The morning saw the feast concluded in about the usual way. Tobacco was smoked over the seed-corn on the altar, and sacred water was sprinkled from a red orchid over everything on the altar, including the sacred bowl and the flowers on top of it, as well as over the heads of all the people present, to insure health and luck. This is done on behalf of the Morning Star, because he throws blessed water Over the whole earth, and on the corn and the fruit the Coras eat. The flowers are afterward taken home, even by the children, and put in cracks in the house walls, where they remain until removed by the hand of time.
The people of Santa Teresa and San Francisco, at certain rain-making feasts, fashion a large locust (chicharra) out of a paste made of ground corn and beans, and place it on the altar. In the morning, after the dancing of the mitote, it is divided among the participants of the feast, each eating his share. This is considered more efficient even than the dancing itself.
It is evident that the religious customs of the cañon of Jesus Maria are on the wane, mainly because the singing shamans are dying out, though curing shamans will remain for centuries yet. As the Indians now have to perform their dances secretly, the growing generation has less inclination and little opportunity to learn them, and the tribe’s ritual and comprehensive songs will gradually become lost.
My shaman friend in San Francisco complained to me that the other shamans did not know the words of the songs well enough. Tayop (Father Sun) and the other gods do not understand them, he said, and therefore these shamans cannot accomplish anything with “los señores.” It was like sending a badly written letter: “the gentlemen” pass it from one to another, none of them being able to make out its meaning.
In the mean time my efforts to obtain anthropological specimens were more laborious than successful, because it was very difficult to get anyone to show me where they could be found. To make things worse, suddenly another man dreamed that I had enough “heads,” and so I was not permitted to search for them any more. But I did not intend to content myself with the few I had secured. I had made arrangements with a Cora some time before to show me some skulls he knew of, and after much procrastination on his part I at last got him to accompany me.
We rode for fifteen miles in the direction of Santa Teresa. The country was rough and but sparsely inhabited. In fact, I passed three deserted ranches, and near one of them I killed a Gila monster that was just making its burrow. There lay an air of antiquity over the whole landscape. About half a league before reaching the caves we sought, I came upon quite an extensive fortification; I also noticed a number of trincheras in one arroyo; and above it on a mesa, running along the edge, we found a wall built of loose stones. The mesa, 300 by 200 feet in extent, was a natural fortress difficult of access, except at one point where a little cordon, like an isthmus, led to it. Here, however, I found no vestige of ancient inhabitants.
There were two shallow caves close to each other in the remote valley into which the guide had led me. In the larger one, which was eight feet deep and twelve feet broad, nine skulls were found. In the other were only a few bones, and I noticed indications of partitions, in the shape of upright stones, between the skeletons. The bodies must have been partly buried, with the heads protruding, in spaces a foot square.
It was nearing dusk and I had to get back to my camp that evening. On the road my mule gave out, and for the last part of the way I had to walk. I refreshed myself with some zapotes, which were just in season. This native fruit of Mexico has the flavour of the pear and the strawberry, and is delicious when picked fresh from the tree; but as soon as it falls to the ground it is infested with insects.
Contrary to expectation, when I was ready to leave the village, I found it exceedingly difficult to get men. As the Coras here do not understand the mule business, I had to resort to the Mexicans in the valley, who, however, acting under instructions from the padre, would have nothing to do with me. They even shunned those who were seen in my company. One man who used to carry on some trading with the Huichols was more daring than the rest. He declared that he would serve the devil himself if he got paid for it, and tried to make up a party for me, but failed. He was ruining his reputation for my sake, he told me; even his compadre (his child’s godfather), on account of his association with me, ran away when he saw him coming. The situation finally became so exasperating that I was compelled to write to the Bishop in Tepic, and lay the case before him. I stated that the padre, without having seen me, had placed me in a bad light before the people, and had then left the country, making it impossible for me to convince him of his error of judgment; that if it were not for the strong recommendations I had from the Government and the Commanding General of the Territory, it would be impossible for me to stay here, except at great personal risk.
To await an answer, however, would have involved too great a loss of time. Luckily I found three dare-devil fellows, but recently come into the valley for a living, who were willing to go with me. These, together with the man already mentioned and one Cora Indian, enabled me to make a start. Thus I parted from pretty San Francisco, and the nice Indians there, who had believed in me in spite of the wickedness the Mexicans had attributed to me. The Coras are the only primitive race I have met who seem to have acquired the good qualities of the white man and none of his bad ones.