The very first thing an Apache does in the morning is to blow a little pinch of hoddentin to the dawn. The Apache worship both dawn and darkness, as well as the sun, moon, and several of the planets.
"When the sun rises we cast a pinch of hoddentin toward him, and we do the same thing to the moon, but not to the stars, saying 'Gun-ju-le, chigo-na-ay, si-chi-zi, gun-ju-le, inzayu, ijanale,' meaning 'Be good, O Sun, be good.' 'Dawn, long time let me live'; or, 'Don't let me die for a long time,' and at night, 'Gun-ju-le, chil-jilt, si-chi-zi, gun-ju-le, inzayu, ijanale,' meaning 'Be good, O Night; Twilight, be good; do not let me die.'" "In going on a hunt an Apache throws hoddentin and says 'Gun-ju-le, chigo-na-ay, cha-ut-si, ping, kladitza,' meaning 'Be good, O Sun, make me succeed deer to kill.'"[254]
The name of the full moon in the Apache language is "klego-na-ay," but the crescent moon is called "tzontzose" and hoddentin is always offered to it.[255]
"Hoddentin is thrown to the sun, moon (at times), the morning star, and occasionally to the wagon."[256] "The Apache offer much hoddentin to 'Na-u-kuzze,' the Great Bear."[257] "Our custom is to throw a very small pinch of hoddentin at dawn to the rising sun."[258] "The women of the Chiricahua throw no hoddentin to the moon, but pray to it, saying: 'Gun-ju-le, klego-na-ay,' (be good, O Moon)."[259]
When the Apache plant corn the medicine-men bury eagle-plume sticks in the fields, scatter hoddentin, and sing. When the corn is partially grown they scatter pinches of hoddentin over it.[260]
The "eagle-plume sticks" mentioned in the preceding paragraph suggests the "ke-thawn" mentioned by Matthews in "The Mountain Chant."[261]
"When a person is very sick the Apache make a great fire, place the patient near it, and dance in a circle around him and the fire, at the same time singing and sprinkling him with hoddentin in the form of a cross on head, breast, arms, and legs."[262]
In November, 1885, while at the San Carlos agency, I had an interview with Nantadotash, an old blind medicine-man of the Akañe or Willow gens, who had with him a very valuable medicine-hat which he refused to sell, and only with great reluctance permitted me to touch. Taking advantage of his infirmity, I soon had a picture drawn in my notebook, and the text added giving the symbolism of all the ornamentation attached. Upon discovering this, the old man became much excited, and insisted upon putting a pinch of hoddentin upon the drawing, and then recited a prayer, which I afterwards succeeded in getting verbatim. After the prayer was finished, the old man arose and marked with hoddentin the breast of his wife, of Moses, of Antonio, of other Apache present, and then of myself, putting a large pinch over my heart and upon each shoulder, and then placed the rest upon his own tongue. He explained that I had taken the "life" out of his medicine hat, and, notwithstanding the powers of his medicine, returned in less than a month with a demand for $30 as damages. His hat never was the same after I drew it. My suggestion that the application of a little soap might wash away the clots of grease, soot, and earth adhering to the hat, and restore its pristine efficacy were received with the scorn due to the sneers of the scoffer.
"In time of much lightning, the Apache throw hoddentin and say: 'Gun-ju-le, ittindi,' be good, Lightning."[263]