MYTHOLOGY - CREATION MYTH
In the world below[5] there was no sun and no moon, and therefore no light, yet vegetation in innumerable forms and[pg 084] the animal people thrived. Among the latter were Gray Wolf people, Naklétso; Mountain Lion, Nashtuítso; Badger, Naaschí̆d; Locust, Wónĕschĭdĭ; Pine Squirrel, Klozĕslskái and Klozĕslzhí̆nĭ; Blue Fox, Mai-Dotlí̆shĭ; Yellow Fox, Mai-Iltsói; Owl, Náscha; Crow, Gấgĕ; Buzzard, Jésho; four different varieties of the Hawk people, and many others.
Navaho Still Life
From Copyright Photograph 1907 by E.S. Curtis
Their world was small. At its eastern rim stood a large white mountain, and at the south a blue one. These formed the home of Ástsĕ Hástĭn, First Man. A yellow mountain in the west and a black one in the north harbored Ástsĕ Ĕstsán, First Woman.[6] Near the mountain in the east a large river had its source and flowed toward the south. Along its western bank the people lived in peace and plenty. There was game in abundance, much corn, and many edible fruits and nuts. All were happy. The younger women ground corn while the boys sang songs and played on flutes of the sunflower stalk. The men and the women had each eight chiefs, four living toward each cardinal point; the chiefs of the men lived in the east and south, those of the women in the west and north. The chiefs of the east took precedence over those of the south, as did those of the west over those of the north.
One day, led by their eight brave chiefs, all the men went off on a hunt. It occurred to the head-chief when they had been gone but a short time that the women should have been instructed to clean the camp thoroughly and bake a quantity of bread while all the men were away; so he despatched the youngest of the four chiefs of the south to the camp to make[pg 085] known his wishes, but instead of doing as bidden, the young chief visited with the head-chief's wife. The hunters were gone four days, at the end of which time they returned with much game, weary and very hungry. To their surprise they found the camp in a very unkempt condition and no bread baked in anticipation of their return. The messenger was called before the head-chief at once and questioned as to the directions he had given the women. He explained that he had told the chief of the women what they were expected to do, but she refused to listen to him, and he was powerless to do more. Then the head-chief went to his wife and demanded to know why she had refused to issue his orders to the women. She curtly replied that that was her business and not his; as it was, the women did more work than the men, for they tilled the fields, made the clothing, cared for the children, and did the cooking, while the men did practically nothing, so if they chose to spend a few days in idleness, it was nothing more than they had a right to do and no one's concern but their own. The chief became angry, and during a quarrel that ensued he was told that he and all his followers might leave if they would, for the women could get along better without them.
Remonstrance and reasoning availed nothing; the chief of the women grew more vehement as she argued, so the head-chief determined to put the women to the test. The following morning he issued orders that all the men in camp prepare to depart, for the women had declared they could live better independently of them and were to be given an opportunity to do so.
Having decided to cross the great river flowing from the east, work at once began on four large cottonwood rafts to be used as ferries. Four days it took to put all in readiness, and at dawn of the fifth day the crossing of the stream began. Orders were issued that all food supplies, clothing, and utensils be left with the women, save enough seed corn to plant crops the next spring, and no males, infant or aged, were to be left behind. Four nú̆tlĭ (hermaphrodites) objected strongly at being taken from the women, but were forced to join the men, as they were needed[pg 086] to care for the babies. Four old cripples, too weak to move, were left behind, but other than these not a male inhabitant remained in the old village at the end of four days. After all had crossed the river, the rafts were fastened securely to the bank in order that the women might not get them and follow.
Navaho Medicine-man
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
As soon as the men had landed they began to work with zeal, for houses had to be built, game caught, skins tanned, and land prepared for crops. They suffered much from scarcity of food and clothing the first winter, but managed to exist. The women, however, had bountiful crops, and all through the late fall and winter could be heard revelling in great delight, feasting daily and dancing much of the time to the music of songs sung by the four old cripples. The following autumn found the men in much better circumstances, for they had grown small crops; but the women were less fortunate. Having none but themselves to work and provide for, they had become negligent from the beginning, dissipating the contents of their granaries and allowing their fields to grow fallow. By the end of the second year clothing had become very scarce, and not knowing how to hunt, they had no way to obtain more skins. The men, on the contrary, had grown more prosperous; their well-tended farms yielded an ample supply of corn for the winter, and the pelts of deer and antelope furnished a deal of warm clothing and bedding. The third year found the men living in ease and comfort, while the women had become reduced to absolute want, many having fallen ill from self-neglect. They called across to the men, pleading to be taken over and promising faithful allegiance, but the chief was resolute and refused to forget how he had been wronged.
Then it was that the youngest of the eight ruling men, in a moment of compassion, confessed his guilt, admitting in a plea to the head-chief for clemency that he was in fact responsible for the attitude his wife had taken. This served only to renew the old chief's anger; he stoutly refused to listen to further appeals and expressed his regret that the first seeds of wrong should have been thus sown. No longer able to keep up the fight,[pg 087] with starvation staring them in the face, and being in nakedness, at the end of the fourth year the women attempted to swim the river in parties, but the attempts resulted only in death, for the swift current would have been too much even for the strongest men to buffet. Seeing this self-sacrifice and realizing that the race would be ultimately exterminated if the women continued it much longer, appeals were made daily to the head-chief to permit the rescue of the remainder. Four times was he sought to grant such permission before he consented, then at dawn of the fifth morning he gave directions to loose the rafts and ferry the women over. A miserable remnant they were, unclad, wan, and wasted; but a return to the old habits of life soon restored them to their former selves, and peace, happiness, and prosperity reigned again.
The broad river that flowed from the east had its source in two very large springs, a he-spring and a she-spring, in which lived two large Water Monsters. These had a pair of youngsters who delighted in emerging from the depths of the spring and swimming out across the meadows in the shallow water where there was neither current nor river banks. Coyote spied them one day, and being ever a meddler and trouble-maker—though withal a fellow of polished mien—stole them, putting the two under the folds of his jacket.
Now there was no sun, moon, or stars to give light; but in the east every morning appeared White Dawn four fingers high. The midday was lighted by Blue Dawn in the south, and late afternoon by Yellow Dawn from the west. The north remained always dark. On the morning following Coyote's return from his trip to the east, ostensibly to discover, if possible, the source of the dawn, the head-chief noticed that it was not so broad as usual—only three fingers high, with a dark streak beneath. A Wolf man was sent to learn what was wrong. He hurried off, returning at nightfall with the report that all was well in the east. The next morning White Dawn was much narrower and the darkness beneath had increased. A Mountain Lion messenger was despatched to seek the cause. He reported everything[pg 088] in normal condition, but those in camp noticed deer in the distance travelling westward at a rapid pace. The third morning the belt of darkness was wider than White Dawn, which now gave an alarmingly dim light. The chief then sent White Hawk to investigate the trouble, under orders of haste. His report, like that of each of the other messengers, was that nothing unusual appeared in the east. More deer, antelope, and other game animals, however, were seen running westward in apparent fright.
Through the Canon - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
On the fourth morning White Dawn was entirely obscured; nothing but darkness appeared in the east. Sparrow-hawk sped away, returning in a very brief time with the report that water was fast rising in the two springs at the head of the river and might soon spread westward in a great devastating wave. Instantly the camp became a scene of commotion. Quickly gathering together what corn and other seeds they could carry, the people started in haste for the White Mountain in the east. On reaching the top they saw the waters climbing rapidly up the eastern slope, so they descended and ran to the Blue Mountain in the south, taking with them handfuls of earth from its crest, and from its base a reed with twelve sections, which a Wolf man carried.
From the top of the Blue Mountain it was seen that the wave of water, fast approaching, would submerge them, so snatching handfuls of earth from it they hurried on to the Yellow Mountain in the west. The oncoming wave seemed higher than ever, so again they ran on, this time toward the north, where the Black Mountain stood, taking as before handfuls of earth and another reed, entrusted to Mountain Lion. Here the water surrounded them and slowly crept up the sides of the mountain. The female reed from the west was planted on the western side near the top, the male reed from the east on the eastern slope, and both at once began to shoot upward rapidly. Into the twelve internodes of the female reed climbed all the women, while the men made haste to get into theirs. Turkey being the last to get in, the foamy waters caught his tail, whitening the tips of the feathers, which are so to this day.
The reeds grew very rapidly, but equally fast rose the waters around them. Four days the reeds grew thus, at the end of the fourth day meeting at the sky. This seemed an impenetrable barrier for a time, but Locust had taken with him his bow of darkness and sacred arrows. With these he made a hole in the sky and passed on into the world above—the present earth.
The earth was small, devoid of vegetation of any kind, and covered in greater part by water in which lived four Monsters with great blue horns. These had their homes at the cardinal points, and just as soon as Locust made his appearance arrows came whizzing at him from all quarters. Failing to harm him with their arrows, which he dodged with ease, the Monsters bade him leave at once, threatening immediate death if he tarried; adding that visitors were not desired and were always destroyed at sight.
Locust replied that he intended no harm, but would insist upon remaining with them for a time, for he had many followers for whom he was seeking a home. Seeing that Locust had no fear of them and had proved too agile to be hit with arrows, the Monsters sought to kill him by trickery. Each took two heavy arrows, swallowed them, and pulled them out through their flanks, saying, "Do this and you may remain." Locust followed their example, escaping unharmed.
"Now," said he, "I did your trick, let me ask you to do one of mine." Then taking four sacred arrows he passed them transversely through his chest, back and forth, one at a time. As he pulled each arrow out the second time he passed it to one of the four Monsters, saying, "If you can do this, my people will not come; if not, then I shall send for them and we shall all make this our home." Each placed an arrow to his chest and pushed, but cringed with pain as soon as it penetrated the skin. Fearing the Monsters might not proceed, Locust quickly blew toward each of the arrows, which shot through their bodies, instantly killing them. In the east now flows Red river, made red by the blood of these Monsters; and holes yet remain through the thorax of the locust.
Impatient at the delay in Locust's return, Badger climbed through the hole in the sky and followed the tracks to where Locust had been in controversy with the slain Monsters. Seeing their bodies lying out in the shallow water, he thought he would go over and inspect them, but he sank into the soft black mud, which made him retreat. The mud blackened his legs, which have remained the same to this day.
Evening in the Desert - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
With a large stone knife Locust cut off the horns of the Monsters one by one. With those from the one toward the east he made a long sweep with his arm in that direction, and in the distance sprang up an ocean. In like manner he formed oceans to the south, west, and north with the horns of the remaining three. The creation of rivers followed: with a wave of the hand the Rio Grande, the San Juan, the Colorado, the Little Colorado, and others were made. Hair pulled from the bodies of the Monsters was tossed to the winds and from it sprang frogs, snakes, lizards, and reptiles of every kind.
While Locust was doing this the remainder of the people came up. They stood about on the small bare spots of ground wondering what to do. Among them were the four Winds (Ní̆lchi), Black, Blue, Yellow, and White. Each blew toward his respective cardinal point and soon much of the water dried up, leaving a quantity of bare land. But not a sign of vegetation was there at any hand; all was as barren as the desert sands. Luckily each had brought seeds of many kinds from the world below. These they began planting, finishing the task in four days.
After the planting, First Man, First Woman, Wolf Chief, and Mountain Lion Chief each made a speech advising the creation of a number of mountains similar to the ones they had had in the lower world. This was agreeable to all, and accordingly the work was begun. The handfuls of earth caught up hurriedly from the tops of the mountains below as they were driven off by the rising flood were taken to the cardinal points and deposited in the same relative positions, an equal distance apart, as were the submerged mountains from which the earth had been taken. First Sí̆snajĭnĭ, the White Mountain, was[pg 091] made in the east; then Tsótzĭlh, the Blue Mountain, in the south; next Dokóöslit, the Yellow Mountain, in the west, and lastly Dĕpé̆nsa, the Black Mountain, in the north. Having yet portions of each handful of earth remaining, two more mountains, called Chóĭli and Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, were made near the point of emergence in the middle of the rectangle formed by the creation of the other four. To give each mountain color, white shell, turquoise, abalone, and jet were used for those at the cardinal points, while the middle two were colored with a mixture of all these substances.
When the mountains were finished and the people looked about, it was proposed that a sky should be made to cover the earth. "But," said one, "what of the earth itself; is it not too small to furnish food for the people who shall later come to live upon it?" None had thought of this, but reflection, followed by a discussion, brought them all to the one opinion—they would enlarge the earth and at the same time spread the sky above. Accordingly, the chief who had spoken asked if anyone had a piece of turquoise weighing as much as a man, and the skin of a large male deer which had been smothered to death in pollen. First Man answered that he had. A large white shell and the skin of a doe which had been smothered in pollen were next requested. First Woman responded with them. The two skins were then placed on the ground, side by side, with their heads toward the east. Upon the one was put the turquoise and a piece of abalone shell; on the other the white shell and a pearl. First Man and First Woman then called for Kósdĭlhkĭh, Black Cloud, and Ádĭlhkĭh, Black Fog. These came and spread out over the skins four times each, lifting and settling each time. When Fog lifted the last time it took up with it the skin with the turquoise and abalone and began to expand, spreading wider and wider until a blue film covered all, in the form of the sky. As the turquoise skin expanded, so also did the white-shell skin, broadening the earth as it grew. During this period of transition the people all travelled eastward, and being Holy People, covered great distances[pg 092] each day. At the end of the fourth day they stopped. Then also the sky and the earth ceased widening, having reached their present dimensions. Since the two skins had been placed with their heads toward the east, the heads of the sky and the earth are now in that direction.
Hasché̆ltĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
This, the Talking God, is the chief character in Navaho mythology. In the rites in which personated deities minister to a suffering patient this character invariably leads, carrying a four-piece folding wand, balíl, and uttering a peculiar cry.
As yet there was neither sun nor moon to shed light, only dawn, circling the horizon in the four colors—white in the east, blue in the south, yellow in the west, and black in the north. Deeming it necessary that they should have light to brighten the world, and warmth for the corn and the grass, on their return to the earth's centre one of the chiefs made a speech advocating the creation of a sun and a moon.
First Man and First Woman placed two sacred deerskins on the ground as before. On the buckskin a shell of abalone was placed, on the doeskin a bowl made of pearl. The shell contained a piece of clear quartz crystal, and the bowl a moss agate. The objects were dressed respectively in garments of white, blue, yellow, and black wind, and were carried to the end of the land in the east by First Man and First Woman. With their spirit power Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán sent both the shell and the bowl far out over the ocean, giving life to the crystal and the agate as they did so, directing that the one who would be known as Chĕhonaái, the Sun, should journey homeward through the sky by day, shedding light and warmth as he passed; the other, Klĕhonaái, the Moon, must travel the same course by night. To each were given homes of turquoise in the east and west, and none but the Winds and the gods, Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan, were to visit them.
Upon their return Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán were asked if they would leave the sky in so plain a condition, or if they intended to beautify it with jewels. They replied that it was their intention to dot it with many bright stars. All those who had bits of white shell, turquoise, crystal, pearl, or abalone were directed to contribute them for the making of the stars. These were placed upon the two deerskins by First Man and First Woman. The seven stars of the Great Dipper, Nôhokos Bakú̆n,[pg 093] were the first to be set in the sky. Next, those of Nóhokos Baád, his female complement, were placed in the blue dome. Then followed Ĕté̆tso and Ĕtĕtsózĭ, Sóntso and Sontsózĭ, and Dílgĕhĕt, the Small Dipper, Sonhótsĭ and Klĕkái Stáĭ, the Milky Way.
In each instance the arrangement of the stars in the constellation was made when the fragments of precious stones were placed upon the skins, where Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán imparted glowing light to them and delivered them to the Winds to carry to the sky. Only a small portion of the gems had been thus transformed and sent up, when a fine-looking, well-dressed stranger came up to watch the proceedings. In reply to his question as to what was being done, his attention was directed to the sun, the moon, and the many stars already created, while more were soon to follow. The man was Coyote, son of Darkness. He watched the work for a time, when, seeing his chance, he caught the large deerskin containing the pile of jewel fragments and flung it skyward, blowing into the bits four times ere they could fall, scattering them all over the sky. Thus it is that there are myriads of stars irregular in arrangement and without names. As he strode off Coyote explained curtly that there were already enough sacred things to worship.
Then the Winds were stationed at the horizon to guard the earth, and at the four sacred mountains in the east, south, west, and north, to act as messengers for the Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan—Talking Gods and House Gods—who had their abodes on them. On the same plane, one behind the other, the Winds were ranged in streaks, White, Blue, Yellow, and Black. Outside of all Coyote placed a streak of Red Wind. This forced itself to the inside many years later and gave rise to disease and premature death, for as the good Winds are life-breathing, so the evil Winds are life-taking. Even now the Red Wind takes the lives of many children every year.
Haschógan - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
Second in general importance only to Hasché̆ltĭ among Navaho deities is the House God, here shown. His position among the gods is quite parallel with that of peace chief among Indians in life. Like the majority of the myth characters he has numerous counterparts in the various world quarters.
The Dĭgí̆n made their homes near Chóĭli, close to the place of emergence. It was there that all ceremonies took place. From their homes the people saw a dark Cloud settle and cover the top of Chóĭli. For four days it kept lowering until the mountain was completely shrouded in dark blue fog. They did not know whether it portended good or evil, but realized that something of moment was at hand. Ástsĕ Hástĭn ascended the mountain through the fog to learn what it meant, but found nothing unusual. As he turned to descend, a faint, apparently distant cry reached his ears, but he paid no heed. Ere long the same sound came to him again; then a third and a fourth time, whereupon he turned and walked in the direction whence it came. On the eastern slope he found a tiny baby, and wrapping it in rays of sunbeams he carried it home to his wife.
The Cloud that descended was a portion of the sky which had come to meet the Earth; from the union of the two Yólkai Ĕstsán, White-Shell Woman, was born. In twelve days the baby had grown to maturity, subsisting on pollen only. Ástsĕ Hástĭn and Ástsĕ Ĕstsán sent messengers to all the Dĭgín to tell them of the marvel and to summon them to a ceremony which would be held four days later. Word was sent also to the gods on the four sacred mountains.
Ástsĕ Ĕstsán dressed Yólkai Ĕstsán in fine garments ornamented with beautiful jewels. At the western side of her hogán she placed a sacred deerskin and laid upon it several wool and cotton blankets, covering the whole with a mountain-lion skin. These were arranged as the seat of honor for White-Shell Woman, for whom was about to be held a ceremony celebrating her maturity.
On the appointed day all assembled. The first matter to decide was the number of songs to be sung. Some wished fourteen, others thought twelve sufficient. Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, sang the songs and chose to sing fourteen. When he had finished, each of the Holy People sang six songs, making in all two hundred and eighty-two. An entire night was thus consumed. At dawn Ástsĕ Ĕstsán came into the hogán with a white-shell bowl containing yucca root, a black tózŭs, or water bottle,[pg 095] containing black rain, and a blue one with blue rain. From each bottle she poured a little water upon the yucca root and proceeded to wash Yólkai Ĕstsán and all her finery. That done, Yólkai Ĕstsán was directed to run toward the rising sun for a short distance and return. Many of the young people followed, a chosen singer chanting eight songs during their absence. The ceremony finished, the assemblage returned to their homes, each of the selected singers taking one of the blankets from the seat in return for his services.
Although all the people then on earth were of the Dĭgí̆n, only a few had god-like powers, particularly First Man, First Woman, Yólkai Ĕstsán, and the Winds. The lesser Holy Ones worked much in clay, making pottery and adobe houses. The designs they used in their earthenware, however, were of a sacred nature, to be used only in ceremonials, and when the Fox, Wolf, Badger, Bird, and many other people repeatedly employed sacred symbols to adorn their cooking pots, First Man and his wife became very angry and called a council, which, in addition to themselves, was attended by Chĕhonaái, Yólkai Ĕstsán, and Ní̆lchi, the Wind People.
The wicked people had homes throughout the land, many of which were built of stone, upon the plains, and others in the cliffs. The councillors decided that these people and their homes must be destroyed, but how to effect this was a problem.
First Woman and Chĕhonaái thought it would be wise to give birth to demoniac monsters and let them devour the evil ones, but First Man objected, and finally the council agreed that the Winds should perform the task by bringing forth a devastating storm. The faithful were warned and given time to seek refuge under the water, inside the sacred mountains, in the higher cliffs, and in the sky. Then the Winds came. For four days terrific storms raged, hurling men and trees and houses through the air like leaves. When they abated hundreds of houses lay[pg 096] in ruins which may yet be traced by heaps of stones scattered throughout the Navaho country.
Antelope Ruin - Canon del Muerto
From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis
Soon another council of the same dictators was called, this time to discuss how more people might be created. First Man sent Wind messengers to bring Black Fog Boy and Black Cloud Girl, Precious Stone Boy and Precious Stone Girl, White Corn Boy and Yellow Corn Girl, Blue Corn Boy and All-Color Corn Girl, Pollen Boy and Cricket Girl, and Rain Boy and Rain Girl. These twelve were laid side by side on four sacred deerskins and covered with four others. The Spirit Winds of the west came and blew between the skins; the Spirit Winds of the east came and blew also; then came Hasché̆ltĭ from the east, with rainbows in his hand, calling "Wu-hu-hu-hu-u"; and Haschógan from the south, with sunbeams in his hand. They walked up and gently tapped the skins with their bows and beams. Hasché̆ltĭ of the west and Haschógan of the north came next and gently tapped the skins. Then the skins lifted, revealing twelve beautiful young people perfectly formed. Ástsĕ Hástĭn bade them arise and stand, and then with Hasché̆ltĭ in the lead and Haschógan behind, they four times encircled the sacred mountains Chóĭli and Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, halting close to the hole whence the Holy People emerged. There Ástsĕ Hástĭn made them an extended speech, telling them that they had been brought forth from the elements to people the earth; that they must rear children and care for them as kind fathers and mothers, teaching them to be good to one another; and that it would be necessary for them to plant corn and other seeds at once. The Dĭgí̆n, First Man continued, were about to leave, to go into the rivers, the oceans, the cliffs, the mountains, off to the horizon, and to the sky, but they would ever keep watch over their people and would help those who showed them respect and reverence in prayer and song. To Yólkai Ĕstsán was entrusted future guardianship of the people. It would be her duty to furnish the he-rain and the she-rain, to fructify all crops, and bring forth abundant grass and seeds.
Then the Dĭgí̆n took their departure, vanishing the people knew not whither. Yólkai Ĕstsán turned westward to her whiteshell[pg 097] home on the horizon, far out across the wide waters. Arriving there she determined to make a few more people. Cuticle rubbed from her body, with bits of white shell, turquoise, abalone, and jet, she placed between two sacred deerskins, male and female, and called for the Spirit Winds of the east, the Spirit Winds of the west, Hasché̆ltĭ and Haschógan, who came and breathed upon and tapped the deerskins as once before, and lo! there arose four pairs of people.
Each pair was given a walking-stick—one of white shell to one, staffs of turquoise, abalone, and jet respectively to the others. Black Fog and Black Cloud came and spread out over the water. Upon these the new people took up their journey eastward to join others like themselves. For four days they travelled on Fog and Cloud, reaching the earth at the end of the fourth day, where, on the following day, they were welcomed by Chĕhonaái, the Sun. There, too, the Bear, the Wolf, the Great Snake, the Mountain Lion, the Weasel, and the Porcupine met them at the direction of Yólkai Ĕstsán, to guard them on their long land journey. The Lightning also she made, to protect them from above.
They journeyed eastward, stopping to camp and rest at the end of the first day. For water they had but to prod the earth with their walking-sticks and a spring gushed forth. The first of the four, the man of White Shell, stuck his staff into the ground and water came up at once. "The water is close," he remarked, from which speech he took his name, for the others henceforth called him To Ahánĭ, Water Is Close. The following night the Turquoise Woman brought water, but it was bitter, so she said, from which fact she took her name of To Dĭchínĭ, Bitter Water. The man who tried for water on the third night found only a muddy flow, so the others called him Hashklí̆shnĭ, Mud. The fourth night they camped in sight of the Dĭné̆ (Navaho) whom they had come to join. The woman of the fourth pair called attention to the houses in the caves, after which they called her Kí̆nya Ánĭ, Houses in the Cliffs.[7]
The following day they were welcomed by the twelve who had been created and given dominion over the land but a short time before, and from these twenty have the pure-blood Navaho descended.
MIRACLE PERFORMERS
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
Two of the most important characters in Navaho mythology are twin miracle-performing sons of White-Shell Woman, Yólkai Ĕstsán, chief goddess. This plate pictures the leader of the two—the first conceived and the first-born, whose father is the sun. His name means "Slayer of Alien Gods," from aná, alien; ye, gods; agánĭ, to kill. By him, with the assistance of Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, his twin brother, were killed numerous bird, animal, rock, and human monsters, typifying evils, who wantonly destroyed human life.
When the Spirit People came upon this earth from below they made six sacred mountains, four on the distant horizon at the cardinal points and two in the centre, Chóĭli and Tzĭlhnúhodĭíhlĭ. On the eastern slope of Chóĭli, brought forth as the daughter of Earth and Sky, was born Yólkai Estsán, White-Shell Woman. First Man took her to his home near Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, where she matured in twelve days into a beautiful woman with supernatural powers. Later she lived in a home of her own at the foot of this mountain. It was while there that she gave birth to twin boys who became saviours of their people, slaying alien gods who were fast depopulating the earth.
Yólkai Estsán would often lie on the eastern slope of the mountain as the sun rose through the morning, and when the day grew warm would seek the shade of jutting rocks from which trickled shining drops of water. Quite unknown to herself she had conceived one day from the sunbeams and the dripping water. When she became aware that she was to become a mother Yólkai Ĕstsán was made very happy, for she did not enjoy living alone. Soon she found herself the proud possessor of twin boys. The first-born and the stronger came to be known in his youth as Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, Slayer of Alien Gods; the other was always known as Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, Born From Water. Their prenatal life covered a period of only twelve days, and maturity was attained in thirty-two days after passing through eight changes, one of which came every four days.
At that time the earth was infested with great giants, foreign gods, who were rapidly destroying the people. Of these, Yéĭtso, Big God, as large as a mountain, was the only one in human[pg 099] form. The others were Man-eating Bird, Rolling Stone, that crushed all in its path, Tracking Bear, and Antelope, who killed without mercy. Fearing lest some of these monsters learn of the presence of her boys, Yólkai Ĕstsán kept them hidden away on the mountain side, but they chafed under confinement, so she made them bows and arrows and let them play about, but admonished them not to stray far from home. The boys promised to obey, but not long afterward, because in reply to their questions their mother told them she did not know who their father was, they became sulky and broke their promise, going off toward the east. They would go and search for someone who knew. When on a small knoll a long way from home they heard a whispered "Sh-h."
"Are you afraid, my younger brother?" asked Nayé̆nĕzganĭ.
"No!" was the quick response.
Four times they heard the whisper, and then two of the Wind People appeared. "We saw you travelling eastward," said they, "and came to caution you. The land is cursed with alien gods who kill for pleasure; beware of them! Why do you journey thus alone without your father?"
"Our father! Alas, we know nothing of him and are now starting on a search to learn. Do you know who he is?" asked the boys.
"Yes, the Sun is your father; but if you think to find him you will have to travel far eastward and cross the wide, wide waters."
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ turned to his younger brother and said, "Sítsĭlĭ, let us go."
The Sun was then overhead. Being in fact of a holy nature, the boys covered distance rapidly and by mid-afternoon had passed well beyond the limits of their homeland. There they[pg 100] came upon an old woman sitting beside a ladder projecting from a hole. She asked them who they were and whither they were going. They told her to the Sun, whose sons they were, but whom they had never seen.
Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
This is Born From Water, the second of the twin miracle-performing sons of Yólkai Ĕstsán, the White-Shell Woman. His brother is Nayé̆nĕzganĭ.
"I pity you, my grandchildren," said the old woman; "come in here and rest a moment before going on." She started down the ladder and the boys followed. Twelve ladders were descended before her home was reached. The old woman was Spider Woman, the little grandmother who belonged to the Holy Ones. Her home was well kept, clean and comfortable, and the boys were glad to rest. Said she, "My grandchildren, your journey is long and many trials will beset you before you reach the end. Take these life feathers; they will help you; if difficulties befall you, use them," and she gave to each two feathers plucked from a living eagle.
The boys took the feathers, thanked her, and resumed their journey. After travelling a long way they came to a ridge of loose, yellow sand. It afforded poor footing for an ascent, but the boys struggled to the top, only to have the whole side of the ridge slide and carry them back. Three times the bank gave way as they were about to reach its crest; on the fourth trial they bethought themselves of the sacred feathers, and putting them on their feet marched readily over.
They travelled unimpeded then for quite a long distance, in time coming to four rows of tall, thorny reeds with spiked branches. The reeds grew far enough apart to permit travellers to pass into them, but closed whenever the unwary allowed himself to be caught, and he never escaped. The boys marched boldly up to the reeds and started in, then darted back quickly. The reeds closed instantly, but did not catch them. Then they put the life feathers on their feet again and jumped over all four rows.
The next obstacle was a deep cañon with precipitous walls. This, however, was not a serious impediment, for the life feathers, as before, helped them to cross it in one bound. By nightfall the boys had arrived at a broad, beautiful meadow where lived the Wósakĭdĭ, or Grasshopper People, who received them kindly,[pg 101] giving them food and beds for the night. On being asked whither they were bound, the boys replied that they were journeying to the home of the Sun, their father, whom they had never seen.
The Wósakĭdĭ cautioned the boys of dangers ahead, and as they were about to depart in the morning gave them little balls of yellow sputum to put in their mouths to prevent poisoning, should they find it necessary to eat or smoke among hostile people, and two sacred wands of turquoise and white shell. Two of the Wósakĭdĭ also accompanied them for a time as guides.
They had not been long on their way when they came to a place where the trail ran between two high, smooth-faced bowlders. "These," said their Wósakĭdĭ companions, "are the Bumping Rocks. If you step into that narrow passageway between them they will crash together and kill you." The boys started as if to enter, but fell back. The huge rocks came violently together, but did no harm. The feint was made three times, and each time the rocks crashed together and bounded back. The fourth time the boys entered they placed their sacred wands of turquoise and white shell across the gap above their heads and passed through, for these held the bowlders apart. As they emerged on the opposite side they saw the Sun rising from his eastern home and he was yet far away.
Soon a wide stretch of water was encountered; so far as they could see there was nothing but water. Here again they used their life feathers and were carried safely over. Four successive stretches of water and land were crossed, and still a fifth sheet of water lay before them. Along its shores paddled many varieties of animals. The boys looked out across the deep and could discern away out in the centre a house of turquoise and white shell, its roof glistening in the sunlight. Certain that it must be the home of their father, they readjusted their life feathers to start across, but found that they had lost control over them. They tried them several times in different places, but to no avail.[pg 102] The thought of not reaching their father's house when so near filled their hearts with bitter disappointment. Seemingly there was naught that they could do, but they sat and pondered.
Hasché̆zhĭnĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
Black God, the God of Fire. An important deity of the Navaho, but appearing infrequently in their mythology and ceremonies.
As they sat there in silence, Snipe Man, a little old fellow, came to them and asked, "Where do you go, my grandchildren?"
"To the home of the Sun," the boys replied.
"Do you know anyone there?"
"Yes," said they, "the Sun is our father." Thereupon Snipe Man placed a rainbow bridge across the water and told them to pass on, first warning them against two large Bears, the Lightning, Snakes, and Wind, who guarded the home of the Sun. They crossed over the rainbow bridge, which took them almost to the door of the house, and there they were met by the Bears with bristling coats. Nayé̆nĕzganĭ spoke to them, saying, "I am the child of Yólkai Ĕstsán." They let him pass. Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ uttered the same words and passed on also. The same words took the boys past the Lightning, the Snakes, and the Wind, and they entered the house, going through four doorways before coming to the living-rooms in the interior.
There they found an elderly woman, radiantly beautiful, with two handsome boys and girls, the like of whom they had never seen. They stood transfixed as if in a dream until the voice of the beautiful woman, who was the wife of the Sun, startled them, demanding to know how they dared to enter a sacred place forbidden to all save the Dĭgí̆n.
Nayé̆nĕzganĭ replied, saying, "This is the end of our journey. We came to see our father, the Sun and this we are told is his home."
The wife raged with anger, making dire threats against her husband if what the boys asserted were true, which she did not doubt since they had found it possible to gain entrance to her home. Could it be that he was the father of many of whom she knew nothing? She would find out. Surely he must have smiled upon most ugly creatures if these two boys were his sons!
It was about time for the Sun to return. As his wife thought of what he might do to the boys, her anger turned to compassion,[pg 103] and she bade them wrap themselves in the clouds that hung on the wall, and hide. Ere long a great rattle was heard outside, and a moment later the Sun came striding in and hung up his glistening shield. "What strangers are here?" he asked. There was no answer. Again he asked the question, repeating it a third time and a fourth, waxing angry. Then his wife began to scold. She told him that two boys of his, the ugliest creatures she had ever looked upon, had come to see their father, and demanded to know what it meant. "Where are they?" asked the Sun; but his wife did not reply to the question; instead she kept on scolding. The Sun looked about, and noting a change in the clouds that hung upon the western wall, took them down and unfolded them, until he discovered Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ.
The Sun became angrier than ever and determined to have done with the trouble at once by killing the boys. From the eastern wall of the room projected numerous sharp spikes of white shell. There were turquoise spikes in the southern, abalone in the western, and jet in the northern walls. The boys were each hurled against the first of these, but dropped to the floor unharmed; then against the second, the third, and the fourth, with a like result. On the floor near the walls sat four large mortars with heavy pestles in them. The boys were placed in each of these successively and pounded, as their father thought, into fragments, but out of this also they came unharmed.
The Sun then waved them to a seat and brought forth four large pipes, two of abalone and two of lignite. He handed two of each to the boys, saying, "I wish you to have a good smoke."
"Beware!" whispered the Wind. "His tobacco is poisoned!"
The boys deftly sought the little balls they had received from the Wósakĭdĭ, slipped them into their mouths, and began puffing. When the first pipefuls were finished they laid the pipes on the floor and picked up the other two, showing no sign of distress.
Seeing that the poison tobacco was having no effect on the youthful strangers, the Sun sent for Haschógan and Hasché̆zhĭnĭ,[pg 104] the House God and the Fire God, to come and build a sweat-house and heat large stones as hot as they could be made, so that they might burst into fragments and fill the sweat-lodge with scalding steam when water was poured upon them. By the time the boys had finished their second pipes, which proved as harmless as the others, the little house and heated stones were ready. Haschógan made the lodge of stone and covered it with earth, erecting double walls on the northern side with a space between, into which he provided an entrance from the inside, concealed with a flat stone slab.
Ganaskĭdĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
This is the personation of the Navaho God of Harvest. The name signifies "Hunchback." He is represented always in a stooping posture, carrying a staff to aid him in supporting a burden of corn, bean, pumpkin, and other seeds which he carries upon his back. The personation is conventional, rather than literal, in intent.
The Sun looked into the lodge, saw that it was tight, and told the boys to enter. As they passed in Haschógan whispered, "Get behind the stone slab on the north!" Then Hasché̆zhĭnĭ rolled in several red-hot bowlders and closed the entrance tightly with heavy cloud blankets. White, blue, yellow, and black water was then thrown in, and there followed the sounds of the sizzling steam and bursting stones; fragments could be heard striking the walls on all sides. After a short while the boys heard the voice of their father call out from the east, "Are you warm?" They gave no response. He called again from the south, but received no answer; then from the west; all was silence. "Surely I am rid of them at last," thought he. He called once again from the north, and to his great surprise received a reply. The sweat-house had cooled enough to permit the boys to emerge from their hiding-place, so their cheerful voices came from near the doorway.
"These must be my sons," thought the Sun, and throwing back the blankets from the door he embraced them. "My children, whence came you and how did you get here?"
The story of their home at Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ, of their long journey across land and water, and of the many obstacles encountered, was soon told. Then the Sun directed his wife and daughters to remould the boys and make them as handsome as themselves. When that was done all entered the house, where on the walls hung many beautiful strings of turquoise, abalone, white-shell, and jet beads, and plates of armor. These were[pg 105] offered to the boys, but they refused them, saying they cared not for jewels, preferring instead to have lightning arrows, strong bows, and heavy knives with which to battle with the giant alien gods who were destroying people in all parts of the earth. The Sun gave them the weapons desired, and when it came time to resume his journey across the sky he took his newfound sons with him.
Near Tsótzĭlh, the sacred mountain of the south, lived Yéĭtso, the Big God. The boys wished to try their skill on him first, so their father let them down from the sky upon that mountain. The giant was drinking from a lake and saw the reflection of his new enemies as they dropped upon the mountain. He straightened up quickly and sent an arrow aimed for the body of Nayé̆nĕzganĭ, but the boy dodged quickly and responded with a bolt of lightning which stripped the armor from Yéĭtso's feet. Three more shafts of lightning struck the armor from the hips, body, and head of this fiercest of giants, exposing his vitals to the attack of the boys, who filled him with arrows, killing him instantly. The Big God's blood began to flow down a cañon. Nayé̆nĕzganĭ drew a line across its path with his stone knife, and the blood ceased flowing onward, rising in a wall across the cañon's head, over which now plunges a beautiful waterfall.
The brothers then set off for home, taking the heart of their slain enemy with them. Arriving at Tzĭlhnúhodĭhlĭ they found their mother in tears, for she was certain that her boys had been killed and devoured by monsters. Though unchanged in size, so altered were they in appearance that Yólkai Ĕstsán could not believe them to be her own boys whom she was mourning as dead, but the story of their adventures from the time they had left home was soon told, and all rejoiced.
In the days following, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ made incursions into the lands of the alien gods, killing them all and freeing the earth from the dread and curse of these man-killing[pg 106] monsters. The first to meet destruction at their hands when they took up their deliberate search for giants was Déĭlgĕt, Giant Antelope, who had great blue horns upon which he tossed people to death. The next accosted was Tsĕ Nahálĭ, the preying Mountain Eagle, and soon after they sought and killed Tsĕtahídzĭlhtúhlĭ, Among The Rocks He Kicks Them Down The Mountain. Then Bĭnáyeaganĭ, Who Kills With His Eyes, met death, followed shortly after by Tsé̆agai, Rolling Bowlder, and Sŭsh Nalkái, Tracking Bear, the last to lose their lives at the hands of the youthful warriors, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ and Tobadzĭschínĭ, who have since remained the War Gods of the Navaho.
LEGEND OF THE HAPPINESS CHANT
Tónenĭlĭ - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
Tónenĭlĭ, Water Sprinkler, is the Rain God of the Navaho. He it is who sends the rain, the hail, and the snow, and causes thunder and lightning. The personator of this god in the ceremonies assumes the additional character of a clown and as such creates much merriment in the dances in which he appears. His apparel consists principally of spruce boughs and a mask.
The Hozhónĭ Hatál, or Happiness Chant, is a nine-days' chant held inside a hogán, and like many of the Navaho ceremonies, it was derived from another tribe. The myth relating to it tells of a renowned warrior who had two beautiful sisters whom he wished to see married, but only to men who should first prove their strength and valor in a feat of arms; so word was sent to all the young men of the warrior's tribe to gather at his home on a certain day, prepared for war, if they wished to enter a contest he would then propose. The girls being coveted prizes, a goodly number of warriors, painted and dressed in full war regalia, assembled on the appointed day, among them being two old, white-haired brothers, of an alien tribe, who had recently come to live near the Navaho people. The young chief protested at the presence of the old men, declaring that they would only sacrifice their lives in the first combat, for they could have no possible hope of success. The two persisted, however, and were allowed to remain in the van.
Four-days journey from the Navaho country was a village of the Áya Kĭnné̆, Have Holes For Houses, enemies from early times. They also prided themselves on having two very beautiful girls, upon whom many admiring young men of the tribe bestowed valuable presents of turquoise, shell beads, and other jewels. One[pg 107] of these wondrous beauties wore her hair plaited always with rich strings of turquoise; the other with strings of white shell.
"To the two men," said the vaunting young Navaho, "who will fight their way to the homes of these boasted beauties and bring to me their jewel-plaited scalps, will I give my sisters."
The band started, each man eager and hopeful, and on the fourth night bivouacked in sight of the cliffs under which the hated Áya Kĭnné̆ had their homes. At daybreak on the following morning they made their attack on the pueblo, but the villagers, ever alert and well prepared for an onslaught, offered desperate resistance, every man fighting bravely for his life and his family. All day long the contest raged; arrow, lance, and stone hammer dealing death on every hand. As nightfall shrouded the combatants in darkness, the invaders, depleted in rank, slunk back to their camp on the hill, where they found the two gray-haired brothers, each bearing a jewelled scalp as his trophy.
When the Navaho chief learned that the old men were the victors, he raged with anger, condemning his tribesmen and vowing that his sisters should never become the wives of unknown aliens, and accordingly declared a new contest. The man who would win a beautiful wife must hit the blade of a yucca plant with an arrow at forty paces. The long, narrow blade was hung in the bark of a tree and the contest commenced. The younger men shot first. One by one they twanged their bows, and one by one marched off in sullen humor. At last it came the turn of the aged brothers. The first shot his arrow, and the slender leaf was pierced; the second shot, and again the leaf was pierced; but so soon as the second arrow had hit its mark the Navaho declared a new feat, contending that this had not been sufficient. A long race was then arranged, and once more the brothers came off victorious.
The chief became desperate. Some feat must be devised in which his own men could prove the superior. In the wall of a high cliff not far distant was a small hole, barely larger than a half-closed hand, and just above the reach of the average man. The ones who could run past that hole, jump, and thrust their hands into it as they did so, might claim the sisters. One by one the young Navaho warriors leaped wildly and struck out for the hole in the cliff, but none could thrust his hand into it. Then the elderly brothers ran past, sprang lightly, and darted a hand each into the pocket.
Zahadolzhá - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
These deific characters in Navaho mythology, though beneficent always, have no special functions to perform. The name means "Fringe Mouth" and has no ascertainable significance other than that these spirits, whose abode is in the water, are supposed to have peculiar markings about their mouths. Rescue from drowning invariably redounds to the glory of these gods.
But for the third time the Navaho chief declared the test insufficient. The cliff was high. They who would marry his sisters must shoot an arrow over its rim; so a second contest in archery took place, but only the feathered reeds of the white-haired brothers passed out of sight.
Still the old men were refused the prizes they had fairly won so many times. A dance was called. Finding no way to outdo the two brothers in skill or strength, the young chief left the selection of husbands to his sisters. They should join the men in the dance and go home with whom they chose. The aliens did not join the dancers, preferring instead to remain in their own little brush house half a mile distant, with its single-slant roof, "For it is foolish," said one, "to think that two such handsome young maidens as they are would ever look with favor upon our rags and wrinkles. We would better lie here to-night and rest in sleep after our busy day." Each then brought forth a sacred pipe and tobacco, which they used only on rare occasions. One had a pipe of rich blue turquoise, and the other one of fine, pure white shell. They filled them, smoking in silence. From the distance the songs and laughter of the merry dancers greeted their ears, but not as joyous sounds. Each smoked with apparent resolution, blowing forth cloud after cloud of filmy whiteness, and lo! as they smoked each noticed that the other had grown youthful in appearance! Their tattered garments, too, as insensibly as the creeping shadows, changed their forms, becoming fine shirts, leggings, and moccasins.
At the dance the younger sister asked, "What is it that smells so sweet?"
"I have noticed nothing," the other replied.
"Come over here and face the breeze," said the first; and there, sure enough, came wafts of air sweet and savory. Neither had ever before scented anything so pleasing, and they determined to follow the aroma against the breeze. The moon shed ample light to guide their footsteps, and once locating the true direction whence the wind came, the two had no difficulty in threading their way straight to the home of the brothers who had vanquished so many rivals in so many feats. Knowing nothing of the men, other than that they were strangers from an alien tribe, the girls were somewhat startled at coming so boldly face to face with them; but a moment's hesitation gave them assurance, for surely, they thought, such finely dressed, handsome men could mean no harm.
Said one: "What it was we did not know, so came to determine if we could; but the most delicious odor we ever smelled seemed to fill the air about us at the dance, coming always from this direction, and now we see that it was the smoke of your tobacco. It must be a wonderful land, where you come from, if tobacco like that grows there."
"That you may see for yourselves," answered the elder brother, "for we have come to take you there if you will but consent to go. Our land is rich in jewels and possesses a soil that grows bountiful crops of many kinds, some of which you have never seen. Marry us and you shall live always in abundance."
The girls consented, and at bedtime retired with their husbands for the night, only to waken in the morning, however, to a sense of horror; for whom should they find beside them but the two grim-visaged old men so cordially hated by all their tribe! They dared not to display their fear and horror before the men, who were quite awake, though feigning sleep, but each read the[pg 110] other's feelings at a glance. Where were they? Where had they been? Had they merely dreamed of meeting two handsome, well-clad strangers in the night? Slowly their memories came back—the last shooting contest, the preparation for the dance, the songs and feasting, the enchanting perfumed breezes, and their quest—they remembered now. But how this change in their companions? They were strangers, and unquestionably magicians who could transform themselves or work spells on others! With this thought the desire for vengeance increased with every pulse-beat.
Haschĕbaád - Navaho
From Copyright Photograph 1904 by E.S. Curtis
In Navaho mythology there are numerous references to benevolent female deities, who are personated in medicine rites by men wearing masks, as shown in this plate. Haschĕbaád may be translated "female deity," or "goddess."
The day wore on before the women had a chance to talk together apart from their husbands, when they agreed that they would return to their home and tell their brother of the evil worked upon them by the old men, whom they would then soon see killed; but the Little Whirlwind whispered to them, "Return not to your home; anger fills the hearts of all your people, and it is you who would be killed with clubs and stones." Thwarted in this plan, they determined to leave and search for a distant tribe of which they had once heard, that lived in peace, and had never led the life of marauders. There, surely, they might receive food and shelter and freedom from the sorcery of their husbands. Each would take a separate course upon starting, to meet at a wooded mountain in the east.
All went well throughout the day; the old men rested and made ready for the journey to their home-land, on which they planned to start at daybreak. That night the women did not sleep. When their husbands became wrapt in slumber, they quietly crawled out from their furs, snatched a little food, and glided into the moonlight. They had been gone but a short time when one of the old men arose to stir the fire, and in deep surprise noted the absence of the women. He called his brother, and the two held a hurried consultation. They circled the lodge, but in the dimness of the light could discern no guiding footprint to tell the direction in which their young wives had gone. Returning to the camp, they filled their sacred pipes, and in silence sat and smoked. Soon a thin curl of smoke was seen[pg 111] drifting southward, winding in and out among the piñons; then another on the north side. These they followed, bearing eastward, smoking as they went, and as the sun began to tint the higher hills and mountain crests with yellow, bathing all else in purple shadows, they came upon their wives in a little rocky cañon screened by thickly growing cedar and piñon. The smoke foretold the women of their doom, so they were not taken by surprise.
Seeing no way to escape, the girls resigned themselves to fate, and meekly followed the old men back to camp, whence they journeyed with them to the west.
At their home the brothers had wives and children, so they did not herald their new consorts as such, but wedded them at once to their eldest sons. This prospect pleased the two young women, and they entered into the spirit of the new life with zest. They learned the songs and chants of the rites of the Snake and the Bear people—the clans to which these younger husbands belonged—and taught them to a young brother who came to visit them. When the brother returned to the Navaho people, he told them that his sisters were quite happy, and with the songs he had learned from them he originated the Hozhónĭ Hatál, Happiness Chant.