Another had a buffalo skull hung to the thong pa.s.sed through his back, and danced until the weight of the skull tore out the thong. From a pole hung eight thongs; one man took two of these and pa.s.sed them through his cuts and fastened them; he then hung back and looked upward at the sun. Other men, who did not take part in the dance itself, sat near the sun pole, and with new knives cut bits of flesh from their shoulders and held them up to the sun pole. Sometimes a man took his horse with him into the dancing lodge. His chest was pierced in two places and thongs from the pole were inserted; he was then tied to his horse, and the animal was whipped up.

The thongs were thus suddenly jerked and the flesh torn.

[Ill.u.s.tration.]

Tortures of the Mandan Sun Dance. (After Catlin.)

These are only a few of the dreadful things that have been told of sun-dance tortures. They are taken from a description given by an Indian named George Bushotter. He not only described the dance, but drew a curious lot of rude pictures showing it.

Years before, George Catlin saw the sun dance of the Mandans, and left four terrible pictures of it. The celebration at that time among the Mandans exceeded in the horror of its tortures that which we have described.

While these tortures were going on in the dancing lodge, all sorts of things were being done outside. The old women danced. Songs were sung in honor of the young men. Children were gathered together and their ears were pierced. Presents were given away. A double fence of poles connected the house of preparation and the dance house, and upon it objects of all kinds were hung. These were free gifts to any one who chose to take them.

From the time the sacred tree was set up until the dance was over, the young men taking part fasted and took no drink. While they suffered, and as they gazed at the sun or lifted up their hands toward it, they continually prayed, saying, "Please pity me; bring to pa.s.s the things I desire." When all was over, the young men were taken home, and each was given four sips of water and a bit of food. A little later they might eat all they liked. Then they went into the sweat lodge. They were now through, and ever after might boast of having danced to Wakantanka.

J. OWEN DORSEY.-Missionary, ethnologist. Was connected with the Bureau of Ethnology. Wrote many papers, one of which is _Siouan Cults_.

XXIV. THE PUEBLOS.

The most interesting Indians of the Southwest are the Pueblos, so called from their habit of living in towns. The word Pueblo is Spanish, and means a village or town. More than three hundred years ago the Spaniards, exploring northward from Mexico, found these cl.u.s.ters of industrious Indians living in their quaint towns. They conquered them and brought them missionaries. They taught them their beautiful language, and even to-day Spanish is spoken in all the pueblos in addition to the native Indian tongue. When the Spaniards entered New Mexico there were more than one hundred pueblos; to-day there are about twenty. Most of these are in New Mexico, but seven, the Moki towns, are in Arizona.

The home of the Pueblos is a wonderful land. It is a country of desert, of flat-topped _mesas_, of sharp-pinnacled crests, of broad valleys, and deep and narrow canons. It is a land where the sky is almost always blue, and where the air is clear. There are but few streams, and every spring is precious. The people always built near water, and selected some spot in a valley where there was room for the corn-fields.

The largest of the present pueblos is Zuni, in New Mexico. Some years ago a white man, Frank Cushing, went to Zuni and lived for a long time there to learn about the life and customs of the Pueblo Indians. They were kind to him, at first taking him into their own houses, and later allowing him a little house by himself. Since Mr. Cushing went to live at Zuni, a number of other persons have lived at other pueblos, so that we know a good deal about them now.

[Ill.u.s.tration.]

View of Pueblo: Taos, N. M. (From Photograph.)

In former times a pueblo consisted of one great house, or, at most, of a few great houses, each the home of a large number of people. Taos, in northern New Mexico, is, perhaps, as old-fashioned as any of the pueblos now occupied. Even to-day it consists almost entirely of two large houses, one on each side of the little Taos River. The houses are so built that the flat roofs of the different stories form a set of steps as one looks at them from in front. In a three-story building the lower floor would have three sets of rooms, one in front of another. The roof of the front line of rooms would form a flat platform in front of the front rooms of the second story, which consisted only of two lines of rooms. The roof of the front line of these, in turn, was a platform in front of the single line of third-story rooms. Formerly there were no doors in the lower rooms, but ladders were placed against the wall, and persons climbed up on the roof; then through a hole in the roof, by means of another ladder they climbed down into the room. By ladders from the roof of the first floor they climbed to the top of the second story; there were doors in the rooms of the second and third stories. Nowadays there are usually doors into the lower rooms, but they still use ladders for getting into the upper stories.

The people are fond of sitting on the house-tops as they work. There they spin, sh.e.l.l corn, cut and dry squashes, shape pottery vessels, etc. There they gather in crowds when there are dances in the pueblo, and when there are foot races or pony races.

The walls of these houses are built of stone covered over with adobe mud, or of sun-dried adobe bricks. They did not formerly have what we would call windows, but there were small openings in the walls for air, or for peepholes. In the pueblos of to-day we find true sashes with gla.s.s in a few of the houses. There are also some rather old rooms that have windows made of "isingla.s.s" or gypsum, a mineral found in the mountains, which can be split into thin sheets, which are transparent. The chimneys in these houses are made of broken water-jars laid up, one on another, and the joints plastered with mud.

[Ill.u.s.tration.]

Pueblo Pottery. (From Originals in Peabody Museum.)

The Pueblo Indians are industrious. The men have to attend to their fields, their orchards of peaches and apricots, and their flocks and herds. The women tend the gardens, make pottery and baskets, and prepare the food. Men are also weavers of blankets and belts. The produce of the fields is chiefly corn, but some wheat is also raised. Considerable crops are made of watermelons, muskmelons, squashes, and gourds. The most important domestic animals are ponies, the little donkeys called _burros_, and goats. Near the pueblos are always several enclosures built of poles set in the ground, called _corrals_. These are for the animals, and one kind only is usually kept in one corral. The Indian boys have great fun at evening when the burros are brought home from pasture and put into the corral. They go in among them and play until dark with the patient little beasts. They climb up on to them and ride, push, pull, and tease them.

Early the next morning the whole herd is taken out to pasture by two or three boys, whose work it is to stay with them all day.

[Ill.u.s.tration.]

Estufa at Cochiti, N. M. (From Photograph.)

A visitor to a pueblo would be sure to notice the _estufas_. These differ with the pueblo, but the characteristic Rio Grande pueblo type is a large, round, single-roomed, flat-topped building. They are smoothly coated outside with adobe clay. A flight of steps leads to the roof, and a long ladder projecting through a hole in the roof leads down to the inside. The floor of the estufa is considerably lower than the ground outside. Years ago, before the Spanish priests taught the Indians our ideas of family life, all the men and large boys slept in the estufa at night, while the women and little children slept in the big houses. Nowadays the estufas are somewhat mysterious places where the dancers practice for the great dances, and where, on the day of celebration, they dress and ornament for the event.

At the pueblos are many little round-topped buildings of clay and stone.

They have a small opening or door at the bottom. They are the ovens for baking bread. The women build a fine fire of dry brush inside the oven until it is heated thoroughly. The ashes and coals are then raked out, and the loaves of bread, shaped like large rolls, are put inside on the floor, and a sheepskin is hung at the door. In about an hour the bread is removed, well baked and piping hot. Some years ago a lady visiting Taos wrote a description of that pueblo. She mentioned these clay ovens, and said, "When not in use for baking bread, they make nice dog kennels." We have never seen any except such as had the doorway carefully filled up with stones when they were not in use for baking.

The bread baked in these ovens is made of wheat flour. Another kind, called paper-bread, is made of corn. The chief work of the Pueblo woman is grinding corn meal. The grinding is done upon a stone set slantingly on the ground. This stone is called a _metate_. The woman kneels in front of it and holds a rubbing stone in her hands. Throwing a handful of grains of corn upon the metate, she rubs it to meal with the rubbing stone. It is hard work, and the woman's body moves up and down, up and down, as she grinds. Usually she sings in time to her movements. Sometimes three or four grindstones are set side by side, separated from each other by boards. Several women grind together, each at one of the stones. The first grinds the corn to a coa.r.s.e meal; she then pa.s.ses it to the next, who grinds it finer, and then pa.s.ses it along to be made still finer.

In making paper-bread fine corn meal is mixed with water into a dough or batter. A fire is then built under a flat stone with a smooth top. When this is hot, the woman spreads a thin sheet of dough upon it with her hand; in a moment this is turned, and then the sheet, which is almost as thin as paper, is folded or rolled up and is ready to eat. The color of paper-bread varies, but commonly it is a dull bluish-green and tastes sweet and good.

For threshing wheat the Pueblos prepare a clean, round spot of ground, perhaps twenty feet across. It is smooth, with a hard, well-trodden floor of clay. It is surrounded with a circle of poles stuck in the ground, to which ropes are fastened in order to make an enclosure.

The grain, cut in the fields, is brought in and heaped up on the clay floor. Ponies are driven into the enclosure, and a boy with a whip keeps them running around. They tread the grain loose from the chaff or husk. In the afternoon, when the wind has risen, men with wooden shovels and pitchforks throw the grain and chaff into the air. The wheat, being heavy, falls, while the chaff is blown away. When the grain has thus been nearly cleaned, the women come with great bowl-shaped baskets. Spreading a blanket or skin robe on the ground, a woman takes a basketful of the grain, holds it up above her head, and gently shakes it from side to side, pouring out a little stream of the grain all the time. As this falls, the wind blows out the last of the chaff and dirt, and the grain is left clean, ready for use.

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 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 ma.s.ses, 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 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, 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 pa.s.sages 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. 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 ma.s.s, 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 upon the board in front of the kisi as they pa.s.s 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration.]