[59.] When he got within sight of his house his people made him stop and told him not to approach nearer until they had summoned a Navajo shaman. When the latter, whose name was Red Queue, came, ceremonies were performed over the returned wanderer, and he was washed from head to foot and dried with corn meal; for thus do the Navajo treat all who return to their homes from captivity with another tribe, in order that all alien substances and influences may be removed from them. When he had been thus purified he entered the house and his people embraced him and wept over him. But to him the odors of the lodge were now intolerable and he soon left the house and sat outside. Seeing this, the shaman gave it as his opinion that the purification already
made was not sufficient, and that it would be well to have a great dance over him. In those days the Navajo had a healing dance in the dark corral; but it was imperfect, with few songs and no kethàwns or sacrificial sticks. It was not until Dsilyi‘ Neyáni recounted his revelations that it became the great dance it now is among the Navajo.
[60.] It was agreed that before the dance began Dsilyi‘ Neyáni should be allowed four days and four nights in which to tell his story and that the medicine man should send out a number of young men to collect the plants that were necessary for the coming ceremony. For four nights and for four days he was busy in relating his adventures and instructing his hearers in all the mysteries he had learned in the homes of the ¢igìni. Then they built the medicine lodge and got all things ready for the new rites and for the purification of the one who had returned. The shaman selected from among the plants brought him by the young men such as he thought would best cleanse his patient of all the strange food he had taken among the alien Indians and in the houses of the supernatural ones whom he had visited. On the first day he gave him pine and spruce; on the second day, big and little willows; on the third day, a plant called litci and the aromatic sumac; on the fourth day, cedar and piñon. Of these the prophet drank cold and hot infusions in the morning by the fire.
[61.] During these four days the ceremonies which Dsilyi‘ Neyáni had introduced were in progress. On the fifth day it was proposed they should send out the akáninili (meal sprinkler) or courier to invite their neighbors to the great dance. There were two couriers to be sent: one was to go to the north, to a place called Çògojilá‘ (Much Grease Wood), to invite some friendly bands of Ute, some distant bands of Navajo, and some Jicarilla who dwelt there; the other was to go to the south, to Tse‘lakàī-silà (Where Two White Rocks Lie), to ask the Southern Apache, the White Mountain Apache, the Cohonino, and a tribe called ¢ildjèhe, to attend. To the camp in the north it was a journey of two days and two nights, and it would take the fleetest runner the same time to return. To the home of their neighbors in the south it was as far. As these long journeys must be made on foot and running, they could not find a single young man in the camp who would volunteer for the task. The men counseled about the difficulty all day and tried much persuasion on the youths, but none were found willing to make either journey.
[62.] As night approached an old woman entered the medicine lodge and said: “I will send my grandson as an akáninili.” This old woman’s lodge was not far from where the medicine lodge was built and all present knew her grandson well. Whenever they visited her lodge he was always lying on the ground asleep; they never saw him go abroad to hunt, and they all supposed him to be lazy and worthless; so when she made her offer they only looked at one another and laughed. She waited awhile, and getting no response she again offered the services of her grandson, only to provoke again laughter and significant looks.
A third and a fourth time she made her proposal, and then she said: “Why do you not at least answer me? I have said that I will let my grandson take your messages to one of these camps and you laugh at me and thank me not. Why is this?” Hearing her words, the chief medicine man, who came from a distant camp and did not know her, asked the men who were present who the woman was and what sort of a young man her grandson was; but again the men laughed and did not answer him either. He turned to the old woman and said: “Bring hither your grandson, that I may see him.” The woman answered: “It is already late; the night is falling and the way is long. It is of no use for you to see him to-night; let us wait until the morning.” “Very well,” said the shaman; “bring him at dawn to-morrow.” She left the lodge promising to do as she was bidden; and the moment she was gone the long suppressed merriment of the men broke forth. They all laughed inordinately, made many jokes about the lazy grandson, and told the medicine man that there was no use in sending such a person with the message when the best runners among them did not dare to undertake the journey. “He is too weak and lazy to hunt,” said they; “he lives on seeds and never tastes flesh.”
[63.] As soon as there was light enough in the morning to discern objects, a man who was looking out of the door of the medicine lodge cried out, “He comes,” and those inside laughed and waited. Presently Tlà¢esçìni (such was the name of the old woman’s grandson) entered and sat down near the fire. All looked at him in astonishment. When last they saw him his hair was short and matted, as if it had not been combed or washed for three years, and his form was lean and bent. Now he appeared with thick glossy locks that fell below his knee; his limbs were large and firm looking; he held his head erect and walked like a youth of courage; and many said to one another, “This cannot be the same man.” In a little while another young man named Indsiskàï (Radiating White Streaks), as fair and robust as the first, entered and sat down by the fire on the side opposite to where Tlà¢esçìni sat. The white earth and the charcoal for painting the akáninili were already prepared; so some of the young men in the lodge, when they beheld this pair of fine couriers, arose without a word of debate and began to paint the latter and to adorn their persons for the journey. When the toilet was done, the medicine man sent the couriers forth with many messages and injunctions and told them to blow on their whistles four times before they got out of hearing of the lodge. Tlà¢esçìni went to the north and Indsiskàï to the south, and they walked so slowly that all the spectators again laughed and made merry, and many said: “They will never reach the camps whither we have sent them.” They passed out of sight just before the sun rose. Those who remained in camp prepared to amuse themselves. They cleared the ground for the game of nánjoj, and brought out their sticks and hoops. Some said: “We will have plenty of time for play before the couriers return.” Others said: “At
yonder tree we saw Tlà¢esçìni last. I suppose if we went there now we would find him asleep under it.”
[64.] About the middle of the afternoon, while they were playing their games, one looked to the north, and, at a distance, he saw one of the messengers approaching them, and he cried out, “Here comes Tlà¢esçìni; he has wakened from his sleep and is coming back for something to eat.” A moment later Indsiskàï was announced as approaching from the south. They both reached the door of the medicine lodge at the same time; but Tlà¢esçìni entered first, handed his bag to the medicine man, and sat down in the same place where he sat when he entered in the morning. Indsiskàï followed and, handing his bag to the shaman, sat down opposite his companion. Now, many who were without thronged into the lodge to enjoy the sport, and they laughed and whispered among themselves; but the couriers were grave and silent, and, while the medicine man opened the bags, they took off their ornaments and washed the paint from their bodies. In the bag of Tlà¢esçìni were found four ears of léjyipĕj (corn baked in the husk underground). They were still hot from the fire, and the shaman broke them into fragments and passed the pieces around. From the bag of Indsiskàï two pieces of noçá‘ (the hard sugar of the maguey), such as the Apache make, were taken. When the young men had finished cleaning themselves, they passed out in silence, without a glance for any one.
[65.] At nightfall they returned to the lodge, and entering, sat down in the west, one on each side of the medicine man, and Tlà¢esçìni addressed him, saying: “When we came to the lodge this afternoon, we did not give you an account of our journeys because the people who are with you are fools, who laughed when we came home from the long journey which they feared to undertake; but now we have come to tell you our adventures. I,” continued Tlà¢esçìni, “went to the north. On my way I met another messenger who was traveling from a distant camp to this one to call you all to a dance in a circle of branches of a different kind from ours. When he learned my errand he tried to prevail on me to return hither and put off our dance till another day, so that we might attend their ceremony and that they in turn might attend ours; but I refused, saying our people were in haste to complete their dance. Then we exchanged bows and quivers as a sign to our people that we had met and that what we would tell on our return was the truth. You observe that the bow and quiver I have now are not those with which I left this morning. We parted, and I kept on my way towards the north. It was yet early in the day when I reached Çògojilá‘, where the Jicarilla and friendly Ute were encamped. There I sprinkled meal on the medicine man and gave him my message. When I arrived they were just opening a pit in which they had roasted corn, and they gave me the ears which I have brought home. They promised to be here in our camp at the end of the third day, which will be the night of our dance.”