LEGEND OF THE NIGHT CHANT
Long years ago three brothers—the eldest rich, the second a wayward, roving gambler, and the youngest a mere boy—lived together among their kind, the Dĭné̆ people. Their only sister was married, living apart with her husband. The gambler often took property belonging to his brothers, going to distant corners of the land to stake it on games of chance. On returning, he never failed to relate a story of wonders he had seen—the Holy People whom he had met, and who revealed many things to him.[pg 112] His brothers never believed him, calling him Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ, The Dreamer.
Gán askĭdĭ. Zahadolzhá. Hasché̆ltĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
The personated deities pictured in this plate appear together in acts of succor in the Night Chant in the order seen, the Talking God in the lead. From left to right they are, respectively, the God of Harvest, Fringe Mouth, and Talking God.
One day they wished to go hunting, but did not want The Dreamer to accompany them, so, going to the home of their brother-in-law, they told him of their purpose, and all three stole away. As the sun began its descent on the fourth day, it occurred to Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ that he had been tricked, so he started in search of the hunters, hoping to meet them returning, that he might help them carry their game and be rewarded with a pelt or two. He travelled far, but had not come upon them when the sun passed behind the distant hills. Near by was a deep, rock-walled cañon, from the depths of which many mingled voices could be heard. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ walked to its edge and peered over. Back and forth from side to side flew countless crows, passing in and out of dark holes in opposite walls. From below, when darkness had shrouded all, Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ heard a human voice call in loud echoing tones, "They say, they say, they say, they say!"
From the far side came the answer: "Yes, yes! What's the matter now? What's the matter now?"
"Two people were killed to-day," continued the voice just below.
"Who were they? Who were they?"
To which the first voice answered, "Anahailí̆hĭ, killed at sunrise, and Igákĭzhĭ, killed at dusk, by the People of the Earth. They went in search of meat, and the hunters shot arrows into them. We are sorry, but they were told to be careful and did not heed. It is too late to help them now; let us go on with the chant."
It had grown very dark, and Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ became greatly frightened, but he stayed to listen and watch. Muffled strains of songs came from the deep recesses in each cañon wall,—the gods were singing—and just within the openings, discernible in the glow of a fire, could be seen many dancers performing in unison as they kept time with rattles. Throughout the night firelight flickered from wall to wall and singing and dancing[pg 113] continued. At daylight the participants departed in all directions, so Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ resumed the quest of the hunters.
He had travelled but a short time when he came upon his brothers, resting their heavy game packs on their journey homeward.
"Here comes The Dreamer," spoke his elder brother. "I will wager he has something marvellous to relate."
Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ was greeted first by his brother-in-law. "You must have slept near here last night, for you are too far out to have made this distance since daylight."
"I did," he replied, "near a cañon that is surely holy. A lot of people had gathered to dance, the gods sang, and—"
"There, I told you he would have some lie to tell," interrupted the eldest brother, and started on.
"Go ahead," urged the brother-in-law; "tell us the rest."
"It's no use; no one cares to listen to me," said Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ.
His younger brother, also incredulous, took up his burden and plodded off, whereat Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ related all that he had seen and heard.
"You men must have killed those people they spoke about," he accused.
"No, it was none of us," his brother-in-law protested; "we have killed no people. Yesterday morning one shot a crow, and last night we killed a magpie, but there was no harm in that."
"I fear there was; they were hunters like yourselves, in search of meat for the Holy People, for the time disguised as birds," Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ ventured. Then, dividing the pack, the two hurried on to overtake the others.
"Well," asked the youngest, "did you hear a fine story?"
"It is not a lie," his brother-in-law retorted; "we killed a crow and a magpie yesterday, and the Holy People talked about it in the cañon last night. Look! There come four mountain[pg 114] sheep! Hurry, Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ and head them off!" They had come upon the cañon where the strange voices had been heard. Four sheep, among large bowlders near the rim, were carefully threading their way out of it. The three dropped back, while Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ ran ahead and concealed himself near the ascending trail. As the sheep approached he drew his bow and aimed for the leader's heart, but his fingers could not loose their grip upon the arrow, and the sheep passed by unharmed. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ scrambled up over the rim of the cañon and ran to get ahead of them again, but the bowstring would not leave his fingers as they passed. A third effort, and a fourth, to kill the game brought the same result. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ cursed himself and the sheep, but ceased suddenly, for whom should he see but four gods, Yébĭchai, appear before him, who had transformed themselves into sheep! Hasché̆ltĭ, in the lead, ran up to him and dropped his balíl—a rectangular, four-piece, folding wand—over him, as he sat, and uttered a peculiar cry. Behind him came Zahadolzhá, Haschĕbaád, and Gánaskĭdĭ; all were masked.
Tónenĭlĭ, Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
These three gods appear in the order shown when seen in the rites of the Navaho Night Chant.
"Whence came you?" Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ asked them.
"From Kĭnní̆nĭkai," Hasché̆ltĭ answered.
"Whither are you going?"
"To Tsé̆gyiĭ, to hold another hatál four days from now. You had better come along."
"No, I couldn't travel so far in four days."
But after a little parleying Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ assented. He was told to disrobe, and doing so Gánaskĭdĭ breathed upon him, and his raiment became the same as that of the gods. Then all took four steps eastward, changing into mountain sheep, and bounded away along the cañon's rim.
The hunters in hiding became restless as The Dreamer did not return, so ventured out where they could view the trail on which he was last seen. No one was in sight. One went to the rock where Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ first hid near the sheep and followed his tracks from hiding place to hiding place until the fourth one was reached, and there he found his brother's old clothes with his bow and arrows upon them. There he traced[pg 115] four human footsteps to the east that merged into the trail of five mountain sheep. The eldest brother cried in his remorse, for he saw that his brother was holy, and he had always treated him with scorn.
The gods and Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ, transformed to mountain sheep, travelled very far during their four days' journey, coming on the fourth day to a large hogán. Inside were numerous Holy People, both gods and men. When Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ entered with his four holy companions, a complaint at once arose from those inside against an earthly odor, whereat Hasché̆ltĭ had their charge taken out and washed with yucca-root suds.
Inside the hogán stood four large jewel posts upon which the gods hung their masks. The eastern post was of white shell, the southern of turquoise, the western of abalone, and the northern of jet. Two jewel pipes lay beside a god sitting on the western side of the hogán. These he filled with tobacco and lighted, passing one each to his right and his left. All assembled smoked, the last to receive the pipes being two large Owls sitting one on each side of the entrance way at the east. They drew in deep draughts of smoke and puffed them out violently. While the smoking continued, people came in from all directions. At midnight lightning flashed, followed by heavy thunder and rain, which Tónenĭlĭ, Water Sprinkler, sent in anger because he had not been apprised of the dance before it was time to begin it; but a smoke with the assembled Holy People appeased him. Soon after the chant began and continued until morning.
Some of the gods had beautiful paintings on deerskins, resembling those now made with colored sands. These they unfolded upon the floor of the hogán during the successive days of the hatál.
The last day of the dance was very largely attended, people coming from all holy quarters. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ through it all paid close attention to the songs, prayers, paintings, and dance movements, and the forms of the various sacred paraphernalia, and[pg 116] when the hatál was over he had learned the rite of Kléjĕ Hatál. The gods permitted him to return to his people long enough to perform it over his younger brother and teach him how to conduct it for people afflicted with sickness or evil. This he did, consuming nine days in its performance, after which he again joined the gods at Tsé̆gyiĭ, where he now lives. His younger brother taught the ceremony to his earthly brothers, the Navaho, who yet conduct it under the name of Kléjĕ Hatál, Night Chant, or Yébĭchai Hatál, The Chant of Paternal Gods.
CEREMONIES—THE NIGHT CHANT
Yébĭchai Sweat - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
Each morning during the first four days of the Navaho Yébĭchai healing ceremony, or Night Chant, the patient is sweated—sometimes inside a small sweat-lodge, oftener by being placed upon a spot previously heated by a fire and covered with heavy blankets. The three figures are medicine-men, or singers, chanting. The patient lies under the blankets surrounded by a line of sacred meal in which turkey-feather prayer-sticks, kĕdán, are implanted.
A description of the ritual and form of the Yébĭchai ceremony,—Kléjĕ Hatál, or Night Chant,—covering its nine days of performance, will give a comprehensive idea of all Navaho nine-day ceremonies, which combine both religious and medical observances. The myth characters personified in this rite are termed Yébĭchai, Grandfather or Paternal Gods. Similar personations appear in other ceremonies, but they figure less prominently.
First Day: The ceremonial, or medicine, hogán is built some days in advance of the rite. The first day's ceremony is brief, with few participants. Well after dark the singer, assisted by two men, makes nine little splint hoops—tsĭpans yázhĕ kĕdán—entwined with slip-cords, and places them on the sacred meal in the meal basket. Following this, three men remove their everyday clothing, take Yébĭchai masks, and leave the hogán. These three masked figures are to represent the gods Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, Haschĕbaád, Goddess, and Hasché̆lapai, Gray God. When they have gone and passed to the rear of the hogán, the patient comes in, disrobes at the left of the centre, passes around the small fire burning near the entrance of the hogán, and takes his seat in the centre, immediately after which the singing begins. During the third song Hasché̆ltĭ enters with his cross-sticks—Hasché̆ltĭ balíl—and opens and places them over the patient's body, forcing them down as far toward the ground as[pg 117] possible. The second time he places them not so far over the body; the third, not lower than the shoulders; the fourth time, over the head only, each time giving his peculiar call, Wu-hu-hu-hu-u! Then Hasché̆ltĭ takes up a shell with medicine and with it touches the patient's feet, hands, chest, back, right shoulder, left shoulder, and top of head,—this being the prescribed ceremonial order,—uttering his cry at each placing of the medicine. He next places the shell of medicine to the patient's lips four times and goes out, after which Haschĕbaád comes in, takes one of the circle kĕdán, touches the patient's body in the same ceremonial order, and finally the lips, at the same time giving the slip-cord a quick pull. Next comes Hasché̆lapai, who performs the same incantations with the kĕdán. Again Hasché̆ltĭ enters with the cross-sticks, repeating the former order, after which he gives the patient four swallows of medicine,—a potion different from that first given,—the medicine-man himself drinking what remains in the shell. This closes the ceremony of the first day. There will, perhaps, be considerable dancing outside the hogán, but that is merely practice for the public dance to be given on the ninth night. The singer and the patient sleep in the hogán each night until the nine days are passed, keeping the masks and medicine paraphernalia between them when they sleep.
Second Day: Just at sunrise the patient is given the first ceremonial sweat. This is probably given more as a spiritual purification than in anticipation of any physical benefit. To the east of the hogán a shallow hole is dug in the earth, in which are placed hot embers and ashes,—covered with brush and weeds, and sprinkled with water,—upon which the patient takes his place. He is then well covered with blankets. The medicine-man, assisted by Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbaád, places about the patient a row of feathered kĕdán, and then commences to sing while the patient squirms on the hot, steaming bed. After singing[pg 118] certain songs the medicine-man lifts the blanket a little and gives the patient a drink of medicine from a ceremonial basket. He is again covered, and the singing goes on for a like time. Later the blankets are removed and Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbaád perform over the patient, after which he goes to the hogán. The brush and weeds used for the bed are taken away and earth is scattered over the coals. This sweating, begun on the second day, is repeated each morning for four days: the first, as above noted, taking place east of the hogán, and the others respectively to the south, west, and north. The ceremonies of the second night are practically a repetition of those held the first night. During the third song Hasché̆ltĭ enters with the Hasché̆ltĭ balíl, placing it four times in the prescribed order and giving his call; then he goes out, re-enters, and takes from the medicine basket four sacred reed kĕdán. These he carries in ceremonial order to the four cardinal points: first east, then south, next west, lastly north. Next stick kĕdán are taken out of the basket, which holds twelve each of the four sacred colors. These also are carried to the four cardinal points—white, east; blue, south; yellow, west; black, north. After all the kĕdán are taken out, Hasché̆ltĭ again enters with the Hasché̆ltĭ balíl, using it in directional order and giving medicine as on the night before.
Pĭkéhodĭklad - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S. Curtis
The first of the four dry-paintings used in conducting the Kléjĕ Hatál, or Night Chant, of the Navaho, being made on the fifth night. The purpose of this night's acts is to frighten the patient; hence the name of the painting, which signifies "Frighten Him On It."
The encircling figure represents the rainbow, aklólh; the first on the left Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God; the central, Haschĕbaád, goddess—symbolically the patient—and the right-hand figure a male deity, Haschĕbakú̆n.
The patient sits on the central figure at its waist line during the night's performance. When the ceremony in connection with this painting is concluded the colored sands are carefully collected, carried out toward the north, and deposited under a tree.
Third Day: It is understood that the patient has been sweated in the morning, as on the second day. On this night he is dressed in spruce boughs by the assisting medicine-man, bound around the wrists, arms, ankles, legs, and body, and fastened on the head in the form of a turban. After several songs, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ cut the boughs from the body, using a stone arrow-point as a knife. Then the boughs are cut into fragments over the patient's head, after which the singer takes a feather wand, points it toward the four cardinal points above the fire, and brushes the patient, chanting meanwhile. At the end of the brushing he points the wand out of the smoke-hole, at the same time blowing the dust from it out into the open air.
Fourth Day: The ceremonies this day do not begin until later than usual, probably nine o'clock. Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbaád[pg 119] dress and go out. The patient disrobes and takes his place. The assisting medicine-man digs a small hole just between the patient's feet, and encircles it with a line of tádĭtĭn, or pollen, leaving an opening to the east, after which the patient dons a mask. Hasché̆ltĭ enters, followed by Haschĕbaád, who carries a small spruce tree. The former puts sacred pollen in the hole four times, each time giving his call; then Haschĕbaád plants the tree in the hole and fastens its top to the patient's mask; the mask is then pulled off the patient's head by his jerking quickly away from the tree. This is the first night in which the ceremonies are continued until dawn. After the unmasking, the singers take their place at one side of the back of the hogán and begin singing to the accompaniment of a basket drum. A youth and a maiden are required to sit in the hogán throughout the fourth night, the ritual requiring that these be persons who have not had sexual knowledge.
Fifth Day: This is the last day of the sweating, and the day on which the first dry-painting is made. Just at dark this painting, a small one, is begun inside. In size it would square about four feet, and is placed close to the back of the hogán. There are three figures in the painting: the central one being the patient, the one to the left Hasché̆ltĭ, the one to the right Haschĕbakú̆n. Around this painting, at all sides except the eastern, feather wands, ndiá, are stuck in the ground; in this case twelve in number. Foot-tracks are made in the sand with white meal. Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbakú̆n dress ceremonially, mask, and go out, after which the patient enters and takes his position on the central figure of the dry-painting, facing the east. The effort this night is to frighten the patient and thus banish the evil spirits[pg 120] from his body. The two maskers come running in, uttering weird, unearthly howls, in which every spectator in the hogán joins, feigning great fear. The masked figures make four entries, each like the other. In many cases the patient either actually faints from fright or feigns to do so. The patient then leaves the dry-painting and it is destroyed. None of the sand or other pigments used in this painting is applied to the patient's body, as is done with that of later paintings. The next part of the fifth night's ceremony is the initiation of new members into the Yébĭchai order. No one who is not a member of the order is allowed to enter the ceremonial hogán. At the time of the initiation Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschĕbakú̆n are outside in the darkness. The initiates enter and sit on the ground in a row—the males naked, the women dressed in their ordinary mode. They dare not look up, for should they see Hasché̆ltĭ before being initiated, they would become blind. One at a time these novices take their place in the centre of the hogán and the initiatory rite is performed over them.
Shĭlhné'ohlĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S. Curtis
In this plate is pictured the second dry-painting employed in the Night Chant, made on the sixth day of the ceremony. It represents crossed logs which whirl around in a mythic lake. Upon them are alternately seated male and female deities, singing. The light figures are goddesses, haschĕbaád; the dark ones gods, haschĕbakú̆n. Their songs treat of all life-giving plants, of which corn, beans, squashes, and tobacco, the most important, are pictured as growing from the very centre of the lake, the point of contact of the logs.
Of the four marginal figures the one in white toward the east is Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, with his pine-squirrel pouch of sacred meal. Opposite him stands Haschógan, House God. The other two are Gánaskí̆dĭl, Hunchbacks, Gods of Harvest, with seeds of the field in packs on their backs. Around the whole is the personified rainbow.
When the dry-painting is in actual use the patient enters upon it over the feet of Hasché̆ltĭ and sits at the intersection of the logs. A man personating a god then enters, places his hands upon the various parts of the many deities represented in the picture, then upon the corresponding parts of the patient's body. The whole picture is then destroyed and the colored sands are carried off to the north in a blanket and strewn under trees.
Sixth Day: This is the first day of the large dry-paintings. The painting is commenced early in the morning, and is not finished until mid-afternoon. The one on this day is the whirling log representation. After it is finished, feathers are stuck in the ground around it, and sacred meal is scattered on parts by some of the assisting singers. Others scatter the meal promiscuously; one of the maskers uses a spruce twig and medicine shell, applying meal to every figure and object in the painting. Then the medicine-men all gather up portions of the sacred meal, putting it in their medicine pouches. The patient soon enters and takes his seat in the centre of the painting. The usual incantations are gone through, after which the colored sands of the painting are applied to the corresponding parts of the patient's body, then gathered up and carried off to the north. During the day two sets of beggars go out to the neighboring hogáns. These personate Hasché̆ltĭ, Tónenĭlĭ—Water Sprinkler, the God of Water, who is really a clown—and as many Haschĕbaád as care to go out. The beggars carry whips made of yucca[pg 121] leaves, and one who does not respond to their appeals for gifts is whipped,—if he can be caught,—which creates a great deal of amusement. The personators act like a company of clowns, but at the same time they gather a large quantity of food. When the day is thoroughly taken up with dry-painting and ceremonies, there is less of the ceremonial at night. The medicine-men, to the accompaniment of the basket drum, sing for a short time only on this sixth night, while outside the late evening is spent in dancing by those who are later to participate in the closing dance.
Seventh Day: This day is practically consumed with the making of another large dry-painting. The masked men go out on another begging tour, also, and the medicine ceremonies and the destroying of the dry-painting are practically the same as those of the day before, while during the evening the medicine-men sing to the accompaniment of the drum.
Eighth Day: The dry-painting is finished about three o'clock in the afternoon. After its completion there is a large open-air initiation. To become a full member of the Yébĭchai order one must first be initiated in the hogán; the second initiation is a public one; the third, another inside the hogán; the fourth, another in the open. These different initiation ceremonies, the same in point of ritualism, may be carried over several years.
Ninth and Final Day: To the average person and to the Indians as a whole the last day is the Yébĭchai dance. From[pg 122] a distance the Indians have been gathering during the two previous days, and the hospitality of the patient's family, as well as that of all the people living in the neighboring hogáns, is taxed to the utmost. And from early morning until dark the whole plain is dotted with horsemen coming singly and in groups. Great crowds gather at the contests given half a mile from the hogán, where horse-races, foot-races, groups of gamblers, and throngs of Indians riding wildly from race-track to hogán fill the day with hilarity and incidents memorable to all. Toward the end of the day preparation is made for the closing part of the nine-day rite. Great quantities of fuel have been brought from the distant plateau, and placed in many small piles at each side of the smooth dance ground to the east of the hogán. As soon as it is dark the fuel is ignited, making two long lines of camp-fires, furnishing both light to see the dancers and warmth to the spectators, for the Yébĭchai cannot be held until the autumn frosts begin, when the nights have the sharp, keen air of the high altitudes.
Zahadolzhá - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S. Curtis
This is the last of the dry-paintings used in the Night Chant, being destroyed on the night of the eighth day's ceremonies. It takes its name from the fact that the principal characters represented in it, the dark figures, are all Zahadolzhá, Fringe-mouth Gods. According to the myth underlying the rite these gods made the first paintings of this sort used among the spirit people, and were the ones who furnished succor to the patients on the eighth day of the nine days' healing ceremony. The light figures are female deities—haschĕbaád. In the centre is the cornstalk, a life-giving symbol, and partially encircling the whole is the personified light-giving rainbow, a female personage.
During the ceremony a man masked as a Zahadolzhá places his hands first upon a part of his likeness pictured in colored earths and then on the corresponding part of the patient, as head, body, and limbs. Later the colored earths or sands are carried away in a blanket and placed under brush or trees toward the north.
With the gathering darkness the human tide flows toward the medicine hogán, illuminated in the dusk by the long lines of camp-fires. All gather about and close around the dance square, having to be kept back by those in charge. Men, women, and children sit on the ground near the fires. Many on horseback have ridden up, and form a veritable phalanx back of the sitting spectators. The dance does not begin at once, and those assembled spend the time telling stories, jesting, and gossiping. Belated arrivals make coffee, or do hurried cooking around the fires.
Some distance to the east of the dance ground is a brush enclosure where the dancers prepare for their part in the rite. There, too, is a fire for light and warmth. The men in preparation remove all clothing, save short kilts, and paint their bodies with a mixture of water and white clay. Anyone who may have experienced the enjoyment of a sponge bath out in the open on a cold, windy night can appreciate the pleasure of the dance preparation. The dancers are impersonators of Navaho myth[pg 123] characters, twelve usually taking part. No qualifications are necessary other than that the participant be conversant with the intricate ritual of the dance. The dance continues throughout the entire night, one group of men being followed by another. The first twelve men dance through four songs, retiring to the dressing enclosure for a very brief rest after each. Then they withdraw, and twelve others dance for a like period, and so on. The first group sometimes returns again later, and the different groups vie with one another in their efforts to give the most beautiful dance in harmony of movement and song, but there is no change in the step. The several sets have doubtless trained for weeks, and the most graceful take great pride in being pronounced the best dancers. The first group of grotesquely masked men is ready by nine or ten o'clock; they file into the dance enclosure led by Hasché̆ltĭ, their naked, clay-painted bodies glinting in the firelight. While wearing masks the performers never speak in words; they only sing or chant. To address one in conversation would incur the displeasure of the gods and invite disaster. Time is kept by the basket drum and the rhythm of the singing.
The white visitor will get his best impression of the dance from a short distance, and, if possible, a slight elevation. There he is in touch with the stillness of the night under the starry sky, and sees before him, in this little spot lighted out of the limitless desert, this strange ceremonial of supplication and thanksgiving, showing slight, if any, change from the same performance, held on perhaps the same spot by the ancestors of these people[pg 124] ages ago. As the night wears on the best group of dancers come out. They are, perhaps, from the Redrock country, or from some other far-away district, and have been practising for weeks, that they might excel in this dance. The most revered song of the Yébĭchai is the Bluebird song, which is sung at the approach of day, and is the closing act of the drama. With the last words, "Dóla anyí, dóla anyí," the assembled multitude start for their homes, near and far, melting into the gray of the desert morn, and by the time the sun breaks above the horizon the spot which was alive with people a few hours before is wrapped in death-like stillness, not a soul being within range of the eye.
Yébĭchai Hogán - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis