When we come to review the gods in general, those connected with fire will be pointed out as they appear; for the present, let it suffice to say that many American peoples had such gods, or had ceremonies suggesting their existence and recognition, or lastly, had legends of the origin or procurement of the fire they daily used on the altar or on the hearth. In the Pueblos of New Mexico, and more especially among the Pecos, sacred perpetual fires were kept up by special command of their traditionary god and ruler Montezuma; but these fires were not regarded as fetiches.[III-15] The Mexican fire-god was known by the name of Xiuhtecutli, and by other names appertaining to the different aspects in which he was viewed. While preserving his own well-marked identity, he was evidently closely related also to the sun-god. Many and various, even in domestic life, were the ceremonies by which he was recognized; the most important ritual in connection with his service being, perhaps, the lighting of the new fire, with which, as we shall see, the beginning of every Mexican cycle was solemnized.[III-16]
There are various fables scattered up and down among the various tribes regarding the origin or rather the procuring of fire. We know how the Quichés received it from the stamp of the sandal of Tohil; how, from the home of the cuttle-fish, a deer brought it to the Ahts in a joint of his leg; how from a distant island the great Yehl of the Thlinkeets fetched the brand in his beak that filled the flint and the fire-stick with seeds of eternal fire.
HOW THE CAHROCS OBTAINED FIRE.
The Cahrocs hold that, when in the beginning the creator Chareya made fire, he gave it into the custody of two old hags, lest the Cahrocs should steal it. The Cahrocs, having exhausted every means to procure the treasure, applied for help to their old friend the Coyote; who, having maturely considered how the theft might best be accomplished, set about the thing in this way: From the land of the Cahrocs to the home of the old women he stationed a great company of animals, at convenient distances; the strongest nearest the den of the old beldames, the weakest farthest removed. Last of all he hid a Cahroc in the neighborhood of the hut, and, having left the man precise directions how to act, he trotted up to the door and asked to be let in out of the cold. Suspecting nothing, the crones gave him admittance; so he lay down in front of the fire, and made himself as comfortable as possible, waiting for the further action of his human accomplice without. In good time, the man made a furious attack on the house and the old furies rushed out at once to drive off the invader. This was the Coyote's opportunity. Instantly he seized a half-burnt brand and fled like a comet down the trail; and the two hags, seeing how they had been outwitted, turned after him in immediate and furious chase. It had gone hard then with the hopes of the Cahrocs, if their four-legged Prometheus had trusted to his single speed; but just as he began to feel the pace tell on him, and just as the weird women thought they were about to recover the brand, the Cougar relieved him of it. Great was the satisfaction of our wise Coyote, as he sank down, clearing his sooty eyes and throat, and catching his breath, to see the great lithe cat leap away with the torch, and the hags gnash their choppy gums as they rushed by, hard in pursuit, on the dim trail of sparks. The Cougar passed the brand to the Bear, the Bear to his neighbor, and so on to the end. Down the long line of carriers, the panting crones plied their withered old legs in vain; only two mishaps occurring among all the animals that made up the file. The squirrel, last in the train but one, burned his tail so badly that it curled up over his back, and even scorched the skin above his shoulders. Last of all, the poor Frog, who received the brand when it had burned down to a very little piece, hopped along so heavily that his pursuers gained on him, gained fast and surely. In vain he gathered himself for every spring, in vain he stretched at every leap till the jarred muscles cracked again. He was caught. The smoke-dimmed eyes stood out from his head, his little heart thumped like a club against the lean fingers that closed upon his body—yet that wild croak was not the croak of despair. Once more for the hope of the Cahrocs! one more struggle for the Coyote that trusted him in this great thing! and with a gulp the plucky little martyr swallowed the fire, tore himself from the hands that held him, leaped into a river, and diving deep and long, gained his goal; but gained it a mournful wreck, the handsome tail, which, of all his race, only the tadpole should ever wear again, was utterly gone, left, like that of an O'Shanter's mare, in the witch's grasp; only the ghost of himself was left to spit out on some pieces of wood the precious embers preserved at so great a cost. And it is because the Frog spat out this fire upon these pieces of wood that it can always be extracted again by rubbing them hard together.[III-17]
FIRE, THE LIGHTNING, AND WIND.
The Navajos have a legend as to the procuring of fire, that has many analogies to the foregoing. They tell how, when they first gained the earth, they were without fire, and how the Coyote, the Bat, and the Squirrel agreed to procure it for them. The object of their desire seems to have been in the possession of the animals in general, in some distant locality. The Coyote, having attached pine splinters to his tail, ran quickly through the fire and fled with his lighted prize. Being keenly pursued, however, by the other animals, he soon tired; upon which the Bat relieved him, and dodging and flitting here and there, carried the splinters still farther. Then the Squirrel came to the assistance of the Bat, and succeeding him in his office, contrived to reach the hearths of the Navajos with the coveted embers.[III-18]
The natives of Mendocino county, California, believe that lightning is the origin of fire, that a primeval bolt hurled down by the Man Above fell upon certain wood, from which, consequently fire can always be extracted by rubbing two pieces together.[III-19]
From fire let us turn for a moment to wind, whose phenomena, as might be expected, have not been allowed to pass wholly unnoticed by the mythologies with which we have to deal. When we come to examine ideas connected with death and with the soul of man and its future, we shall find the wind, or the air, often in use as the best name and figure for the expression of primitive conceptions of that mysterious thing, the vital essence or spirit. The wind too is often considered as a god, or at least as the breath of a god, and in many American languages the Great Spirit and the Great Wind are one and the same both in word and signification. The name of the god Hurakan, mentioned in Quiché myths, still signifies the Storm in many a language strange to his worshipers, while in Quiché it may be translated Spirit, or swiftly moving Spirit;[III-20] and the name of the Mexican god Mixcoatl is said to be to this day the correct Mexican term for the whirlwind.[III-21]
An interesting point here arises with regard to the division of the heavens into four quarters and the naming of these after the names of the wind. Dr. Brinton believes this fact to be at the bottom of the sacredness and often occurrence of the number four in so many early legends, and he connects these four winds and their embodiment in many quaternions of deities, with the sacredness of the cross and its use among widely separated nations, to whom its later Christian signification was utterly unknown.[III-22]
If we may suppose that the Great Spirit and the wind are often represented under the form of an enormous bird, we must connect with them, as their most inseparable attributes, the thunder and the lightning; the first, as we have so often seen, is the rustling or stridor of the wings of the bird, the second is the flashing of his eyes. The Raven of the Koniagas is not, however, as among most other tribes of the great Northwest, the author of these things; but their principal deity when he is angry sends down two dwarfs, who thunder and lighten according to his command.[III-23] Of the god Hurakan, whom we have noticed as the etymon of the word hurricane, the Popol Vuh says: "The flash is the first sign of Hurakan; the second is the furrow of the flash; the third is the thunderbolt that strikes;"[III-24] and to the Mexican god, Tlaloc, are also attached the same three attributes.[III-25]