While still several miles away, his party discovered the village, the houses extending along the bank of the river, with several flags attached to long poles fluttering in the wind. The trail from the mountains was winding and difficult, but at last—
We reached the plain and were met by a procession, headed by Smohalla in person, all attired in gorgeous array and mounted on their best chargers. We wended our way through sagebrush and sand dunes to the village street, not a soul being visible, but from the mat-roofed salmon houses there came forth the most indescribable chorus of bell ringing, drum beating, and screeching. I noticed that the street was neatly swept and well sprinkled—an unusual thing in any Indian village. This, Smohalla said, was in my honor and to show that his people had cleanly tastes. Our procession passed on beyond the village to a new canvas tent, which had a brush shade to keep off the sun and was lined and carpeted with new and very pretty matting. Smohalla said this had been prepared especially for me, and was to be my house as long as I should stay with him. To cap the climax, he had constructed a bench for me, having sent more than 90 miles for the nails. Fresh salmon, caught in a peculiar trap among the rocks and broiled on a plank, were regularly furnished my party, and with hard tack and coffee of our own supplying we got enough to eat and drink. Our own blankets furnished sleeping conveniences. The river was within two yards of our tent door and was an ample lavatory.
When I awoke the next morning, the sound of drums was again heard, and for days it continued. I do not remember that there was any intermission except for a few minutes at a time. Seven bass drums were used for the purpose. I was invited to be present, and took great interest in the ceremonies, which I shall endeavor to describe.
There was a small open space to the north of the larger house, which was Smohalla’s residence and the village assembly room as well. This space was inclosed by a whitewashed fence made of boards which had drifted down the river. In the middle was a flagstaff with a rectangular flag, suggesting a target. In the center of the flag was a round red patch. The field was yellow, representing grass, which is there of a yellow hue in summer. A green border indicated the boundary of the world, the hills being moist and green near their tops. At the top of the flag was a small extension of blue color, with a white star in the center. Smohalla explained: “This is my flag, and it represents the world. God told me to look after my people—all are my people. There are four ways in the world—north and south and east and west. I have been all those ways. This is the center. I live here. The red spot is my heart—everybody can see it. The yellow grass grows everywhere around this place. The green mountains are far away all around the world. There is only water beyond, salt water. The blue [referring to the blue cloth strip] is the sky, and the star is the north star. That star never changes; it is always in the same place. I keep my heart on that star. I never change.”
There are frequent services, a sort of processional around the outside of the fence, the prophet and a small boy with a bell entering the inclosure, where, after hoisting the flag, he delivers a sort of sermon. Captains or class leaders give instructions to the people, who are arranged according to stature, the men and women in different classes marching in single file to the sound of drums. There seems to be a regular system of signals, at command of the prophet, by the boy with the bell, upon which the people chant loud or low, quick or slow, or remain silent. These outdoor services occurred several times each day.
Fig. 64—Smohalla’s flag (heraldic).
Smohalla invited me to participate in what he considered a grand ceremonial service within the larger house. This house was built with a framework of stout logs placed upright in the ground and roofed over with brush, or with canvas in rainy weather. The sides consisted of bark and rush matting. It was about 75 feet long by 25 feet wide. Singing and drumming had been going on for some time when I arrived. The air resounded with the voices of hundreds of Indians, male and female, and the banging of drums. Within, the room was dimly lighted. Smoke curled from a fire on the floor at the farther end and pervaded the atmosphere. The ceiling was hung with hundreds of salmon, split and drying in the smoke.
The scene was a strange one. On either side of the room was a row of twelve women standing erect with arms crossed and hands extended, with finger tips at the shoulders. They kept time to the drums and their voices by balancing on the balls of their feet and tapping with their heels on the floor, while they chanted with varying pitch and time. The excitement and persistent repetition wore them out, and I heard that others than Smohalla had seen visions in their trances, but I saw none who would admit it or explain anything of it. I fancied they feared their own action, and that real death might come to them in this simulated death.
Those on the right hand were dressed in garments of a red color with an attempt at uniformity. Those on the left wore costumes of white buckskin, said to be very ancient ceremonial costumes, with red and blue trimmings. All wore large round silver plates or such other glittering ornaments as they possessed. A canvas covered the floor and on it knelt the men and boys in lines of seven. Each seven, as a rule, had shirts of the same color. The tallest were in front, the size diminishing regularly to the rear. Children and ancient hags filled in any spare space. In front on a mattress knelt Smohalla, his left hand covering his heart. On his right was the boy bell ringer in similar posture. Smohalla wore a white garment which he was pleased to call a priest’s gown, but it was simply a white cloth shirt with a colored stripe down the back.
PL. XCI
INTERIOR OF SMOHALLA CHURCH
I and my two assistants were seated on a mattress about 10 feet in front of the prophet, which fortunately placed us near the door and incidentally near fresh air. There were two other witnesses, Indians from distant villages, who sat at one side with Smohalla’s son looking on.
Smohalla’s son was said to be in training as his successor. He was a young man, apparently about 23 years old, tall, slender, and active in movement, and commonly kept himself apart from the body of the people. He was much darker than his father. His dress was brilliant in style and color. He ordinarily wore a short gown or surplice, sometimes yellow and at other times sky blue, with ornate decorations of stars or moons appliqué, cut from bright-colored cloths. The sleeves were extravagantly trimmed with beads and silver ornaments. He knelt at the right of the group as the place of honor. On his left was Coteeakun, the head man of the Indian village at Union gap, on the Yakima reservation. The third man was Coteeakun’s brother, a most intelligent and progressive Indian. ([MacMurray] MS.)
From Charles Ike, an intelligent half-blood interpreter on Yakima reservation, who is also the regular interpreter of the Smohalla ritual services at the Yakima village of Paʾkiut, we obtain additional interesting details concerning the ceremony as there performed, with the underlying religious teachings.