Chapter XII: Introduction (8)

In this case the woman chose her father.

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.

Na´-wai-pi-cha u-wak.

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 mother 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 would 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 the 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 and 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 grandfather 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 woman 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 is 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]

GAST LITH. CO. N.Y.

PERSONAL ADORNMENT WHEN RECEIVED INTO THE THIRD DEGREE OF OFFICIAL
MEMBERSHIP CULT, SOCIETY.]

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 being 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 of 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.

MORTUARY BELIEFS AND CUSTOMS.

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:

“When the years were new and this village had been built perhaps
three years, all the spirits of our dead came here for a great
feast. They had bodies such as they had before death; wives
recognized husbands, husbands wives, children parents, and parents
children. Just after sundown the spirits began arriving, only a
few passing over the road by daylight, but after dark they came in
great crowds and remained until near dawn. They tarried but one
night; husbands and wives did not sleep together; had they done so
the living would have surely died. When the hour of separation came
there was much weeping, not only among the living but the dead. The
living insisted upon going with the dead, but the dead declared
they must wait; that they could not pass through the entrance to
the other world; they must first die or grow old and again become
little children to be able to pass through the door of the world
for the departed. It was then that the Sia first learned all about
their future home. They learned that the fields were vast, the
pastures beautiful, the mountains high, the lakes and rivers clear
like crystals, and the wheat and cornfields flourishing. During the
day the spirits sleep, and at night they work industriously in the
fields. The moon is father to the dead as the sun is father to the
living; the dead resting when the sun travels, for at this time
they see nothing; it is when the sun returns to his home at night
that the departed spirits work and pass about in their world below.
The home of the departed spirits is in the world first inhabited by
the Sia.”

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 sleeps 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.

A ho´naaite holds a corresponding position in the spirit world.

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 the 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 to 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.

MYTHS.

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.

GAST LITH. CO. N.Y.

CEREMONIAL WATER VASES—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!” 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 the 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.