NOTES.
126. In preparing the notes the author has usually limited himself to such matters as he believes he only can explain, or such as, at least, he can explain better than any one else. In a few cases he has given information on subjects not generally known and not easily to be investigated. The temptation to wander into the seductive paths of comparative mythology, and to speculate on the more recondite significance of the myths, had to be resisted if the work were to be kept within the limits of one volume. Resemblances between the tales of the Navahoes and those of other peoples, civilized and savage, ancient and modern, are numerous and marked; but space devoted to them would be lost to more important subjects. Again, many of the readers of this book may be prepared, better than the author, to note these resemblances.
SHAMANS.[16]
127. So much has been said against the medicine-men of the Indians by various writers, who accuse them of being reactionaries, mischief-makers, and arrant deceivers, that the writer feels constrained to give some testimony in their favor,—in favor, at least, of those he has met among the Navahoes; he will not speak now for other tribes.
128. There are, among the Navahoes, charlatans and cheats who treat disease; men who pretend to suck disease out of the patient and then draw from their own mouths pebbles, pieces of charcoal, or bodies of insects, claiming that these are the disease which they have extracted. But the priests of the great rites are not to be classed with such. All of these with whom the writer is acquainted are above such trickery. They perform their ceremonies in the firm conviction that they are invoking divine aid, and their calling lends dignity to their character. They interfere little with the political affairs of the tribe.
Fig. 31. Hatáli Natlói.
129. Smiling Chanter.—It is a source of great regret that a better likeness cannot be presented of Hatáli Natlói than that shown in [fig. 31]. It is reproduced from a painting which was copied from a dim kodak photograph. His name may be translated Smiling Chanter, or Smiling Doctor; an angry or unpleasant expression is never seen on his face. He is also called Hatáli Pahozóni, which may be translated Happy or Good-natured Chanter. He is a priest of the klédzi hatál, or night chant. He would be considered a man of high character in any community. He is dignified, courteous, kind, honest, truthful, and self-respecting. But his dignity is not of the pompous kind. He has a keen sense of humor, makes an excellent joke, and is a good mimic; but, for all his fun, he is neither vulgar nor unkind. He never begged from the author, and never made a bargain with him in advance for his services, or named a price for them when he was done. He always took the greatest pains to explain everything, and, after the writer had been duly initiated into the mysteries of his order, he withheld nothing. To him we are indebted for the story of Natĭ′nĕsthani.
130. Tall Chanter.—[Figure 32] represents an aged priest named Hatáli Nĕz, or Tall Chanter. He was the first who could be persuaded to explain to the author the ceremonies or relate the rite-myths; but when he set the example, others were found to follow. He also is a priest of the night chant. Of late years he has become unpopular as a shaman, owing to an increasing irritability of temper; but he exhibits no envy of his more popular rivals. He perhaps has a better knowledge of the legends than any other man in the tribe. Before he would confide any of his secrets to the author he said: “The chanters among the Navahoes are all brothers. If you would learn our secrets you must be one of us. You must forever be a brother to me. Do you promise this?” He has ever since addressed the author as Sitsĭ′li, “My younger brother,” and has in turn been called Sinái, “My elder brother.”
131. Ethics.—Among themselves, these men have a code of ethics which is, in general, more honestly upheld than the code of our own medical profession. They exhibit no jealousy of one another. They boast not of the excellence of the particular rite they practise. They assist and counsel one another. If a medicine-man, in performing a rite, finds that his supply of some sacred article is exhausted, he sends to the nearest medicine-man for it. If the latter has it, he is obliged to give, and is not allowed to receive payment in return.
132. Torlino.—They are as willing as any other Indians to learn the white man’s philosophy. Old Torlino, a priest of hozóni hatál, sent a son to school at Carlisle, and when the young man returned he no doubt imparted to his father much that he had learned there. The writer sent for the old man to get from him the myth of hozóni hatál. Torlino began: “I know the white men say the world is round, and that it floats in the air. My tale says the world is flat, and that there are five worlds, one above another. You will not believe my tale, then, and perhaps you do not want to hear it.” Being assured that the tale was earnestly desired, despite of all white men’s theories, he proceeded. “I shall tell you the truth, then. I shall tell you all that I heard from the old men who taught me, as well as I can now remember. Why should I lie to you?” And then he made the interesting asseveration which is here literally translated: “I am ashamed before the earth; I am ashamed before the heavens; I am ashamed before the dawn; I am ashamed before the evening twilight; I am ashamed before the blue sky; I am ashamed before the darkness; I am ashamed before the sun; I am ashamed before that standing within me which speaks with me (my conscience!).[274] Some of these things are always looking at me. I am never out of sight. Therefore I must tell the truth. That is why I always tell the truth. I hold my word tight to my breast.”
133. Medical Practice.—Often have the shamans come to the author for treatment for themselves and their friends, and they never made any secret of this, but asked for medicine in the presence of the laity of their own tribe. They do not pretend to deal in panaceas. On the other hand, in cases where the author has failed to give prompt relief to a sick Indian, they have come in all sincerity and politeness and said, “I know a remedy for that difficulty. Will you let me try it?” They do not confine themselves to the practice of their shamanistic rites. They use various plants in the treatment of disease, and these, in simple, acute cases, they administer without prayer, sacrifice, or incantation.
Fig. 32. The Shaman Hatáli Nĕz (Tall Chanter).