At a given signal, quick as lightning, the runners throw off their blankets, and one man in each party, previously selected, throws his ball as far as he can, and all the runners start after it. A second ball is always kept in reserve, in case the first should be lost.

The racers wear rattles of deer-hoofs and bits of reeds tied together on a strip of leather, which they stick in the backs of their girdle or hang over their backs. The magic rattling keeps them from falling asleep while running, so they say; besides, the deer-hoofs lend them the swiftness of the stag. Some runners adorn themselves with feathers from various birds, preferably the macaw and the peacock, tying them to short sticks. The few Tarahumares who have ever seen a peacock think a good deal of this bird, because it is considered light-footed and mystic, being foreign to their country. Some runners may be seen who paint their faces and legs with white chalk, near Batopilas, for instance.

They do not run at an extraordinary speed, but very steadily, hour after hour, mile after mile. Good runners make forty miles in six or eight hours. At one race, when they covered according to calculation twenty-one miles in two hours, I timed the leading runner and found that he made 290 feet in nineteen seconds on the first circuit, and on the next in twenty-four seconds. At a race rehearsal I saw them cover four miles in half an hour.

The public follows the race with great enthusiasm from beginning to end, the interest growing with each circuit. Many begin to follow the runners, shouting to them and urging them on. They also help them by pointing out the ball so that they can kick it without stopping to look for it. The wives of the contestants heat water and prepare pinole, which they hold out in drinking-gourds to the men as they pass. The latter stop for a few seconds to partake of this their favourite dish; and if this cannot be done, the tepid water is thrown over the shoulders of the runners, by way of refreshing them. As darkness comes on, torches of resinous pine wood are lighted and carried along to illuminate the path for the runners, that they may not stumble, making the scene one of extreme picturesqueness, as these torchbearers, demon-like, hurry through the forest.

One contestant after another drops out. The excitement becomes wilder; more and more people join in accompanying the few runners left, their principal motive being to shout encouraging words to the runners and urge them to exert themselves to the utmost. And at last the best man comes in, generally alone, the others having either given up the contest or being far behind.

The race usually commences at midday; but often the bets are not finished until late in the afternoon. It may last four hours and even longer. A famous runner, now dead, could run from midday until sunrise. There is no prize for the winner himself, except the golden opinions he earns among the women; and his father may accept presents from lucky bettors. A man who wins a cow is expected to give two pesos to the victorious runner; in case he wins a goat he gives half a real.

The race over, the wagers are immediately paid and the Indians quickly disperse, soon to arrange for another contest.

Sometimes there is an old man’s race preceding that of the young men, the latter being always the principal event of the day. Races are also run by women, and the betting and excitement that prevail on these occasions run as high as at the men’s races, though on a smaller scale. Instead of tossing the ball with their toes, they use a large wooden fork, with two or three prongs, to pitch it forward. Sometimes they have a ring of twisted strips of yucca leaves instead of the ball, but more often two interlocked rings which they throw ahead with a stick curved at the end. This game, which is called rowé-mala (rōwé signifies a ring), must be very ancient, for rings of this kind have sometimes been found in ancient cliff-dwellings. It is certainly a strange sight to see these sturdy amazons race heavily along with astonishing perseverance, when creeks and water-holes come in their way, simply lifting their skirts à la Diane and making short work of the crossing.

Next in importance is the Devil, whom they fear even more than their own sorcerers. He is always represented with a big beard, such as the Mexicans wear. He is old and has only one eye, and the shamans have seen him often. He plays the guitar, but never the violin, because the bow and the strings form a cross. He would like very much to go to heaven, and the shamans have to work hard to keep him from doing so. There is also a female devil, his wife, who bears many children, always twins, who are the original Mexicans.

Their paradise consists in big ranches, where they will get all the animals which in this life they sacrificed to Tara Dios. The occupation of Tata Dios in heaven is to run foot-races with the angels, while the Devil vies with the sorcerers in making the lives of the Tarahumares uncomfortable, he being the chief sorcerer of all.

The Tarahumares are the sons of God, and the Mexicans the sons of the Devil. For this reason the Tarahumares say that it is no crime to eat the cows of the Mexicans; they think the cows do not really belong to the Shabotshi anyway. Neither do they tell when a Tarahumare steals anything from a Mexican, while they are very quick to find out if one Tarahumare steals from another.

I give here some of the myths and traditions of the tribe. Those which Christian ideas have entered into will easily be recognised, and it is not necessary to draw special attention to them.

In the beginning there were many worlds before this, but one after the other came to an end. Just before the world was destroyed for the last time, all the rivers flowed toward the place where the sun rises. But now the waters also flow toward the other side, where the sun sets.1

The bears put the world into shape. Before their time it was nothing but a waste of sand.

In ancient times there were plenty of lagoons around Guachochic; but the land was put in order, when the people came and began to dance yūmarí.

The rocks were at first soft and small; but they grew until they became large and hard. They have life inside.

The people grew up from the soil, while the earth was as level as a field ready for sowing. But in those days they lived to be only one year old, and then they died like the flowers.

According to another tradition they descended from heaven with corn and potatoes in their ears, and were led by Tata Dios into these mountains, the middle of the world, having originally come from the north-east or east.

In the beginning the Sun and the Moon were alone, and they were children. They wore dresses made of palm-leaves, and they lived in a house thatched with palm-leaves. They had neither cattle nor sheep. Both the Sun and the Moon were dark, and the Morning Star was the only one that shed any light on the earth. The Moon Was eating lice from the hair of the Sun, and the Morning Star was watching at night. There were 600 Tarahumares at that time, and they were much hampered by the darkness. They could not do their work, and they had to hold each other’s hands, and they were stumbling all the time. Then they cured the Sun and the Moon by dipping small crosses into tesvino, and touching the Sun and the Moon on the chest, on the head, and on the back. Then the Sun and the Moon began to shine and to shed light.

The Tarahumares were fighting among themselves and Tata Dios sent much rain, and all the people perished. After the flood he sent three men and three women to people the earth. They planted corn at once, bringing three kinds, the same varieties still found here—soft corn, hard corn, and yellow corn.

Tata Dios and the Devil—The Sheep and the Deer—Why the Cocks Crow in the Morning2

Tata Dios came down into the world, and he had in his house many large jars filled with strong tesvino. On the other side of the river Huerachic, in the big arroyos, lived the Devil. He was very poor, and he had only one small jar with tesvino, and that was bad. The Devil and his brother invited Tata Dios to come and drink tesvino with them. Tata Dios went to the Devil’s house, and they gave him the jar and the drinking-gourd, and he sat down to drink; but he did not get intoxicated because there was not enough tesvino. When he had emptied the jar, Tata Dios said: “Now we will go to my house and drink tesvino; I have some, too.” They accepted the invitation, and all went away together, and Tata Dios gave them a large jar full of tesvino and the drinking-gourd. They drank much, and the Devil and his brother sang like the Mexicans, until they lay down on the ground completely overcome. Later in the night the Devil rose, and he went to the wife of Tata Dios. And when she awoke, she was very angry, and roused her husband, and he fought with the Devil, until Tata Dios got killed. But after a while he rose and said to the Devil, “Now go away, go below.” “I am going home to get my weapons,” said the Devil. But first he went into the house of Tata Dios and robbed him of his money, and [noticing the reporter’s book] of his books and everything. He hid all the things in his house and Tara Dios came to look for them. Tata Dios again was very angry, and they fought until he was killed. But this time, too, he rose and said to the Devil, “Go below,” and the Devil went below and remained there, and Tata Dios went home.

One day at dawn the people saw the lands full with sheep everywhere. On a flat stone Tata Dios drew figures like the tracks of the deer, and from them all the deer originated.

When Tata Dios returned to heaven, he carried in his right hand a rooster, which he placed on top of a palm-tree. The cock crowed three times while Tata Dios ascended to heaven. After this, whenever the sun rises in the morning, the cocks on earth respond when they hear the cocks in heaven crow.

After Tata Dios had gone to heaven he never came back. He is angry with the Tarahumares, and he wants to destroy the world, but the Virgin says: “Let the people alone; I pity the family we left behind.” This is the reason why the world stands.

When Tara Dios went away, he said, “I will leave two crosses here.” He then put up a cross where the sun sets at the end of the world, and another where the sun rises. The cross in the east he uses when he rises to heaven and when he comes to visit the Tarahumares, and the cross in the west is for the Tarahumares when they die and go to heaven. Between these two crosses the Tarahumares live. They would like to go to the crosses and worship before them, but they are prevented from doing so by large bodies of water. They therefore set up small crosses in front of their houses, and before them they hold their dances, and God comes to eat near these crosses. He only eats the soul or substance of the food, and leaves the rest for the people.

The Blackbird and the Crow, long, long ago, saw a contest between two giants, who made a bet as to which of them could throw a stone farthest. The stakes were four deer. One giant, called Gōlí, carried a bird in his hand and threw it instead of the stone; so he won; then he returned to where the Blackbird and the Crow were standing. The Blackbird said to the Crow, “They will not do us any harm until they stoop to pick up a stone.” But the Crow replied, “Maybe they bring the stone in their hands.” So they flew away, and while they were flying the Crow said, “I am going to the mountain to look for my wife and my son. They went away and have been lost for six days.”

The Coyote asked permission from Tata Dios to come into the world, and Tara Dios asked him what he would do there. The Coyote replied that he would steal the animals and the corn from the Tarahumares. Then Tata Dios gave him permission to go and make a living in this way, because the Coyote did not know how to work.

The Coyote challenged the Mountain Lion to a contest, that they might see which of them had the better eyesight and was the smarter. The Lion said, “Let us see who can first shoot an animal.” Then he proposed that they should go to a water-hole, and to this the Coyote agreed; so they started out on the hunt. The Lion climbed up on a tree, but the Coyote remained below on the ground, and paid no attention to what the Lion was doing. A deer came, and the Lion struck it dead. The Coyote saw this from where he was hunting, and by and by he found a dead mare. When they met again the Lion said to the Coyote, “Well, how did you get on?” The Coyote replied: “Very well; I killed a mare.” But the mare had been dead so long that she was smelling. Therefore the Lion said to the Coyote, “Don’t be a liar,” and he chased him off, and the Coyote was ashamed of himself.

The Coyote next met the Grey Fox, and told him to go and challenge the Lion. The Grey Fox went to the Lion and said: “How do you do, Brother Lion? I hear you got the best of Brother Coyote.” The Lion replied: “No, Brother Grey Fox; the Coyote made a fool of himself.” Then the Grey Fox said: “Let us see whether you can get the best of me, and which of us can catch a rabbit first.” So they went to the mountain to look for rabbits. At sunrise the Lion took a position facing the north, and the Grey Fox faced south, and both of them watched for rabbits. After spying for a while, the Lion saw one, but by that time the Grey Fox was asleep alongside of him. So the Lion said to the rabbit: “Pass right between us, and then go to the hole in the oak-tree on the rock, and act as if you wanted to go into the hole, but go away to one side.” Then the Lion woke up the Grey Fox and said: “Over there is a rabbit. He went into a small hole into which I cannot follow him; but you are small, and you can catch him.” The Grey Fox just saw the rabbit’s tail disappearing behind the rock, but the rabbit hid himself, and did not enter the hole, as the Lion had told him. “All right,” said the Grey Fox, “I will go; but, as you saw the rabbit first, you have won the bet.” But the Lion said: “No; you go into the hole, and fetch the rabbit out and eat him.” Then the Grey Fox entered the hole, and the Lion made a fire in front of it, and when the Grey Fox came out again he was burned, and his feet were sore from the fire. That is why the Grey Fox always walks so lightly. And he reproached the Lion, saying that he was very bad, and begged him to let him go and not to kill him. He cried and went to hide himself in a cave, because he was afraid of the Lion. Then the Humming-bird who lived in the cave stung him in the face with his bill and in the eyes, and he went away and never came back again.

The Woodpecker made a guitar and gave it to the Butterfly to play on, and the Cock danced a pascual, and the Cricket danced with the Locust, and the Hen was singing. While the dance was going on, the Coyote came to see what he could get from the feast, and the Grey Fox also came, and he brought some tunas (fruit of the nopal cactus). They were very nice and sweet, and he gave one to the Coyote and said, “Here, Brother Coyote, take this nice mouthful.” He had well rubbed off the spines, and the fruit tasted well to the Coyote. It made his heart glad, and he wanted more. The Grey Fox said to the Coyote, “I will give you more tunas, but you must eat them with your eyes shut.” He gave him some tunas from which he had not cleaned off the spines, and as the spines hurt the Coyote he became very angry and wanted to eat the Grey Fox. But the Fox said to him: “Don’t be angry, Brother Coyote: I will give you a drink; and don’t howl, because there are dogs around.” He went to the Cock and to the Hen, and asked them for tesvino, and he brought it to the Coyote and said, “Here, Brother Coyote, drink this.” The Coyote drank two gourdsful, and then a third one, and when he had finished this he began to howl, because he was very drunk, and he asked the Grey Fox, “Why are they all dancing?” The Grey Fox replied: “They dance, because Miss Cricket married Mister Locust; therefore the Butterfly is playing on the guitar, and the Cock dances with delight, and the Hen is singing.” But the Coyote said: “I don’t want the Hen to sing; I want to eat her.” Then the Grey Fox took the Coyote into the arroyo and told him to remain there, while he went to fetch the Hen. But instead of the Hen he got two very fierce dogs and put them in a bag, and carried them into the arroyo, where the Coyote was waiting. He was very drunk and very angry, and he said to the Grey Fox, “Why did you keep me waiting so long, you cursed old Grey Fox t” The Grey Fox replied: “Don’t be angry, Brother Coyote; here I bring you some very nice Hens. I was looking for many of them, that is why I remained away so long. Now, shall I let them out one by one, or do you want them all at once?” The Coyote replied, “Let them out all at once, that I may have a good old time with them.” Then the Grey Fox opened the bag, and out came the two fierce dogs; and they caught the Coyote and bit him and tore him to pieces. The Grey Fox ran away and hid himself, but afterward he came and got the paws of the Coyote and threw them into a water-pool.

The Frog and the Coyote made a wager as to which of them would gain in a foot-race. They were to run along a ridge, and return to a point close by the starting-point. The Coyote lost, because the Frog jumped directly over to the finishing-point. This happened twice, and the Coyote wanted to kill the Frog, but the Frog dived into a water-hole, where the Coyote could not catch him.

The Bears, whose skin is of the same color as the Tarahumares, are called “grandfathers,” āmúli, and are so to speak their forebears. In ancient times they danced on top of the mountains, where they have roads yet.

Often the bears are sorcerers, who, after death, assumed the shape of these animals. In fact, there are two kinds of bears, one that is real, and another one that is a dead Tarahumare. The people do not know which is which. Only the shamans can make the distinction, and it is useless to try and kill the man-bear, because he has a very hard skin, and arrows cannot pierce it. He is the very devil.

The following curious incident happened near Nararachic a few years ago: A bear had done much damage to a Tarahumare’s corn-field. Some forty Indians with over fifty dogs gathered together to kill the bear. In order to make the dogs ferocious, the Indians set them to fight among each other, by way of preparing them for the hunt. The Indians now divided themselves into several parties, and presently one lot encountered the bear. They asked the shaman who was with them whether the creature was a bear or something else, and he replied, “Let the dogs on and see.” As the dogs had never seen a bear, they were timid, and did not bark or attack the beast; therefore the shaman said: “This is not a bear. All is lost. The dogs do not know him, and the bear does not see the dogs with his eyes. He is from hell, and he is a devil, who came here in the shape of a bear, because he wants to eat us. Let him alone and let us all go away.” And they all retreated.

The mountain lion is a good animal and watches over the people. When he sees an animal such as the bear or the coyote approach a man, he roars to warn the man; and if the man pays no attention, the lion attacks the animal to save the man; therefore strips of his skin are worn around the ankles and the neck as a protection.

The grey fox is considered an astute animal and is feared. If he passes by a house in which there is a sick person, and calls three times, the patient will die. One of my Indian men related the following story: One night he and another man were sleeping in a house when he heard the grey fox whistle. At first he did not know what it was, and he said to his companion,

“Listen, what is that?” The other one said, “This is a very bad thing, very ugly.” He was a man who knew something, and he said, “If this grey fox returns for two nights more and whistles outside of the house of our sick neighbour, that man will die.” My informant did not believe this at the time; but the next night the grey fox returned and whistled very uncannily, and on the third night he did it again. And on the following morning a man came and asked the Indian to help him to bury the neighbour who had died during the night. They went to the house of the dead man, and “then,” the narrator concluded, “I knew that the grey fox had said the truth, for the grey fox never tells a lie.”

The grey fox and the rabbit in ancient times danced rutubúri.

The horned toad holds the world. It says: “Don’t tread on me! I am the colour of the earth and I hold the world; therefore walk carefully, that you do not tread on me.”

The master of the deer lives inside of the mountains, in the earth; therefore the Tarahumares place small quantities of corn and beans, or three arrows in a jar, on top of the highest mountain to buy the deer from the one below.

The brown ground squirrel (chipawíki), which lives among rocks and seldom ascends trees, is thought to become a serpent. This belief is also current among certain classes of Mexicans. A Mexican told me that a man once smashed the head of a chipawíki in the hollow of a tree, and when he wanted to take his game out, he found that the rest of the animal had the body of a serpent. It cannot be used for sacrifices.

Rats become bats.

The owl is very bad. Whenever it comes to a house and screeches, somebody falls ill. If it calls three times, in three consecutive nights, the sick person will die. The owl is also very smart. It knows when the Tarahumare’s blanket (in which he is wrapped when sleeping along the fire) is going to be burned. When the owl hoots near a home it says, “Chu-i, chu-i, chu-i,”—”dead, dead, dead.” Owls are killed but not eaten.

The goat sucker makes darts through the air and calls down rain. It has two nice fat young, which the Tarahumares consider a great delicacy.

The crow is much in disfavour because it eats the corn. Only the young crows are eaten.

The large swifts (olamáka) are thought to be witches, who pierce the souls of people and eat them. They are used by the sorcerers, whom they obey like dogs. Once a woman was sitting in a corn-field watching it by the side of a fire, and making yarn, when a swift settled on her skirt. She told a girl to bring a large basket, with which she covered the bird up, caught it and had it for many years. Every night the bird flew away, and then returned in the morning. Once, when the woman was absent at a tesvino feast, the girl killed the bird and roasted it. She could not eat it, however, because it had such a bad smell, and the woman found it on her return in the basket, dead and roasted. The girl ran away and the raccoons ate the corn the woman was watching.

The giant woodpecker during the wet season rises high up toward the sun; that is why he gets his tail burned.

When the Tarahumares handle any kind of fish they take care not to touch their hair, for fear that it may turn grey and they become old.

The rattlesnakes are the companions of the sorcerers and watch to meet them and then talk with them. A Mexican once killed a rattlesnake, and the Indian grew very angry and said that the snake had protected his house; now he had no one to guard it.

Large serpents, which only the shamans can see, are thought to live in the rivers. They have horns and very big eyes.

The dragon-fly has no song; it flies about without making a noise.

Tata Dios put sheep into the world; they are good animals because they give wool from which people can weave blankets, and their meat is good, and they do not weep when they are killed. But goats were put into the world by the Devil; their hair is of no use, their meat is bad, and they howl much when they are killed.

Without his shaman the Tarahumare would feel lost, both in this life and after death. The shaman is his priest and physician. He performs all the ceremonies and conducts all the dances and feasts by which the gods are propitiated and evil is averted, doing all the singing, praying, and sacrificing. By this means, and by instructing the people what to do to make it rain and secure other benefits, he maintains good terms for them with their deities, who are jealous of man and bear him ill-will. He is also on the alert to keep those under his care from sorcery, illness, and other evil that may befall them. Even when asleep he watches and works just as if his body were awake. Though real illness is the exception with him, the Tarahumare believes that an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure, and for this reason he keeps his doctor busy curing him, not only to make his body strong to resist illness, but chiefly to ward off sorcery, the main source of trouble in the Indian’s life. The demand for shamans is therefore great, but the supply is quite equal to it. For instance, in the little village of Nararachic and the neighbouring ranches, where there are about 180 households, twenty-five shamans are living, each of whom takes care of about twenty souls, though only about ten of them enjoy great reputation in the community.

Before a man is allowed to consider himself a shaman, he is examined by a “board” of recognised members of the profession, who pass upon his fitness to enter their ranks.

These priest-doctors have their specialties. Some sing only at rutuburi or yumari dances, others only at hikuli-feasts. A few of them do not sing at all, but are merely healers, although far the greater number also sing at the feasts. Those who make a specialty of the hikuli cult are considered the greatest healers. They all conscientiously fast and pray, complying with the demands of the gods, which impose restrictions and abstinence, and they are therefore called “righteous men” (owirúami). They are the wise men of the tribe; and as rain-makers, healers, and keepers of the heritage of tribal wisdom and traditions, their influence is powerful.

Their services are never rendered gratuitously; in fact, what with the payments they receive from singing at feasts and curing the sick, they generally manage to live better than the rest of the people. Whenever a shaman is hungry, he goes to the house of some of his well-to-do clients and cures the family, receiving all the food he wants in payment for his efforts, for what would become of the people if the shaman should die? The Devil would surely take them away at once. Therefore the best parts of the meat from the animal killed for the feast is given to the shamans, and they generally get all the tesvino they can hold. In winter time, when numerous feasts are being held, the shamans are nearly all the time under the influence of their native stimulants. Yet this does not seem to harm them, nor does it in the estimation of the people detract from the efficacy of their singing; the curing is no less potent, even though the doctor can hardly keep from falling all over his patient. It is always incumbent on the shamans to be peaceful, and they never fight at the feasts.

The singing shamans invariably have a primitive musical instrument, the rattle, with which they beat time to their singing and dancing. Ordinarily it is made from a gourd filled with pebbles and mounted on a short stick which serves as a handle. Another kind is made from coarse shavings glued together. The latter variety is not infrequently decorated with daubs of red or some similar painting. Sometimes at the feast the shaman, even nowadays, may be seen wearing a head-dress made of the plumes of birds. Through the plumes the birds are thought to impart all that they know. Besides, the plumes are supposed to keep the wind from entering the shaman’s body, and thus prevent him from falling ill.

When curing, the shamans may sometimes use rational means. There is in existence around Norogachic for instance, a kind of sweating-bath, made by placing in a hole in the ground, just large enough for a man to sit in, several hot stones, pouring water on them, and covering them up with branches of the fragrant mountain cedar. The steam passing through the latter is credited with curative power.

The Indians know several excellent medicinal herbs. Palo amarillo is a kind of household remedy used extensively in every family. There are many other highly valued herbs and trees, some of which have a wonderfully refreshing and invigorating aromatic scent. Headache is cured by a green herb called pachoco, of which they smell until they begin to sneeze. To cure constipation they boil ari with a grain of salt, or they heat stones and pour water over them and sit over the steam.

Both the sacred little cactus called híkuli and the maguey have undoubtedly medicinal properties, but the administration of these remedies, especially of the former, is connected with so many rites and ceremonies that their therapeutic value becomes obscured. The curative power of tesvino is absolutely magical, and this is the remedy to which recourse is most commonly had. In administering it the shaman makes his customary passes, and exhales over the patient to blow away the disease. He also dips a small cross into the liquor, and with the wetted end taps the sick man on the head, neck, shoulders, and back, and draws crosses over his arms. Finally the patient is given three spoonfuls of the liquor, while all the members of the family stand around and murmur approvingly, “Thank you, thank you.” Occasionally tesvino is exclusively used for curing, with the aid of two small crosses, one of red Brazil wood, the other of white pine. If he chooses, a shaman may provoke illness as well as cure it, but he cannot cure the person he made ill.

When a shaman is asked to cure a person of any complaint, real or imaginary, his first move is to find the cause of the trouble. According to his opinion illness is brought on either by the wind or by sorcery. From the former kind of disease nobody dies, although the heart, the liver, or the head may be attacked; but the other kind is serious. Sorcerers may put snakes into the legs, and such animals as centipedes, toads, larvae, scorpions, or even small bears into the body of some unfortunate person, and these disturbers have to be drawn out at once or else they will eat the sick man’s heart. The shaman therefore first feels the patient all over, to find if something—in other words, the disease-bringing animal—is moving underneath the skin. Illness may also result from small stones, or the spine of the nopal placed in the body by the same agency.

A person suspected of having been bewitched is told to hold his mouth open to the sun, that the shaman may see whether the evil entered the body through this aperture. People become bewitched at night through the openings of the body, and the shaman also examines the nostrils, ears, etc. It is also the shaman’s business to find out who caused the trouble, and since he can see more than ordinary people he is able to track the offender.

Some people by their mere looks or thoughts are liable to make a. person ill. Such illness may be brought on in retaliation for some slight or offence, and may even result in death. The first thoughts of a person falling ill are: Whom have I offended? What have I taken that I should have left alone, and what have I kept that I should have given? Then the shaman may tell him to find the person to whom he had refused to give food, and the sick one and his wife go from house to house asking the people: “Was it you whom I refused food? Someone has made me ill, and I want him to make me well again.” If he can find the person whom he had offended, and arrange matters with him, he will recover.

The doctor may find that the person’s heart is on the wrong side, and prescribe a liberal allowance of tesvino to get it back to its proper place. But generally the skill of the shaman is taxed more severely and he resorts to the more direct and powerful methods of magic. A common occurrence is that of illness caused by maggots, which the shaman has to extract from the patient by means of a sucking-tube, a short piece of reed about three inches long, cut from a kind of reed different from that of the arrow-shaft. He places it on the afflicted spot, and after sucking vigorously for a minute or so empties from his mouth into his hand or into a corn-leaf, what purports to be the maggots. I never had an opportunity of examining closely the small white bits of something or other that he spit out, but they seemed to me to be tiny pieces of buckskin which the man had secreted in his mouth and which swelled up when saturated with saliva. To the shaman they represent maggots; that is, the embodiment Of the disease, and all the people firmly believe that they are maggots. The corn-leaf and its contents are buried; a cross is made on the ground over the spot and a ceremonial circuit run around it. When resting between operations, the shaman places his sucking-tube into a bowl of water in which some herbs are soaking.

The mode of curing, however, varies. A common way in use near Guachochic is to make the patient stand on all fours and bathe him well with water; then to place him on a blanket and carry him over a fire toward the cross and the four corners of the world. When put down on the ground again he lies or kneels on the blanket, and the shaman places his tube against the afflicted part and begins to suck forcibly, while the rest of the people stand around with sticks, ready to kill the disease so as to prevent it from returning and doing harm to others. Presently the shaman produces from his mouth a small stone, which he asserts was the cause of the disease. While the people are furiously beating the air, he proceeds at once to bury it in the earth, or in the bottom of the river, into which he dives. He may suck out as many as eight stones, but generally contents himself with four; and for treating a man in this way he receives four almuds of maize.

On one occasion, when I had taken a little cold, I asked a shaman friend whether he could cure me. “Certainly I can,” was the confident reply. He took from a little basket, in which he kept his hikuli or sacred cacti and probably similar valuables, three black stones and said that he would sell one of these to me; if I put it into warm water it would cure me. This was not quite to my liking, as I wanted him to perform the magical feat of sucking maggots out of the skin. He complied with my request, and told me to go ahead to my camp, whither he would follow me soon. On his arrival I offered him some food, as my case was not urgent, but he declined, and proceeded to cure me. A saddle blanket was spread out for me to kneel on, and my Mexican and Indian attendants were told to retire, while he made his examination. Having ascertained that I had a headache, he took my head between his dirty hands, pressed it, applied his lips to my right ear, and commenced to suck very energetically. This was rather trying to my nerves, though not unendurably so. Presently he let go his hold, and spit out quite a lot of blood into a cup an Indian boy was holding out to him. He repeated the operation on my left ear with the same result. “More pain?” he asked. “Yes,” I said, “in my right hand.” He immediately grabbed that member in his mouth, biting almost through the skin over the pulse, and after having sucked for a little while, deposited contents, of a similar nature, into the cup from his mouth. It was afterward found that the blood was mixed with a considerable number of grass seeds, which had been the cause of my illness. I had not known that I was so “seedy.”