[132.] The plumed arrow is frequently referred to in the songs of this rite. It seems to be the most revered implement and the act in which it appears the most revered alili of the night. All the other shows may be omitted at will, but the dance of the kátso-yisçàn, it is said, must never be neglected. I have witnessed other performances where the arrow swallowers reappeared with their numbers increased to six or eight. The additional dancers all pretended to swallow arrows, but they did not apply them to the patient. The origin of this alili is well accounted for in the myth (paragraphs [47], [55], and [69]), and the peculiar significance of the injunction not to break the arrow is easily understood when we know how the arrow is made.

[133.] [Third dance.] At 10 o’clock the sound of the whistle again called the spectators to attention and a line of twenty-three dancers came in sight. The one who led the procession bore in his hand a whizzer ([Fig. 56]) such as schoolboys use, a stick tied to the end of a string; this he constantly whirled, producing a sound like that of a rain storm. After him came one who represented a character, the Yébaka (anglicized, Yaybaka), from the great nine days’ ceremony of the klédji-qaçàl, or night chant, and lie wore a blue buckskin mask that belongs to the character referred to. From time to time he gave the peculiar hoot or call of the Yàybichy, “hu‘hu‘hu‘hu” (paragraph [32]). After him followed eight wand bearers. They were dressed like the bearers of the great plumed arrows; but instead of an arrow each bore a wand made of grass, cactus, and eagle plumes. The rest of the band were choristers in ordinary dress. As they were all proceeding round the fire for the fourth time they halted in the west, the choristers safe and the standing wand bearers formed a double row of four. Then the Yaybaka began to hoot, the orchestra to play, the choristers to sing, the whizzer to make his mimic storm, and the wand bearers to dance. The latter, keeping perfect time with the orchestra, went through a series of figures not unlike those of a modern quadrille. In our terpsichorean nomenclature the “calls” might have thus been given: “Forward and back. Chassez twice. Face partners. Forward and back. Forward and bow. Forward and embrace. Forward and wave wands at partners,”

&c. When several of these evolutions had been performed in a graceful and orderly manner, the choristers rose, and all went singing out at the east.

[134.] Three times more the same band returned. In the third and fourth acts the wands were exchanged for great piñon poles (eight to ten feet long), portions of which they pretended to swallow, as their predecessors had done with the arrows. (Paragraph [48].) That the simple and devoted Pueblo Indian does actually, in dances of this character, thrust a stick far down his gullet, to the great danger of health and even of life, there is little reason to doubt; but the wily Navajo attempts no such prodigies of deglutition. A careful observation of their movements on the first occasion convinced me that the stick never passed below the fauces, and subsequent experience in the medicine lodge only strengthened the conviction (paragraph [121]).

Section.
Fig. 56. The
whizzer.

[135.] The instrument designated above as the whizzer is a thin, flat, pointed piece of wood, painted black and sparkling with the specular iron ore which is sprinkled on the surface; three small pieces of turquoise are inlaid in the wood to represent eyes and mouth. One whizzer which I examined was nine inches long, one and three-fourths inches broad, and about a quarter of an inch thick in the thickest part. ([Fig. 56].) To it was attached a string about two feet long, by means of which the centrifugal motion was imparted to it. It is called by the Navajo tsín-¢e‘ní‘, or groaning stick. It is used among many tribes of the southwest in their ceremonies. The Navajo chanters say that the sacred groaning stick may only be made of the wood of a pine tree which has been struck by lightning.

[136.] In the [Fourth dance] there were about thirty choristers, in ordinary dress, bearing piñon wands; there was a man who shook a rattle, another who whirled the groaning stick, and there were three principal dancers, wearing fancy masks and representing characters from the rites of the klèdji qaçàl or dance of the “Yàybichy.” These three danced a lively and graceful jig, in perfect time to the music, with many bows, waving of wands, simultaneous evolutions, and other pretty motions which might have graced the spectacular drama of a metropolitan theater. Three times they left the corral for a moment, and returning varied the dance, and always varied to improve. The wands they bore were large light frames of reeds adorned with large eagle plumes.

[137.] After this there was an interval of nearly an hour, which passed slowly with those in the corral. Some smoked and gossiped; some listened to the never ceasing din of the orchestra or

joined in the chant; some brought in wood and replenished the waning fires; some, wrapped in their serapea, stretched themselves on the ground to catch short naps.

[138.] [Fifth dance.] It was after midnight when the blowing of a hoarse buffalo horn announced the approach of those who were to perform the fifth dance, the tcòhanoai alili or sun show. There were twenty-four choristers and a rattler. There were two character dancers, who were arrayed, like so many others, in little clothing and much paint. Their heads and arms were adorned with plumes of the war eagle, their necks with rich necklaces of genuine coral, their waists with valuable silver studded belts, and their loins with bright sashes of crimson silk. One bore on his back a round disk, nine inches in diameter, decorated with radiating eagle plumes to represent the sun. The other carried a disk, six and a half inches in diameter, similarly ornamented, to symbolize the moon. Each bore a skeleton wand of reeds that reminded one of the frame of a great kite; it was ornamented with pendant eagle plumes that swayed with every motion of the dancer. While the whole party was passing round the fire in the usual manner wands were waved and heads bowed towards the flames. When it stopped in the west the choristers sat and sang and the rattler stood and rattled, while the bearers of the sun and the moon danced at a lively rate for just three minutes. Then the choristers rose and all sang and danced themselves out of sight. A second performance of this dance came between the first and second repetitions of the next show.