have their altars and sand paintings; but while each Zuñi altar, with its medicines and fetiches, is guarded during ceremonials by two members of the Society of Warriors, this entitling the members of this society to be present at the meetings of all the cult societies, the Sia have no such customs. Their altars and fetiches are not protected by others than the theurgists and vice-theurgists of their respective societies. At the present time, owing to the depleted numbers of the Society of Warriors of the Zuñi, some of their altars have but one guardian.

The Society of Warriors has for its director and vicar, like the Zuñi and the other pueblos, the representatives of the mythologic war heroes, who, though small in stature, are invulnerable. “Their hearts are large, for they have the heart of the sun.” The head or director of a society is termed the elder brother; the vicar, younger brother.

When the cult societies invoke the cloud people to water the earth, the presence of certain anthropomorphic and zoomorphic beings having potent influence over the cloud people is assured by the drawing of a line of meal from the altar to the entrance of the ceremonial chamber,74 over which these beings pass, temporarily abiding in the stone images of themselves which stand before the altar. These beings are exhorted to use their mystic powers with the cloud people to water the mother earth, that she may become pregnant and bear to the people of Ha´arts (the earth) the fruits of her being.

In order to obtain their services the Sia compensate them. The hä´chamoni (notched stick), which is deposited to convey the message, invariably has plumes attached to it, these plume offerings being actual compensation for that which is desired. Other offerings are made, among which are gaming blocks, hoops for the cloud people to ride upon, and cigarettes filled with the down of humming birds, corn pollen, and bits of precious beads. (See Plate xi).

Eagles are kept caged, and turkeys are domesticated for the purpose of obtaining plumes for these offerings.

It is the prerogative of the ti´ämoni to specify the time for the meetings of the cult societies, excepting ceremonials for the healing of the sick by the request of the patient or his friend. These meetings being entirely under the jurisdiction of the theurgist, who does not possess within himself the power of healing, he is simply the agent acting under the influence of those beings who are present in the stone images.

The gala time is the beginning of the new year in December, when the cult societies hold synchronal ceremonials extending through a period of four days and nights, at which time the fetich medicines are prepared; and those possessing real or imaginary disease gather in the chamber of the society of which they are members, when the theurgists and their followers elaborate their practices of mysticism upon their subjects.

The cult societies have two ways of retaining their complement of members. An adult or child joins a society after being restored to health by a theurgist; and a parent may enter a child into a society, or a boy or girl having arrived at years of discretion, may declare a desire to join a society.

In the case of a young child the paternal or maternal parent calls upon the theurgist and, making known his wish, presents him with a handful of shell mixture,[15] saying, “I wish my child to become a member of your society that his mind and heart may be strong.” In the case of an elder boy or girl the clan is first notified, and the applicant then calls upon the theurgist and, presenting him a handful of the shell mixture, makes known his wish.

Most of the societies are divided into two or more orders, the more important order being that in which the members are endowed with the anagogics of medicine, except in the Snake Society, when the snake 75order is essential. One must pass through three degrees before being permitted to handle the snakes. In the case of minors they can not be initiated into the third degree until, in the ho´naaite’s judgment, they are amenable to the rigid rules. A person may belong to two or more of these societies.

Women may be members of the various orders, excepting in the societies of the Snake, Cougar, or Hunters and Warriors. The Snake division of the Snake Society has no female members, and the societies of the Cougar or Hunters and Warriors are composed entirely of men. When one makes known his desire to enter a society he states to the theurgist which division he wishes to join.

The objection to handling the snakes keeps the Snake division of this society limited, though the honor is much greater in belonging to this division. Upon entering the medicine order of any society the new member is presented with the fetich ya´ya by the theurgist, who must practice continency four days previous to preparing the fetich.

The cult societies observe two modes in curing disease: One is by sucking, and the other by brushing the body with straws and eagle plumes. The former mode is practiced when Ka-nat-kai-ya (witches) have caused the malady by casting into the body worms, stones, yarn, etc.; the latter mode is observed when one is afflicted through angry ants or other insects, which are thus drawn to the surface and brushed off.

The medicine ceremonials of the cult societies are quite distinct from their ceremonials for rain.

The only compensation made the theurgist for his practice upon invalids either in the ceremonial chamber or dwelling is the sacred shell mixture. It is quite the reverse with all other Indians with whom the writer is acquainted. The healing of the sick in the ceremonial chamber is with some of the peublos gratuitous, but generous compensation is required when the theurgist visits the house of the invalid.

Continency is observed four days previous to a ceremonial, and an emetic is taken each morning for purification from conjugal relations. On the fourth day the married members bathe (the men going into the river) and have their heads washed in yucca suds. This is for physical purification. The exempting of those who have not been married and those who have lost a spouse seems a strange and unreasonable edict in a community where there is an indiscriminate living together of the people.

The ceremonials here noted occurred after the planting of the grain. Several of the ordinances had been held previous to the arrival of the writer. She collected sufficient data, however, to demonstrate the analogy between the rain ceremonials of the secret cult societies, their songs bearing the one burden—supplication for rain.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE SNAKE SOCIETY.

The morning was spent by the ho´naaite (theurgist) and his vicar in the preparation of hä´chamoni[16] and plume offerings. The hä´chamoni are symbolic of the beings to whom they are offered, the messages or prayers being conveyed through the notches upon the sticks. These symbols frequently have hĕr´rotuma (more slender sticks representing the official staff) bound to them with threads of yucca; Pls. xi and xii show an incomplete set of hä´chamoni before the plume offerings are appended, which the Snake Society deposits when rain is desired; Pl. xiii, specimens of hä´chamoni with plume offerings attached.

About 4 o’clock p.m. the ho´naaite and his younger brother were joined by the third member of the society, when the ho´naaite began the sand painting,[17] the first one being laid immediately before the ä´ᵗchîn (slat altar), which had been erected earlier in the day, and the second in front of the former (Pl. xiv).

Upon the completion of the paintings the ho´naaite deposited several long buckskin sacks upon the floor and the three proceeded to remove such articles as were to be placed before the altar. There were six ya´ya, four of these being the property of the ho´naaite, two having come to him through the Snake Society, and two through the Spider, he being also ho´naaite of the Spider Society, the others belonging to the vice ho´naaite and third member of the Snake Society.

The ya´ya are most carefully preserved, not only on account of their sacred value, but also of their intrinsic worth, as the parrot plumes of which they are partially composed are very costly and difficult to obtain, they being procured from other Indians, who either make journeys into Mexico and trade for these plumes with the Indians of that country, or the Indians on the border secure them and bring them for traffic among their more northern brothers.

The ya´ya are wrapped first with a piece of soft cloth, then with buckskin, and finally with another cloth; slender splints are placed around this outer covering and a long buckskin string secures the packages.

After unwrapping the ya´ya the ho´naaite proceeds to arrange the fetiches. Three of the ya´ya are placed immediately in front of the altar upon a paralellogram of meal, which is always drawn at the base of the altars, and is emblematic of seats for the ya´ya. An image, 8 77inches high, of Ko´chinako (Yellow Woman of the North) stands to the right of the ya´ya, and a wolf of red sandstone, its tail being quite the length of its body, which is 6 inches, is placed to the left of the ya´ya, and by the side of this wolf is a bear of black lava, and next an abalone shell; two cougars of red sandstone, some 12 inches in length, are posted to the right and left of the altar; an antique medicine bowl, finely decorated in snake, cloud, and lightning designs, is placed in front of the three ya´ya; two finely polished adzes, 12 inches long, are laid either side of the medicine bowl, and by these two large stone knives; two ya´ya stand side by side in front of the bowl, and before each is a snake’s rattle, each rattle having twelve buttons; the sixth ya´ya stands on the tail of the sand-painted cougar; a miniature bow and arrow is laid before each of the six ya´ya; eight human images are arranged in line in front of the two ya´ya, these representing Ma´asewe, Úyuuyewĕ, and the six warriors who live in the six mountains of the cardinal points, the larger figures being 8 and 10 inches high and the smaller ones 4 and 5, the figure of the Warrior of the North having well-defined eyes and nose in bas-relief. This figure is decorated with a necklace of bears’ claws, a similar necklace being around its companion, a clumsy stone hatchet. Most of the images in this line have a fringe of white wool around the face, symbolic of clouds. In front of these figures are three fetiches of Ko´shairi, not over 4 or 5 inches high, with a shell in front of them, and on either side of the shell there are two wands of turkey plumes standing in clay holders, the holders having been first modeled into a ball and then a cavity made by pressing in the finger sufficiently deep to hold the wand. These holders are sun dried. In front of the shell is a cross, the only evidence discovered of an apparent influence of Catholicism. The cross, however, bears no symbol of Christianity to these Indians. The one referred to was given to a theurgist of the Snake Society in remote times by a priest so good of heart, they say, that, though his religion was not theirs, his prayers traveled fast over the straight road to Ko´pĭshtaia; and so their reverence for this priest as an honest, truthful man led them to convert the symbol of Christianity into an object of fetichistic worship. The cross stands on a 6-inch cube of wood, and is so covered with plumes that only the tips of the cross are to be seen, and a small bunch of eagle plumes is attached pendent to the top of the cross with cotton cord. A bear of white stone, 5 inches long, is placed to the left of the cross and just back of it a tiny cub. A wolf, also of white stone, and 5 inches in length, is deposited to the right of the cross. At either end of, and to the front of, the altar are two massive carvings in relief, in red sandstone, of coiled snakes. Bear-leg skins, with the claws, are piled on either side of the altar, and by these gourd rattles and eagle plumes, in twos, to be used by the members in the ceremonial. A necklace of bears’ claws, with a whistle attached midway the string, having two fluffy eagle plumes fastened to the end with native cotton cord,78 hangs over the north post of the altar. The ho´naaite wear this necklace in the evening ceremony. The sacred honey jug (a gourd) and basket containing the sacred meal, a shell filled with corn pollen, a buckskin medicine bag, an arrow point, and an ancient square pottery bowl are grouped in front of the snake fetich on the north side of the altar, and to the north of this group are other medicine bags and turkey feather wands, with bunches of fluffy eagle plumes, tipped black and the other portion dyed a beautiful lemon color, attached to them with cotton cord. These wands are afterwards held by the women, who form the line at night on the north side of the room. A Tusayan basket, containing the offerings, consisting of hä´chamoni, each one being tipped with a bit of raw cotton and a single plume from the wing of a humming bird, with plumes attached upright at the base; Hĕr´ro-tume (staffs) ornamented with plumes, Ta´-wa-ka (gaming blocks and rings for the clouds to ride upon), Maic’-kûr-i-wa-pai (bunches of plumes of birds of the cardinal points, zenith and nadir), is deposited in front of the snake fetich on the south side of the altar, and beyond this basket are similar wands to those north of the altar, which are carried in the ceremonial by the women on the south side of the room. Five stone knives complete the group. A white stone bear, 12 inches long, is placed in front of the whole, and a parrot is attached to the top of the central slat figure. (Pl. xv) Unfortunately, the flash-light photograph of the altar of the Snake Society made during the ceremonial failed to develop well, and, guarding against possible failure, the writer succeeded in having the ho´naaite arrange the altar at another time. The fear of discovery induced such haste that the fetiches, which are kept carefully stored away in different houses, were not all brought out on this occasion.[18]

When the altar is completed the ho´naaite and his associates stand before it and supplicate the presence of the pai´ätämo and Ko´pishtaia, who are here represented by images of themselves, these images becoming the abiding places of the beings invoked. After the prayer, the ho´naaite and his vicar sit upon their folded blankets near the fireplace, where a low fire burns, and with a supply of tobacco and corn husks content themselves with cigarettes until the opening of the evening ceremony.

By 9 o’clock the Snake society was joined in the chai-än-ni-kai (ceremonial chamber) archaic, Su´ᵗ-sĕr-ra-kai by the Kapĭna, it being the prerogative of the hónaaite of one organization to invite other societies to take part in his ceremonies. They formed in line, sitting back of the altar; the hónaaite being in the rear of the central slat figure, which symbolized the hónaaite of the cult society of the cloud people. The other members were seated in the rear, as near as could be, of 79the corresponding symbolic figures of the cloud and lightning people. A boy of 8 years of age, who lay sleeping as the writer entered the room, was aroused to take his position in the line, and a boy of 4 years, who had been sleeping upon a sheepskin, spread on the floor between two of the women, was led from the room by one of them, as he had not entered the degree when he might hear the songs and see the making of the medicine water.

The women formed right angles with the line of men, four sitting on the north side of the room and four on the south side. The elder female member sat at the west end of the line on the north side of the room. The men wore breechcloths of white cotton; the hónaaite and the ti´ämoni wore embroidered Tusayan kilts for breechcloths. The hair was done up as usual, but no headkerchief was worn. The boy and men held oh´-shi-e-kats (gourd rattles) in their right hands and hi´-shä-mi (two eagle plumes) in the left.

The women were attired in their black wool dresses, the calico gown being discarded, and red sashes, wearing the conventional cue and bang. The neck and arms were exposed and the feet and lower limbs were bare. Each woman held two wands of turkey plumes in the right hand, and both men and women wore numerous strings of coral and kohaqua beads with bunches of turkis (properly earrings) attached pendent to the necklaces.

The ceremonial opened with the rattle and song, the women accompanying the men in the song. After a short stanza, which closed, as all the stanzas do, with a rapid manipulation of the rattle, the second stanza was almost immediately begun, when the vicar (Pl. xvii) standing before the altar shook his rattle for a moment and then waved it in a circle over the altar. He repeated this motion six times, for the cardinal points, and returned to his seat before the closing of the stanza. The circle indicated that all the cloud people of the world were invoked to water the earth.

On the opening of the third stanza all arose and the hónaaite reaching over the altar took a yá-ya in either hand, he having previously laid his rattle and eagle plumes by the altar. This stanza was sung with great vivacity by the men, who swayed their bodies to the right and left in rhythmical motion, while the women waved their wands monotonously. The movement of the arms of both the men and women was from the elbow, the upper arms being apparently pinioned to the sides; there was no raising of the feet, but simply the bending of the knees.

At the close of the stanza, which continued thirty minutes, the hónaaite gave a weird call for the cloud people to gather; all, at the same instant, drew a breath from their plumes and took their seats. A woman then brought a vase of water and gourd from the northeast corner of the room and placed it in front of the altar. (Pl. xvi.) In a moment the song was resumed, and the yáni-ᵗsi-wittäñi (maker of medicine80 water) proceeded to consecrate the water. He danced in front of the altar and south of the line of meal, which had been sprinkled from the altar to the entrance of the chamber, raising first one heel and then the other, with the knees slightly bent, the toes scarcely leaving the floor; he held his eagle plumes in his left hand, and shook the rattle with the right, keeping his upper arms close to his side, excepting when extending his plumes toward the altar, which he did three times, each time striking the plumes near the quill end with his rattle as he shook them over the medicine bowl. He then waved his plumes toward the north, and giving a quick motion of the rattle in unison with those of the choir, he drew a breath from the plumes as the fourth stanza closed, and in a moment the song was resumed. The three members of the Snake order then put on necklaces of bears’ claws, each having attached, midway, a whistle. The yániᵗsiwittänn̄i, who had not left his place in front of the altar, danced for a few minutes, then dipped a gourd of water from the vase, raised it high with a weird hoot, and emptied it into the medicine bowl. A second gourdful was also elevated, and, with a cry, it was emptied into the cloud bowl, which stood on the sand-painting of the clouds. The third gourdful was emptied into the same bowl, the raising of the gourd and the cry being omitted; the fourth gourdful was uplifted with a cry and emptied into the medicine bowl. The fifth gourdful was also hoisted with a cry, as before, to the snake hónaaite to implore the cloud rulers to send their people to water the earth, and emptied into the cloud bowl. The sixth gourdful was raised with the call and emptied into the same bowl. The seventh gourdful was elevated with a wave from the south to the altar and emptied into the medicine bowl. The eighth gourdful was raised with a similar motion and emptied into the cloud bowl. The ninth gourdful was elevated and extended toward the east and returned in a direct line and emptied into the medicine bowl. The tenth gourdful was raised toward the west and emptied into the cloud bowl. The eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth gourdfuls were lifted from the vase and emptied without being hoisted into the same bowl. The fifth stanza closed as the last gourd of water was poured into the bowl. In filling the medicine bowl the gourd was passed between two yá-ya. The woman returned the water vase to the corner of the room, and the yániᵗsiwittänn̄i lifted the bowl and drank from it, afterwards administering a draught of the water from an abalone shell to each member, excepting the hónaaite, who, after the yániᵗsiwittänn̄i had resumed his seat in the line, passed to the front of the altar and drank directly from the bowl and returned it to its place.

In the administering of the water the women were helped first, a feature never before observed by the writer in aboriginal life.

With the beginning of the sixth stanza the hónaaite arose, and leaning forward waved his plumes over the medicine bowl with a weird call, each member repeating the call, the women exhibiting more enthusiasm 81than the men in this particular feature of the ceremony. The cry, which was repeated four times, was an invocation to the cloud rulers of the cardinal points to water the earth, and, with each cry, meal was sprinkled into the medicine bowl, each member being provided with a small buckskin bag of meal or corn pollen, which had been previously taken from a bear-leg skin, and laid beside the altar. The members of the Snake Division sprinkled corn pollen instead of meal, the pollen being especially acceptable to the Snake hónaaite, to whom many of their prayers are addressed.

The preparation of the medicine water began with the opening of the seventh stanza. The ya´niᵗsiwittänñi danced before the altar, keeping south of the line of meal, and holding six pebble fetiches in either hand, which he had taken from two small sacks drawn from one of the bear-leg skins. He did not sing, but he kept time with the choir. Extending his right hand toward the altar, he touched the two front ya´ya, and then, placing his hands together, he again extended them, and, drawing closer still to the altar, he dropped a fetich from his right hand into the medicine bowl with a weird cry to the Snake ho´naaite of the north to invoke the cloud ruler of the north to send his people to water the earth; and after raising his hands above his head he again extended them toward the altar, and, leaning forward, dropped a fetich from his left hand into the cloud bowl. This was repeated four times with each bowl, with petitions to the Snake ho´naaites of the north, the west, the south, and the east to intercede with the cloud rulers to send their people to water the earth. Then, taking two large stone knives from before the altar, he struck them together, and, passing from the south of the line of meal to the north, he again brought the knives together. Recrossing the line of meal, he dipped the knives into the bowl of medicine water and sprinkled the altar; then, passing to the north of the line, he dipped the knives into the medicine water and repeated the sprinkling of the altar four times; again, standing south of the line, he dipped the knives into the water, throwing it to the east, and, crossing the line, dipped them into the bowl and repeated the motion to the east, and resumed his seat at the south end of the line of men. The ho´naaite then leaned over the altar, and, dipping his plumes into the medicine bowl, sprinkled the altar four times by striking the plumes on the top with the rattle held in the right hand. The song, which had continued for an hour without cessation, now closed, and the men gathered around the tobacco which lay near the fire-place, and, making cigarettes, returned to their seats and smoked. The boy ignited the fire-stick and held it for the men to light their cigarettes. He passed it first to the man at the north of the line. As each man took the first whiff of his cigarette he blew the smoke toward the altar and waved the cigarette in a circle as he extended it to the altar. After the smoke the song and rattle again resounded through the room, and at the close of a short stanza the man at the north end of the line cried out in a high tone and the women82 gathered before the altar, and each, taking a pinch of meal from the meal bowl, sprinkled the altar and returned to their seats. The ya´niᵗsiwittänñi lifted the shell of pollen from before the altar, and, passing to the entrance and opening the door, waved his rattle along the line of meal and out of the door. After repeating the waving of the rattle he passed his hand over the line and threw out the pollen from his fingers, as offering to the Snake ho´naaite. Returning to the altar, he stood while the ho´naaite dipped his plumes into the medicine water and sprinkled the altar by striking the plumes with the rattle. After the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi and ho´naaite had returned to the line, the cloud-maker (a member of the Spider Society), who sat at the north end, crossed the line of meal, and, holding his eagle plumes and rattle in his left hand, lifted with his right the reed which lay across the cloud bowl, and, transferring it to his left, he held it and the plumes vertically while he prayed. The vice ho´naaite dipped ashes from the fire-place with his eagle plumes, holding one in either hand, sprinkled the cloud-maker for purification, and threw the remainder of the ashes toward the choir. During his prayer, which continued for eight minutes, the cloud-maker appeared like a statue. At the close of the prayer he dropped into the cloud bowl a quantity of to´chainitiwa (a certain root used by the cult societies to produce suds, symbolic of the clouds), and sprinkled with corn pollen the surface of the water, which was already quite covered with it; then, taking the reed in his right hand and still holding it vertically, he began a regular and rapid movement with the reed, in a short time producing a snowy-white froth, which, under his dextrous manipulation, rapidly rose high above the bowl, and fell from it in cascades to the floor. The bowl stood on a cincture pad of yucca, a circle of meal symbolic of the heart or life of the water having been first made. The reed was never raised from the bowl during the stirring of the water. When the clouds were perfected the song ceased, and the cloud-maker stood the reed in the center of the suds, which now wholly concealed the bowl. He then rose, and, after holding his two eagle plumes in his left hand for a moment, he changed one to the right hand and began dancing before the altar; presently he dipped a quantity of suds from the base of the bowl with his two eagle plumes, and threw them to the north of the altar; again dipping the suds, he threw them to the south; continuing to dance to the music of the rattle and the song, he dipped the suds and threw them to the fire-place; dipping them again, he threw them to the earth, each time with an invocation to the cloud people. As he threw the suds to the earth two of the choir dipped their plumes into the bowl of medicine water and sprinkled the altar by striking the upper sides of the plumes with their rattles. The cloud-maker again dipped up the suds, and, facing east, threw them toward the zenith; he then dipped the suds and deposited them in the center of the basket containing the plume offerings; then waving his eagle plumes from north to south, he continued 83dancing, raising first one plume and then the other as he pointed them toward the altar. In a moment or two he dipped suds and threw them toward the women on the north side of the room, and dipping them again threw them toward the women of the south side; at the same time the male members reached forward, and, dipping their plumes into the medicine bowl, sprinkled the altar, each time petitioning the cloud people to gather. The cloud-maker then threw suds to the west; again he dipped the suds and threw them to the zenith, then to the altar; a portion was then placed on the front ya´ya; again he danced, for a time extending his eagle plumes and withdrawing them, and dipped the suds and threw them upward and toward the man on the north end of the line; at the same time the ho´naaite dipped his plumes into the medicine bowl and sprinkled the altar as heretofore described; and the cloud-maker dipped the suds, throwing them toward the vice ho´naaite, and, again dipping them, he threw them toward the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi; he then lifted suds and threw them to the west, then to the zenith, never failing to call the cloud people together. The ho´naaite, keeping his position back of the altar, dipped his plumes into the medicine water and sprinkled the members; again the cloud-maker lifted suds and threw them to the zenith; at the same time the second woman at the west end of the line on the north side dipped her wand into the medicine water, with a cry for the cloud people to gather; the cloud-maker then threw the suds to the west and the ho´naaite sprinkled the members with the medicine water, and the cloud-maker placed the suds upon the heads of the white bear and parrot; and stooping he stirred the suds briskly.

The ti´ämoni lighted a cigarette from a coal at the fireplace and handed it to the cloud-maker, who stood the reed in the center of the suds before receiving the cigarette; he blew the first few whiffs over the suds and then smoked a moment or two and laid about one-third of the cigarette by the side of the cloud bowl. The song, which had continued almost incessantly for three hours, now ceased, and the cloud-maker returned to his seat in the line. The ti´ämoni sat by the fire and smoked, several joining him for a short time; but all soon returned to their seats in the line and continued their smoke.

At the beginning of the succeeding song the two women at the east end of the south line danced before the altar and sprinkled it by striking the wand held in the left hand on the top with the one held in the right. One of the women was frequently debarred taking part in the ceremony owing to the attention required by her infant, who was at times fretful.

Two women from the east end of the north line joined in the dance, and then a third woman from the south line; three of the women formed in line running north and south; an aged woman at the west end of the south line danced, but did not leave her place at the end of the line. She pulled the young boy who sat near her forward, telling him84 to dance. The dancers faced first the east, then the west, sprinkling the altar whenever they reversed, invoking the cloud people to gather. The boy was beautifully graceful, but the women were clumsy; one of them attempted to force out the man at the north end; failing in this, a second woman tried with better success, and the man joined in the dance; this little byplay amused the women. The ho´naaite sprinkled the young man, who in turn sprinkled the ho´naaite. Before the close of the dance the aged woman at the west end of the south line joined the group of dancers and pulled the young man about, telling him to dance well and with animation. At 1:30 a.m. the women sprinkled the altar and returned to their seats, but the man and boy continued to dance and sprinkle the altar at intervals. The vicar placed the basket of plume offerings on the line of meal, and collecting suds from the base of the cloud bowl deposited them in the center of the basket of plumes; and all the members dipped their plumes into the medicine water and sprinkled the altar; the man facing south and the boy north, then sprinkled toward the respective points, and passing down on either side of the meal line they sprinkled eastward, and crossing the line of meal the man sprinkled to the north and the boy to the south, and they returned to the altar and danced for a time, the man remaining north of the line and the boy south. The sprinkling of the cardinal points was repeated four times.

The dancers having taken their seats in the line the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi removed the bowl of medicine water and placed it before the basket of plume offerings; then stooping, he took one of the ya´ya in his left hand and with the right administered the medicine water from an abalone shell to the women first, the infant in the mother’s arms receiving its portion; then to the boy and men. After each draft the hi´shämi and wands were touched to the ya´ya and the sacred breath drawn from them; the ho´naaite was the last to be served by the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi, who in turn received the medicine water from the ho´naaite, who held the ya´ya while officiating. The ya´niᵗsiwittänñi then left the chamber, carrying the ya´ya in his left hand and bowl of medicine water with both hands. When outside the house he sprinkled the six cardinal points, the water being taken into the mouth and thrown out between the teeth.

The ho´naaite lifting the basket of plume offerings stooped north of the meal line and the ti´ämoni and the younger member of the snake division stooped south of the line of meal. The necklaces of bears’ claws had been removed and all but the ho´naaite’s laid on a pile of bear-leg skins, he depositing his on the snake fetich at the north side of the altar. The two young men put on their moccasins and wrapped around them their blankets which had served as seats during the ceremonial before advancing to meet the ho´naaite, who, while the three held the basket repeated a long litany, responded to by the two young men. The women laughed and talked, paying little attention to this 85prayer. At the conclusion the ho´naaite gave a bundle of hä´chamoni to the ti´ämoni and a similar one to his companion; he then gave a cluster of plume offerings to the ti´ämoni and the remainder of the feathers to the companion. The offerings were received in the blanket thrown over the left arm; and each of the young men taking a pinch of shell mixture left the chamber to deposit them at the shrines of the Ko´pĭshtaia with prayers to the Snake ho´naaites: “I send you hä´chamoni and pay you hĕr´rotume, Ta´waka, maic´kûriwapai, I-´ᵗsa-ti-en (turkis and shell offerings) Ûpĕr-we (the different foods) that you may be pleased and have all things to eat and wear. I pay you these that you will beseech the cloud rulers to send their people to water the earth that she may be fruitful and give to all people abundance of all food.”

As the bearers of the offerings left the chamber the ho´naaite played upon a flute which was quite musical; and upon their return he received them standing in front of the altar, and north of the meal line; after a prayer by the ho´naaite the young men turned to the altar and the ti´ämoni offered a prayer, which was responded to by the ho´naaite, who now sat back of the altar.

The boy then made two cigarettes and, after lighting one, he handed it to the ti´ämoni; the second he gave to the companion. After a feast of bread, stewed meat, and coffee, the ho´naaite stooped before the altar and, taking the ya´ya from the tail of the sand-painted cougar in his left hand, he pressed the palm of his right hand to the sand cougar, and drew a breath from it, and, raising the ya´ya to his lips, drew a breath from it, and clasped it close to his breast and passed behind the altar and, reaching over it, he moved the center one of the three ya´ya to the right, and substituted the one he carried, and resumed his seat. In a moment or two the ho´naaite removed the two large fetiches of the cougar to the back of the altar; and the vicar prayed and touched the four cardinal points of the sand painting with pollen, and then placed the palm of his right hand to the sand-painted cougar and, after drawing the sacred breath, rubbed his hand over his body, when all the members hastened to press their hands to the sand-painting, draw the breath, and rub their bodies for mental and physical purification; during which time the ti´ämoni sat back of the altar holding his eagle plumes with both hands before his face, and silently prayed.

The remaining sand was brushed together from the four points by a woman with an eagle plume, and lifted, with the plume, and emptied into the palm of her left hand and carried to her home and rubbed over the bodies of her male children.

The ya´ya were collected by their individual owners, who blew the meal from the feathers and carefully inclosed them in their three wrappings. The four wands of turkey plumes in the clay holders concealed hä´chamoni for Sûs´sĭstinnako from the ho´naaite of the Spider Society; these were not deposited until sunrise, and then by such members of the86 Spider Society as were designated by the ho´naaite. They were planted to the north, west, south, and east of the village, whence Po´shaiyänne departed, with prayers to Ût´sĕt to receive the hä´chamoni for Sûs´sĭstinnako, the Creator. After examining them (the spiritual essence) to see that they are genuine, she hands them to Sûs´sĭstinnako.

The hä´chamoni convey to those to whom they are offered messages as clear to the Indian understanding as any document does to the civilized mind.

The following account of the initiation of a member into the third degree of the Snake order was given the writer by the vicar of the Snake Society.

Such is the impression made upon these people by dreams. This man will be a novitiate for two years, as it requires that time to learn the songs which must be committed to memory before entering the third degree. He continued:

The ceremonials in which snakes are introduced are exclusively for the initiation of members into the third degree of the Snake division. These ordinances must be observed after the ripening of the corn.

The day of the arrival of the society at the snake house (a log structure which stands upon a mound some 6 miles from the village) hä´chamoni are prepared by the ho´naaite and the other members of this division of the society; they are then dispatched by the ho´naaite to the north in search of snakes; and after the finding of the first snake the hä´chamoni are planted; the number of snakes required, depending upon the membership, the ratio being equal to the number of members; there must be a snake from each of the cardinal points, unless the membership is less than four, which is now the case. There being but three members at the present time, only the north, west, and south are visited for the purpose of collecting snakes, but the members must go to the east and deposit hä´chamoni to the Snake ho´naaite of the east.

The war chief notifies the people each day that they must not visit the north, west, south, or east; should one disobey this command and 87be met by any member of the society he would be made to assist in the gathering of the snakes.

An emetic is taken these four days for purification from conjugal relations, and continency is observed during this period. The emetic is composed of the stalks and roots of two plants, which are crushed on a stone slab by the ho´naaite and mixed with water when he designates the member to place it over the fire. It is drunk slightly warm.

The decoction so constantly drank by the Tusayan Indians previous to their snake ceremonial is an emetic, and is taken for the same purpose, and not, as some suppose, to prevent the poisonous effect of snake bites. Medicine for the snake bite is employed only after one has been bitten; for this purpose the Sia use the plant Aplopapus spinulosus (Indian name ha´-ti-ni) in conjunction with ka´-wai-aite, a mixture of the pollen of edible and medicinal plants. An ounce of the plant medicine is put into a quart of water and boiled; about a gill is drunk warm, three times daily, during the four days and the afflicted part is bathed in the tea, and wrapped with a cloth wet with it. An hour after each draught of the tea a pinch of the ka´-wai-aite is drunk in a gill of water. The patient is secluded four days; should one suffering from a snake bite look upon a woman furnishing nourishment for an infant, death would be the result. The Zuñi have the same superstition.

The fifth day a conical structure of cornstalks bearing ripe fruit is erected some 70 feet east of the log house, in a ravine parallel with the side of the house, and a sand painting is made by the ho´naaite on the floor of the house; and when the painting is completed he takes his seat in the west end of the room (the entrance being in the east end), the male members of the society sitting on his right and left, and the women forming right angles at either end of the line. The novitiates are seated southwest of the sand painting, and all are necessarily close together, as the room is very small.

The ritual begins with the rattle and song, and after the song the ho´naaite passing before the line of women on the north side takes a snake from a vase, and, holding it a hand’s span from the head, advances to the east of the sand painting (which is similar in Pl. xiv, with the addition of two slightly diverging lines, one of corn pollen, the other of black pigment, extending from the painting to the entrance of the house), and lays it between the lines, with its head to the east.

There are two vases in niches in the north wall near the west end (Pl. xxxv); one holds the snakes, and the other receives them after they have been passed through the ceremony. At the close of the prayer now offered, he says, “Go to your home; go far; and remain there contentedly.” He then sprinkles corn pollen upon the snake’s head, which rite is repeated by each member; the snake, according to the vice-ho´naaite’s statement, extending its tongue and eating the pollen, “the snake having no hands, puts his food into his mouth with his tongue.”88 The snake is then placed around the throat and head and over the body of the novitiate.

Though the snake can not speak, he hears all that is said, and when he is placed to the body he listens attentively to the words of the ho´naaite, who asks him to look upon the boy and give the boy wisdom like his own that the boy may grow to be wise and strong like himself, for he is now to become a member of the third degree of the Snake division of the society. The ho´naaite then prays to the snake that he will exhort the cloud rulers to send their people to water the earth, that she may bear to them the fruits of her being.

The snake is not only implored to intercede with the cloud rulers to water the earth that the Sia may have abundant food, but he is invoked in conjunction with the sun father in the autumn and winter to provide them with blankets and all things necessary to keep them warm.

Propitiatory prayers are not offered to the snakes, as, according to the Sia belief, the rattlesnake is a peaceful, and not an angry agent. They know he is friendly, because it is what the old men say, and their fathers’ fathers told them, and they also told them that it was the same with the snakes in Mexico. “In the summer the snake passes about to admire the flowers, the trees and crops, and all things beautiful.”

The snake is afterwards placed in the empty vase, and the vice-ho´naaite repeats the ceremony with a second snake, and this rite is followed by each member of the Snake division of the society. The ho´naaite then directs his vicar and another member of the society to carry the vases to the grotto (the conical structure outside) and the latter to remain in the grotto with the snakes; he then with a novitiate by his side passes from the house, and approaching the grotto stands facing it while the vicar and other male members of the society form in line from east to west facing the north, the vice and novitiate standing at the west end of the line.

Those of the Snake division wear fringed kilts of buckskin with the rattlesnake painted upon them, the fringes being tipped with conical bits of tin. The ho´naaite’s kilt is more elaborate than the others, the fringes having fawns’ toes in addition to the tin. Their moccasins are of fine buckskin painted with kaolin. The hair is flowing. The body of the one to receive the third degree is colored black with a fungus found on cornstalks, crushed and mixed with water. The face is painted red before it is colored black, and a red streak is painted under each eye, symbolic, they say, of the lines under the snakes’ eyes. A fluffy eagle plume is attached to the top of the head, and the face is encircled with down from the hawk’s breast. The hands and feet are painted red, and the body zigzagged with kaolin, symbolic of lightning. The buckskin kilt is painted white, with a snake upon it, and white moccasins are worn (Pl. x C). The other members of the society do not have their bodies89 painted, and they wear their hair done up in the usual knot and their feet bare.[19] They wear instead of the kilt a white cotton breechcloth. The women who do not take part in the dance wear their ordinary dress, the cotton gown being discarded.

Upon the opening of the song and dance the ho´naaite procures a snake at the entrance of the grotto and holding it horizontally with both hands presents it to the novitiate, who receives it in the same manner, clasping the throat with the right hand; the ho´naaite and novitiate pass back and forth north of the line from the grotto four times, now and then the novitiate allowing the snake to wrap itself around his throat. The ho´naaite then takes the snake and returns it to the man in the grotto. If there be a second novitiate he and the first one change places, and the ho´naaite inquires of the second whom he wishes for a father and companion; the boy designates a member of the Snake division, and the chosen one is required by the ho´naaite to take his place by the side of the novitiate and accompany him to the grotto; he again receives a snake which he hands to the boy and the former ceremony is repeated. When the novitiates have concluded, each member of the Snake division takes his turn in passing back and forth four times with a snake, the snake being handed him by a companion member. The song and dance does not cease until each snake has been passed through the ceremony. Two of the novitiates, if there be two or more, if not, a novitiate and a member, are requested by the ho´naaite to enter the grotto and receive the vases from the man inside. These they carry to a cave about half a mile distant, and here the bearers of the vases take out each snake separately and placing it upon the ground say: “Go to your home; go far and be contented.” The first snake is deposited to the north, the second to the west, the third to the south, and the fourth to the east; this is repeated until all the snakes are disposed of. The vases are then placed in the cave and the entrance covered with a large slab. The ho´naaite returning to the house takes the ya´ya from the tail of the sand-painted cougar and holding it in his left hand places the palm of his right hand to the cougar and draws from it a breath and rubs his hand over his breast, after which all evidences of the sand-painting are soon erased by the members who hasten forward and rub their bodies with the sand that they may be mentally and physically purified.

When Mr. Stevenson discovered that the Sia held ceremonials with snakes he induced the vicar of the snake society to conduct him to the locality for that special rite. Leaving Sia in the early morning a ride of 6 miles over sand dunes and around bluffs brought the party, including the writer, to the structure known as the snake house, hid away among chaotic hills. Every precaution had been observed to maintain90 secrecy. The house is a rectangular structure of logs (the latter must have been carried many a mile) and is some 8 by 12 feet, having a rude fireplace; and there are two niches at the base of the north wall near the west end in which the two vases stand during the indoor ceremonial. Though this house presented to the visitors a forlorn appearance, it is converted into quite a bower at the time of a ceremonial, when the roof is covered and fringed with spruce boughs and sunflowers and the interior wall is whitened. Some diplomacy was required to persuade the vicar to guide Mr. Stevenson to the cave in which the vases are kept when not in use. A ride half a mile farther into chaos and the party dismounted and descended a steep declivity, when the guide asked Mr. Stevenson’s assistance in removing a stone slab which rested so naturally on the hillside that it had every appearance of having been placed there by other than human agency. The removal of the slab exposed two vases side by side in a shallow cave. A small channel or flume had been ingeniously made from the hilltop that the waters from ti´nia might collect in the vases. These vases belong to the superior type of ancient pottery, and they are decorated in snakes and cougars upon a ground of creamy tint. Mr. Stevenson was not quite satisfied with simply seeing the vases, and determined if possible to possess one or both; but in answer to his request the vicar replied: “These can not be parted with, they are so old that no one can tell when the Sia first had them; they were made by our people of long ago; and the snakes would be very angry if the Sia parted with these vases.” Whenever opportunity afforded, Mr. Stevenson expressed his desire for one of them; and finally a council was held by the ti´ämoni and ho´naaites of the cult societies, when the matter was warmly discussed, the vicar of the Snake society insisting that the gift should be made, but the superstition on the part of the others was too great to be overcome. Mr. Stevenson was waited upon by the members of the council; the ho´naaite of the Snake society addressing him: “You have come to us a friend; we have learned to regard you as our brother, and we wish to do all we can for you; we are sorry we can not give you one of the vases; we talked about letting you have one, but we concluded it would not do; it would excite the anger of the snakes, and perhaps all of our women and little ones would be bitten and die; you will not be angry, for our hearts are yours.”

The night previous to the departure of the party from Sia the vicar of the Snake Society made several visits to the camp, but finding other Indians present he did not tarry. At midnight when the last Indian guest had left the camp he again appeared and hurriedly said, “I will come again,” and an hour later he returned. “Now,” said he, “closely fasten the tent, and one of you listen attentively all the while and tell me when you hear the first footstep;” and he then took from the sack one of the vases, he being in the meanwhile much excited and also distressed. He would not allow a close examination to be made of 91the vase, but urged the packing of it at once; he deposited a plume offering in the vase, and sprinkled meal upon it and prayed while tears moistened his cheeks. The vase was brought to Washington and deposited in the National Museum.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE GIANT SOCIETY.

About noon the ho´naaite, who was nude except the breechcloth, left his seat by the fireside in the ceremonial chamber, where his vicar had been assisting him during the morning in cutting willows and preparing hä´chamoni, and proceeded to make a sand painting in the east end of the room, and when this was completed he erected the slat altar (Pl. xviii a). During the preparation of the sand painting (b) the vicar remained at his post at work upon the hä´chamoni. When the two female members, a woman and a little girl some 8 years of age, arrived, the ho´naaite took from the wall nine shabby-looking sacks, handing one to each person present, reserving two for himself and laying the remaining four to one side to be claimed by the other members of the medicine order of the society. These sacks contained the ya´ya, one of which, it is claimed, was captured from the Navajo by a former ho´naaite of this society, and this fetich is as precious as the others for the reason that it also represents Ût´sĕt, the mother of all Indians.

The five ya´ya were placed in line in front of the altar and on the sand-painting, and a miniature bow and arrow were laid before four of them, the captive one having none. Bear-leg skins with the claws were piled on either side of the altar, and upon these were laid necklaces of bears’ claws, each necklace having a reed whistle suspended midway, two fluffy eagle plumes, tipped with black, being attached to the end of the whistle. The medicine bowl was posted before the five ya´ya, the stone fetiches arranged about the sand painting, and the cloud bowl in front of the whole. The woman brought a triple cupped paint stone near the altar and ground a black pigment, yellow ocher, and an impure malachite; these powders were mixed with water, and the woman and girl painted the hä´chamoni, the child being quite as dextrous as her elder, and equally interested.

While the hä´chamoni were being colored the ho´naaite was busy assorting plumes. He first laid thirteen turkey plumes separately upon the floor, forming two lines; upon each plume he laid a fluffy eagle feather, and then added successively to each group a plume from each of the birds of the cardinal points, turkey plumes being used instead of chapparal cocks’. A low weird chant was sung while the ho´naaite and his vicar tied each pile of plumes together with native cotton cord, the ho´naaite waving each group, as he completed it, in a circle from left to right before his face. The woman at the same time made four rings of yucca, 1¼ inches in diameter, some two dozen yucca needles having been wrapped in a hank and laid in a bowl of water. The92 child brought the hank from the farther end of the room to the woman, who, taking a needle of the yucca, wound it four times around her thumb and index finger; then wrapping this with an extra thread of yucca formed the ring. When the four rings were completed the child took them to the paint stone, which the woman had removed to the far end of the room, and dipped them into the yellow paint and laid them by the woman, who tied three of the piles of plumes together and afterwards handed the rings to the ho´naaite, who added to each ring a plume from the wing of a humming bird. These rings were offerings to the cloud children emblematic of the wheels upon which they ride over ti´nia.

In attaching the plume offerings to the hä´chamoni, the latter are held between the large and second toes of the right foot of the men and woman. There were ten hä´chamoni to bear messages to the cloud rulers of the cardinal points—Ho´chänni, high ruler of the cloud people of the world, Sûs´sĭstinnako, Ût´sĕt, and the sun, the extra bunches of plumes being tied pendent to those already attached to the hä´chamoni for Sûs´sĭstinnako, Ût´sĕt, and the sun.

The ho´naaite placed the hä´chamoni and rings in a flat basket and set it before the altar in front of the cloud bowl, and posted a stuffed parrot upon the central slat of the altar. At this time the other official members appeared, and, unwrapping their ya´ya, handed them to the ho´naaite, who stood them before the altar (Pl. xix). The woman then brought a vase of water and gourd from the far end of the room, and the ho´naaite emptied four gourdfuls into the medicine bowl and then sprinkled corn pollen upon the water, and, dipping his two eagle plumes into the bowl, he sprinkled the altar and offerings. He did not speak a word, but took his seat by the fire and began smoking, awaiting the hour for the evening ceremonial. The ho´naaite and vicar had their meals served in the ceremonial chamber, and after eating, the remainder of the basket of bread and bowl of meat was placed before the altar.

The night ceremony opened with the ho´naaite (Pl. xx) and his vicar dipping their plumes into the medicine water and sprinkling the altar and the food which had been placed before it; the ho´naaite then, sitting in front and to the north side of the altar, repeated a long prayer, supplicating Mo´kaitc, Cougar of the North, to intercede with the cloud people of the north to water the earth that the crops might grow; Ko´hai, the Bear, to intercede with the cloud people of the west to water the earth that the crops might grow; a similar invocation was made to the Tuo´pe, Badger of the South, Ka´kanna, Wolf of the East, Tiä´mi, Eagle of the Heaven, and Mai´tubo, Shrew of the Earth. The vicar then gathered a bit of bread from the basket and of meat from the bowl and handed it to the ho´naaite, who left the house with the food in his left hand, holding his eagle plumes in his right; he cast the food to the animal Ko´pĭshtaia of the cardinal points, begging that they would intercede with the cloud people to come and water the earth; then, returning to 93the ceremonial chamber, he stooped before the altar and to the south side of the line of meal and prayed to the Ko´pĭshtaia, closing with these words: “I have offered you food, our food, that you may eat, and I pray you to exhort the Ko´pĭshtaia of ti´nia [referring to the cloud people] to come and water the earth.” The male members of the society each smoked a cigarette, and afterward the bowl of stew and basket of bread were deposited in the center of the room, and all gathered around and ate. The men then sat on either side of the room and again indulged in a smoke, the woman and girl sitting on the north side near the west end. After the cigarettes were finished the vicar drew a fresh line of meal from the altar to the door situated on the south side and near the west end, and the members formed in line back of the altar. (An explanation of the drawing of the line of meal and the relative positions of the line of men back of the altar has already been given, and is applicable to the rain ceremonials of all the cult societies.) The woman took her seat on the north side of the room, near the altar, the little girl sitting opposite to her on the south side.

The ho´naaite and the ti´ämoni (the latter’s position as ti´ämoni has nothing whatever to do with his relations in the cult societies in which he holds membership) wore white Tusayan cotton breechcloths elaborately embroidered in bright colors; the vicar’s was dark blue and the others white cotton; each man held two eagle plumes and a gourd rattle in the left hand. The woman and little girl wore their ordinary dresses, the high-neck calico gowns being omitted, and they held a turkey wand tipped with fluffy eagle plumes dyed a lemon color, in either hand.

The vicar gave a pinch of meal to the ho´naaite from the pottery meal bowl by the altar, who without rising from his seat sprinkled the altar. The song then opened to the accompaniment of the rattle, which had been transferred to the right hand, the eagle plumes still being held in the left, and keeping time with the rattle. Each stanza closed with a short and rapid shake of the rattle. (The writer noticed in the ceremonials of the cult societies of the Sia the absence of the pottery drum, which is such an important feature with the Zuñi and Tusayan.) With the commencement of the ritual the men from either end of the line moved to the fireplace, and lifting ashes with their plumes, deposited them before the altar and north and south of the meal line, and after dancing and gesticulating for a moment or two they again lifted ashes and sprinkled toward the altar, the under side of the plume held in the left hand being struck with the one held in the right; again lifting ashes one sprinkled to the north and the other to the south, and passing down on either side of the meal line they sprinkled to the west, and crossing they passed up the line and when midway one sprinkled to the north, the other to the south; again dipping ashes they sprinkled to the zenith and with more ashes they sprinkled to the nadir. This sprinkling of the cardinal points was repeated four times,94 and the men then returned to their seats. The second man from the north end of the line coming forward danced while the others sang to the accompaniment of the rattle, each succeeding stanza following in quick succession, the dancer now and then varying the monotony of the song by calling wildly upon the cloud people to come and water the earth. The woman and child waved their wands to the rhythm of the song; the woman who held a sick infant much of the time occasionally fell asleep, but she was awakened by the vicar who sat near her, passing his eagle plumes over her face. Whenever the infant slept it was laid upon a sheepskin, seemingly unconscious of the noise of the rattle and song.

When an especial appeal was to be made to Ût´sĕt, the ho´naaite reached over the altar and took the Navajo ya´ya in his right hand and the one south of it in his left hand (he had deposited his eagle plumes by the altar, but he held his rattle). All now stood, the ho´naaite energetically swaying his body as he waved the ya´ya, holding them out, then drawing them in as he appealed to Ût´sĕt to instruct the cloud people to come and water the earth. This petition concluded, the ho´naaite leaned over the altar, returning the ya´ya to their places, and the choir took their seats and smoked cigarettes of native tobacco wrapped in corn husks. In a few moments the song was resumed, when the woman sprinkled the altar with meal and passing to the west end of the room she lifted a vase of water, placing it on the line of meal, not far from the door, keeping time with the song with her two wands and moving her body up and down by bending her knees, her feet resting firmly on the floor and over the line of meal; again the bowl was raised and moved about 2 feet forward, and she repeated the motion. The bowl was in this way moved five times, the last time being placed immediately before the basket of offerings. As she placed the bowl for the last time she waved the wand held in her right hand twice over the altar, when the song closed only to begin again immediately. The ya´niᵗsiwittänñi now appeared before the altar, north of the meal line and danced, holding two eagle plumes in the left hand and rattle in the right. After a time, transferring the rattle to his left hand, he lifted a gourd of water from the vase and, holding it for a moment, waved it before the altar and emptied it into the medicine bowl with an appeal to the cougar of the north to intercede with the cloud people that the earth might be watered; another gourdful immediately followed; he then took the rattle in the right hand and joined in the song, and danced. A third time he dipped a gourd of water, waved it toward the west with an exhortation to the bear of the west, and emptied it into the bowl, following this with another gourdful, when a weird call was given for the cloud people to come and water the earth. Again he danced and sang, and after a time a fifth gourdful was lifted and waved toward the south, with an appeal to the badger of the south, and emptied into the bowl, when another gourdful followed, and 95dancing for a moment he lifted another gourdful and emptied it into the medicine bowl, imploring the wolf of the east to exhort the cloud people to water the earth, when another gourdful immediately followed. After dancing for a time a gourdful was again dipped and waved toward the altar, then upward, with a call upon the eagle of the heaven to invoke the cloud people to water the earth, and immediately another gourdful of water was emptied into the bowl. Again dancing awhile, a gourdful was waved toward the altar and emptied into the bowl, with a call upon the shrew of the earth to implore the cloud people to water the earth, and again a gourdful was emptied into the bowl. The song closed as the last gourd of water was poured into the bowl and the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi resumed his seat. The woman returned the vase to the west end of the room, and taking a small medicine bag from before the altar, she untied it and handed it to the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi. The men and the girl then took similar bags from before the altar, and the song again began in a low tone to the accompaniment of the rattle. Each member, taking a pinch of corn pollen from his medicine bag, threw it upon the altar and into the medicine bowl, giving a peculiar cry, it being an invocation to the cloud people to gather and water the earth, the woman and child not failing to throw in their share of pollen, raising their voices to the highest pitch as they petitioned the cloud people to water the earth. All then proceeded to take meal from the meal bowl before the altar and throw it into the medicine bowl, continuing their entreaties to the cloud people to water the earth. Six times the meal was thrown into the bowl with invocations to the cloud people. They then returned to their seats, having first deposited the medicine bags before the altar.

The ti´ämoni took from a bear-leg skin six small pebble fetiches, handing one to each man, who in turn passed it to the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi. This recipient advanced to the front of the altar and danced to the music of the choir, and waving his left hand over the altar he dropped a fetich into the medicine bowl, at the same time waving the eagle plumes and rattle which he held in his right hand. After dancing awhile he dropped a fetich from his right hand into the medicine water, and, continuing to dance, he let fall the remaining four fetiches alternately from the left and right hand. Each time a fetich was dropped he gave a weird animal-like growl, which was a call upon the prey animals of the cardinal points to exhort the cloud people to gather and water the earth that she might be fruitful. He then returned to his seat, but almost immediately arose and, standing for a moment, advanced to the front of the altar, stirred the medicine water with the eagle plumes he held in the left hand and sprinkled the offerings by striking the plumes on the top with the rattle, held in the right hand. The sprinkling was repeated four times while the cloud people were invoked to water the earth; as the plumes were struck the fourth time the choir stood and sang and the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi again dipped96 this plumes into the medicine water and sprinkled the altar. The ho´naaite then leaning forward dipped his plumes into the water and sprinkled the altar with a weird call for the cloud people to gather and water the earth that she might be fruitful. Then each member repeated the sprinkling of the altar with a similar prayer, the little girl being quite as enthusiastic as the others, straining her voice to the utmost capacity as she implored the cloud people to gather. The men struck the plumes in their left hands with the rattles held in their right, and the woman and child struck the wand held in the left hand with the one held in the right. Each person repeated the sprinkling of the altar successively six times, with appeals to the animals of the cardinal points. After each sprinkling the sprinkler returned to his place in the line. Thus the choir was at no time deficient in more than one of its number. At the conclusion of the sprinkling a stanza was sung and the altar was again sprinkled six times by each member; in this instance, however, the choir was grouped before the altar, the ho´naaite alone being seated back of it absorbed in song. After the sprinkling the choir returned to the line and joined the ho´naaite in the chant and at its conclusion he sprinkled the altar four times. He did not leave his seat, but leaned forward and dipped his plumes into the medicine water. The ti´ämoni then advanced from the south end of the line and the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi from the north end and sprinkled toward the cardinal points, by passing along the line of meal as heretofore described, the sprinkling being repeated twice. The ti´ämoni returned to his seat and the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi removed the bowl of medicine water, placing it before the fetiches and on the line of meal and stooping with bended knees and holding his two eagle plumes and a ya´ya in his left hand he administered the medicine water to all present, the girl receiving the first draught from an abalone shell. The woman was served next, some being given to the infant she held in her arms, the ho´naaite receiving the last draught. Taking the ya´ya from the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi he drew it to his breast and then returned it to the ya´niᵗsiwittänñi, he receiving it in his left hand and lifting the bowl with both hands he left the house and filling his mouth from the bowl threw the medicine water through his teeth to the cardinal points, and returning placed the bowl and ya´ya in position before the altar.

The ho´naaite gathering the hä´chamoni in his left hand and taking a pinch of meal with his right, stooped before the altar and south of the meal line and offered a silent prayer, and, after sprinkling the altar and hä´chamoni, he divided the offerings, holding a portion in either hand. The ti´ämoni and a companion then stooped north of the line of meal and facing the ho´naaite, clasped his hands with their right hands, holding their eagle plumes in their left and responded to a low litany offered by the ho´naaite, who afterwards drawing a breath from the plumes laid them upon the blankets over their left arms, the two men having wrapped their blankets about them before advancing to the 97ho´naaite. They then left the ceremonial chamber and walked a long distance through the darkness to deposit the offerings at a shrine of the Ko´pĭshtaia. The remaining members talked in undertones until the return of the absent ones, who, upon entering the chamber, stood before the altar and offered a prayer which was responded to by the ho´naaite. All the members then gathered before the altar and asked that their prayers might be answered. The woman and girl arranged bowls of food in line midway the room and south of the meal line and the feast closed the ceremonial at 2 o’clock. a. m.

FOUR NIGHTS’ CEREMONIAL OF THE GIANT SOCIETY FOR THE HEALING OF A SICK BOY.

The night succeeding the ceremonial of the Sko´-yo-Chai´-än (Giant Society) for rain the assembly began its ritualistic observances, which continue four consecutive nights, for the curing of the sick by the brushing process. During the afternoon a sand-painting was made in the east end of the room (compare sand-painting Giant Society, (Pl. xviiib); ya´ya and stone fetiches were grouped upon the painting; a medicine bowl was placed before the ya´ya; bear-leg skins were deposited on either side of the fetiches and a white embroidered sacred Tusayan blanket was folded and laid by the bear-leg skins south of the painting. The five male members of the medicine division of the society had refreshments served early in the evening by the female members, and after supper the ti´ämoni, who is a member of the medicine division, placed a bowl of stewed meat and a basket of bread near the painting; the remainder of the food was stored in the northwest corner of the room for future consumption.

The five men formed in line back of the fetiches, the ho´naaite being the central figure; they had scarcely taken their seats, however, before the ti´ämoni brought a vase of water and a gourd from the west end of the room and set it before the sand-painting and returned to his seat; the ho´naaite, advancing, dipped six gourdfuls of water, emptying each one into the medicine bowl.[20]

The ho´naaite then passing to the north side of the painting stooped with bended knees, holding in his left hand two eagle plumes, and repeated a low prayer; then, taking a small piece of the bread, he dipped it into the stew and scattered it before the fetiches; and, taking more bread and a bit of the meat, he left the ceremonial chamber and threw the food as an offering to the animals of the cardinal points. The ti´ämoni then returned the bowl of meat and basket of bread to the far end of the room. Upon the return of the ho´naaite his vicar spread the Tusayan blanket upon the floor, some 5 feet in front of the painting. He next sprinkled a line of meal from the edge of the blanket nearest 98the painting to the bear fetich, which stood foremost on the painting; thence across the blanket and along the floor to the entrance on the south side and near the west end of the chamber; again, beginning at the center of the blanket he sprinkled a line of meal across the blanket to the south edge, and beginning again at the center he sprinkled a line of meal to the north edge and continued this line to the north wall. Then beginning at the line ending at the south of the blanket, he ran it out to the south wall (these four lines being symbolic of the four winds), and placed the bowl of meal in front of the painting and north of the line of meal. The meal having become somewhat exhausted, the pottery meal bowl was replaced by an Apache basket, containing a quantity of fresh meal, ground by a woman in an adjoining room, where a portion of the family had already retired. The basket of meal was received from the woman by the ti´ämoni, who stood to her left side while she ground the corn in the ordinary family mill. The remainder of the contents of the pottery meal bowl was emptied into the Apache basket, the portion from the bowl being deemed sufficient in quantity to lend a sacred character to the freshly ground meal. The ho´naaite then fastened about his neck a string of bears’ claws with a small reed whistle, having two soft white eagle plumes tied to the end, attached midway, which he took from a pile of bear-leg skins, having first waved the necklace around the white bear fetich, which stood to the front of the painting. Each member of the society then put on a similar necklace; two of the members fastened amulets around their upper right arms and two around their left arms. The ho´naaite rolled his blanket in a wad and sat upon it. The other members made similar cushions. The ti´ämoni, whose seat was at the south end of the line, crossed to the north side of the room, and taking a bit of red pigment rubbed it across his face and returned to his seat, each member rubbing a bit of galena across the forehead, across the face below the eyes, and about the lower part of the face. The paint was scarcely perceptible. It was put on to insure the singing of the song correctly. The ti´ämoni again crossed the room, and taking from the north ledge a bunch of corn husks, he handed them to the man who sat next to him, who was careful to manipulate them under his blanket, drawn around him. The writer thinks that they were made into funnels, in which he placed tiny pebbles from ant hills. The vice-ho´naaite, at the north end of the line, left the room, and during his absence the ho´naaite, taking a bunch of straws which lay by the bear-leg skins, divided it into five parts, giving a portion to each one present. He reserved a share for the absent member, who returned in a short time, bearing the sick child in his arms, being careful to walk on the line of meal; he set the child upon a low stool placed on the broad band of embroidery of the blanket. (Pl. xxi) The man then handed the basket of meal to the child, who, obeying the instructions of the vice-ho´naaite, took a pinch and threw it toward the altar with a few words 99of prayer to Ko´pĭshtaia. The vicar then returned to his seat, and the members, with eagle plumes and straws in their left hands and rattles in their right, began the ritual; they were nine minutes singing the first stanza, which was sung slowly and in very low tones, and at its close each one drew a breath from the eagle plumes and straws. The second stanza was sung louder and faster. The monotony of the song was broken by an occasional animal-like call, which was a request to the cougar of the north to give them power over the angry ants. The child was afflicted with a severe sore throat, caused by ants having entered his body when he was in the act of micturition upon their house, and ascending they located in his throat. After the second stanza the ho´naaite blew first on the right side of the child, then on his back, his left side, and his breast; the other members continuing the song to the accompaniment of the rattle. When he took his seat, the ti´ämoni and the man who sat next to him each drew a breath from their eagle plumes and straws, and dipping them into the medicine water, each one extended his plumes to the child, who drew a breath from them. The two men then resumed their seats. The ho´naaite, again dipping his plumes in the medicine water, passed the ends through the ti´ämoni’s mouth, and afterwards through the mouth of each member, the plumes being dipped each time into the bowl of medicine water. The men were occupied a few moments in drawing something from several of the bear-leg skins. All except the ho´naaite gathered around the altar, dancing and gesticulating in excessive excitement and blowing upon the whistles suspended from their necklaces. They constantly dipped their eagle plumes into the medicine water, throwing their arms vehemently about, sprinkling the altar and touching the animal fetiches with their plumes, and then placing the plumes to the mouths, absorbing from them the sacred breath of the animal. The ho´naaite with bowed head continued his invocations to the cougar of the north, seemingly unconscious of all that was going on about him. After maneuvering before the altar, the four men performed similar extravagances about the child, one of the men standing him in the center of the blanket, careful to place the boy’s feet in diagonal angles formed by the meal lines. Then the four left the room, carrying with them the material taken from the bear-leg skins. The ho´naaite did not cease shaking the rattle and singing during the absence of the four, who visited the house of the sick boy to purify it. Upon returning to the ceremonial room they threw their arms aloft, waving their plumes above them and then about the child, singing and growling, after which they resumed their seats in line with the ho´naaite, and joined him in the song to the accompaniment of rattles. After a few moments these four men and the ho´naaite surrounded the boy; the ho´naaite standing at the northeast corner of the blanket, and the ti´ämoni at the southeast corner, while the others formed a semicircle behind the boy. They all waved plumes and straws in their100 left hands over the invalid boy, and passed them simultaneously down his body from head to feet, striking the plumes and straws with rattles which they held in their right hands; and as the plumes and straws were moved down the boy’s body ants in any quantity were supposed to be brushed off the body, while in reality tiny pebbles were dropped upon the blanket; but the conjuration was so perfect the writer could not tell how or whence they were dropped, although she stood close to the group and under a bright light from a lamp she had placed on the wall for the purpose of disclosing every detail. The tiny nude boy standing upon the white embroidered blanket, being brushed with the many eagle plumes, struck with their rattles by five beautifully formed Indians, was the most pleasing scene of this dramatic ceremonial. The brushing of the child with the plumes was repeated six times, and he was then backed off the blanket over the line of meal and set upon the stool, which had been removed from the blanket, and was afterward given a pinch of meal and told to stand and look at the ants which had been extracted from his body, and to sprinkle the meal upon them. After this sprinkling he resumed his seat upon the stool. The ho´naaite stooped with bended knees at the northeast corner of the blanket and whispered a prayer and sprinkled the blanket. Each member with eagle plumes sprinkled the blanket with meal and carefully brushed together all the material which had fallen on the floor instead of the blanket, after which the ti´ämoni gathered the corners together, waved it over the child’s head, and left the room with it. All sat perfectly quiet, holding their rattles, eagle plumes, and straws in their right hands during the absence of the ti´ämoni. Upon his return he waved the folded blanket twice toward the group of fetiches and toward himself, then passed it twice around the child’s head, and finally laid it upon the pile of bear-leg skins at the south side of the painting. The child, who was ill and burning with fever, was led by the vice ho´naaite to the fetiches, which he sprinkled with meal, and was carried from the chamber and through an outer room to his mother at the entrance.

The ho´naaite is not supposed to leave the ceremonial chamber throughout the four days and nights, as he must guard the animal fetiches and medicine. The other members are also supposed to spend much of the day and all of the night in watching the fetiches; but the writer is of the opinion that they all go to sleep after the feast, which is enjoyed as soon as the child leaves the chamber.

The only variation in the ceremonial on the second night was that the vicar dipped the bit of bread into the bowl of stew and scattered it to the animal fetiches, having previously lifted ashes from the fireplace and sprinkled the altar with them by striking the plume held in the left hand on the under side with the plume held in the right; then holding the plumes between his hands he repeated a long and scarcely audible prayer. After scattering the food to the animal fetiches, he 101dipped a piece of bread into the stew, left the house and threw the food to the cardinal points, as the ho´naaite had done the previous night, and, returning, removed the bowl of stew and basket of bread to the northwest corner of the room. He then swept the floor with his two eagle plumes, beginning some 18 inches in front of the altar (the line of meal remaining perfect to this point) to the point where the blanket was to be placed, and then laid the blanket and made the meal lines, the change in the drawing of these lines being that the line was begun at the line of meal which extended in front of the altar and ran over the blanket to the entrance of the room; then beginning in the center of the blanket, the line was extended across to the north wall, and again beginning in the center, a line was run across to the south wall. The writer mentions this deviation in the drawing of the meal lines, though she believes it was a mere matter of taste on the part of the worker. Instead of the vice ho´naaite receiving the child at the outer entrance, the man who sat between him and the ho´naaite brought the child into the room, and he was led out by the ti´ämoni. Upon this occasion, and on the third and fourth nights, the child walked into and out of the room, an indication that he was in better physical condition than on the first night of the ceremony. The songs on the second night were addressed to the bear of the west instead of the cougar of the north. The child did not seem to move a muscle throughout the ceremony, except when he stepped to his position on the blanket.

The scenes on the third and fourth nights were coincident with those of the second, with a few variations. The man who sat between the ho´naaite and his vicar dipped the ashes with his plumes and sprinkled the altar, and, returning to his seat, the vicar laid the blanket and sprinkled the meal lines in the same manner as on the previous night; he also procured the child. When dancing before the altar two men wore bear-leg skins on their left arms, and two others wore them on their right arms. It was noticed that the skins were drawn over the arms upon which the amulets were worn. Their dancing and incantations were even more turbulent and more weird than on the two former nights.

The songs the third night were addressed to the badger of the south and on the fourth to the wolf of the east.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE KNIFE SOCIETY.

While the ho´naaite and his vicar sat during the morning making hä´chamoni they rehearsed in undertones the songs of their cult. The membership of this society consists at the present time of five men and two boys, and two novitiates, a man and a boy.

The sun was far to the west when the members came straggling in and the ho´naaite proceeded to set up the slat altar (Pl. xxiia). Then each man took from the wall a soiled buckskin sack. The well-wrapped ya´ya was first taken out and then other fetiches. After the ho´naaite102 had unwrapped his ya´ya he prepared the sand painting in front of the altar (Pl. xxiib). The five ya´ya were stood on the line specially made for them and a miniature bow and arrow laid before each ya´ya. The ho´naaite then grouped fetiches of human and animal forms, then the medicine bowl containing water and a basket of sacred meal. He then drew a line of meal which extended from the slat altar to a distance of 3 feet beyond the group of fetiches, his vicar afterwards assisting him with the additional fetiches. Two stone cougars 2 feet in length each were stood up on either side of the group. A cougar 12 inches long, with lightning cut in relief on either side, and a concretion, were then deposited before the group. Bear-leg skins were piled high on either side of the altar. The cloud bowl and reed were added, the two flat baskets of hä´chamoni and plume offerings shown in the sketch were afterwards deposited upon the backs of the cougars. While this arrangement was in progress the minor members returned the powdered kaolin and black pigment to the ancient pottery vases, from which they had been taken to prepare the sand-painting.

The ho´naaite consecrated the bowl of water by a prayer, and dropping in the six fetiches he dipped his eagle plumes into the water and striking them on the top with his rattle, sprinkled the altar; holding the plumes in the left hand and the rattle in the right, he sprinkled the cardinal points. The vicar formed a circle of meal, then sprinkled 103meal upon the circle and placed a cincture pad of yucca upon it, and holding the cloud bowl high above his head, he invoked the cloud people of the north, west, south, east, zenith, and nadir, and of the whole world, to water the earth. The bowl was then set upon the pad and a reed 8 inches long laid across it from northeast to southwest. The vice ho´naaite spread a small cloth and upon it reduced the bit of root which was to produce the suds to a powder, which he placed in a little heap in front of the cloud bowl. The ho´naaite, who had left the chamber, now returned with a parrot and a white stone bear 12 inches long; the bear was wrapped in a large fine white buckskin and the parrot was under the ho´naaite’s blanket. These were deposited before the altar (Pl. xxiii).

The ho´naaite (Pl. xxiv) stooped and, praying, sprinkled corn pollen upon the bear and parrot. The bear and the bird had eagle plumes attached to their necks with cotton cord. Those on the bear were on the top of the neck and those of the parrot hung under the beak. After the prayer the ho´naaite lighted a cigarette of native tobacco and corn husk from a stick some 5 feet long, held by a boy member, and puffed the smoke over the bear and parrot. He then extended the cigarette over the altar, afterwards waving it to the cardinal points. The vicar and boy sprinkled the bear and parrot with pollen from an abalone shell and the vicar dipped his eagle plumes into the medicine bowl and sprinkled them four times, then the altar, by striking the plumes with the rattle held in his right hand. The ho´naaite then puffed smoke into the cloud bowl and over the bear and parrot, and extended his cigarette to the cardinal points, and over the altar. The vicar lighted a similar cigarette from the long stick held by the boy, and standing to the west of the altar blew smoke over it, the ho´naaite standing and smoking to the right of him. The vicar laid the end of his cigarette by the cloud bowl and to the east of the line of the meal. The shell of corn pollen was then placed back of the altar and the104 ho´naaite’s eagle plumes and rattle laid beside it; a prayer before the altar by all the members closed the afternoon ceremony.

It will be noticed that the slat altar in Pl. xxv differs from that in Pl. xxiii. Both belong to the Knife Society and may be seen hanging side by side on the wall in the ceremonial chamber of the Quer´ränna, (Pl. xxviii) which is also the official chamber of the Knife Society. The second was made in case of failure of the first. The vicar of this society is also ho´naaite and only surviving member of the Ant Society, and he, being anxious that the writer should see the sand painting of the Ant Society, prepared the painting for this occasion instead of the ho´naaite (Fig. 17). He also drew her a sketch of the painting of Ant Society for ceremonial held for the sick, which is here introduced (Fig. 18). This last may be described as follows:

a represents meal painting emblematic of the clouds, b and c bear-leg skins laid either side of it. The remainder of painting is in sand. d: Ant chief clad in buckskin fringed down the arms and legs; he carries lightning in his left hand; his words pass straight from his mouth, as indicated by a line, to the invalid e, who sits at the opening of the ceremonial to the right of the painting. The ant chief speaks that the malady may leave the invalid. A song of this character is sung by the members of the society. The invalid then passes to the front of the altar and stands upon a sacred Tusayan blanket (position indicated by f), when the ho´naaite and other members of the society proceed with their incantations over him, imploring the prey animals to draw the ants to the surface of the body. When the ants have appeared and been brushed from the body then a song is addressed to the eagle g to come and feed upon the ants. When the ants have been eaten by the eagle the invalid will be restored to health. The two circular spots h represent ant houses. These, with the paintings of the ant chief and eagle, are gathered into the blanket upon which the invalid stood and carried some distance north of the village and deposited. After the blanket has been taken from the chamber the meal painting is erased by the ho´naaite brushing the meal from each of the cardinal points to the center with his hand; he then rubs the invalid’s body with the meal, after which the members hasten to rub their bodies with it, that they may be purified not only of any physical malady but of all evil thoughts.

When the writer entered the ceremonial chamber later in the evening food was being placed in line down the middle of the room. There were seven bowls, containing mutton stew, tortillas, waiavi, and hominy. There was also a large pot of coffee and a bowl of sugar. The ho´naaite, standing to the east of the meal line, which extended from the altar to the entrance, repeated a long grace, after which one of the boy members gathered a bit of food from each vessel, and standing on the opposite side of the line of meal, handed the food to the ho´naaite, who received it in his left hand, having transferred his eagle plumes to the 105right. He then left the house, and throwing the food to the cardinal points, offered it to the animal Ko´pĭshtaia, with a prayer of intercession to the cloud people to gather, saying:

“Ko´pĭshtaia! Here is food, come and eat; Ko´pĭshtaia, Cougar of the North, receive this food; Bear of the West, receive this food; Badger of the South, we offer you food, take it and eat; Wolf of the East, we give you food; Eagle of the Heavens, receive this food; Shrew of the Earth, receive this food. When you eat, then you will be contented, and you will pass over the straight road [referring to the passing of the beings of the ko´pĭshtaia over the line of meal to enter the images of themselves]. We pray you to bring to us, and to all peoples, food, good health, and prosperity, and to our animals bring good health and to our fields large crops; and we pray you to ask the cloud people to come to water the earth.”

Upon returning to the ceremonial chamber, the ho´naaite, standing before the altar, prays to Ma´asewe, Úyuuyewĕ, and the six warriors of the mountains of the cardinal points to protect them from all enemies who might come to destroy their peace; and, standing at the end of the line of food, he offers a prayer of thanksgiving, holding his eagle plumes in his left hand. He then rolls his blanket into a cushion, sits upon it west of the line of meal and smokes a cigarette. The food having been brought in by the wives of the members, all present drew around and enjoyed the feast. That the minor members felt at liberty to join with their elders was indicated by the way in which they proceeded to help themselves.

The war chief came into the room soon after the beginning of the meal, wrapped in a fine Navajo blanket, and carrying his bow and arrows. He stood in front of the altar, on the west side of the meal line, and prayed. The vice-ho´naaite administered to the war chief a draft of the medicine water which had been prepared in the afternoon, and then handed him the official staff of the society (a slender stick some 2 feet in length), which he held with his bow and arrows until the close of the ceremonial. The war chief sat for awhile at the south end of the room, and then left to patrol the town and to see that no one not privileged entered or came near the ceremonial chamber. After the meal was finished the three boys removed the bowls to another room, and, upon their return, one of them swept the middle of the floor, destroying most of the meal line, leaving but 2 feet of it undisturbed in front of the altar. This line, however, was renewed by the vice-ho´naaite, who carried two eagle feathers and the meal bowl in his left hand, while he sprinkled the meal with the right, not for the purpose of furnishing a road for the beings of pai´ätämo and ko´pĭshtaia to pass over, for they had previously come to the images of themselves, but that the songs might pass straight over and out of the house.

The men now indulged in a smoke. The writer never observed Sia boys smoking in these ceremonials or at any other time. The cigarettes were106 lighted from the long stick passed by one of the boys, and after smoking, the ho´naaite and his younger brother put on white cotton embroidered Tusayan kilts as breechcloths, which they took from a hook on the wall, those of the other members being plain white cotton. The ho´naaite now took his seat back of the altar and lighted a second cigarette from the long stick, blowing the smoke over the altar. This smoke was offered to Pai´ätämo and Ko´pĭshtaia, the ho´naaite saying: “I give this to you; smoke and be contented.” He then administered medicine water to all present, dipping the water with a shell. The vice-ho´naaite, who received the last draft, drank directly from the bowl, and was careful not to leave a drop in it, after which the ho´naaite removed the six stone fetiches from the bowl. The process of preparing medicine water is substantially the same with all the cult societies, there not being in Sia nearly so much ceremony connected with this important feature of fetich worship as with the Zuñi and Tusayan. The six fetiches were returned to the buckskin bag and the ho´naaite resumed his seat behind the altar, the members and novitiates having already formed in line back of the altar, the official members each holding two eagle plumes in the left hand and a gourd rattle in the right. After a short prayer by the ho´naaite, the boy lifted ashes from the fireplace with his eagle plumes and placed them near the altar and east of the meal line; again he dipped a quantity, placing them west of the line of meal. As the chant opened, he stood west of the line and facing the altar, and an adult member stood on the east side, and each of them held an eagle plume in either hand and a gourd rattle also in the right. The boy dipped with the plumes the ashes which lay west of the line of meal and the man those which lay east of the line, and sprinkled toward the north by striking the plumes held in the left hand on the underside with the plume held in the right; again dipping the ashes, the boy sprinkled toward the west and the man toward the east; again lifting ashes, they passed to the south and sprinkled there; the boy then crossed to the east of the line of meal and the man to the west of the line, and when midway of the line the boy sprinkled to the east and the man to the west; then, dancing before the altar, they again lifted ashes and sprinkled to the north. When dancing, both eagle plumes were held in the left hand and the rattle in the right. Ashes were again lifted and thrown twice toward the zenith and then thrown to the nadir. The sprinkling to the cardinal points, zenith and nadir, was repeated fifteen times in the manner described. This was to carry off all impurities of the mind, that it might be pure; that the songs would come pure from the lips and pass straight over the road of meal—the one road. The man and boy having resumed their seats in the line, the vice-ho´naaite stood before the altar to the west side of the line of meal, shook his rattle for a moment or two, then waved it vertically in front of the altar, invoking the cloud people to come; he then waved the rattle from the west to the east, repeating107 the weird exhortation, his body being kept in motion by the bending of his knees, his feet scarcely leaving the ground. The rattle was waved three times from the west to the east, and then waved toward the west and toward the altar, the east and to the altar; then, raising the rattle high above his head, he formed a circle. This waving of the rattle was repeated sixteen times. Previous to each motion he held the rattle perfectly still, resting it on the eagle plumes which he held in the left hand.

After the sixteenth repetition he waved the rattle over the altar. The song during this time is an appeal to the cloud people of the north, west, south, east, and all the cloud peoples of the world, to gather and send rain to water the earth, that all mankind may have the fruits of the earth. The vicar then stood to the right of the ho´naaite, and the choir, rising, continued to sing. The ho´naaite, leaning over the altar, took two of the central ya´ya, one in either hand, and alternately raised them, keeping time with the song, now and then extending the ya´ya over the altar. The young novitiate held neither rattle or plumes. The boy at the east end of the line, having passed through two degrees, held his rattle in the right hand and in his left a miniature crook. The vicar who stood at the right of the ho´naaite and the man who stood to his left moved their rattles and feathers in harmony with his motion, the three swaying their bodies back and forth and extending their arms outward and upward. About this time it was noticed that the boys at the east end of the line had fallen asleep, and it was more than the man who sat next to them could do to keep them awake, although he was constantly brushing their faces with his eagle plumes. This little scene was something of a picture, as the boy whose shoulder acted as a support for the head of the other is the son of one of the most prominent and richest men in the pueblo, the other boy being the pauper referred to. The stanzas in this song were much longer than any before heard by the writer, and each closed with a quick shake of the rattle. The song continued an hour and a quarter, when the singers took a few moments’ rest, and again sang for thirty minutes; another few minutes’ rest, and the song again continued. In this way it ran from half past 9 o’clock until midnight. At its close one of the boys brought a vase of water and a gourd from the southwest corner of the room and placed it near the altar and west of the line of meal. The ya´niᵗsiwittänn̄i stood before the vase, and, lifting two gourdfuls of water, emptied them into the medicine bowl; emptying two gourdfuls, also, into the cloud bowl, he danced for a time before the altar, waving his plumes and rattle over it; he then emptied two more gourdfuls into the medicine bowl and two more into the cloud bowl, and resumed his dance. He did not sing while performing this part of the ceremony, but when emptying the water into the bowls he gave bird-like trills, calling for the cloud people to gather. Again he emptied two gourdfuls into the medicine bowl and two in the cloud bowl; and after dancing a moment108 or two he poured two more gourdfuls into the medicine bowl and two into the cloud bowl, and resumed the dance; again he emptied a gourdful into the medicine bowl and two into the cloud bowl; then he emptied three into the medicine bowl and drank twice from the bowl, after which he returned to his seat in the line, the boy restoring the vase to the farther corner of the room. Two small medicine bags were handed to each member from the altar, one containing corn pollen and the other corn meal of six varieties of corn: yellow, blue, red, white, black, and variegated. The bags were held in the left hand with the eagle plumes, that hand being quiet, while the rattle was shaken with the right in accompaniment to the song. After singing a few minutes, pollen and meal taken from the medicine bags were sprinkled into the medicine bowl. The choir did not rise and pass to the altar, but leaned forward on either side; and with each sprinkling of the meal and pollen a shrill call was given for the cloud people to gather; the ho´naaite, in sprinkling in his pollen, reached over the altar slats. The sprinkling of the pollen was repeated four times, the novitiates taking no part in this feature of the ceremony, although they were provided with the bags of pollen and meal. The ya´niᵗsiwittänn̄i danced before the altar and west of the line of meal without rattle or plumes, but continually hooted as he waved his hands wildly over the altar and dropped pebble fetiches alternately into the medicine and cloud bowls, until each bowl contained six fetiches; then, reaching behind the altar for his rattle and eagle plumes, he held an eagle plume and rattle in the right hand and an eagle plume in the left, and stirred the water and sprinkled the altar; then he stirred the water in the cloud bowl with the reed, and sprinkled the altar with it. The sprinkling of the altar from the medicine bowl and the cloud bowl was repeated six times.

After each sprinkling a quick shake of the rattle was given. The ho´naaite then reached over the altar slats, taking a ya´ya in either hand, and all stood and sang. In a moment the man to the right of the ho´naaite leaned over the west side of the altar, and, dipping his plumes in the medicine water, sprinkled the altar; he repeated the sprinkling four times, and when the two ya´ya were returned to the altar the ho´naaite dipped his eagle plumes into the medicine water, and sprinkled the altar by striking them on the top with the rattle held in the right hand. Each member then sprinkled the altar four times, with a wild exhortation to the cloud people, all apparently exhibiting more enthusiasm when sprinkling the altar than at any other time during the ceremonial. When the song closed two of the boys proceeded to prepare cigarettes, taking their places before the fireplace, and, tearing off bits of corn husks of the proper size, they made them pliable by moistening them with saliva. One boy made his cigarettes of native tobacco, which he took from an old cloth hanging on the wall; the other filled his with commercial tobacco. As the boys made cigarettes they tied them with ribbons of corn husks, simply to keep them 109in shape until the smokers were ready. The remaining native tobacco was returned to the old cloth and put in place upon the wall. About the time the boys had finished preparing the cigarettes, the vice-ho´naaite took his seat on his wadded blanket, in front of the cloud bowl and west of the line of meal. The man at the east end of the line dipped his eagle plumes into the ashes, holding a plume in either hand and striking the one held in the left hand on the under side with the plume held in the right, he sprinkled the head of the vicar, who was offering a silent prayer, and at the same moment the song opened to the accompaniment of the rattle. Previous to the vicar leaving the line, the ho´naaite removed a white fluffy eagle feather from one of the ya´ya, to which it had been attached with a white cotton cord, and tied it to the forelock of the vicar, who put into the cloud bowl the powdered root which was to produce the froth; then dipping the reed into corn pollen he sprinkled the altar. He placed a pinch of pollen into the upper end of the reed, and, turning that into the water, he put a pinch into the other end, and touched the four cardinal points of the cloud bowl with the corn pollen, and made bubbles by holding the hollow reed in the center of the bowl and blowing through it. This operation lasted but a few moments, when he began stirring the water with the reed, moving it from right to left, and never raising the lower end to the surface of the water, producing a beautiful egg-like froth. Not satisfied with its rising high above the bowl, he did not cease manipulating until the suds had completely covered it, so that nothing could be seen but a mass of snowy froth; fifteen minutes of continual stirring was required to produce this effect. He then stood the reed in the center of the froth, and holding an eagle plume in each hand danced before the altar vehemently gesticulating. He dipped suds with his two plumes and threw them toward the altar, with a wild cry, and again dipping suds he threw them over the altar to the north; a like quantity was thrown to the west, and the same to the south, the east, the zenith, and the nadir. He then dipped a quantity, and placing some on the head of the white bear and putting some over the parrot, he resumed his seat on the blanket and began blowing through the reed and beating the suds. In five minutes he stood the reed as before in the center of the bowl, then, dancing, he dipped the suds, placing them on the head of the bear and over the parrot; he then removed the remaining suds from the plumes by striking one against the other over the bowl (this froth is always referred to by the Sia as clouds). During this part of the ceremony the choir sang an exhortation to the cloud peoples. A boy now handed a cigarette of native tobacco to the vicar, who puffed the smoke for some time, extending the cigarette to the north; smoking again, he blew the smoke to the west, and extended the cigarette to that point; this was repeated to the south and east; when he had consumed all but an inch of the cigarette, he laid it in front of the cloud bowl and east of the meal line. The110 choir did not cease singing during the smoking, and when the bit of cigarette had been deposited, the vicar transferred his rattle to his right hand, keeping time with the choir. When the song closed he left his seat in front of the cloud bowl and stood by the west side of the altar, and removing the eagle plume from his head returned it to the ya´ya and took his seat near the fireplace. Two of the boys then lighted cigarettes of native tobacco with the long fire-stick, handing one to each member.

In fifteen minutes the song was resumed and the man west of the ho´naaite dipped his eagle plumes in the medicine water and sprinkled the altar, repeating the sprinkling four times. In twenty-five minutes the song closed and the men enjoyed a social smoke, each man after lighting his cigarette waving it towards the altar. In twenty-five minutes the choir again sang, two boys standing in front of the altar, one on either side of the line of meal. The one on the west side of the line dipped his plumes into the medicine water and sprinkled the altar, and the one on the east side of the line dipped his crook into the medicine water and sprinkled the altar. They then dipped into the cloud bowl and threw the suds to the north; dipping suds again the boy west of the line threw the suds to the west, and the one east of the line threw the suds to the east; again dipping medicine water they passed to the south and threw the water to that point, the boy west of the meal line crossed to the east, and the one on the east of the line of meal crossed to the west, and returning to the altar they dipped suds, the boy to the west of the line throwing suds in that direction, and the boy east of the line throwing suds to that point; again dipping the medicine water they sprinkled to the zenith, and dipping the suds they threw them to the nadir; then the boy on the west of the line crossed to the east, and the one on the east of the line crossed to the west, and thus reversing positions they repeated the sprinkling of the cardinal points, zenith and nadir, twelve times, dipping alternately into the medicine water and the cloud bowl. With the termination of the sprinkling the song ceased for a moment, and by command of the ho´naaite the boys, each taking a basket of hä´chamoni, which were resting on the backs of the cougar fetiches either side of the altar, stood in front of the altar, one on the west side of the meal line and the other on the east, and holding the baskets in their left hands shook their rattles; they then held the basket with both hands, moving them in time to the song and rattles of the choir. The ho´naaite directed them to wave the baskets to the north, west, south, and east, to the zenith and the nadir; this they repeated twelve times and then deposited the baskets either side of the cloud bowl, and the vicar placed the bowl of medicine water two feet in front of the cloud bowl, on the line of meal, and taking one of the ya´ya in his left hand, he passed east of the line and, stooping low, he stirred the medicine water with an abalone shell, and then passed his hand over the ya´ya and drew a breath from it. 111The man at the west end of the line of worshipers now came forward and the vicar gave him a drink of the medicine water, then the man at the east end of the line received a draft. The boy who threw the suds with the plumes came next, and following him the boy (the pauper) who held the miniature crook; then the third boy advanced and drank; the man on the left of the ho´naaite following next, the ho´naaite came forward; he did not receive the water from the shell, but drank directly from the bowl; the vicar holding the bowl with his right hand placed it to the ho´naaite’s lips, the ho´naaite clasping the ya´ya, which was held in the left hand of the vicar; he then taking the bowl with his right hand and clasping the ya´ya with his left, held it to the lips of the vicar, who afterwards left the room, carrying with him the remainder of the medicine water and the ya´ya. He passed into the street and, filling his mouth with the water, he threw a spray through his teeth to the north, west, south, and east, the zenith and the nadir and then to all the world, that the cloud people might gather and water the earth. In a short time he returned and placed the bowl and ya´ya before the altar. The shell was laid east of the line of meal and in front of the cloud bowl. A cigarette was then handed the ho´naaite and, after blowing the first few puffs over the altar, he finished it without further ceremony, and taking the two baskets of plume offerings in either hand he stooped with bended knees a short distance in front of the altar and west of the line of meal. The two minor members wrapped their blankets around them and stooped before the ho´naaite on the opposite side of the meal line. The ho´naaite divided the offerings between the two, placing them on the blanket where it passed over the left arm; these offerings were to Pai´ätämo and Ko´pĭshtaia, and were deposited by the boys at the shrines of Kopĭshtaia (Pls. xxvi and xxvii). Food was now brought in by the boy novitiate, and with the feast the society adjourned at 3 o’clock in the morning.

SOCIETY OF THE QUER´RÄNNA.

The Society of the Quer´ränna has a reduced membership of three—the ho´naaite, vicar, and a woman; and there is at the present time a novitiate, a boy of 5 years. Three generations are represented in this society—father, son, and grandson. The elder man is one of the most aged in Sia, and, though ho´naaite of the Quer´ränna and vicar of the Society of Warriors, and reverenced by his people as being almost as wise as the “Oracle,” his family is the most destitute in Sia, being composed, as it is, of nonproducing members. His wife is an invalid; his eldest son, the vicar of the Quer´ränna Society, is a paralytic, and a younger son is a trifling fellow. The third child is a daughter who has been blind from infancy; she is the mother of two children, but has never been married. The fourth child is a 10-year-old girl, whose time is consumed in the care of the children of her blind sister, bringing the water for family use, and grinding the corn (the mother and sister occasionally assisting in the grinding) and preparing the meals, which consist, with rare exceptions, of a bowl of mush. During the planting and harvest times the father alone attends to the fields, which are their main dependence; and he seeks such employment as can be procured from his people, and in this way exchanges labor for food. Every blanket of value has been traded for nourishment, until the family is reduced to mere tatters for garments. For several years this family has been on the verge of starvation, and the meagerness of food and mental suffering tells the tale in the face of each member of the household, excepting the worthless fellow (who visits about the country, imposing upon his friends). Even the little ones are more sedate than the other children of the village.

Nothing is done for this family by the clan. Close observation leads the writer to believe that the same ties of clanship do not exist with the Sia as with the other tribes. This, however, may be due to the long continued struggle for subsistence. Fathers and mothers look first to the needs of their children, then comes the child’s interest in parents, and brothers and sisters in one another. No lack of self-denial is found in the family.

The ho´naaite of the Quer´ränna is the only surviving member of the Eagle clan, but his wife belongs to the Corn clan, and has a number of connections. When the writer chided a woman of this clan for not assisting the sufferers she replied: “I would help them if I could, but we have not enough for ourselves,” a confirmation of the opinion that the clan is here secondary to the nearer ties of consanguinity. The care of one’s immediate family is obligatory; it is not so with the clan.

The house in which this family lives is small and without means of ventilation, and the old man may be seen, on his return from his daily labors, assisting his invalid wife and paralytic son to some point where they may have a breath of pure air. They are usually accompanied by the little girl leading her blind sister and carrying the baby on her back by a bit of an old shawl which the girl holds tightly around her.

Always patient, always loving, is the old man to those of his household, and the writer was ever sure of a greeting of smiles and fond words from each of these unfortunates. Not wanting in hospitality even in their extremity, they invited her to join them whenever she found them at their frugal meal.

The only medicine possessed by the Quer´ränna is se´-wili, which is composed of the roots and blossoms of the six mythical medicine plants of the sun, archaic white shell and black stone beads, turkis, and a yellow stone.

The preparation of this medicine and that of the other cult societies is similar to the mode observed by the Zuñi. Women are dressed in sacred white embroidered Tusayan blankets, and they grind the medicine to a fine powder amid great ceremony. When a woman wishes to become pregnant this medicine is administered to her privately by the ho´naaite, a small quantity of the powder being put into cold water and a fetich of Quer´ränna dipped four times into the water. A dose of this medicine insures the realization of her wish; should it fail, then the woman’s heart is not good. This same medicine is also administered at the ceremonials to the members of the society for the perpetuation of their race; and the ho´naaite, taking a mouthful, throws it out through his teeth to the cardinal points, that the cloud people may gather and send rain that the earth may be fruitful.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE QUER´RÄNNA SOCIETY.

During the day hä´chmoni and plume offerings are prepared by the ho´naaite, and in the afternoon he arranges the altar, which is quite different from those of the other cult societies, and makes a meal painting symbolic of clouds. Six fetiches of Quer´ränna are then arranged in line, the largest being about 6 inches, the smallest 3, the others graduating in size; a medicine bowl is set before the line of fetiches; antlers are stood to the east of the meal painting; and baskets of cereals, corn on the cob, medicine bags, and a basket of hä´chamoni and plume offerings are arranged about the painting. Pl. xxxviii shows photograph at time of ceremonial; Pl. xxix, made in case of failure of the first, shows the meal painting, symbolic of clouds, which is completely hidden in the first photograph, and illustrates more definitely the feather decoration of the altar. The birds surmounting the two posts are wood carvings of no mean pretensions; the feathers by the birds are eagle plumes, and the bunches of plumes suspended from114 the cord are tail feathers of the female sparrow hawk (Falco sparverius) and the long-crested jay (Cyanocetta macrolopha).

The men and child have their forelocks drawn back and tied with ribbons of corn husks, the men each having a bunch of hawk and jay feathers attached pendent on the left side of the head. They wear white cotton breechcloths and necklaces of coral and kohaqua (archaic shell heads).[21] The woman wears her ordinary dress and several coral necklaces, her feet and limbs being bare.

The ho´naaite, removing a bowl of meal from before the altar and holding it in his left hand, together with his eagle plumes and a wand,—the wand being a miniature crook elaborately decorated with feathers,—sprinkled a line of meal from the painting to the entrance of the chamber, for the being of Quer´ränna to pass over.

The ho´naaite, his vicar, and the woman sat back of the altar, the ho´naaite to the west side, the vice to his right, and the woman to the east side. At this time a child was sleeping near the altar.

The ho´naaite filled an abalone shell with corn pollen and holding the shell, his two eagle plumes, and wand in his left hand and rattle in the right, offered a long prayer to Quer´ränna to invoke the cloud people to water the earth, and sprinkled the altar several times with pollen. At the close of the prayer he handed the shell of pollen to the woman, who passed to the front of the altar and east of the meal line and sprinkled the altar with the pollen. The song now began, and the woman, retaining her position before the altar, kept time by moving her wand right and left, then extending it over the altar; each time before waving it over the altar she rested it on the shell for a moment; after repeating the motion several times, she extended the wand to the north, moving it right and left, and after resting it on the shell she extended it to the west, and the wand was in this way motioned to the cardinal points, zenith and nadir. The waving of the wand to the points was repeated four times; and the woman then returned the shell to the ho´naaite, who had at intervals waved his plumes and wand over the altar. At this time the child awoke, and making a wad of his blanket sat upon it between the ho´naaite and the vicar; the latter supplying the child with a wand and rattle, he joined in the song.

The vicar being afflicted with paralysis could add little to the ceremony, though he made strenuous efforts to sing and sway his palsied body. The group presented a pitiful picture, but it exhibited a striking proof of the devotion of these people to the observance of their cult—the flickering fire-light playing in lights and shadows about the heads of the three members, over whom Time holds the scythe with grim menaces, while they strained every nerve to make all that was possible of the ritual they were celebrating; the boy, requiring no arousing to sing and bend his tiny body to the time of the rattle, joined in the calls 115upon the cloud people to gather to water the earth with as much enthusiasm as his elders.

The song continued, with all standing, without cessation for an hour. The woman then brought a vase of water and gourd from the southwest corner of the room and placed it in front of the altar on the line of meal, and the ho´naaite took from the west side of the altar four medicine bags, handing two to the man and two to the boy (pollen being in one bag and meal in the other), and giving the shell containing the pollen to the woman. She stood in front of the altar east of the line of meal swaying her body from side to side, holding her wand in the right hand and the shell in the left, keeping time to the rattle and the song. She emptied a gourd of water from the vase into the medicine bowl, imploring Quer´ränna to intercede with the cloud people to assemble; the ho´naaite then sprinkled se´wili into the medicine bowl; then the little boy sprinkled pollen into the bowl, invoking the cloud people to gather, and the vicar, with the same petition, sprinkled the pollen. The woman then emptied a second gourd of water, first waving it to the north, into the medicine bowl, with a call for the cloud people to gather; the ho´naaite again deposited a portion of the se´wili into the bowl and his vicar and the boy sprinkled in meal, with an appeal to the cloud people; again the woman lifted a gourdful of water and waved it toward the west and emptied it into the bowl, invoking the cloud people to gather; and the others sprinkled corn pollen, the vicar and boy calling upon the cloud people to gather; the woman then waved a gourd of water to the south and emptied it into the bowl, and again the others sprinkled pollen, the vicar and boy repeating their petition; another gourdful was lifted and waved to the east and emptied into the bowl and the sprinkling of the pollen was repeated. The woman returned the vase to the farther end of the room (she officiated in the making of the medicine water, as the vicar, being a paralytic, was unable to perform this duty), and resumed her seat back of the altar; reaching forward, she removed two small medicine bags, and taking a pinch of pollen from one and a pinch of meal from the other, sprinkled the medicine water; after repeating the sprinkling, she tied the bags and returned them to their place by the altar. The ho´naaite, dipping his plumes into the medicine bowl, sprinkled the altar three times by striking the top of the plumes held in the left hand with the rattle held in the right. The sprinkling was repeated three times by the others while the ho´naaite sang a low chant. All now rose, and the ho´naaite continuing the song, moved his body violently, the motion being from the knees; as he sang he extended his eagle plumes over the altar and dipped them into the medicine water with a call for the cloud people to gather; he then dipped the bird feathers attached to his wand into the medicine water with a similar exhortation; the boy dipped the feathers attached to his wand into the water, striking them with the rattle, calling upon the cloud people to gather and water the earth; the ho´naaite116 dipped his eagle plumes twice consecutively into the medicine water, invoking the cloud people to water the earth; and the vicar dipped his feathers into the medicine water, making the most revolting sounds in his efforts to invoke the cloud people; the boy sprinkled with the invocation to the cloud people. The sprinkling was repeated alternately six times by each of the members, the ho´naaite pointing to the cardinal points as he continued his exhortation to the cloud people. After resuming their seats they sang until midnight, when the ho´naaite placed the ends of his feathers into his mouth and drew a breath and the woman laid her wand to the east side of the meal painting. The ceremonial closed with administering the medicine water, the ho´naaite dipping it with a shell. Owing to the depleted condition of the society, the duty of depositing the hä´chamoni and plume offerings fell to the ho´naaite himself.

OTHER SOCIETIES.

In addition to the thirteen cult societies of the Zuñi they have the society of the Kok´-ko, the mythologic society.

It is obligatory that all youths become members of this society to insure their admittance into the dance house in the lake of departed spirits; first by involuntary and later by voluntary initiation. Females sometimes, though seldom, join this order. While the Sia mythology abounds in these same anthropomorphic beings, their origin is accounted for in an entirely different manner from those of the Zuñi. The Ka´ᵗsuna of the Sia were created by Ût´sĕt in a single night in the lower world.[22] These beings accompanied the Sia to this world, and upon their advent here Ût´sĕt directed them to go to the west and there make their home for all time to come.

They are solicited to use their influence with the cloud people, and the dances of the Ka´ᵗsuna are usually held for rain or snow. It is the prerogative of the ti´ämoni to control the appearance of the Ka´ᵗsuna. When a dance is to occur, the ho´naaite of the Society of Quer´ränna selects such men and women as he wishes to have dance and holds a number of rehearsals, both of the songs and dances. Those who are the most graceful, and who have the greatest powers of endurance and the most retentive memories for the songs, are chosen to personate the Ka´ᵗsuna regardless of any other consideration. Both sexes, however, must have been first initiated into the mysteries of the Ka´ᵗsuna.

Previous to initiation the personators are believed by the Sia to be the actual Ka´ᵗsuna. The instruction continues from four to eight days, and during this period continency must be observed, and an emetic drank by the married men and women each morning for purification from conjugal relations.

Whenever the Ka´ᵗsuna appear they are accompanied by their attendants, 117the Ko´shairi and Quer´ränna, who wait upon them, attending to any disarranged apparel and making the spectators merry with their witty sayings and buffoonery.

The Sia have a great variety of masks, which must be very old, judging from their appearance, and the priest of the Quer´ränna, who has them in charge, claims for them great antiquity. Pls. xxxi and xxxii illustrate some masks of the Ka´ᵗsuna.

When a boy or girl reaches the time when, as their fathers say, they have a good head, some ten or twelve years of age, the father first suggests to the ho´naaite of the Quer´ränna (if the father is not living then the mother speaks) that he would like his son or daughter to become acquainted with the Ka´ᵗsuna; he then makes known his wish to the ti´ämoni, and after these two have said, “It is well,” he says to his child, “My child, I think it is time for you to know the Ka´ᵗsuna,” and the child replies, “It is well, father.” The parent then informs the ho´naaite that his child wishes to know the Ka´ᵗsuna, and the ho´naaite replies, “It is well.” The next time the Ka´ᵗsuna come he may know them.

The ho´naaite prepares a meal painting for the occasion, covering it for the time being with a blanket. Upon the arrival of the Ka´ᵗsuna the father and child, and, if the child be a member of a cult society, the theurgist of the society, proceed to the ceremonial house of the Quer´ränna. If the child possesses a fetich of the ya´ya he carries it pressed to his breast. Upon entering the ceremonial chamber the child and attendants take their seats at the north end of the room near the west side, the ho´naaite of the Quer´ränna sitting just west of the meal painting, the boy to his right, and the parent next to the boy. The ti´ämoni and ho´naaite of warriors are present and sit on the west side of the room and about midway. The Sa´iahlia (two of the Ka´ᵗsuna) stamp about in the middle of the room for a time, then the ho´naaite leads the child before the meal painting, which is, however, still covered with the blanket, and says to the Ka´ᵗsuna, “A youth [or maiden, whichever it may be] has come to know you.” The Ka´ᵗsuna each carry a bunch of Spanish bayonet in either hand, and the child receives two strokes across the back from each of the Ka´ᵗsuna, unless he be an official member of a cult society; in this case he is exempt from the chastisement. A boy is nude excepting the breechcloth; a girl wears her ordinary clothing. The ho´naaite, addressing the Ka´ᵗsuna, says: “Now it is well for you to raise your masks that the child may see.” One of the Sa´iahlia places his mask over the child’s head and the other lays his by the meal painting, the ho´naaite having removed the blanket. The personators of the Kaᵗsuna then say to the child: “Now you know the Ka´ᵗsuna you will henceforth have only good thoughts and a good heart; sometime, perhaps, you will be one of us. You must not speak of these things to anyone not initiated.” The mask is then taken from the child’s head and laid by the side of the other,118 and the boy answers: “I will not speak of these things to anyone.” The Ka´ᵗsuna then rubs the meal of the painting upon the child, and those present afterwards gather around the painting and rub the meal upon their bodies for mental and physical purification. The child deposits the hä´chamoni presented to him by the ho´naaite at the shrine of the Quer´ränna at the base of the village and to the west. The hä´chamoni is composed of eagle and turkey plumes. The child says when depositing it, “I now know you, Ka´ᵗsuna, and I pay you this hä´chamoni.” The ho´naaite deposits a hä´chamoni for each member of the society at the shrine, which is in a fissure in a rock, and after the deposition of the hä´chamoni the opening is covered with a rock and no evidence of a shrine remains.

SOCIETY OF THE COUGAR.

This society is nearly extinct, its membership consisting of the ho´naaite (the oracle) and his vicar, the former being also ho´naaite of the society of warriors; though aged, he retains his faculties perfectly and performs his official and religious duties with the warmest interest.

Previous to a hunt for game a two days’ ceremonial is held by this society, and on the third morning hä´chamoni and plume offerings are deposited by the vice ho´naaite. The cougar is appealed to, as he is the great father and master of all game; he draws game to him by simply sitting still, folding his arms, and mentally demanding the presence of the game; likewise when he wishes to send game to any particular people he controls it with his mind and not by spoken words. Though the cougar sends the game it is the sun who gives power to the Sia to capture it.

It is the prerogative of the ho[naaite of this society to decide upon the time for the hunt. Hä´chamoni are deposited to the cougar of the north, the west, the south, the east to convey the messages of the Sia. If a rabbit hunt is to occur a rabbit stick and an arrow point are deposited as offerings to the sun. The offerings to the cougar of the zenith are deposited to the north and those to the sun to the east. If the hunt is to be for larger game an arrow point only is deposited to the sun. The hunt may occur very soon after these offerings are made or not for some time, it being optional with the ho´naaite. He does not directly notify the people, but speaks to the war chief, who heralds his message. When announcement has been made of the prospective hunt a fire is made at night on the east side of the village and the selected huntsmen form in a circle around it; here the night is spent making plans for the hunt, in epic songs, and story telling, and, like other Indians, the Sia recount the valorous deeds of the mythical beings and their people in low, modulated tones. The hunt occurs four days from this time, and continency is observed until after the hunt. On the fifth morning, if the hunt be for rabbits, the men and women of the village prepare to join in the chase by first having their heads bathed 119in yucca suds and then donning their best apparel; only men hunt for the larger game. Rabbits are hunted on horseback with rabbit sticks; deer, on foot and with the rifle in preference to the arrow.

A party of hunters which had been indicated by the war chief to hunt for deer and antelope left the village in the afternoon, the party being led by the vice war chief. The ti´ämoni was a member of the party. The writer mentions this as it is unusual for a ti´ämoni to participate in the hunt, and it is claimed by the Sia that if their ti´ämoni were not a mere boy he would observe the custom of his predecessors and decline to join in the hunt. The scarcity of game in this part of the country necessitated a three days’ journey before any was obtained.

Previous to the departure of the party the ho´naaite of the society of the cougar visited the house of each man who was to participate in the hunt and embraced him, repeating a short prayer for success. The prayer was addressed first to the cougar, father of game, that he might send his children about the country, and afterwards to the sun to give power to the hunters to secure the game. The wives and relatives of the hunting party had been busy preparing food for them; each man’s wife looked carefully after his personal needs. The wife handed the hunter’s gun to him after he had mounted his horse, the unmarried man of the party having his gun handed him by his father.

The huntsmen were absent thirteen days, and upon their return a member of the party was sent in advance as courier to notify the war chief. The news brought general delight to the villagers, particularly to the wives of the hunters, who at once commenced preparing for their arrival. They reached the river about sundown, and upon crossing were received by the vice ho´naaite of the society of warriors and the war chief, who offered prayers and sprinkled meal in thanksgiving for the success and safe return of the hunters who grouped on the bank of the river. The younger children of the returning party were also on the river bank to meet their fathers, who at once took their little ones on the horses with them and expressed much delight at again seeing them. The huntsmen then in single file ascended the hill to the village, led by the vicar of the society of warriors and the war chief, the latter two being on foot, the war chief following the vicar. A man whose house was at the entrance of the plaza dropped out of the file to go to his home, and by the time he had reached the door his wife was outside to receive his gun and other luggage which he bore; this was the only greeting between the husband and wife. After the horsemen had crossed the plaza a second man entered his home, he being the vicar of the society of the cougar and son of the vicar of the society of warriors. The war chief then led the party until but one horseman remained, who upon reaching his home was assisted by the war chief in relieving himself and animal of their burden. Several of the women of the village embraced the ti´ämoni after he had dismounted, who, however,120 seemed perfectly absorbed in his infant daughter, his wife’s greeting, like those of the other wives, being simply to take first his gun and then his other traps from his horse.

The ho´naaite of the cougar society visited the houses of all the returned hunters, first entering the house of his vicar. The young man stood in the center of the room and the ho´naaite embraced him and repeated a prayer of thanksgiving for his success in the hunt and his safe return. The old man was then assisted to a seat upon a wadded blanket and the father of the hunter spread a sheepskin upon the floor, wool side down, and emptied the contents of the sack which was taken from the hunter’s horse upon it, which was nothing more than the desiccated meat and bones of an antelope. The aged man then took from his pouch a fetich of the cougar, about 3 inches long, and touching it to the meat of the antelope many times prayed most earnestly for several minutes. His prayers were addressed to the cougar, thanking him for his goodness in sending his children over the land that the Sia might secure them as payment to the cloud people for watering the earth.

In the next house visited the meat of the antelope was spread upon a bear’s skin, the hair down. The skin of the antelope was folded lengthwise and laid by the side of the meat, and the skull and antlers placed at one end. The wife of the hunter laid over the skull many strings of coral, ko´haqua, and turkis beads, and afterwards spread a white embroidered Tusayan blanket over the carcass. A small bowl of sacred meal was deposited in front of the head. The aged ho´naaite repeated a prayer similar to the one he offered in the first house, not omitting placing the fetich to the antelope; he then clasped his hands four times over the skull of the antelope and drew a breath, after which the hunter lighted a cigarette for the ho´naaite who blew the first whiff over the antelope and extended the cigarette toward it. The ho´naaite repeated the prayer in the houses of the four successful hunters. The other two men were not overlooked, as he embraced them and repeated a prayer of thanksgiving for their safe return.[23] The war chief visited all of the houses, but did nothing more than sprinkle the antelope with corn pollen, drawing in a sacred breath from the game, puffing the first whiff of his cigarette over it and extending the cigarette toward it.

When the game is shot, the hunter dips his fetich into the blood, telling it to drink. The blood is often scraped from fetiches and drunk in a little water to insure greater success in the hunt. There are specimens of such fetiches in Mr. Stevenson’s collection in the National Museum. Some students, through their imperfect knowledge, have been led into the error of supposing from their new appearance that these fetiches were of recent manufacture. The game is kept in the houses of the hunters until the following morning, when it is taken to the ceremonial house of the ti´ämoni, the war chief deciding what day it shall 121be distributed among the ho´naaites of the several cult societies. It may be one, two, or three days after the return of the hunters. At the appointed time the ho´naaites assemble in the ceremonial house of the ti´ämoni, who divides the game, each ho´naaite carrying his portion to his ceremonial chamber. About noon of the same day the members of the cult societies assemble in their respective ceremonial chambers and prepare hä´chamoni; at the same time, if the society has any female members, they place the game in a pot and cook it in the fireplace in the ceremonial chamber, but if there be no female members certain male members are designated for this purpose. Toward evening the slat altars are erected, and the night is spent in songs and supplications to the cloud people to gather and water the earth. Hä´chamoni and the game are deposited before sunrise at four shrines—to the cougar of the north, the west, the south, and the east, that they will intercede for the cloud people to gather and water the earth. Hä´chamoni are also deposited to the sun father that he will invoke the cloud people to water the earth, and also that he will embrace the earth that the crops may grow. Others are deposited in the fields as payment to the cloud people for the services requested of them.

SOCIETY OF WARRIORS.

The Society of Warriors and the Knife Society have a ceremonial chamber in common; and in a certain sense these societies are closely allied, the former having had originally as its presiding officers Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ, the twin children of the sun, the latter society having derived its name from the arrows which were given by the sun father to the invulnerable twins, and with which they destroyed the enemies of the earth. Each of these societies, therefore, has a share in the initiation of a victor.

The killing of an enemy is not sufficient to admit a man into the Society of Warriors; he must return with such trophies as the scalp and buckskin apparel. The victor carries the scalp on an arrow until he draws near to the village, when he transfers it to a pole some 5 feet in length, the pole being held with both hands. The victor’s approach is heralded, and if it be after the sun has eaten his midday meal he must not enter the village, but remain near it until morning, food being carried to him by the war chief. In the morning the Society of the Knife, followed by the Warriors and the male populace of the town, join the victor. An extended prayer is offered by the ho´naaite of the Knife Society, and then, addressing the spirit of the enemy, he says: “You are now no longer our enemy; your scalp is here; you will no more destroy my people.” The ho´naaite of the Warriors and his vicar respond, “So! So!” The air is resonant the remainder of the day with the war song, there being occasional intermissions for prayers; and at sundown the ho´naaite of the Warriors and his vicar, with the victor, bearing the pole and scalp between them, lead the way to the village, followed by the members of the society, and then the Knife Society, led by its ho´naaite and122 his vicar. After encircling the village from right to left, the party enters the ceremonial chamber, when the scalp is deposited before the meal painting, the ho´naaite of the Knife Society having prepared the painting and arranged the fetiches about it in the morning before going to meet the victor. The two large stone images of Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ, which are brought out only upon the initiation of a victor into the Society of Warriors, are kept in a room exclusively their own; these particular fetiches of the war heroes are never looked upon by women, consequently they have remained undisturbed in their abiding place a number of years, the exception being when all the fetiches and paraphernalia of the cult of the Sia were displayed in 1887 for Mr. Stevenson’s and the writer’s inspection. The members of the Knife Society sit on the west side of the room and the Warriors on the east side, the ho´naaites of the societies sitting at the north end of either line, each ho´naaite having his vicar by his side, and the victor by the side of the vicar of the Warriors; he does not join in the song, but sits perfectly still. At sunrise the scalp is washed in yucca suds and cold water by each member of the Knife Society, and the victor’s hands are then bathed for the first time since the scalping, and he proceeds to paint his body. The face and lower portion of the legs are colored red and the remainder black, and galena is then spread over the greater portion of the face. The Knife Society wears white cotton embroidered Tusayan kilts and moccasins, and the Warriors wear kilts of unornamented buckskin, excepting the fringes at the bottom and the pouch made from the buckskin apparel captured from the enemy. The victor wears the buckskin kilt, moccasins, and pouch, and he carries a bow and arrows in his left hand, and the pole with the scalp attached to it in the right. Each member of the society also carries a bow and arrows in the left hand and a single arrow in the right. The members of the Knife Society have gourd rattles in their right hands and bows and arrows in the left. The hair of all is left flowing.

An arrow point is placed in the mouth of the victor by the ho´naaite of the Knife Society, and they all then proceed to the plaza, the members of each society forming in a line and the victor dancing to and fro between the lines, raising the scalp as high as the pole will reach, but he does not sing or speak a word. The numbers in the lines are increased by the men of the village carrying war clubs and firearms, keeping up a continual volley with their pistols and guns until the close of the dance at sundown. The women are not debarred from exhibiting their enthusiasm, and they join in the dance.

Upon their return to the ceremonial chamber the scalp is again deposited before the meal painting and the ho´naaite of the Knife Society proceeds with the final epic ritual which completes the initiation of the victor into the Society of Warriors, closing with these words: “You are now a member of the Society of Warriors,” and he then removes the arrow point from the victor’s mouth. The members, in conjunction with the victor, respond “Yes! Yes!”

The cotton shirt and trousers are then donned and the scalp is carried to the scalp-house (a cavity in the earth covered with a mound of stone) and deposited with food for the spirit of the departed enemy. Again returning to the ceremonial chamber, fast is broken for the first time during the day, when a feast, which is served by the female relatives of the victor, is enjoyed. After the meal they go to the river and remove all evidences of the paint upon their bodies. Continency is observed four days.

The few songs of the cult which the writer was able to collect are direct invocations for rain, or for the presence of zoomorphic beings in ceremonials for healing the sick, a few words sufficing for many unexpressed ideas. The epic ritual of the Sia is so elaborate that much time and careful instruction are required to impress it upon the mind, and the younger men either have not the mind necessary for the retention of the ritual or will not tax their memories; therefore the web of Sia myth and religion is woven into the minds of but few.

The aged theurgists were eager to intrust to the writer the keeping of their songs, which are an elaborate record of the lives of their mythic heroes and of the Sia themselves.

The Sia sometimes adopt the poet’s license in their songs and alter a word; for example, the name for “badger” is tuo´pi, but is changed in the sko´yo song for rain to tupi´na, because, they say, the latter word renders the stanza more rhythmical. And, again, different words are synonymously used.

The hĭs´tiän and quer´ränna have each a similar song of petition for rain, this song having been given to the hĭs´tiän by the sun. It will be remembered that the name of this society indicates the knives or arrows of lightning given to the heroes by their sun father.

A RAIN SONG OF THE SHŪ´-WI CHAI´ÄN (SNAKE SOCIETY).

(1) Translation:—Hĕnnati, white floating masks, behind which the cloud people pass about over ti´ni´a for recreation; He´äsh, masks like the plains, behind which the cloud people pass over ti´ni´a to water the earth; Pûrtuwĭshta, lightning people; Kŏwmots, thunder people; Kashtiarts, rainbow people; Ka´chard, rain, the word being used in this instance, however, as an emphatic invocation to the rulers of the cloud people.

Free translation:—An appeal to the priests of ti´nia. Let the white floating clouds—the clouds like the plains—the lightning, thunder, rainbow, and cloud peoples, water the earth. Let the people of the white floating clouds—the people of the clouds like the plains—the lightning, thunder, rainbow and cloud peoples—come and work for us, and water the earth.

Translation:—Sha´kaka, spruce of the north; Shwi´tirawana, pine of the west. Mai´china, oak of the south. Shwi´sinihanawe, aspen of the east. Marsh´titämo, cedar of the zenith; Mor´ritämo, oak of the nadir.

Free translation:—Cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia through the heart of the spruce of the north; cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia through the heart of the pine of the west; cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia through the heart of the oak of the south; cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia through the heart of the aspen of the east; cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia through the heart of the cedar of the zenith; cloud priest who ascends to ti´nia, through the heart of the oak of the nadir; send your people to work for us, that the waters of the six great springs may impregnate our mother, the earth, that she may give to us the fruits of her being.

Though the trees of the cardinal points are addressed, the supplication is understood to be made to priestly rulers of the cloud peoples of the cardinal points.

Free translation:—All the white floating clouds—all the clouds like the plains—all the lightning, thunder, rainbow and cloud peoples, come and work for us.

A SONG OF THE SHŪ´WI CHAI´ÄN (SNAKE SOCIETY) FOR HEALING THE SICK.

Translation:—Snake Society of the north, Snake Society of the west, Snake Society of the south, Snake Society of the east, Snake Society of the zenith, Snake Society of the nadir, come here and work with us.

An appeal to the ho´-naaites of the snake societies of the cardinal points to be present and work for the curing of the sick.

An appeal to the animals of the cardinal points to be present at the ceremonial of healing.

An appeal to the ho´naaites of the animal societies of the cardinal points to be present at the ceremonial.

A RAIN SONG OF THE SKO´YO CHAI´ÄN (GIANT SOCIETY).

Free translation:—We, the ancient ones, ascended from the middle of the world below, through the door of the entrance to the lower world, we hold our songs to the cloud, lightning, and thunder peoples as we hold our own hearts; our medicine is precious. (Addressing the people of ti´nia:) We entreat you to send your thoughts to us that we may sing your songs straight, so that they will pass over the straight road to the cloud priests that they may cover the earth with water, so that she may bear all that is good for us.

Lightning people, send your arrows to the middle of the earth, hear the echo (meaning that the thunder people are flapping their wings among the cloud and lightning peoples). Who is it (the singers pointing to the north)? The people of the spruce of the north. All your people and your thoughts come to us. Who is it? People of the white floating clouds. Your thoughts come to us, all your people and your thoughts come to us. Who is it (pointing above)? People of the clouds like the plains. Your thought comes to us. Who is it? The lightning people. Your thoughts come to us. Who is it? Cloud people at the horizon. All your people and your thoughts come to us.

A SONG OF THE SKO´YO CHAI´ÄN (GIANT SOCIETY) FOR HEALING THE SICK.

Free translation:—Lion of the north, see the sand painting which you have given us (a voice is heard). Who is it? “The lion.” I am but your theurgist; you possess all power; lend me your mind and your heart that I may penetrate the flesh and discover the disease. Through me, your theurgist, take away all disease.

A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

Free translation:—Corn pollen pass over the north road[24] to the spring of the north mountain, that the cloud people may ascend from the spring in the heart of the mountain to ti´nia and water the earth. The same is repeated for the five remaining cardinal points.

A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

1. Where are all the cloud people of the spring or heart of the spruce of the north? There in the north [the singers pointing to the north].

2. Where are all the cloud people of the pine of the west? There in the west [the singers pointing to the west].

3. Where are all the cloud people of the great oak of the south? There in the south [the singers pointing to the south].

4. Where are all the cloud people of the aspen of the east? There in the east [the singers pointing to the east].

5. Where are all the cloud people of the cedar of the zenith? There in the zenith [the singers pointing upward].

6. Where are all the cloud people of the nadir? There [the singers pointing to the earth].

PORTION OF A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

An appeal to the animals of the cardinal points to intercede with the cloud people to water the earth. This song is long and elaborate. It begins by stating that their people, the cougar people and the others mentioned, ascended to ha´arts, the earth, through the opening, shi´papo, in the north. It then recounts various incidents in the lives of these beings, with appeals at intervals for their intercession with the cloud people.

A RAIN SONG OF THE QUER´RÄNNA CHAI´ÄN.

Free translation:—White floating clouds. Clouds like the plains come and water the earth. Sun embrace the earth that she may be fruitful. Moon, lion of the north, bear of the west, badger of the south, wolf of the east, eagle of the heavens, shrew of the earth, elder war hero, younger war hero, warriors of the six mountains of the world, intercede with the cloud people for us, that they may water the earth. Medicine bowl, cloud bowl, and water vase give us your hearts, that the earth may be watered. I make the ancient road of meal, that my song may pass straight over it—the ancient road. White shell bead woman who lives where the sun goes down, mother whirlwind, father Sûs´sĭstĭnnako, mother Ya´ya, creator of good thoughts, yellow woman of the north, blue woman of the west, red woman of the south, white woman of the east, slightly yellow woman of the zenith, and dark woman of the nadir, I ask your intercession with the cloud people.

PRAYER FOR SICK INFANT.

While the Sia have great faith in the power of their theurgists, individually they make efforts to save the lives of their dear ones even after the failure of the theurgist. Such is their belief in the supplications 131of the good of heart, that the vice-theurgist of the Snake Society, who is one of the writer’s staunchest friends, rode many miles to solicit her prayers for his ill infant. He placed in her hand a tiny package of shell mixture done up in a bit of corn husk, and, clasping the hand with both of his, he said: “Your heart being good, your prayers travel fast to the sun and Ko´pĭshtaia.” He, then, in the most impressive manner, repeated the following prayer:

(1) Ku-chŏr-pĭsh-tai-a (2) Ku-chŏr-na-tä-ni (3) Ku´ti ot se ä ta (4) Pai´-ä-tä-mo ki-ᵗchän-ni (5) Ha´-mi ha´-notch (6) U-wa mash-ta-ñi (7) Ka´a-wĭnck (8) Ya´-ya (9) U-ä-mûts (10 Ka´-a-wĭinck (11) Sha´-mi wĭnck (12) U-we-chai-ni (13) Ñi na mats (14) ñi to ñi (15) ᵗsi tu ma ñi to ñi (16) Na´ wai pi cha.

Explanation of prayer by governor for his sick child.

(1) Your thoughts and heart are united with Ko´pĭshtaia; you daily draw the sacred breath of life.

(2) Your thoughts are great and pass first over the road to the sun father and Ko´pĭshtaia.

(6) You will be to the child as a mother, and the child will be as your own for all time to come; your thoughts will always be for one another.

(7) The hearts of ourselves and the child be united and as one heart henceforth; those of us who pray for the child will be known by the child and the child by us, even though the child has not been seen by us; we will know one another by our hearts and the child will greet you as——

(10) That the hearts of ourselves and the child’s be united and as one heart; henceforth those of us who pray for this child will be known by the child and the child by us; though the child has not been seen by us, we will know one another by our hearts.

(12) May all good words come straight from his heart and pass over the straight road.

When one is ill from the heat of the sun he sprinkles corn pollen or meal to the sun, saying, “Father, I am ill in my head, it reaches my heart; I pay you with this meal; I give it to you as food, and will be thankful to you to take away my malady.”

One of the most sacred and exclusive rites of the Sia is associated with childbirth.

The accouchement here described was observed in May, 1890, at this pueblo. Upon discovering the woman to be in a state of gestation, the writer made every effort to obtain her consent, and that of the doctress and members of her family to be present at the birth of the child. She kept vigilant watch upon the woman and on the morning of the twenty-second learned that the event was imminent.

Upon inquiring of the father of the women the same morning why he did not go to the fields, he replied, “I can only sit and wait for the little one to come; I must be with my daughter.” He was busy during the day making beads of bits of shells, reducing them to the proper size by rubbing them on a flat stone, afterwards piercing each piece by means of a rotary drill. The following day he sat weaving a band to tie his grandson’s hair. The woman worked as usual with her sewing and prepared the family meals.

After the evening meal (which was some time before dark) on the 22d, the family, consisting of the parents of the woman to be confined, her husband and two boys of 8 and 9 years, gathered in the family living room (this room being 15 by 35 feet). It was evident that the woman was regarded with great consideration and interest, especially by her fond parents, who by the way, were foster parents, the woman being a Navajo. At the time of the removal of the Navajo to the Bosque Redondo, this child was left by her mother in the pueblo of Sia and has since lived with her foster parents.

On the evening of the 23d they gathered as before into the living room, which had been specially prepared for the event. A small quantity of raw cotton, a knife, and a string lay upon a shelf, and the infant’s small wardrobe, consisting of a tiny sheet of white cotton, pieces of calico and a diminutive Navajo blanket, which were gifts to the child, were laid on a table in the farther end of the room. The family sat in anxious expectancy.

It is the woman’s privilege to select her officiating ho´naaite theurgist, and if her husband or father be a ho´naaite, or vicar of a cult society, she usually selects one or the other, otherwise she requests her husband to visit the ho´naaite of her choice and ask his services; in the absence of her husband her brother goes. The woman, holding shell mixture[26] in her right hand (when meal or shell mixture is used in connection with the dead it is held in the left hand), breathes four times upon it, that the expected child may have a good heart and walk over one straight road, and then hands it to the bearer of her message to be presented to the ho´naaite, this shell mixture being the only compensation received for his services.

At 8 o’clock she was seized with the first stage of labor, and her mother at once made a fire in the fireplace, and a low, heavy stool, cut from a solid block, was placed in front of it. The woman took her seat upon the stool, with her back to the fire, wearing her cotton gown, woven dress and belt, and a small blanket around her.

The doctress (Fig. 19) and sister of the woman’s husband, who had been summoned, arrived almost immediately. The father and husband removed their moccasins and the women had their legs and feet bare. The father took his seat upon a low chair in front of his daughter, the doctress sat to her left, clasping an ear of yellow and purple corn, and the writer by the side of the doctress, holding a medicine-stone which had been given her some days previously by the doctress to be used on this occasion. The husband sat upon his wadded blanket against the wall, and by his side were his two sons and his sister, she having with her an infant and a child some 2 years of age. The night was warm and the door of the room was left open.

The ho´naaite laid three small buckskin medicine bags on the floor in front of him (one containing shell mixture, another the pollen of edible and medicinal plants, and the third a plant medicine powdered), and, holding the quill ends of two eagle plumes between his hands, he repeated in a low tone the following prayer;

I´-i-wa-u-wak´ nai´-she-eh shan´-nai ha´-arts. Nai´-she-eh pitonipina-mu-ᵗsa. Na´-wai-pi-cha-u-wak. I-i-wa-u-wak´, na´-wai-pi-cha-u-wak.

Mĭsh´-ᵗcha hätch-ᵗse ko´-ta-wa oh-wi-chai-ni u-wak. Nŏw´-a-muts Pi-to-ni p´i-na-mu-ᵗsa. Ya´-ya ko´pĭsh-tai-a ha´-arts shan´-nai Nai´-she-eh u-wak´, pi-to-ni pi-na-mu-ᵗsa.

The unexpressed idea is that the child is to be received upon its sand bed, which is symbolic of the lap of its mother earth. That it will be as one without eyes, and it will not know its father’s Ko´pĭshtaia. May the Ko´pĭshtaia make its heart to know them.

Free translation: “Here is the child’s sand bed. May the child have good thoughts and know its mother earth, the giver of food. May it have good thoughts and grow from childhood to manhood. May the child be beautiful and happy. Here is the child’s bed; may the child be beautiful and happy. Ashes man, let me make good medicine for the child. We will receive the child into our arms, that it may be happy and contented. May it grow from childhood to manhood. May it know its mother Ût´sĕt, the Ko´pĭshtaia, and its mother earth. May the child have good thoughts and grow from childhood to manhood. May it be beautiful and happy.”

He then gave a pinch of the powdered-plant medicine to the woman for the good health of the woman and child, and her mother, lifting ashes from the fireplace with her right hand, deposited them upon the floor in front of the woman. The father, then, standing, dipped the ashes with his eagle plumes, holding one in either hand, and, striking the under side of the plume held in the left hand with the one held in the right, threw the ashes to the cardinal points. Each time, after throwing the ashes, he passed the plumes down each side of the woman. When the plumes are struck the ho´naaite says: Mĭsh´ᵗcha hätch´ᵗse kótawa ohwichaini u´wak—“Ashes man, permit me to make good medicine for the child.”

The ho´naaite discovers the diseased parts of the body through the instrumentality of ashes, and with the scattering of ashes to the cardinal points, physical and mental impurities are cast from those present and the chamber is also purified.

Again the sprinkling of the ashes was repeated, but instead of running the plumes down each side of the woman, the ho´naaite held them in his right hand while he stood to the right of the woman and, pointing the feather ends down, began at the top of the head and passed the plumes in a direct line in front and down the center of the body, with a prayer for the safe delivery of the child. At the close of this ceremony the doctress stood to the right side of the woman, and, placing the tip end of the corn to the top of her head, blew upon it and passed that also in a straight line down the center of the body, with a prayer that the child might pass through the road of life promptly and safely. This was repeated four times, when the doctress returned to her seat. The ho´naaite then offered a short prayer and placed a pinch of medicine in the woman’s mouth, after which he left the house and went to the end of the placita and sprinkled meal to the east, praying that the sun father might bestow blessings upon the child. In a short time the woman passed down the long room, apparently in considerable pain, but bearing herself with dignified composure. Her mother135 brought a cloth to the point where the ceremony had been held and emptied the contents (sand) upon the floor, and with her hands flattened the mound into a circle of 20 inches in diameter and some 5 inches deep. On this she laid a small black sheepskin, the sister-in-law placed a bowl of water upon coals in the fireplace, and the mother afterward brought a vase of water and gourd and set it by the side of the fireplace. A urinal was deposited beyond the center of the room, and still beyond was a vase of fresh water. The mother spread a wool mattress at the south end of the room and upon it a blanket, and in the center of the blanket a black sheepskin, and a wool pillow was laid at the head; a rich Navajo blanket was folded and laid by the side of this bed. Now, all was in readiness and an early delivery was evidently expected. The woman would sit for a time either upon a low stool or a chair, and then pass about in evident pain, but no word of complaint escaped her lips; she was majestic in her dignity. But few words were spoken by anyone; all minds seemed centered on the important event to come. “It was a sacred hour, too sacred for spoken words, for Sûs´sĭstinnako was to bestow the gift of a new life.”

The whole affair was conducted with the greatest solemnity. At 11 o’clock the woman, whose suffering was now extreme, changed the small blanket which she wore around her for a larger one, which fell from her shoulders to the floor, and stood before the fireplace while the doctress standing behind her violently manipulated her abdomen with the palms of her hands. (The Zuñi observe a very different mode of manipulation.) The ho´naaite, who no longer acted professionally, but simply as the devoted father of the woman, took his seat upon a stool on the far side of the sand bed from the fireplace, the woman kneeling on the sand bed with her back to the fireplace and the doctress sitting on a low stool back of the woman. The woman clasped her hands about her father’s neck and was supported at the back by the doctress, who, encircling the woman with her arms, pressed upon the abdomen.[27] The father clasped his hands around his knees, holding a stone fetich of a cougar in the palm of the right hand, and the sister-in-law, standing to the left of the woman, placed the ear of corn to the top of the sufferer’s head and blew upon it during the periods of pain, to hasten the birth of the child. The prayer that was blown into the head was supposed to pass directly through the passageway of life. After each paroxysm the woman rose and passed about the room in a calm, quiet way. Sometimes she would sit on a low chair; again she would sit in front of the fire toasting her bare feet, and then leaving the extremely warm room 136would walk about outside of the house. The pains were very frequent for three hours, the longest interval being thirty minutes, the shortest thirty seconds, the average being ten minutes, the pains continuing from three to twenty minutes. Though her suffering was great, nothing more than a smothered groan escaped her lips. The doctress seemed perfectly ignorant and unable to render any real assistance.

The only attempt made by the doctress to hasten the birth was an occasional manipulation of the abdomen, after which she placed the ear of corn at the head of the woman, and after blowing upon it passed it down the middle of the body four times, as before, and the heating of the person by heaping a few coals upon the floor and putting upon them cobwebs, the woman standing over the coals while the mother held the blanket close around her feet. This failing in its desired effect, scrapings from one of the beams in an old chamber were placed on coals, the woman standing over the coals. It is claimed by the Sia that these two remedies are very old and were used when the world was new. After a time a third remedy was tried—the fat of a castrated sheep was put on coals heaped in a small bowl, the woman also standing over this—but all these remedies failed. The woman occasionally assisted herself with a circular stick 4 inches in length wrapped with cotton. After 2 o’clock a. m. the father became so fatigued that the sister-in-law, instead of blowing upon the corn, stood back of him and supported his forehead with her clasped hands. The ear of corn, when not in use, lay beside the sand bed. As the night waned the woman gradually became more and more exhausted, and at half past two the mother laid several sheepskins upon the floor and on these a blanket, placing two pillows at the head of this pallet, and then taking a pinch of meal from the bowl which was at the right side of the bed, which had been prepared for use after the birth, put it into the right hand of the woman, who now knelt upon the sand bed, leaning upon her father’s shoulder while he, in the deepest emotion, stroked her head. As the woman received the meal she raised her head and the sister-in-law handed the ear of corn to the father, who held it between his hands and prayed, then running the corn from the crown of the woman’s head down the body in a direct line and holding it vertically while the woman sprinkled the meal upon it and prayed to Ût´sět that she might pass safely through the trials of parturition. She was now so exhausted that she was compelled to lie on the pallet; twice she raised from the pallet and took position for delivery.

The two babies of the sister-in-law slept on blankets, and the two sons of the woman who had been sent from the room early in the evening had returned and were also sleeping on rugs. At 4 o’clock the parents, in alarm at the interrupted labor, sent for a prominent ho´naaite, and the husband of the woman, who had left the room at the approach of extreme labor. The husband, in company with the ho´naaite, soon appeared, the former removing both his moccasins, the latter the137 one from his right foot only. The newly arrived ho´naaite sent the sister-in-law for a small bowl of water, and into this he sprinkled a pinch of medicine (a specimen of this root was obtained) and then requested the woman to drink the water. It was with difficulty that she stood while she drank the medicine, and allowed the ho´naaite to practice his occult power, blowing upon the head and then blowing in a straight line down the center and in front of the body. The blowing was repeated four times, when the ho´naaite, standing back of the woman, put his arms around her, pressing hard upon the abdomen. After repeating a short prayer he replaced his moccasin and left the room, and the woman sank exhausted to her pallet, where she lay in a semi-conscious condition until half past 5 in the morning.

Fetiches of Quer´ränna and of the cougar had been placed under her pillow and a third fetich (a concretion) in her right hand. The father kept a constant vigil, while the anxious mother moved quietly about seeking to relieve the woman by many little attentions. The mental agony of the parents was great, the more intense sufferer being the father, whose devotion to his daughter through her entire illness seemed without precedent. At half past 5 the woman opened her eyes and, raising herself, clasped her father’s neck and made another great effort, and failing, she returned to her pallet, weeping from sheer discouragement. After a time the mother induced her to sit up and take food; a basket of waiavi and a piece of jerked meat which had been broiled over the coals in the same room were placed by the bed, when the mother hastened to another room for the corn-meal gruel she had prepared. (During the time this gruel is boiling it is dipped with a gourd and held high and poured back into the pot; after it is removed from the fire it is passed through this same process for some time. When it is ready to drink it is light and frothy. The mixture is composed of corn meal and water.) The woman ate quite heartily and drank two bowlfuls of the gruel. She had hardly finished her meal when she requested her father to hasten to his seat, and kneeling upon the sand bed she clasped his neck as before; the pain lasted but a minute and she returned to her bed. She was scarcely down, however, when she jumped up and knelt beside the pallet, the child being born by the time the woman’s knees had reached the floor, the birth occurring at half past 6 o’clock. The excitement was great, as the birth at this moment was a surprise. The father was too absorbed in his daughter to think much of the infant, but the old mother was frantic for fear the child would be smothered. The writer was called to hasten and rub the father’s moccasin down the woman’s back; the toe of the moccasin must be downward. This was to hasten the passage of the placenta, which promptly followed. A sheepskin was with difficulty gotten under the child, and finally the skin was pushed forward as the woman raised herself, and the child was taken by the doctress. The woman stood while the doctress raised the child and138 the sister-in-law the placenta four times to her face, as she expressed the wish that the umbilical cord might be severed without danger to the child. She then deliberately removed her belt and woven dress and walked to the bed which had been prepared for her and lay down.

The husband of the woman gave an extra sharpening to the knife which had lain upon the shelf, and handed it to the doctress, who, first placing the child upon the sand-bed, tied the umbilical cord an inch and a quarter from the umbilicus, and after cutting it removed the child, while the sister-in-law laid the placenta upon the sheepskin and swept the sands of the sand-bed upon a piece of cloth, placing the latter on the back of one of the little boys. Taking half of the raw cotton from the shelf, she laid it on the placenta, with the wish that the umbilicus might soon be healed; and folding the sheepskin, she deposited it in a shallow bowl, and taking a pinch of shell mixture in her right hand she carried the bowl from the house, followed by the boy. The sand and placenta were cast into the river; the woman saying, “Go! and when other women bear children may they promptly follow,” referring to the placenta.

To the doctress was brought a bowl of warm water, with which she bathed the child; then a bowl containing yucca and a small quantity of cold water and a vase of warm water were set by her, and after making a suds with the yucca she added warm water and thoroughly cleansed the child’s head, and then bathed the child a second time, in yucca suds, and taking water into her mouth from the bowl, she threw a solid stream over the child for a remarkable length of time. The child was rubbed with the hand, no cloth being used in the bathing. The greatest care was observed in cleansing the infant, who was afterward wrapped in a blanket and patted dry. During the bathing the grandparents, father, and brothers of the little one looked admiringly upon it, with frequent expressions of delight. The remaining portion of the umbilical cord was drawn through a wad of raw cotton, which was wrapped closely about it, and ashes were then rubbed over the child. The infant, a boy, weighed some 8 or 9 pounds, and its head was covered with a profusion of black silky hair; it had quite a perceptible red mark covering the center of its forehead. It seemed brighter from its birth than children of civilized parentage, and when twenty days old was as observing as many of our children at two months.

The cradle was brought forward by the grandfather, and the diminutive Navajo blanket spread over it. The tiny sheet was laid on the doctress’s lap under the child. The writer was then requested to rise and receive the child; and as she held the little one wrapped in the sheet the grandfather offered a prayer of thanksgiving, and after sprinkling meal upon the writer gave her a pinch of it. She could not dream what was expected of her, but she ventured to make four lines on the child’s breast, and sprinkled the remainder of the meal to the east. The venture was a happy one, for it was just right. The grandfather139 said: “The child is yours; I make it a gift to you.” The writer then returned the child to the doctress, and the grandfather proceeded to arrange the cradle, which has a transverse ridge, provided with a niche for the neck. Two bits of calico, folded several times, were laid on the blanket, and on this a piece of white cotton. The infant was placed nude upon its bed, and a piece of white cotton was laid over it from the neck to the lower part of the abdomen, extending on either side of the body and passing under the arms, the ends of the cloth being folded over the arms and tucked in on the inner sides. The little sheet was laid over the child, and the blanket folded around it; and then it was strapped to the cradle, which was deposited to the left side of the mother, on a white sheepskin. The ear of corn which had been such an important element previous to the birth was laid by the right side of the child. The grandfather, taking his seat at the foot of the cradle, deposited before him the three medicine bags which had been used in the ritual previous to the birth, and, holding his eagle plumes in his right hand, repeated a prayer. Two loosely twisted cords of native cotton, which had been prepared by the father of the infant immediately after the birth of the child, were placed under the mother’s pillow, to her right side; these were afterwards tied around the ankles of the infant, to indicate that it was a child of Sûs´sĭstinnako and that it might know this father. After the prayer the grandfather touched the head, either side and foot of the cradle, and the child’s body, with a spear point of obsidian; this was repeated four times for strength of body, limbs, heart, and mind of the child; and the spear was passed over the mother’s limbs and body for the same purpose. The grandfather then gave the child its first food by placing in his own mouth a pinch of a specially sacred and valuable medicine composed of the pollen of medicinal and edible plants and transferring it into the infant’s mouth from his. He then placed a bit with his fingers in the mother’s mouth. The medicine was given to the child that he might know all the medicines of the earth, and to the mother that her milk which was to nourish the infant might be good, so that the child’s heart and mind would be good.

No attention was given to the woman by the doctress for two hours after the birth, when a fresh gown was put on, the gown being changed every morning and evening for four days, the one worn in the evening having been washed and dried the same day. The sheepskin on the bed was changed daily. About 9 o’clock a. m. the grandmother prepared a bowl of tea made from freshly gathered cedar twigs steeped in water, and the woman drank two gourdfuls. This tea is constantly drunk for a designated period, which differs with different clans; some drinking it regularly for four months, others taking it but three, and some only two months. No water is drunk during the time this liquid is used, and continency is observed for the two, three, or four months; the husband, however, sleeps during this time in the same room, and in this particular case the husband slept by his wife’s side. Should a woman140 break the continency, an animal would enter her abdomen and she would surely die, for so said the first mother of her clan.

After the first draft of the tea the woman ate a hearty breakfast of tortillas, jerked meat, and corn-meal gruel. Her female relatives and friends called to see her and the baby during the day, and she chatted as merrily as if nothing had happened.

The Sia infant is nourished regularly from the time it is born; and in this particular case the infant was nursed by a woman whose child was three months old, until the third morning, when the mother took it in charge. Though the door of the room could not be left open until the child should have passed out the fourth morning to see its sun father, and the two small windows being stationary, the most fastidious could have found no fault with the purity of the atmosphere. The father of the woman scarcely left her during the four days. He sat by her bed-side, weaving garters, and showing her the tenderest care, and her mother did little else than look after the wants of the invalid and infant and admire and caress the latter. The woman’s husband was absent all day working in the fields, but upon his return in the evening he could be found by his wife’s side admiring the baby and saying pleasing words to the woman of his choice. The family all slept in the same room as usual with the addition the first two nights of the woman engaged to furnish nourishment to the child, who also had her infant with her.

By half past 4 on the fourth morning the woman had donned her woolen dress and belt and sat upon the bed awaiting the arrival of the doctress, who soon came, and after a greeting handed ashes from the fireplace to the woman, who receiving the ashes in her right hand rubbed her legs and breast for purification, and then put on her moccasins. The grandmother took the infant from the cradle and wrapping it in its blanket handed it to the doctress, while the father of the woman gave her the two stone fetiches from under her pillow, which she placed in her bosom. The doctress then took from the fireplace a bit of charcoal and put it into the woman’s mouth that the cold winds might not enter through her mouth and congeal her blood and prevent its flow, for should this occur the woman would surely die. The father then handed sacred meal to his daughter and the doctress, and again helping himself he gave some to the writer. The doctress led the way, carrying the infant in her arms and pressing to its breast the ear of corn which had played such an important part during parturition, and had since lain by the side of the child; the woman followed, also carrying an ear of corn, a companion of the first ear (everything associated with life must have its dual, and “corn is life itself, for it comes from the heart of Ût´sĕt; were it not for the mother corn none could live.” These two ears of corn are afterwards wrapped together and laid under the child’s cradle, where they must remain until the next corn-planting time, when it is sown in two or four rows, apart from the main field, and when ripe it 141is eaten by the child, who takes the nourishment of the mother corn as it draws the milk from its mother’s breast). The writer followed after the woman and, passing a few feet to the right of the entrance after leaving the house, they stood while the grandfather went from the door directly to the eastern gateway of his placita and stood facing east, where he was joined by the others, the doctress leading the way; she stooped at his right. The father of the infant was not present any of the time and the grandmother did not leave the house. The grandfather prayed and sprinkled meal to the east (Pl. xxxiii); the mother then whispered a short prayer and sprinkled meal to the same point; the doctress afterward stooping until she almost sat upon the ground bared the child’s head as she held it toward the rising sun and repeated a long prayer, and addressing the child she said, “I bring you to see your sun father and Ko´pîshtaia that you may know them and they you.” At the close of the prayer she led the way to the house, and upon entering the woman sat on her bed with her legs extended and received the infant from the doctress, who laid the child across the mother’s arms with its head to the east; the doctress then laying the ear of corn lengthwise on the child’s breast requested the writer to hold the corn with her. The grandmother and the two boys stood to the left of the woman while the grandfather standing at the feet of the child offered a prayer. The doctress then repeated the long baptismal prayer, naming the child.[28]

She then placed the infant in the writer’s arms, saying, “The child is named; it is yours.” When the child was returned to her she washed its head in yucca suds, and bathed its body by again filling her mouth with water and spirting it over the child. It was afterwards rubbed with ashes, especially about its face, and the doctress gave it some warm water to drink by dipping her fingers into the vase and letting the drops fall from them into the infant’s mouth; the child smacked its lips in evident satisfaction; and it was then strapped to the cradle which was handed the doctress by the grandmother; and the child in the cradle was placed on the mother’s lap, and she proceeded to nourish it.

The grandfather brought an Apache basket containing a pyramid of meal and held it to the infant’s face, then to the mother’s, who blew upon the meal. The grandmother then blew upon it (that it might be blessed with the best thoughts of the breath of life) and, stooping, the grandfather held the basket with both hands while the doctress (Fig. 19) held it on the opposite side with her two hands, the grandfather whispering a prayer and then retiring to the far end of the room. The doctress offered a silent prayer, and left the room without farther ceremony, carrying the basket of meal, which was a gift to her from the infant, it 142being her only compensation for her services. The mother of the infant ate heartily and at half past seven in the morning she walked fully 200 yards from the house down a declivity, and on her return to the house was bathed for the first time since her confinement, she herself doing the bathing.

Fig. 20 is the copy of a photograph of the infant the fourth morning after birth.

The lochial discharge ceased after the fourth day, and from this time until the expiration of the nine days but one fresh gown was worn each day. The infant was bathed each of the first four mornings by the doctress, and afterwards by the grandmother until the tenth morning, when the mother bathed the child. The infant’s bed was changed several times daily, the bedding being put upon the cradle a couple of hours after washing. The night of the fourth day the doctress came about 9 o’clock and bathed the child; the ashes which had been applied to the child from its birth after each bath not being omitted. The fifth day the skin of the infant showed evidence of exfoliation, and the grandfather remarked, “When the new skin comes then all will be well.” The sixth day the remnant of the umbilical cord was removed by lifting the raw cotton, and a finely powdered pigment of bluish-gray color was rubbed upon the umbilicus and a cotton cloth laid over it. When there is any appearance of suppuration the mother milks a few drops from her breast upon the umbilicus and applies fresh pigment.

Prof. F. W. Clark furnishes the following analysis of this pigment: “A slight amount is soluble in water, this consisting of sulphates of143 lime and magnesia. The main portion consists of a mixture of a hydrous carbonate of copper (presumably malachite) with a ferruginous sand. The copper mineral dissolves readily in dilute acids and, in addition to the copper, contains traces of iron and of phosphoric acid. Probably an impure malachite pulverized.”

Though the woman is considered an invalid and exempt from all household duties until the tenth morning after childbirth, she passes in and out of the house after the fourth morning and occupies herself sewing, not more than half of her time being spent in a reclining position.

The greatest attention was shown this woman and her child by her father, mother, and husband, the two men performing the most menial services for her and frequently waiting upon the infant.

It was stated in a previous chapter that the Sia do not believe in a return of the spirits of their dead when they have once entered Shipapo. There was once, however, an exception to this. The story is here given in the theurgist’s own words:

It is the aim of the Sia to first reach the intermediate state at the time the body ceases to develop and then return gradually back to the first condition of infancy; at such period one does not die, but sleeps144 to awake in the spirit world as a little child. Many stories have come to the Sia by those who have died only for a time; the heart becomes still and the lips cold and the spirit passes to the entrance of the other world and looks in, but it does not enter, and yet it sees all, and in a short time returns to inhabit its earthly body. Great alarm is felt when one returns in this way to life, but much faith is put in the stories afterwards told by the one who has passed over the road of death.

When a death occurs any time before sundown, the body is buried as soon as it can be prepared for the grave; but if one dies after dark the body must not be touched until after sunrise, when it is bathed and buried as soon as possible. It is usual for an elderly woman of the clan to bathe the body, cold water being used; the head is washed first in yucca suds. Sometimes, however, this method is deviated from, if the remaining wife or husband has a special friend in some other clan. In the case of a man the breechcloth he has worn during his last illness is not removed. The immediate relatives in consanguinity and clan are present during the bathing and make the air hideous with their lamentations. The body is bathed on the bed upon which the party dies and here it remains until burial. The mourners are seated around the room, no one being near the bed but the woman who prepares the body for burial. If the corpse be a female, after the body is bathed a blanket is laid across the abdomen and limbs and tucked in on either side, the upper portion of the body being exposed.

The official members of the cult societies are painted after death, just as they were at their initiation into the society, the body having been previously bathed. The one exception to this rule—being the ho´naaite of warriors (Pl. xxxiv)—will show the change. The painting is done by the ho´naaite or vicar of the society to which the deceased belonged. Corn pollen is sprinkled on the head. Female officials have only their faces painted. When a man is not an official, neither his face nor body is painted, but as each man or woman of his clan looks upon the body a bit of corn pollen is sprinkled in a line under each eye and on the top of the head. While the body is being prepared for burial, the relatives who are present, amid lamentations, cut the apparel of the corpse, including his blankets, into strips and all is laid upon the body. After the body has been placed upon the blanket which is to wrap it for burial, if it be a man the wife places a quantity of food under the left arm, the arms hanging straight by the sides. If the wife does not perform this office then some member of his clan acts in her place. In the case of the death of a woman a member of her clan places the food. Again a small quantity of food is placed under the left arm by the man who principally officiates in the wrapping of the body. This is sometimes done by the son of the deceased. The blanket is first folded over one side of the body and then the other; then the end next to the head is caught together just above the145 head and tied some little distance from the end, tassel fashion, with a rope. The rope is fastened around the throat of the corpse and then continued around the body to the feet, and the blanket is tied below the feet to correspond with the head. Two men perform this service and alone carry the body to the grave and bury it without further ceremony, though the wailing and weeping is kept up in the house for a considerable time.

If a husband dies the wife is bathed after the burial by a female member of her clan. This is done that the one remaining may be cleansed of much of her sorrow and be only a little sad. When a wife dies the husband is bathed by a female member of his clan. The bathing of the remaining husband or wife in Zuñi is done for a very different reason. When a child dies both the paternal and maternal parents are bathed; but children are not bathed when a parent dies.

The fourth day after death, when the spirit starts on its journey to the lower world, after hovering around the pueblo in the meantime, a ceremonial is held by the society to which deceased belonged. If the person was not a member of one of the cult societies the family select the ho´naaite they wish to have perform the ceremony. A hä´chamoni which was made on the third day by the theurgist is deposited on the north road for the spirit to carry to its future home. A vase of food is deposited at this time to feed the spirit on its journey, and if any other pieces of clothing have been found they are cut and thrown over the north road. The clothing must never be deposited whole as the spirit of the clothing could not leave the body if it was in perfect condition.

The road to the lower world, which is to the north (the dead returning to the world whence they came), is so crowded that the spirits are often in each other’s way, for not only the spirits of the Sia pass over this road but the spirits of all Indians. The spirits of the dead are traveling to their first home and the unborn spirits are passing to the villages in which, after a time, they are to be born.

Upon reaching the entrance to the lower world a spirit is met by two guards to the entrance, who say to them, “So you have come here,” and the spirit replies, “Yes.” “Where is your credential?” inquires the chief guard, and the spirit shows his hä´chamoni, and the guard says, upon examining it, “Yes, here is your hä´chamoni to your mother, Sûs´sĭstinnako, that she may know you came promptly over the straight road; she will be pleased.” If the spirit be not provided with hä´chamoni it can not enter the lower world, but must roam about somewhere in the north. After examining the hä´chamoni, the guard says, “You may enter Shipapo and go to your mother in the lower world.” The first one met by the spirit in the lower world is Ût´sĕt, who says, “You have come from the other world?” and the spirit replies, “Yes.” Then Ût´sĕt says, “You bring a hä´chamoni?” and the spirit replies, “Yes.” “Let me see your hä´chamoni,” and, after carefully looking over it, she hands it to Sûs´sĭstinnako, who says, “Good! good!” and, pointing to146 the dead relatives of the newly arrived spirit, she adds, “There, my child, are your relatives; go join them and be happy.” When one has been very wicked in this world he is not permitted to enter the lower world even though he has a hä´chamoni. The guards at the entrance can read all hearts and minds, and they put such spirits into a great fire which burns in the earth below somewhere not far distant from Shipapo. The spirit is burned to death in this fire and can never know anything, as it is entirely destroyed. When ti´ämonis and ho´naaites have performed their duties in this world with unwilling hearts, it is known to the mother in the lower world, and when such men enter after death they are made to live apart, and alone, and without nourishment for a certain period of time, depending upon the amount of purification required. Some sit alone for two years; others for five, and some for ten before the mother considers them worthy to enter into peace.

The spirits of all animals go to the lower world; domestic animals serving the masters there as they did here. The masters would not always recognize them, but Sûs´sĭstinnako knows the property of all. The spirits of the prey animals return, and know their friends, in the lower world. A hä´chamoni is made for the prey animal when he is killed, and a dance and ceremonial are held. The animal carries the hä´chamoni as his credential just as the spirit of the man does.

The cloud people never die; that is, no one, not even the oldest men’s grandfathers ever knew of or saw a cloud person die.

The writer gave but limited study while at Sia to myths not directly connected with their cosmogony and cult. The minds of several of the elder men are filled with the stories of the long-ago myth-makers, and they believe in the truth of these fables as they believe in their own existence, which is the cause, no doubt, for the absence of myth-making at the present time. It must be borne in mind, however, that these people have their winter tales and romances which they recognize as fiction. The animal myths here recorded were recited to the writer in a most dramatic manner by the vicar of the Snake Society, these portions of the stories where the coyote suffers disappointment, and is cheated of his prey, giving special delight to the narrator.

The coyote seems to be a despised though necessary object in the mythic world of the Indian of the Southwest. He is certainly not reverenced, nor is he a being for whom they feel terror. While he is the object of ridicule he is also often of great service. Through his cunning he supplied the Sia of the upper world with fire by stealing it from Sûs´sĭstinnako in the lower world. When the world was new, people were depilous except upon their heads. The coyote said (animals could communicate with men then): “It is not well for you to be depilous,” and from the pilous growth about his mouth and belly he clothed the pubes and axilla of the Sia.

THE COYOTE ENCOUNTERS DISAPPOINTMENTS.

One day a shurtsûnna (coyote) was passing about and saw a hare sitting before his house, and the coyote thought, “In a minute I will catch you,” and he sprang and caught the hare, who cried, “Man coyote, do not eat me; wait just a minute, I have something to tell you, something that you will be glad to hear, something you must hear.” “Well,” said the coyote, “I will wait.” “Let me sit at the entrance of my house and I can talk to you,” and, standing near, he allowed the hare to take his seat there. The hare said, “What are you thinking of, coyote?” “Nothing,” said the coyote. “Listen, then, to what I have to say; I am a hare, and I am much afraid of people; when they come carrying arrows I am very afraid of them, for when they see me they aim their arrows at me and I am very afraid, and oh! how I tremble;” and suiting the action to his words the hare trembled violently, until he saw the coyote was a little off his guard; at this instant the hare started off at a run. It took a moment for the coyote to collect his thoughts, when he followed the hare, but he was always a little behind; after running some distance the hare entered the house of his companion just in time to escape the coyote. The coyote upon reaching the house found it was hard stone and he became very angry. “Alas!” cried he, “I was very stupid. Why did I allow this hare to fool me? I was so anxious to kill him; I must have him. How can I catch him? Alas! this house is very strong, how can I open it?” and he began to work, but after a while he cried, “The stone is so strong I can not open it.” Presently the hare called, “Man coyote, how are you going to kill me?” “I know how I am going to kill you,” replied the coyote, “I will kill you with fire.” “Where is the wood?” cried the hare, for there was no wood at the house of the hare. “I will bring grass,” said the coyote, “and set fire to it and the fire will enter your house and go into your eyes, nose, and mouth, and kill you.” “Oh,” said the hare, “the grass is mine, it is my food, it will not kill me; why would my food kill me? It is my friend. No, grass will not kill me.” “Then,” cried the coyote, “I will bring all the trees of the woods and set fire to them,” and the hare replied, “all the trees know me, they too are my food, they will not kill me, they are my friends.” The coyote said, “I will bring the gum of the piñon and set fire to it,” and the hare cried, “Oh, now I am much afraid, I do not eat that and it is not my friend,” and the coyote rejoiced that he had discovered a plan for getting the hare. He hurried and brought all the gum he could carry and placed it at the door of the hare’s house and set fire to it and in a short time the gum boiled like hot grease, and the hare cried, “Now I know I shall die, what shall I do?” and the coyote’s heart was glad. In a little while the hare called, “The fire is entering my house,” and the coyote cried to him, “Blow it out”. At the same time, drawing near to the fire, he blew with all his might to increase the flame. “Oh!”148 cried the hare, “your mouth is so close you are blowing the fire on to me, and I will soon die;” and the coyote put his mouth still closer to the fire and thought the hare must die; he blew with all his strength, drawing nearer in his eagerness to destroy the hare, until his face was very close to him, when the hare threw the boiling gum into the face of the coyote and escaped. The coyote’s thoughts were now directed to the removal of the hot gum from his eyes and face. It was a long time before he could see anything, and his eyes were painful. When he realized the hare had again escaped him he cried, “I am very, very stupid;” and he started off disgusted with himself, and was very sad. After traveling a long distance and crossing a mountain he came to a man (lynx) sleeping. The coyote was pleased to see the man, and thought, “Here is a companion. I guess the fellow has either worked hard all night or traveled much, for he sleeps soundly.” And after thinking quite a while, the coyote procured a slender round stick and thrust it into his stomach and twisted it very carefully to gather fat. The lynx still slept soundly. “I will tell my companion when he awakes,” said the coyote, “that I have the fat of the deer on my stick,” and he laid it to one side and began thinking. “Ah, I have a thought. In the old days my companion’s mouth was not so large; it was small; I will make it as it was. His ears were not so large; I will make them as they were. His tail was not so long; I will shorten it. His legs and arms and body were longer; I will lengthen them;” and he worked and pressed about the mouth until it was reduced in size, and so he labored over the ears until they were small, and pressed the tail until it grew shorter, and then pulled the legs and arms and body until they were the proper length. After his work was completed the coyote thought, “This is well.” Still the lynx slept, and the coyote called, “Companion!” but no answer; the second time, “Companion!” and no answer; none coming to the third call, the coyote thought, “Why is it my companion sleeps so soundly? he must have traveled hard or worked hard all night,” and again he called, “Companion!” and the lynx opened his eyes and looked about as one does when he has just awakened, but did not speak.

When he discovered that he was unlike his former self he said nothing, but thought, “That coyote man has done this work.” The coyote then bringing the stick, with the fat upon it, said, “Companion, I wish much to talk with you; you have slept very soundly; I have brought you some fat from the deer; eat it; you will like it. I killed a deer the other day, and this is the reason I can bring you some fat;” and the lynx, thinking the coyote spoke the truth, ate the fat with much relish. When the fat had been consumed the coyote said, “Well, companion, what do you think of the deer fat?” but before the lynx made any reply the coyote added, “I lied to you; it is your own fat which I took from your stomach while you slept.” The lynx at once became very sick and began vomiting. “I did not eat it,” cried the149 lynx. “Yes, you did,” said the coyote. “See, you can not keep it;” and the lynx continued vomiting until all the fat had been thrown from his stomach. He was very angry with the coyote, and thought, “Some time I will play the same trick upon you, man coyote.”

The two now separated, taking opposite roads; but in a short time the lynx returned and followed the coyote, aiming to keep close to him; but the coyote soon distanced the lynx, leaving him far behind; the coyote, however, did not know that the lynx was following him. After he had traveled a long distance he became tired and lay down to rest and sleep. After a time the lynx arrived, and finding the coyote sleeping, said: “Ah! ah! now I will play my trick;” and he called to the coyote, “Companion!” and no answer; again he called, “Companion!” and no answer; and the third and fourth calls brought no reply. The coyote was sleeping soundly. “He is surely asleep,” said the lynx, and with a stick similar to the one employed by the coyote, he drew the fat from the coyote’s stomach and placed it to one side; he then proceeded to change the appearance of the coyote; he pulled upon the mouth until he made it project, and it was much larger than before; then he pulled upon the ears until they became long, and he lengthened the tail to twice its size, and he also stretched the body and the arms. When he had completed his work he cried four times to the coyote, “Companion!” The fourth time the coyote awoke, and the lynx said, “I have brought you some deer fat;” and the coyote was stupid enough to believe the story, and ate the fat, for he was very hungry. Then, said the lynx, “Man, what do you think? Do you think I have lied to you? Well, I have lied to you; for the fat is from your own stomach;” and the coyote was very angry and vomited all that he had eaten. And he cried, “Man lynx, we are even;” and in a little while they separated, taking opposite roads.

The coyote traveled a great distance, and in the middle of the day it was very hot, and he sat down and rested, and he thought as he looked up to ti´nia, “How I wish the cloud people would freshen my path and make it cool;” and in a little while the cloud people gathered above the road the coyote was to travel over, and he rejoiced that his path was to be shady and cool; but after he had traveled a short distance, he again sat down, and, looking upward, said, “I wish much the cloud people would send rain, that my road would be fresher and cooler.” In a little while a shower came, and the coyote was contented and went on his way rejoicing; but in a short time he again sat down and wished that the road could be very moist, that it would be fresh to his feet, and almost immediately the road was wet as though a river had passed over it, and the coyote was very contented.

But after going a short distance he again took his seat and said to himself, “I guess I will talk again to the cloud people;” and he said to them, “I wish for water over my road; water to my elbows, that I may travel on my hands and feet in the cool waters; then I shall be refreshed150 and happy;” and in a little while his road was covered with the water and the coyote moved on; but after a time he wished for something more, and he sat down and said to the cloud people, “I wish much for water to my shoulders; I will then be very happy and contented;” and in a moment the waters arose as he had wished; but he did not go far before he again sat down and talked to the cloud people, saying, “If you will only give me water so high that my eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are alone above it I will be happy and contented; then my road will indeed be cool;” and his prayer was answered.

But even this did not satisfy him, and after traveling a short distance he sat down and implored the cloud people to give him a river that he might float over the road, and immediately a river appeared and the coyote floated with the stream. He was high in the mountains and wished to go below to the hare land. After floating a long distance he came to the hare land and saw many hares a little distance off, both large and small, and they were on both sides of the river. The coyote lay down as though he were dead (he was covered in mud), and listened, and presently he saw a woman ka´wate (mephitis) approaching, carrying her vase and gourd; she was coming for water. Before the coyote saw the ka´wate he heard the gourd striking against the vase. As she drew near the coyote peeped at her and she looked at him and said: “Here is a dead coyote. Where did he come from? I guess from the mountains above. I guess he fell into the water and died.” When she came closer he looked at her and said: “Come here, woman.” “What do you want?” said the ka´wate. “I want you to be my companion,” said the coyote. “I know all the hares and other small animals well, and I guess in a little while they will all come here, and when they think I am dead they will be very happy.” And the two talked much together and the coyote said: “Let us be companions, what do you think about it?” “I have no thoughts at all,” said the ka´wate. “I,” said the coyote, “think we had better work together.” And the ka´wate replied: “It is well.” Then said the coyote: “Go and bring me four clubs; I want them for the hares.” When the ka´wate returned with the clubs the coyote said: “Put them on the ground and cover them with earth.” When this was done he lay upon them. Then said the coyote: “Go and bring me the seeds from the pátiän.” (A very tall grass; the seeds when ripe are black.) He put the seeds on his mouth, nostrils, eyes, and ears and scattered them over his body. This he did that the hares might think him dead and being eaten by worms. Then he said to the ka´wate: “Look around everywhere for the hares; when you see them, say a coyote is dead; they will soon come to look at me and they will dance around me for joy because I am dead. You return with them, and when they dance tell them to look to the cloud people while they dance, and then throw your poison (mephitic fluid) up and let it fall upon their faces like rain, and when it goes in their eyes they can not see, for the poison of the ka´wate burns151 like red pepper, and when they become blind we can kill them; you will take two of the clubs and I will take two, one in either hand.” When the ka´wate reached the hares she spoke to the hare chief. “Hare, listen; I saw a dead coyote over there.” “Where?” cried the chief. “There by the river.” “You are not lying?” said the chief. “No; I speak the truth, there is a dead coyote.” “What killed the coyote?” “I don’t know what killed him, but I think he must have fallen into the water far above and was brought here by the river.” And the chief communicated the news to all of his companions and they concluded to send one hare alone to see if the ka´wate spoke the truth. “Go quickly,” said they to the hare, “and see if the woman speaks the truth.” The hare hastened off, and when he reached the coyote he looked carefully all about and concluded the coyote had been dead some time, for he saw that the body was covered with worms, and returning he told his people what he had seen, but some refused to believe that the coyote was dead. It was decided to send another messenger, and a second hare was dispatched to see if the first one’s story was correct. He returned with the same news and so a third and fourth were sent, and each came bearing the story that a coyote was dead and being eaten by worms. Then the hares decided to go in a body and see the dead coyote. The men, women, and children hastened to look upon the dead body of the coyote, and rejoicing over his death they struck him with their hands and kicked him. There were crowds of hares and they decided to have a great dance. Now and then a hare would leave the group of dancers and stamp upon the coyote, who lay all the time as though he were dead, and during the dance they clapped their hands over their mouths and gave a whoop like the war whoop.

After a time the ka´wate stepped apart from the group and said, “All of you hares look up, do not hold your heads down, look up to the cloud people while you sing and dance; it is much better to hold your heads up.” All threw their heads back and looked to ti´ni´a. Then the ka´wate threw high her mephitic fluid, which fell like rain upon the faces and into the eyes of all the hares, and their eyes were on fire; all they could do was to rub them; they could not see anything. And the coyote quickly rose, and handed the ka´wate two of the clubs, keeping two himself, and they killed all of the hares; there was a great number, and they were piled up like stones. Then said the coyote, “Where shall I find fire to cook the hares? Ah,” said he, pointing across to a very high rock, “that rock gives good shade and it is cool; I will find the fire and cook my meat near the shade of the rock;” and he and the ka´wate carried all of the hares to this point and the coyote made a large fire and threw them into it. When this was done he was very warm from his work about the fire and he was also tired, and he lay down close to the rock in the shade. He was now perfectly happy, and contented to be quiet, but only for a short time. He must be at work152 about something, and he said to the ka´wate, “What shall we do now?” and she answered; “I do not know,” then the coyote said, “We will work together for something pretty; we will run a race and the one who wins will have all the hares.” “Oh,” said the ka´wate, “how could I beat you? your feet are so much larger than mine.” “Well,” said the coyote, “I will allow you the start of me.” The coyote made a torch of the inner shreds of the cedar bark and wrapped it with yucca thread and lighting it tied this torch to the end of his tail. The fire was attached to his tail to light the grass that he might see everywhere about him to watch the ka´wate that she might not escape him. He then said, “Woman, I know you can not run fast, you must go first and I will wait until you have gone a certain distance.” The ka´wate started off, but when out of sight of the coyote she slipped into the house of the badger. At the proper time the coyote started with the fire attached to his tail. Wherever he touched the grass he set fire to it. The ka´wate waited for him to pass and then came out of the house of the badger and hastening back to the rock she carried all the hares to a high ledge, leaving but four tiny little ones below. The coyote was surprised in his run not to overtake the ka´wate. “She must be very quick,” thought he. “How could she run so fast,” and after passing around the mountain, all the time expecting to see the ka´wate ahead of him, he returned to the rock surely expecting to find her there. Not seeing her, he cried, “Where can the ka´wate be?”

He was tired and sat down in the shade of the rock. “Why does she not come,” thought the coyote; “perhaps she will not return before night, her feet are so small; perhaps she will not come at all. Strange I have not seen her; she must be far off.” The Ka´wate, who was just above him, heard all that he said. She watched him and saw him take a stick and look into the mound for the hares. (They had covered the hares before leaving the place.) He pulled out a very small one which he threw away. He then drew a second one, still smaller than the first, and this he also threw off, and again a third, and a fourth, each one smaller than the other. “I do not care for the little ones,” he said, “I have many here, I will not eat the smaller ones,” and he hunted and hunted in the mound for the hares, but found no more; all were gone, and he looked about him and said, “That woman has robbed me,” and he was glad to collect the four he had cast away and eat them, for he was very hungry. After his meal he looked about him and found the ka´wate’s footprints on the rocks. He hunted everywhere for her, but he did not think to look above, and after searching a long time he became weary and laid down to rest. As he looked upward, he saw the woman sitting on the ledge of the rock with the hares piled beside her. The coyote was hungry for the hares, and he begged the ka´wate to bring him some, and she threw him down a very small one, and the coyote was angry with her and still more angry with himself, because he could not climb the rock; she had gone where he could not go. The153 coyote was very angry when he parted from the ka´wate. After traveling a little way he saw a small bird. The bird was hopping about contentedly and the coyote thought, “What a beautiful bird, it moves about so gracefully. I guess I will work awhile with that bird,” and drawing nearer to the bird, he asked, “What beautiful things are you working at?” but the bird could not understand the coyote, and he could only stand and admire the bird. He saw the bird take out his two eyes and throw them straight up, like two stones, to ti´nia, and then look upward, but he had no eyes in his head; presently the bird said, “Come my eyes, come quickly, down into my head,” and immediately the eyes fell into the sockets of the bird, and the bird was apparently pleased, and the eyes appeared much brighter than before. The coyote discovering how improved the bird’s eyes were, he asked the bird to take out his eyes and throw them up that they might become brighter, and the bird took out the coyote’s eyes and held an eye in either hand for a little while, then threw them to ti´nia, and the coyote looked upward, but he had no eyes, and he cried, “Come back, my eyes, come quickly,” and the eyes fell into the coyote’s head. He was delighted with the improvement in his eyes, and, thinking that they might be made still more brilliant and penetrating by throwing them up a second time, he asked the bird to repeat the performance. The bird did not care to work any more for the coyote and told him so, but the coyote persistently urged the bird to throw his eyes up once more. The bird, growing a little angry, said, “Why should I work for you, coyote? No, I work no more for you,” but the coyote was persistent, and the bird a second time took out his eyes, this time causing the coyote such pain that he cried. As the bird threw up the eyes the coyote looked up to ti´nia and cried, “Come my eyes come to me!” but the eyes continued to ascend and did not return. The coyote was much grieved and moved about slowly and awkwardly, for he could not see, and he wept bitterly over the loss of his eyes.

The bird was very much annoyed to be thus bothered with the coyote, and said to him, “Go away now; I am tired of you, go off and hunt for other eyes, do not remain to weep and bother me,” but the coyote refused to leave and begged and entreated the bird to find eyes for him. Finally the bird gathered gum from a piñon tree and rolled two small bits between the palms of his hands, and, when they were round, he placed the two balls into the eye sockets of the coyote, who was then able to see, but not clearly as before, and these eyes, instead of being black like his other eyes, were slightly yellow. “Now,” said the bird, “you can remain no longer.”

After traveling some little distance the coyote met a deer with two fawns; the fawns were beautifully spotted, and he said to the deer, “How did you paint your children, they are so beautiful?” The deer replied, “I painted them with fire from the cedar.” “And how did you do the work?” inquired the coyote. “I put my children into a154 cave,” answered the deer, “and built a fire of cedar in front of the cave, and every time a spark flew from the fire it struck my children, making a beautiful spot.” “Oh,” said the coyote, “I will do the same and make my children beautiful,” and he hurried to his house and put his children into a cave and built a fire of cedar, and then stood off to watch the fire. The children cried much, because the fire was very hot. The coyote tried to stop their cries by telling them they would soon be beautiful like the children of the deer. After a time their weeping ceased and the coyote thought his words had comforted them, but, in fact, the children were burned to death. When the cedar was consumed the coyote hastened to the cave, expecting to find his children very beautiful, but instead he found them dead; he was enraged with the deer and ran fast to hunt her, but he could find her nowhere, and he returned to his house much distressed and much disgusted with himself for having been so easily fooled by the deer.

THE COYOTE AND THE COUGAR.

When the world was new the coyote was very industrious. He was always at work passing around the world everywhere. He was never lazy, but his thoughts were not good. He visited one camp of people and told them he belonged to the Corn people; at another camp he said he belonged to the Knife people. Both times he lied. After a while the coyote told the cougar, who was the father of all game, that he would like to be a ho´naaite. The cougar replied, “When your thoughts are good, then you may become one.” “I guess the coyote is not lying, he has good thoughts now,” and the cougar said to him, “Come in four days to me and we will make hä´chamoni.” The coyote returned on the fourth day and worked eight days with the cougar preparing hä´chamoni. He was supposed to abstain during this time from food, drink, and smoking, and to practice continency. The cougar also fasted and practiced continency for the same period of time. Each night when it was dark the cougar said, “You, man coyote, now it is night, take this food which I give you and offer it to Ko´pĭshtaia.” The first night the coyote returned with a contented heart, and upon entering the cougar’s house he sat down. The second night after the coyote left the house with the food for Ko´pĭshtaia, he felt a little hungry, and he said to himself, “Last night I was not hungry, now I am hungry, alas! I am afraid or I would eat this food. Why have I wished to be a ho´naaite? I have food here and I wish to eat it, for I am hungry and yet I am afraid.” And so he argued with himself until he overcame all scruples and ate the food. “Now,” said he, “I am contented; I am no longer hungry;” and he returned to the cougar, pretending he had offered the food to Ko´pĭshtaia, and so the remaining eight nights the coyote ate the food which was given him by the cougar to offer to Ko´pĭshtaia, but he said nothing of this to anyone. The cougar grew155 to be straight and had no belly, but the coyote did not change in appearance, and the sixth night the cougar began to suspect that the coyote was not making his offerings to Ko´pĭshtaia. The coyote told the cougar each night that he was contented and was not hungry. “I think you are a little sad,” the cougar replied. “No, I am not sad; my stomach is strong,” said the coyote, “I can fast eight days; I wonder that I am not a little sad. Why am I not hungry? I feel strong all the time that I am passing about.”

On the seventh day the cougar and the coyote worked very hard all day making hä´chamoni, and when the work was completed the cougar taught the coyote the song which he would sing as ho´naaite of the Coyote Society. They sang all the eighth day and night and at the conclusion of the song the coyote was ordained a ho´naaite. Then said the cougar to the coyote, “Go now and kill a deer, and when you kill the deer bring the meat here and we will eat,” and the coyote said, “It is well;” and he went to hunt the deer. In the early morning the coyote saw a deer, but the deer ran fast, and, though he followed him all day, he could not get close enough to catch him; he did not carry arrows, but was to catch him with his hands, and at night the coyote returned worn out. While the coyote was absent the cougar thought, “I guess the coyote will be gone all day,” and when evening came and the coyote was still absent he thought, “The coyote has not a good head or thoughts for a ho´naaite.” When the coyote returned at night the cougar said, “Why have you been gone all day and come back without a deer?” “I saw a deer,” said the coyote, “early this morning, and I ran all day following him; I went very far and am tired.” “Well,” said the cougar, “why is it your head and heart cared to be a ho´naaite? I gave you food for Ko´pĭshtaia and you, coyote, you ate the food that should have been given to Ko´pĭshtaia; this is why you did not catch the deer to-day. Had you given the food to Ko´pĭshtaia, instead of eating it, you would have caught the deer.” The coyote thought much, but did not say a word. He slept that night in the cougar’s house, and at dawn the cougar said to one of his own people, “you go and catch a deer.” “Well, be it so,” said the companion, and he started for the deer before the sun was up. In a short time he saw one; it was very near him, and with one jump he sprang upon the game and caught it before the sun was yet up, and hurrying back to the house of his chief he said, “Here is the meat of the deer.”

The chief was much pleased and contented, but the coyote was very sad. All the companions of the cougar were happy and rejoiced. “Good, my son!” said the cougar, “I am much contented; we will pay the Ko´pĭshtaia with plumes; now we will eat the flesh of the deer.” The chief ate first and the others after him; he would not give any of the meat to the coyote, because the coyote’s thoughts were not good. The chief enjoyed his food greatly, this being the ninth morning from the beginning of his fast. The cougar said to the coyote, “Your156 thoughts and heart are not good; you are no longer a ho´naaite; go! You will henceforth travel quickly over and about the world; you will work much, passing about, but you will never understand how to kill the deer, antelope, or any game; I do not travel fast, but my thoughts are good, and when I call the deer they come quickly.” Since that time the coyote is always hunting the deer, rabbit, and other game, but is not successful.

THE COYOTE AND THE RATTLESNAKE.

The coyote’s house was near the house of the rattlesnake. The coyote said to the snake, “Let us walk together,” and while walking he said to the snake, “To-morrow come to my house.” In the morning the snake went to the house of the coyote and moved along slowly on the floor, shaking his rattle. The coyote sat to one side, much afraid; he became frightened after watching the movements of the snake and hearing the noise of the rattle. The coyote had a pot of rabbit meat cooking on the fire, which he placed in front of the snake, inviting him to eat, saying, “Companion, eat.” “No, companion, I will not eat your meat; I do not understand your food,” said the snake. “What food do you eat?” asked the coyote. “I eat the yellow flowers of the corn,” was the reply, and the coyote immediately began to look around for some, and when he found the pollen, the snake said, “Put some on the top of my head that I may eat it,” and the coyote, standing as far off as possible, dropped a little on the snake’s head. The snake said, “Come nearer and put enough on my head that I may find it.” He was very much afraid, but after a while he came close to the snake and put the pollen on his head, and after eating the pollen the snake thanked the coyote saying, “I will go now and pass about,” but before leaving he invited the coyote to his house: “Companion, to-morrow you come to my house.” “Very well,” said the coyote, “to-morrow I will go to your house.” The coyote thought much what the snake would do on the morrow. He made a small rattle (by placing tiny pebbles in a gourd) and attached it to the end of his tail, and, testing it, he was well satisfied and said: “This is well;” he then proceeded to the house of the snake. When he was near the house he shook his tail and said to himself, “This is good; I guess when I go into the house the snake will be very much afraid of me.” He did not walk into the house, but moved like a snake. The coyote could not shake the rattle as the snake did his; he had to hold his tail in his hand. When he shook his rattle the snake appeared afraid and said, “Companion, I am much afraid of you.” The snake had a stew of rats on the fire, which he placed before the coyote and invited him to eat, saying, “Companion, eat some of my food,” and the coyote replied, “I do not understand your food; I can not eat it, because I do not understand it.” The snake insisted upon his eating, but the coyote continued to refuse, saying, “If you will put some of157 the flower of the corn on my head I will eat; I understand that food.” The snake quickly procured some corn pollen, but he pretended to be afraid to go too near the coyote, and stood off a distance. The coyote told him to come nearer and put it well on the top of his head; but the snake replied, “I am afraid of you.” The coyote said, “Come nearer to me; I am not bad,” and the snake came closer and put the pollen on the coyote’s head and the coyote tried to eat the pollen; but he had not the tongue of the snake, so could not take it from his head. He made many attempts to reach the top of his head, putting his tongue first on one side of his nose and then on the other, but he could only reach either side of his nose. His repeated failures made the snake laugh heartily. The snake put his hand over his mouth, so that the coyote should not see him laugh; he really hid his head in his body. The coyote was not aware that the snake discovered that he could not obtain the food. As he left the snake’s house he held his tail in his hand and shook the rattle; and the snake cried, “Oh companion! I am so afraid of you,” but in reality the snake shook with laughter. The coyote, returning to his house, said to himself, “I was such a fool; the snake had much food to eat and I would not take it. Now I am very hungry,” and he went out in search of food.

THE SKÁTONA.

The myth of the ska´tona (a monster plumed serpent) who, in the old time, ate the people, is familiar to every man, woman, and child of Sia. This serpent, who lived in the mountains, did not move to catch the people, but drew them to him with his breath; he never called but one person at a time, compelling each one to approach sidewise so that he could not be seen. The hand was usually grabbed first, then the serpent would take the hand into his mouth and gradually devour his victim.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The author mentions gratefully the share of this work performed by her late husband, Mr. James Stevenson, whose notes taken during his last year’s work in the field have been freely used by her and whose life interest in the North American Indians has been her inspiration.

[2] Davis, Spanish Conquest of New Mexico, 1869, pp. 351, 352.

[3] The writer is indebted to Mr. A. F. Bandelier for the information regarding the Catholic missions.

[4] Sûs´sĭstinnako is referred to both as father and mother, he being the parent of all, and sometimes as grandmother or the first parent.

[5] In this paper the words “cardinal points” are used to signify north, west, south, east, zenith, and nadir.

[6] The Ï´ärriko or ya´ya (mother) is an ear of corn which may be any color but must be symmetrically perfect, and not a grain must be missing. Eagle and parrot plumes are placed in pyramidal form around the corn. In order that the center feathers may be sufficiently long they are each attached to a very delicate splint. The base of this pyramid is formed of splints woven together with native cotton cord and ornamented at the top with shells and precious beads. A pad of native cotton is attached to the lower end of the corn. When the ya´ya is completed there is no evidence of the corn, which is renewed every four years when the old corn is planted. The ya´ya is made only by the theurgists of the cult societies, and continency must be practiced four days previous to the making of the Ï´ärriko, and an emetic taken each of the four mornings before breaking fast for purification from conjugal relations. A ya´ya is presented by the theurgist to each official member, the little ones being apparently as appreciative and proud as their elders of the honor conferred upon them. The Ï´ärriko is the Sia’s supreme idol. The one given to the writer by the theurgist of the knife society is now in the National Museum.

[7] Though it is not mentioned in the story, it seems to be understood that these games were played for the houses, for had Po´shaiyänne lost the games he would have lost the houses.

[8] Ancient flat shell beads as thin as paper.

[9] This reference to tables appears to evidence the fact that this portion of the cosmogony is of later date, and the whole paragraph savors of a coloring from Christian or biblical teaching.

[10] The culture hero of the Sia bears a name similar to that of the corresponding prodigy among the Zuñi. The same is true of other of their mythological beings.

[11] Fifth Ann. Rept. Bu. Eth., pp. 539-553.

[12] Presiding officer of a cult society.

[13] This society differed from the one of the same name afterwards organized in the upper world; knife in the former referring to the implement used for domestic and other purposes, while the word in the latter indicates the arrows presented to Ma´asewe and U´yuuyewĕ, the two war heroes, sons of the sun, by their father.

[14] The ho´naaite, in this instance, is not, strictly speaking, the theurgist, for the priest-doctor of the society of warriors practices surgery exclusively, such as extracting balls and arrows, while the theurgist has to deal with afflictions caused by witchcraft and the anger of certain animals and insects, he acting simply as the agent of the prey animals. The functions of the ho´naaites of the Koshai´ri and Quer´ränna also differ from those of the other societies. As these two societies received their songs and medicine directly from the sun, they are not entitled to the slat altars used in ceremonials and given by Ût´sĕt to the societies in the lower world; only those ho´naaites who practice through the power of the prey animals possess the sand paintings. The Warriors, Koshai´ri and Quer´ränna, make their cloud emblems of meal.

[15] The sacred meal, or shell mixture as it is often called by the Sia, may be prepared by an adult of either sex; it is composed of coarsely ground meal, powdered shells, and turkis.

[16] A member of a society is selected by the ho´naaite to collect the willow twigs from which the hä´chamoni are made. The ho´naaite arranges a bunch of bird plumes which the collector attaches to the limb of a willow, saying: “I have come to collect twigs for hä´chamoni and I pay you with these plumes.” The tree to which the plumes are attached is not touched, but the one nearest to it. A stroke at the place where the twig is to be cut is made with an ancient stone knife and the twig is severed from the tree on a line at right angles with itself, the stick varying from four inches to a foot in length, according to the symmetry of the twig, which is divided by three cuts (these having first been indicated by the stone knife), leaving the selected portion with a pointed end which in cross section would show an equilateral triangle.

[17] The Sia do not differ from the Zuñi, Tusayan, and Navajo in their process of preparing sand paintings, the powdered pigment being sprinkled between the index finger and thumb. All these Indian artists work rapidly.

[18] The uncolored illustrations are from photographs by Miss May S. Clark, the interior views being by flash light. The writer is pleased to congratulate Miss Clark for having succeeded under the most trying circumstances.

[19] All the figures show the feet as they are colored before the moccasins are put on. The red spot on the body designates the heart, the black spot on the figure of the member of the fire society indicates the coal which is eaten. The white around the face, arms, and legs is down from the breast of the hawk.

[20] Female members are never present at the ceremonial of brushing with straws and feathers, and therefore the ya´ya belonging to the woman and child were not to be seen on this occasion, and neither did the one captured from the Navajo appear.

[21] The portraits of the ho´naaites were made in secluded spots in the woods. The hair is not arranged as it is in the ceremonials, fear of discovery preventing the proper arrangement and adornment with feathers. (Pl. xxx.)

[22] There were other Ka´ᵗsuna, however, which were in the upper world before the Sia came. While the Sia can not account for their origin they are also personated by them.

[23] The aged ho´naaite has since died.

[24] Here the singers sprinkle pollen to the north with an under wave of the hand.

[25] Can not be translated.

[26] Shell mixture and sacred meal are synonymous.

[27] After the religious services it is usual for the ho´naaite to absent himself, even though he be the woman’s husband or father; his remaining being an evidence of unusual devotion. The mother-in-law may be present at childbirth, but not the father-in-law unless he be the chosen ho´naaite for the occasion, and his affection for the daughter-in-law prompting him to remain, this, however, being very rare. “Should the expectant mother fail to bend her thoughts upon the event to come the child would not care to be born and would lie still and die.” It is rare for a Sia woman to die in childbirth; or for a child to he stillborn.

[28] The doctress names all infants, one name usually serving the female through life, but the male may have a plurality of names; for example, upon his return after a long journey, or after having performed some valorous deed his head is bathed in yucca suds by some female member of the cult society to which he belongs, or by a member of his clan, when she bestows an appropriate name.

	Page.
Introduction	9
Cosmogony	26
Cult societies	69
Theurgistic rites	73
Rain ceremonial of the Snake society	76
Rain ceremonial of the Giant society	91
Four nights’ ceremonial of the Giant society for the healing of a sick boy	97
Rain ceremonial of the Knife society	101
Society of the Quer´ränna	112
Rain ceremonial of the Quer´ränna society	113
Other societies	116
Society of the cougar	118
Society of Warriors	121
Songs	123
A rain song of the Shū´wi Chai´än (Snake society)	123
A song of the Shū´wi Chai´än (Snake society) for healing the sick	125
A rain song of the Sko´yo Chai´än (Giant society)	126
A song of the Sko´yo Chai´än (Giant society) for healing the sick	127
A rain song of the Hĭis´tiän Chai´än (Knife society)	128
Portion of a rain song of the Hĭs´tiän Chai´än (Knife society)	129
A rain song of the Quer´ränna Chai´än	130
Prayer for sick infant	130
Childbirth	132
Mortuary customs and beliefs	143
Myths	146
The Coyote encounters disappointment	147
The Coyote and the Cougar	154
The Coyote and the Rattlesnake	156
The Skátona	157

			Page.
Pl.	I.	A view of Sia, showing a portion of village in ruins	8
	II.	Plaza, Sia	10
	III.	Sisters; cleverest artists in ceramics in Sia	12
	IV.	Group of Sia vases	14
	V.	The Oracle	16
	VI.	Stone house showing plaster on exterior	22
	VII.	Stampers at work	24
	VIII.	Pounders completing work	26
	IX.	I-är-ri-ko, a Sia fetich	40
	X.	Personal adornment when received into third degree of official membership in Cult society (A, Ko-shai-ri; B, Quer´-rän-na; C, Snake society	70
	XI.	Hä´-cha-mo-ni before plume offerings are attached (A, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for Sûs sĭs-tin-na-ko; B, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for the sun; C, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for the cloud priest of the north; D, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for the cloud priest of the west; E, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for the cloud priest of the zenith)	74
	XII.	Hä´-cha-mo-ni with plume offerings attached (F, hä´-cha-mo-ni deposited for the Sia woman of the north and of the west; G, hä´-cha-mo-ni offered to the cloud woman of the cardinal points; H, gaming block offered to the cloud people; I, hä´-cha-mo-ni and official staff deposited for the snake ho´-na-ai-te of the north)	76
	XIII.	Hä´-cha-mo-ni with plumes attached (A, deposited for cloud priest of the north; B, deposited for Ho-chan-ni, arch ruler of the cloud priests of the world; C, deposited for cloud woman of the north; D, bunch of plumes offered apart from hä´-cha-mo-ni; E, bunch of plumes offered apart from hä´-cha-mo-ni)	78
	XIV.	Altar and sand painting of Snake society	80
	XV.	Altar of Snake society	82
	XVI.	Ceremonial vase	84
	XVII.	Vice ho´-na-ai-te of Snake society	86
	XVIII.	Altar and sand painting of Giant society (A, altar; B, sand painting)	90
	XIX.	Altar of Giant society photographed during ceremonial	92
	XX.	Ho´-na-ai-te of Giant society	94
	XXI.	Sick boy in ceremonial chamber of Giant society	96
	8XXII.	Altar and sand painting of Knife society	98
	XXIII.	Altar of Knife society photographed during ceremonial	100
	XXIV.	Ho´-na-ai-te of Knife society	102
	XXV.	Altar of Knife society, with ho´-na-ai-te and vice ho´-na-ai-te on either side	104
	XXVI.	Shrine of Knife society	108
	XXVII.	Shrine of Knife society	110
	XXVIII.	Altar of Quer´-rän-na society	112
	XXIX.	Altar of Quer´-rän-na society	114
	XXX.	Ho´-na-ai-te of Quer´-rän-na society	116
	XXXI.	Sia masks (A, masks of the Ká-ᵗsû-na; B, mask of female Ká-ᵗsû-na; C, masks of the Ká-ᵗsû-na)	118
	XXXII.	Sia masks (A, masks of the Ká-ᵗsû-na; B, masks of female Ká-ᵗsû-na)	120
	XXXIII.	Prayer to the rising sun	122
	XXXIV.	Personal adornment when received into the third degree of official membership of Cult society (A, spider; B, cougar; C, fire; D, Knife and Giant; E, costume when victor is received into society of Warriors; F, body of warrior prepared for burial, only the face, hands, and feet being painted)	140
	XXXV.	Ceremonial water vases; Sia (A, a cross emblematic of the rain from the cardinal points; B, faces of the cloud men; C, faces of the cloud women; D, clouds and rain; E, vegetation; F, dragonfly, symbolic of water)	146

Fig.	1.	Sia women on their way to trader’s to dispose of pottery	12
	2.	Sia women returning from trader’s with flour and corn	13
	3.	Pauper	18
	4.	Breaking the earth under tent	21
	5.	Women and girls bringing clay	22
	6.	Women and girls bringing clay	23
	7.	Depositing the clay	24
	8.	Mixing the clay with the freshly broken earth	25
	9.	Women sprinkling the earth	26
	10.	The process of leveling	27
	11.	Stampers starting to work	28
	12.	Mixing clay for plaster	29
	13.	Childish curiosity	30
	14.	Mask of the sun, drawn by a theurgist	36
	15.	Diagram of the White House of the North, drawn by a theurgist	58
	16.	The game of Wash´kasi	60
	17.	Sand painting as indicated in Plate XXV	102
	18.	Sand painting used in ceremonial for sick by Ant society	103
	19.	Sia doctress	133
	20.	Mother with her infant four days old	142

Yá-ka	Corn
Shurts-ŭn-na	Coyote
Tá-ñe	Squash
Há-mi	Tobacco
Ko-hai	Bear
Ti-ä´-mi	Eagle

Shi-kĕ	Star
T́a-wac	Moon
O´-sharts	Sun
Tä´ñe	Deer
Kurtz	Antelope
Mo´-kaitc	Cougar
Hĕn´-na-ti	Cloud
Shu´ta	Crane
Ha´-pan-ñi	Oak
Ha´-kan-ñi	Fire
Sha´-wi-ti	Parrot
Wa´pon	White shell bead
ᵗ´Zi-i	Ant
Ya´un-ñi	Granite
Wash´-pa	Cactus

THE SIA.

CONTENTS.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

INTRODUCTION.

COSMOGONY.

CULT SOCIETIES.

THEURGISTIC RITES.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE SNAKE SOCIETY.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE GIANT SOCIETY.

FOUR NIGHTS’ CEREMONIAL OF THE GIANT SOCIETY FOR THE HEALING OF A SICK BOY.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE KNIFE SOCIETY.

SOCIETY OF THE QUER´RÄNNA.

RAIN CEREMONIAL OF THE QUER´RÄNNA SOCIETY.

OTHER SOCIETIES.

SOCIETY OF THE COUGAR.

SOCIETY OF WARRIORS.

SONGS.

A RAIN SONG OF THE SHŪ´-WI CHAI´ÄN (SNAKE SOCIETY).

A SONG OF THE SHŪ´WI CHAI´ÄN (SNAKE SOCIETY) FOR HEALING THE SICK.

A RAIN SONG OF THE SKO´YO CHAI´ÄN (GIANT SOCIETY).

A SONG OF THE SKO´YO CHAI´ÄN (GIANT SOCIETY) FOR HEALING THE SICK.

A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

PORTION OF A RAIN SONG OF THE HĬSTIÄN CHAI´ÄN (KNIFE SOCIETY).

A RAIN SONG OF THE QUER´RÄNNA CHAI´ÄN.

PRAYER FOR SICK INFANT.

Explanation of prayer by governor for his sick child.

CHILDBIRTH.

MORTUARY BELIEFS AND CUSTOMS.

MYTHS.

THE COYOTE ENCOUNTERS DISAPPOINTMENTS.

THE COYOTE AND THE COUGAR.

THE COYOTE AND THE RATTLESNAKE.

THE SKÁTONA.