XXV. The Snake Dance.
In northeastern Arizona, in a region of unusual wildness, even for the Southwest, lies the Moki Reservation. There are seven Moki pueblos [pg 169] built on the crests of the mesas. All are built of stone. The two largest are Walpi and Oraibe. Six of these towns speak a language related to that of the Shoshones; the seventh, Hano, is a settlement of strangers from the east, who speak the language of Taos on the Rio Grande. The Moki pueblos are, in some ways, particularly old-fashioned. Here the women do their hair up curiously: it is parted in the middle, and neatly smoothed out at the sides; behind it is done up in two queer, rounded masses, like horns. Formerly, perhaps, the women at some other pueblos wore their hair in this same way. In these Moki towns they weave the dark blue or black woolen mantas, or dresses, which are worn by women in all the other pueblos.
In most respects the life of the Moki is like that of other Pueblo Indians. There is, however, among them a great religious ceremony, which is famous, and is perhaps the wildest and weirdest of all Indian rituals. This is the Snake Dance. It is held at any one town only once in two years, but it occurs at some town or other every year. Thus it is held at Walpi in the odd years—1899, 1901; it is held at Oraibe, the even years—1900, 1902, etc. It is celebrated about the middle of August, and always attracts a crowd of Indian and white visitors.
The whole ceremony, of which the snake dance is a part, requires nine days or more, for its celebration. Most of the things are done in [pg 170] the kiva, or estufa, secretly. Dr. Fewkes has given a full account of these, some of which are very curious. During the earlier days runners are sent out to place prayer sticks at the springs and sacred places. The first days they are sent out the messengers go to the more distant shrines, but each day take in places nearer and nearer home. During the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth days snake hunts take place; the hunter priests go out to capture living snakes. The first day they go to the north, the second to the west, the third to the south, the fourth to the east. All kinds of snakes are taken, though perhaps the rattlesnakes are most prized. Few white men have ever seen the snake hunt. One who has seen it writes:
“In a short time a low call came from a man who was thrusting his stick into a dense clump of greasewood, and as the hunters gathered, there was found to be a large rattlesnake, lying in the heart of the thicket. Without hesitation they at once proceeded to cut away the bushes with their hoes, and strangely enough, although the snake lay in coil and watching them, it made no rattling or other display of anger. One of the twigs fell upon it, and the man nearest stooped down and deliberately lifted the branch away. Each one then sprinkled a pinch of meal upon the snake, and the man who had found it bent over and tapped it lightly with the feathers of his snake whip, and then it straightened out to make off, [pg 171] but just as it relaxed from coil, the hunter, using his right hand, in which he held his snake whip, instantly seized it a few inches back of the head. Holding it out, he gave it a quick shake, and then proceeded to fold it up and put it in one of the small bags carried for this purpose, showing no more concern in its handling than if it had been a ribbon.” All these snakes are cared for, being put into jars or vessels in the kiva.
We can speak of few things in the kiva. The altars of colored sands, the dances, the songs, the sacred vessels, and other objects used, the dramatic representation of passages from their legends, are all curious. We have not time to speak of them. On the eighth day, the priests of the antelope society dance, sing the sixteen songs, and perform a drama, all in the kiva. At last the ninth day arrives.
The plaza, or square, in the middle of the town has been prepared. In it is the kisi, built of green boughs, intended as a shelter for the snakes. In front of it is a board in which is a hole, called the sipapu. This hole is supposed to lead down into the lower world, where people used to live. Early in the morning there was a race between boys and girls. They went first to the fields, and then raced in, each bringing a load of melon vines, corn plants, or other vegetable life. These they placed in the plaza.
At noon the snakes are washed in the kiva. A great bowl is brought in and carefully set down. [pg 172] Into it liquid is poured from the north, west, south, and east. The snakes, which have been kept in jars at the corners of the room, are taken and handed to certain priests near the washbowl. All those in the kiva begin to shake their rattles and to sing in a low, humming voice. The priests holding the snakes begin to beat time with them up and down above the liquid. The song increases, becoming “louder and wilder, until it bursts forth into a fierce, blood-curdling yell, or war-cry. At this moment the heads of the snakes were thrust several times into the liquid, so that even parts of their bodies were submerged, and were then drawn out, not having left the hands of the priests, and forcibly thrown across the room upon the sand mosaic.... As they fell on the sand picture, three snake priests stood in readiness, and while the reptiles squirmed about, or coiled for defense, these men, with their snake whips, brushed them back and forth in the sand of the altar.... The low, weird song continued while other rattlesnakes were taken in the hands of the priests, and as the song rose again to the wild war-cry, these snakes were also plunged into the liquid and thrown upon the writhing mass, which now occupied the place of the altar.... Every snake in the collection was thus washed.”
Late in the afternoon, near sunset, the antelope priests in all their finery and paint appear in a procession and circle four times around the plaza, dancing as they go and thumping heavily [pg 173] upon the board in front of the kisi as they pass over it. Then they draw up in line before the kisi. Then the snake priests come out of their kiva, with bodies painted red and their chins black, with white lines. They wear dark red kilts and moccasins. They dance four times around the plaza, but with more energy and wildness than the antelope priests had done. They then draw up in a line opposite the antelope priests and go through with strange singing and movements.
Suddenly the party of snake priests divides into bands of three persons. These little bands approach the kisi, where the snakes have been placed. One of the men kneels, and when he rises holds a snake in his hand. This he places squirming in his mouth, holding it at about the middle of its body. One of his companions throws an arm about the neck of the snake carrier; in his other hand he holds a feather wand or brush, with which he brushes at the snake as if to attract his attention. The third man of the band follows the other two. In this way they go with the wriggling snake. Four times these bands of three go around the plaza, when the snakes are dropped. The followers catch them up at once. When all the snakes have been danced with and are gathered into the arms of the followers, an old priest advances into the center of the plaza and makes a ring of sacred meal. Those holding the snakes run up and throw them into one squirming, writhing mass [pg 175] within this ring. All the priests then rush in, seize what snakes they can, and dart with them, down the trail, out into the open country, where they release the snakes to go where they please. Meantime, the antelope priests close the public ceremony by marching gravely four times round the plaza.
This ceremony is a prayer for rain. It also celebrates in a dramatic form the story of how the great snake and antelope societies began. The snakes gathered in the fields hear the prayers of the people, and when they are loosed carry them to the gods.
Jesse Walter Fewkes.—Naturalist, ethnologist. Now with the Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, D.C. Has written a number of papers about the snake dance.
John G. Bourke.—Soldier, ethnologist. Was the first American ethnologist to describe the Snake Dance of the Moki.
XXVI. Cliff Dwellings And Ruins Of The Southwest.
Through a large area in Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah, also in parts of northern Mexico, there are found several kinds of ancient ruins. At some places they are pretty well preserved, and walls still stand to a considerable height. At others they are mere heaps of stone blocks or crumbling adobe bricks. The three best defined [pg 176] types of buildings found in these ruins are old pueblos, cliff ruins, and cave houses.
Zuñi is the largest inhabited pueblo. Not far from it lies Old Zuñi; and under the ruins of Old Zuñi lie the ruins of a yet older pueblo. Such ruins of old pueblos number hundreds in the Southwest. Sometimes the old walls were built of stone, carefully laid, and with the cracks neatly chinked with splinters of stone; sometimes the stones of the walls were laid in adobe cement; sometimes the walls were constructed of great adobe bricks. These old pueblos were in style and character like those now inhabited. They were often three or four stories high and terraced from in front back. Sometimes they were elliptical or rounded in general form, but more commonly they were built around the three sides of a central court, upon which the buildings faced. Some of these old pueblos were larger than any now occupied, and many of them were better built.
The cliff dwellings were built on ledges of rock along the sides of cliffs. Many of the streams of the Southwest flow through deep and narrow gorges cut in the solid rock. Such gorges are there called cañons. Among the famous cliff-dwellings are those in the cañon of the Chelley River, and those in Mancos Cañon. Here are houses perched up on ledges or stowed away in natural caverns. Some of them are hundreds of feet above the stream, and have a perpendicular rock wall for one hundred feet below them. These [pg 177] houses are carefully built with stone laid in cement. Besides houses of many rooms, and of two or more stories, there are circular towers. Plainly, the people who built these houses did it to secure themselves from attack. Their gardens and fields must have been far below in the valley.
The cave houses were usually dug out in the rocks by human beings. They were cut in the soft rock with picks or axes of stone. Some of these dwellings were cut out as simple open caves. In such, there were walls erected at the front. The cave might be so cut that the rock face remained for the front wall of the house; a hole was first cut for a doorway, and then the room or rooms would be dug out from it behind the cliff wall.
Some persons believe these three kinds of [pg 178] houses were built by three distinct peoples or tribes. This is not likely, for sometimes two or all three kinds are found together, so related as to show that all were occupied at one time by the people of one village.
About twenty or twenty-five miles up the Rio Grande from the pueblo of Cochiti, New Mexico, is a brook called El Rito de los Frijoles, which means “the brook of the beans.” It runs in a fine gorge with rock banks; large pine trees grow in the valley and cap the summits of the chasm. In one of the side cliffs are hundreds of holes, the remains of old dug cave rooms and houses. In most of them the rock cliff face itself forms the front wall of the house. We entered one single-roomed house that looked almost as if it had been used yesterday.
We crept in through a little doorway about a dozen feet up in the cliff and found ourselves in a small room about fifteen feet square. We could see the marks on the roof and the upper part of the walls, where stone picks had been used in cutting out the house. The floor was neatly smoothed, and covered with hard clay. The lower part of the wall was finished smooth with clay, washed over with a thin coat of fine cream-colored clay. The roof was black with the smoke of ancient fires; a little smoke-hole pierced the forward wall, near and above, but at one side of, the door. There were niches cut out in the wall, where little treasures used to [pg 179] be kept. Ends of poles set in the rock seemed to be pegs upon which objects were hung; their unevenly cut ends showed the marks of stone axes. In the floor we found a line of loops to which the bottom pole of the old blanket-weaving loom must have been fastened.
But these cave houses are not the only ruins at El Rito. Along certain parts of the cliff are remains of ancient buildings of the true pueblo type, which had been built against the base of the cliff. They are often placed in such a way with reference to cave rooms in the cliff as to show that both were parts of one great building. Thus, on the ground floor there might be two pueblo rooms in front of a cave room, on the second floor there might be one pueblo room in front of one cave room, and on the third floor there might be only cave rooms. Following up the cañon a little way from this mass of ruins, passing other cave houses, and heaped-up rubbish of old pueblo walls, on the way, we see, perhaps a hundred feet up the cliff, a great natural cavern. Climbing to it, we find as genuine cliff houses constructed therein as those of Mancos Cañon itself. It is certain that at El Rito the people built at one time the three kinds of houses,—the pueblo, the cliff house, the cave house.
At El Rito we find what is common near these ruins in many places,—great numbers of pictures cut in the rock wall. These pictures are sometimes painted as well as cut in, and often represent [pg 180] sent the sun, the moon, human beings, and animals.
Many relics are found at these ruins. The old metatés and rubbing stones for grinding meal are common. Axes, adzes, and picks of stone are not rare, and once in a while a specimen is found with the old handle still attached. These stone tools have a groove around the blade. A flexible branch was bent around this and tied, thus forming the handle. Many round pebbles are found which are much battered; these were hammers. Pieces of sandstone are found with straight grooves worn across them; they were used to straighten and smooth arrows on. Arrow heads and spear heads made of chert, jasper, chalcedony, and obsidian, are common. Sometimes yarns of different colors, bits of cloth, and objects made of hair are found. Sandals neatly woven of yucca fiber are common.
In many of these old caves dried bodies have been found. They are usually called “mummies,” but wrongly so. Sometimes sandals are found still upon their feet, and not rarely the blankets made of feather cloth, in which they were wrapped, are preserved. This was made by fastening feathers into a rather open-work cloth of cords.
The art of all arts, however, among the people who built these ancient houses is the one in which modern Pueblos excel,—pottery. Thousands of whole vessels have been taken from [pg 181] these ruins. There are many forms,—great water-jars, flasks, cups, bowls, ladles,—and, in ware and decoration, they are much better than those made by modern Pueblos. The ware is generally thinner, better baked, firmer, and gives a better ring when struck. The decorations are usually good geometrical designs.
The ancient builders were, in culture, mode of life, and architecture, much like the modern Pueblos. It is probable that some of them were the ancestors of the Pueblo Indians. The Mokis claim that some of the ruins of the McElmo Cañon were the old homes of their people; and the inhabitants of Cochiti assert that it was their forefathers who lived at El Rito de los Frijoles. We cannot say of every ruined building who built it, but certainly the builders were Indians very like the Pueblos.
XXVII. Tribes Of The Northwest Coast.
A long and narrow strip of land stretches from Vancouver Island northward to Alaska. It is bounded on the east by the great mountains, on the west by the Pacific Ocean. Its coast [pg 182] line is irregular; narrow fiords run far into the land. The climate is generally temperate, but there is much rain. Dense forests of pine, cedar, hemlock, and maple cover the mountain slopes. Many kinds of berries grow there abundantly, supplying food for man. In the mountain forests are deer, elk, caribou; both black and grizzly bears are found; wolves are not uncommon. In the remoter mountains are mountain sheep and mountain goats. Beaver and otter swim in the fresh waters, while the seal, fur seal, sea-lion, and whale are found in the sea. In the waters are also many fish, such as halibut, cod, salmon, herring, and oolachen; shell-fish are abundant.
In this interesting land are many different tribes of Indians, speaking languages which in some cases are very unlike. Among the more important tribes or group of tribes, are the Tlingit, Haida, Tshimpshian, and Kwakiutl. While all these tribes are plainly Indians, there are many persons among them who are light-skinned and brown-haired. The hair is also at times quite wavy. The forms are good and the faces pleasing.
But these Indians are not always satisfied with the forms and faces nature gives them. They have various fashions which change their appearance. Among these is changing the shape of the head. Formerly the Chinooks, living near the Columbia River, changed the shape of all the baby boys' heads. The bones of the head in a little baby are soft and can be pressed out of [pg 183] shape. As the child grows older, the bones become harder and cannot be easily altered. The Chinooks made the little head wedge-shaped in a side view. This was done by a board, which was hinged to the cradle-board, and brought down upon the little boy's forehead. It forced the head to broaden in front and the forehead to slant sharply. After the pressure had been kept on for some months, the shape of the head was fixed for life. From the strange shape of their heads thus produced, the Chinooks were often called “Flat-heads.” On Vancouver Island the head of the Koskimo baby girl was forced by circular bandages wrapped around it to grow long and cylindrical.
Another fashion among the women of some tribes was the piercing of the lower lip for the wearing of a plug as an ornament. Thus, when a little girl among the Haida was twelve or thirteen years old, her aunt or grandmother took her to some quiet place along the seashore; there she pierced a little hole in the lower lip of the [pg 184] child, using a bit of sharp shell or stone. To keep the hole from closing when it healed, a bit of grass stalk was put into it. For a few days the place was sore, but it soon got well. The bit of stalk was then removed, and a little peg of wood put in. Later a larger peg or plug was inserted. When the girl had grown to be an old woman, she wore a large plug in her lower lip, which would hold it out flat almost like a shelf.
Many of the Northwest Coast tribes tattooed; generally the men were more marked with this than women. The patterns were usually animal figures, showing the man's family. The Haida were fond of having these queer pictures pricked into them. Upon their breasts they had the totem animal; on their arms other suitable patterns.
The villages of these tribes are almost always on the seashore. The houses were generally in one long line, and all faced the sea. The houses of the different tribes differed somewhat. The house of the Haida was almost square, measuring perhaps forty or fifty feet on a side. In olden times they were sunk several feet into the [pg 185] ground. On entering the house the visitor found himself upon a platform several feet wide running around the four sides; from it he stepped down upon a second platform, and from it upon a central square of dirt which contained the fireplace. The eating place was around this hearth; the place for lounging, visiting, and sleeping was on the upper platform. There each person of the household had his or her own place. At its rear edge, near the wall, were boxes containing the person's treasures and the household's food. There was but one doorway and no windows in a Haida house. Outside the house, at the middle of the front, stood a curious, great, carved post of wood. These were covered with queer animal and bird [pg 186] patterns, each with some meaning (see XXIX.). In Haida houses the doorway was cut in the lower part of this great post or pole.
The beach in front of the village used to be covered with canoes dragged up on the sand. These canoes were “dugouts” of single tree trunks. The logs were cut in summer time, the best wood being yellow cedar. The chief tool used was the adze, made of stone or shell. Fire was used to char the wood to be cut away. After it had been partly cut out inside it was stretched or shaped by steaming with water and hot stones, and then putting in stretchers. Sometimes single-log canoes were large enough to carry from thirty to sixty people. They were often carved and painted at the ends. The paddles used in driving these canoes were rather slender and long-bladed, often painted with designs.
The present dress of these Indians is largely the same as our own. In the days of the first voyagers, they wore beautiful garments of native manufacture. They had quantities of fine furs of seals and sea-otters. These were worn as blankets; when not in use they were carefully folded and laid away in boxes. They wore close and fine blankets of the wool of the mountain sheep and the hair of the mountain goat. These were closely woven and had a fine long fringe along the lower border. They were covered with patterns representing the totem animals. The blanket itself was a dirty white in color, but [pg 187] the designs were worked in black, yellow, or brown. Further south, among the Tshimpshian Indians of British Columbia, fine blankets were woven of the soft and flexible inner bark of the cedar; these were bordered with strips of fur.
These Indians still wear the ancient hat. Among the southern tribes it is made of cedar bark, and is soft and flimsy. In the north it is made of spruce or other roots, and is firm and unyielding. The shape of the lower part of the hat is a truncated cone. Among the Tlingit and Haida this is surmounted by a curious, tall cylinder, which is divided into several joints, or segments, called skil. The number of these shows the importance of the wearer.
[pg 188]
The food of these tribes came largely from the sea. Fish were speared, trapped, and caught with hook and line. For halibut, queer, large, wooden hooks were used. When the fish had been drawn to the surface, they were killed with wooden clubs. Both hooks and clubs were curiously carved. Flesh of larger fishes, like halibut and salmon, was dried in the sun or over fire, and packed away. Clams were dried and strung on sticks. Seaweed was dried and pressed into great, square flat cakes; so were berries and scraped cedar bark. The people were fond of oil, and got it from many different fish. The most prized was that of the oolachen or candle-fish. This fish is so greasy that when put into a frying-pan, there is soon nothing left but some bones and scales floating about in the grease! To get this oil, the little fish were thrown into a canoe full of water. This was heated with stones made very hot in a fire, and then dropped into it. The heat drove out the oil, which floated on the top and was skimmed off [pg 189] and put into natural bottles—tubes of hollow seaweed stalk. At all meals a dish of oil stood in the midst of the party, and bits of dried fish, seaweed cake, or dried bark were dipped into it before being eaten.
XXVIII. Some Raven Stories.
All the Northwest Coast tribes had many stories. Some of these stories had been borrowed from tribe to tribe, and were told at many different places. Usually, however, the single tribes had stories that were favorites with them and really belonged to them. The favorite stories among the Tlingit and Haida were about the raven, whom they called yetl. There were many stories told of him and his doings. It is difficult sometimes to tell just what yetl was—whether bird or man. He could take on many forms, and was usually the friend of the Indians. In the olden time they did not have fire, daylight, fresh water, or the oolachen fish. It was yetl, the raven, called also Nekilstlas, who got them these good things.
All of these precious things belonged to a great chief who had a lovely daughter. The raven made love to this maiden. Once when at their house he pretended to be thirsty and begged her for a drink of water. The girl brought it to [pg 190] him in a bucket. He drank a little and laid the rest aside. By and by every one in the house was fast asleep except the raven; he was watching. He then got up quietly, put on his feather coat, took up the bucket in his bill and flew away with it. He was in such a hurry that he spilled the water here and there, and where it fell there have since been rivers and lakes. Never since that time have the Indians been without water.
But it was much harder to get the fire. Nekilstlas no longer dared to go to the chief's house or to make love to the maiden. He, however, changed himself into a spruce needle and floated on the water. He was thus got into the house without any one's knowing it, and there he changed into a little boy baby, whom the girl treated like her own son. He stayed there a long time, waiting his chance. At last, one day, he seized a burning brand from the fire and flew out of the smoke-hole in the roof with it. He was so careless that he set fire to many things. At the north end of Vancouver Island many of the trees are black, almost as if they were burned, and they say that was done by Nekilstlas when he flew away with the fire. However that may be, since then the Indians have had fire.
The old chief had the sun and the moon, but he kept them away from the people, and was very proud to think that he alone had light. Nekilstlas had to think a long time before he could make a plan to secure these for the Indians. At last he [pg 191] made himself an imitation sun and put on it something which made it shine. He then taunted the chief by telling him that he too had a light. For a time the chief did not believe him. At last Nekilstlas drew back his feather coat and let a piece of his bogus sun be seen. The chief believed it, and was so angry that he placed his real sun and moon in the sky, where they have been lights to the Indians ever since.
The last of the four possessions which the raven wanted to get from the old chief for his human friends was the oolachen fish, which yields the oil of which the Indians are so fond. The shag is a dirty seaside bird that has the unpleasant habit of vomiting up its food when it is excited. He was, however, a special friend of the chief, and one of the few whom he used to invite to eat oolachen with him. One time the shag had been eating pretty heartily at the chief's house, and afterward the raven set him and the sea-gull to fighting. In his excitement the shag threw up the fish he had eaten. The raven took the scales and smeared himself and his canoe all over with them. Going then to the chief's house, he asked if he might come in and rest, that he was tired out from catching oolachen. The chief thought at first that he was telling a lie, but when he saw the scales, he thought there must be other oolachen besides his, and in his rage he opened the boxes in which he kept them and let them all loose. Since then the Indians have had abundance [pg 192] of the oolachen to give them the oil they need.
Besides these stories of the things the raven got for them, there are others. The raven is not always the friend of men, and sometimes he does them harm and not good. There is a story of the raven and the fisherman. This fisherman had much trouble from some one stealing the bait and fish from his fish-hook. The thief was no one else than the raven. The fisherman finally put a magic hook on his line and let it down. When the raven tried to steal from this he was caught. When he had been pulled up to the surface of the water, he struggled fearfully, by pressing against the canoe with his feet and his wings. The fisherman, however, was too strong for him. He pulled so hard that he tore the raven's beak off, and then, seizing him, dragged him in shore. When he pulled off the raven's beak, the bird turned into a man, but he kept his face so covered up with his feather garment that only his eyes could be seen. The fisherman could not make him uncover his face; but one young man who stood by picked up a handful of dirt and rubbed it into the raven's eyes. Smarting with pain and taken by surprise, the raven threw off his mantle, and the men saw who he was. The raven was so angry, that ever since then ravens and their friends, the crows, have constantly troubled fishermen.
The Tshimpshian, who live south of the Tlingit, [pg 193] on the mainland, have a story of the raven. They say that two boys lived in a village. One of them was the son of a chief. One day the chief's son said to the other, when they were playing, “Let us take skins of birds and fly up to heaven.” They did so, and found things up there quite like this world. They found a house there, near a pond of water; and in this house lived a chief, who was a sort of deity. The daughters of this deity caught the two boys and were finally married to them, although the deity did not like them, and tried in every way to do them harm. They always escaped, however. They lived together there for a long time, and at last the wife of the chief's son had a little boy baby. One day, when she was playing with the baby, the little one slipped out of her hands, and fell down, down, from the sky into the sea. It happened that it was found and saved by the chief, who was really the baby's grandfather, though no one knew it at the time. When the little one had been taken to the village, it would not, for some time, eat anything. They offered it salmon and berry cake and hemlock bark, but he would not touch any of them. At last his grandfather said, “Feed him some fish stomachs.” Then the little fellow began to eat very greedily, and before he got through he had eaten up all the food that the village had stored away for use. Then he surprised every one by saying, “Don't you know who I am? I am the raven.”
[pg 194]
But the stories of the raven, if they were all written out, would make a large book. The naughty, greedy, dirty bird was the great hero of these peoples. They were anxious to explain everything, and most of their stories are to tell how things came to be.
XXIX. Totem Posts.
On approaching villages of many tribes on the Northwest Coast, the traveler sees great numbers of carved wooden posts. The largest, most striking, and most curious are no doubt those of the Tlingit of Alaska, and the Haida of Queen Charlotte Islands. Some of these posts stand in front of the houses, or very near them; others are set near the beach, beyond the village. When old they are weather-beaten and gray. They are sometimes compared to a forest of tree trunks left after a fire has swept through a wooded district.
There are three kinds of these carved posts,—totem posts, commemorative posts, and death posts. The death posts are the simplest of the three. Among the Tlingit and Haida the dead [pg 196] were usually burned. If the man had been important, a display was made of his body. He was dressed in his finest clothing, and all his treasures were placed around him. People came for some days to see his riches. At last the day for the burning of his body arrived. Many persons were present. The faces of the mourners were blackened, their hair cut short, and their heads were sprinkled with eagle-down. After the body had been burned, the ashes were gathered and put into a box, which was placed in a cavity hollowed out in the lower part of the death post. This was the old custom; nowadays the ashes may be put somewhere else. At the top [pg 197] of the death post was a cross-board on which was carved or painted the totem of the dead man.
The second kind of carved post is the commemorative post, put up to celebrate some important event. An old chief named Skowl once erected a great post near his house. He had erected it to commemorate the failure of the Russian missionaries to convert his village to Christianity. When the last missionary had gone, he put it up to recall their failure and to ridicule their religion. It was curiously carved. At the top was an eagle; below it a man with his right hand lifted, pointing to the sky; below it an angel; then a priest with his hands crossed upon his breast; then an eagle; lastly a trader.
The totem posts are, however, the most interesting. They are taller, more carefully made, and more elaborately carved than the others. They stand in front of the houses; among Tlingit at one side, among Haida at the very middle and close to the house. In fact, among the Haida the doorway of the house was a hole cut through the lower end of the totem post. The carvings on these posts refer to the people living in the house. Thus, in one Haida totem post there was a brown bear at the top—the totem of the man of the house; next came four skil or divisions of a hat; then came the great raven; then the bear and the hunter; then a [pg 198] bear—the last being the totem of the woman of the house.
Among the Tlingit and Haida every one bears the name of some animal or bird. Thus, among the Tlingit there are eighteen great families, with the name of wolf, bear, eagle, whale, shark, porpoise, puffin, orca, orca-bear; raven, frog, goose, beaver, owl, sea-lion, salmon, dogfish, crow. The first nine of these are considered related to one another; so are the last nine related. A man may not marry a woman of his own animal name or totem; nor can he marry one of the related families. Thus a wolf man could not marry a woman who was a wolf, or an eagle, or a shark, but he might marry a raven or a frog.
With us a child takes its father's name, but with these people it takes its mother's name. If a bear man married a raven woman, all the children would be ravens. The animal whose name a man bears is his totem. There is always some story told by people as to how they came to have their totem. Every one believes that the animal that is his totem can help him, and he pays much respect to it.
One story of how the bear became a totem is as follows: Long, long ago an Indian went into the mountains to hunt mountain goats. When far from home he met a black bear who took him home with him, and taught him to build boats and catch salmon. The man stayed two years [pg 199] with the bear, and then went home to his village. Every one feared him, for they thought him a bear; he looked just like one. One man, however, caught him and took him home to his house. He could not speak, and could not eat cooked food. A great medicine man advised that he should be rubbed with magic herbs. When this was done, he became a man again. After that, whenever he wanted anything, he went out into the woods and found his bear friend, who always helped him. What the bear taught him was of great use to him, and he caught plenty of salmon in the winter time when the river was covered with ice. The man built a fine new house, and painted the picture of a bear upon it. His sister made him a new dancing blanket, and into it she wove a picture of a bear. Ever since then the descendants of that man's sister have the bear for their totem.
Now you see something of the meaning of the totem posts. Upon them are carved the totems of the people living in the house. They are a great doorplate, giving the names of the family. This is important, because among Indians all the persons who have the same totem must help one another. If a man were in trouble, it was the duty of his totem-fellows to aid him. If he were a stranger, it was their duty to receive him. When a Tlingit or Haida found himself in a strange village, his first care would be to examine the totem posts to find one that bore his own totem. [pg 200] At the house marked by it he would surely be welcome.
But it was a rare thing for a totem post to have only the figures of the totems of the man and his wife. Other designs were carved in between these. These other designs might tell of the man's wealth or his importance, or they might represent some family story. The people of every totem had many stories which belonged only to them. In the totem post, already described, probably the great raven, and the bear, and the hunter, represented such stories. The four skil probably indicated that the man was important, for a man's importance is shown by the number of skil in his hat. The carving at the bottom, however, was most significant, for it gave the name of the woman and all her children.
[pg 201]