USA > Arizona > History of Arizona, Vol. VII > Part 12
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stone and resembled a large cigar holder. Run- ning around three sides was a number of stone implements. In front of the altar was also a pile of green corn. We went again in the after- noon, from 1 to 2, to the estufa where the snakes were kept, which is called, Captain Bourke in- forms me, 'Estufa of the Eagle Gens.' We found that the altar had been destroyed, and in its place on the spot was a bowl containing a medicine or decoction, which Bourke uncovered and tasted. We found a large number of men and boys painting and dressing themselves for the dance. There were two old men reclining on the floor keeping the snakes in order. All the business of preparation was carried on in silence, no noise or confusion of any kind; not a word was spoken. The room was now crowded with old and young, making ready for the dance by painting their bodies, faces, and arranging the ornaments they were to wear. At this time the old men, the guardians of the snakes, began to put the snakes into bags of cotton and buckskin, and as they were filled they were carried to the 'Estufa of the Rabbit Gens.' We were here notified that we had better go out and get seats, as the dance would soon begin. We took a station on the second story of a house beyond the sacred rock. Against a wall run- ning at right angles to the one on which we were seated was a lodge of cottonwood covered with a buffalo hide, called the snake bosky. Captain Bourke's account of the dance is complete and exact, and is identical with my account as to facts.
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"There were no fires, sacred or otherwise, or even smoke in any of the estufas during our visit, nor any evidence that there had recently been any fire. We had exceptional facilities for seeing the dance, and there were few if any visitors besides Captain Bourke, our two men, Mr. Keam and Mr. Steven, and myself. I am also of the opinion that none of our party, resi- dent or otherwise, had ever seen the snake dance before, and that probably we were the first white men who ever visited the estufas during the Moqui (Walpi) snake dance. The Moquis were not greatly pleased, but the presence of Captain Bourke with the two soldiers and the ambu- lance with 'U. S.' on it were potent. Captain Bourke, if he was not in fact, always appeared to be exactly the best friend of each and every Indian whom he had met; at least he seemed to convince the Indian that it was so, and so we were made welcome. Without Captain Bourke we never would have been permitted to enter the sacred estufa. Under his lead we went down the ladders and stayed. Of course we could not speak to the Indians, as not one Indian of the entire Moqui pueblos could speak English, and the only attempt made was by one man at Tewa, who could say 'one dollar.'
"On the morning of the dance, the snakes, more than a hundred in number, were kept close to the sides or walls of the estufa by the old men with the bahoos. I tried to buy a bahoo of one of these attendants, but he declined to sell it, saying that if he did his stomach would burst open. I am convinced that the snakes were not
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doctored, neither was their poison exhausted by letting them strike a board or other object.
"During the dance, between 4 and 5 p. m., a rattlesnake struck one of the dancers on the right ear and held on. The antelope man be- came frightened and ran away. The dancer, becoming angry, grabbed the snake, which was a large one, tore it from his ear and threw it on the ground, but the bitten ear did not swell. The snake, thus released, coiled and struck at a Navajo, who was standing near the edge of the mesa, which so frightened the man that he drew back and ran off, and the snake bounded back of the sacred rock and got among some Indian women, who were mortally afraid and ran away in fright; then he escaped. If the snake had been doctored, and was not venomous, they would not have been afraid of it.
"I also observed in the dance that as each snake dancer passed around the sacred rock he threw the snake from his mouth by a quick jerk of his head to the right into the space in front of the bosky, where the antelope men took charge of it. Then he took a fresh snake from the bosky and danced around again, and so on." (It will be noted that in the account by Mr. Scott in 1891, the snake dancers kept the snakes they first received and danced with them until the end. In 1891 there was no change of snakes by the dancers at each round.)
In "Some Strange Corners of Our Country," 1892, Charles F. Lummis gives the following ac- count of the snake dance of 1891, at which he was present :
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"The Pueblos often protect in their houses an esteemed and harmless serpent, about five or six feet long, as a mouse trap, and these quiet mousers keep down the little pests much more effectively than a cat, for they can follow shee- id-deh to the ultimate corner of his hole. But while all snakes are to be treated well, the Pueblo holds the rattlesnake actually sacred. It is, except the pichucúate (a real asp), the only venomous reptile in the southwest, and the only one dignified by a place among the 'Trues.' The ch'-ah-rah-rah-deh (the Tee-wahn name is imitative) resembles the rattling. The Moquis call the rattlesnake chú-ah. It is not really worshipped by the Pueblos, but they believe it one of the sacred animals which are useful to the Trues, and ascribe to it wonderful powers. Up to a generation ago it played in the marvel- lous and difficult superstitions of this people a much more important part than it does now, and every Pueblo town used to maintain a huge rattlesnake, which was kept in a sacred room, and with great solemnity fed once a year. My own Pueblo of Isleta used to support a sacred rattler in the volcanic caves of the Cerro del Aira (hill of the wind), but it escaped five years ago, and the patient search of the officials failed to recover it. Very truthful old men here have told me that it was nearly as large around as my body, and I can believe it with just a little allowance, for I have seen one here as large as the thickest part of my leg.
"There are many gruesome stories of human sacrifices to these snakes, the commonest being that a baby was chosen by lot from the pueblo
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once a year to be fed to ch'-ah-rah-ráh-deh; but this is, of course, a foolish fable. There are no traces that the Pueblos ever practiced human sacrifice in any shape, even in prehistoric times, and the very grandfather of all the rattlesnakes could no more swallow the smallest baby than he could fly.
"For sixteen days beforehand the profes- sional 'snake men' have been in solemn prepa- ration for the great event, sitting in their sacred rooms (estufas), which are carved in the solid rock. For many days before the dance (as before nearly all such ceremonies with the Pueblos) no food must pass their lips, and they can drink only a bitter tea, called màh-que-be, made from a secret herb, which gives them security against snake poison. They also rub their bodies with prepared herbs. Six days before the date of the dance the snake men go down the mesa into the plain and hunt eastward for rattlesnakes. Upon finding one the hunter tickles the angry reptile with the 'snake whip' (bahoo), a sacred bunch of eagle feathers, until it tries to run. Then he snatches it up and puts
it into a bag. On the next day the hunt is to the north; the third day to the west; the fourth day to the south, which is, you must know, the only possible order in which a Pueblo dares to box the compass. To start first south or north would be a dreadful impiety in his eyes. The captured snakes are then kept in the kibva (sacred room called estufa in the other pueblos), where they crawl about in dangerous freedom among the solemn deliberators. The night be- fore the dance the snakes are all cleansed with
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great solemnity at an altar which the snake cap- tain has made of colored sands drawn in a strange design.
"The place where the dance is held is a small open court, with the three story houses crowd- ing it on the west and the brink of the cliff bounding it on the east. Several sacred rooms hollowed from the rock, with tall ladders lead- ing into them, are along this court. At the south end of the court stands the sacred dance rock, a natural pillar about fourteen feet high, left by water wearing upon the rock floor of the mesa's top. Midway from this to the north end of the court has been constructed the keé-si, or sacred booth of cottonwood branches, its open- ing closed by a curtain. Just in front of this a shallow cavity has been dug and then covered with a strong and ancient plank, with a hole in one side. This covered cavity represents Shi- pa-pú, the great Black Lake of Tears, a name so sacred that few Indians will speak it aloud, whence, according to the common belief of all southwestern Indians, the human race first came.
"On the day of the dance the captain of the snake men places all the snakes in a large buck- skin bag and deposits this in the booth (snake kibva). All the other active participants are still in their room, going through their mysteri- ous preparations. Just before sunset is the in- variable time for the dance.
"Long before the hour the housetops and the edges of the court are lined with an expectant throng of spectators: the earnest Moquis, a goodly representation of the Navajos, whose
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reservation lies just east, and a few white men. At about 5:30 in the afternoon the twenty men of the antelope order emerge from their own special room in single file, march thrice around the court, and go through certain sacred cere- monies in front of the booth. Here their cap- tain sprinkles them with a consecrated fluid from the tip of an eagle feather. For a few moments they dance and shake their guajes (ceremonial rattles made of gourds) in front of the booth, and then they are ranged beside it, with their backs against the walls of the houses; among them are the youngsters that day ad- mitted to the order, in which they will thence- forward receive life-long training, dimpled tots of from 4 to 7 years old, who look extremely cunning in their strange regimentals.
"Now all is ready, and in a moment a buzz in the crowd announces the coming of the seven- teen priests of the snake order through the roofed alley just south of the dance rock. These seventeen enter the court in single file at a rapid gait, and make the circuit of the court four times, stamping hard with right foot upon the sacred plank that covers Shi-pa-pu as they pass in front of the booth. This is to let the Cachina (spirits or divinities) know that the dancers are now presenting their prayers.
"When the captain of the snake order reaches the booth on the fourth circuit the procession halts. The captain kneels in front of the booth, thrusts his right arm behind the curtain, unties the sack, and in a moment draws out a big, squirming rattlesnake. This he holds in his mouth with his teeth about six inches back of
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the ugly triangular head, and then he rises erect. The captain of the antelope order steps forward and puts his left arm around the snake captain's neck, while with the snake whip in his right hand he 'smooths' the writhing reptile. The two start forward in the peculiar hippety-hop, hop, hippety-hop of all the Pueblo dances; the next snake priest draws forth a snake from the booth, and is joined by the next antelope man as partner, and so on, until each of the snake men is dancing with a deadly snake in his mouth and an antelope man accompanying him.
"The dancers hop in pairs thus from the booth to the dance rock, thence north, and circle toward the booth again. When they reach a certain point, which completes about three- quarters of the circle, each snake man gives his head a sharp snap to the left and thereby throws his snake to the rock floor of the court, inside the ring of dancers, and dances on to the booth again to extract a fresh snake and make another round.
"There are three more antelope men than snake men, and these three have no partners in the dance, but are intrusted with the duty of gathering up the snakes thus set free and put- ting them back into the booth. The snakes sometimes run to the crowd, a ticklish affair for those jammed upon the very brink of the preci- pice. In case they run, the three official gather- ers snatch them up without ado; but if they coil and show fight these antelope men tickle them with the snake whips until they uncoil and try to glide away, and then seize them with the rapidity of lightning. Frequently these gath-
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erers have five or six snakes in their hands at once. The reptiles are as deadly as ever; not one has had its fangs extracted. * * *
"At last all rush together at the foot of the dance rock and throw all their snakes into a horrid heap of threatening heads and buzzing tails. I have seen that hillock of rattlesnakes a foot high and four feet across. For a moment the dancers leap about the writhing pile, while the sacred corn meal is sprinkled. Then they thrust each an arm into that squirming mass, grasp a number of snakes, and go running at top speed to the four points of the compass. Reaching the bottom of the great mesa, (Hualpi, where the chief snake dance is held, is 660 feet above the plain), they release the unharmed serpents.
"These astounding rites last from half an hour to an hour, and end only when the hot sun has fallen behind the bald western desert. Then the dancers go to their sacred purification with the secret herb, and the awed on-lookers scatter to their quaint homes, rejoicing at the successful conclusion of the most important of all the public ceremonials of Moqui. It is be- lieved by the Húpi (Moquis) that the rattle- snake was one of their first ancestors, the son of the Moqui Adam and Eve, and they have a very long and complicated folk story about it. The snake dance is, therefore, among other superstitious aims, designed to please their divinities."
Special Agent Scott's report on the snake dance of August 21st, 1891, which is also con-
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tained in the Eleventh Census of the United States, 1893, follows :
"The 'snake deity' is the 'water god' of the Moquis. With them the snake lives in the earth and under the water, and glides over either with equal ease. He is mysterious to them, and from his likeness to the lightning in the heavens they associate him with that phe- nomenon, and, not being able to separate or de- fine the objective from the subjective, the two are to them identical. To the Moquis' mind lightning is the snake's tail striking the clouds, and thunder the report of the blow; rain is the effect, so the conclusion is natural that they should believe in him as being the most potent intermediator of all animal life that they could have between themselves and their principal deity.
"Irrigation or rain is what the Moqui coun- try most needs. There is water, but it is so scarce and so difficult to obtain that the Moquis are obliged to go long distances for it, and so it becomes almost a luxury.
"The snake dance of the Moqui Indians is to propitiate the water god or snake deity, whose name is Ba-ho-la-con-gua, and to invoke his aid in securing more water, that their fields may be made productive. It is a novel exhibition of religious zeal and remarkable for its quick changes. Its chorus chants are weird incanta- tions, thrilling and exciting both spectators and celebrants.
"The religious ceremonies prior to the public exhibitions of the dance occupy eight days ; they are held in the snake keva, or estufa, and are
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of a secret nature, although a few white men have been permitted to witness them. The dance is the closing scene of these long secret invocations, and its performance occupies but a short time, not more than thirty-five to forty minutes.
"The day preceding the snake dance the ante- lope order holds a dance, in which the snake order participates (the snakes are left out). The antelope order, which ranks next to that of the snake order, assists in the snake dance. The day before these singular final ceremonies the men of the antelope order prepare many little prayer sticks called ba-hoos (the ba-hoo is a small stick, to which, at one end, is attached one or more small light feathers, and symbo- lizes a prayer), which they give to the men of the snake order, who, on the morning of their dance, go out from the pueblo and distribute them at all the springs. When these prayer sticks have been placed at the different springs or holes the men race back to the keva at Walpi, on the mesa where the snake dance is to be held. The principal race is from Weepo (onion springs), at the north of Walpi, some four miles, down through the desert to the south end of the mesa, then up the difficult trails into the pueblo. It is a most exciting scene, and in this running great endurance is exhibited, for the men have fasted for four days previous, partak- ing of nothing but a decoction prepared by the chief or priestess of the order as an antidote for the rattlesnake bite in case any may be bit- ten during the ceremonies. This antidote is known only to the chief priest and the priestess
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and the secret is only imparted to their succes- sors when they are obliged by age and infirmity to relinquish the functions of their office. The snake dance, which is the conclusion of the eight days' ceremony before mentioned, takes place at Walpi every two years, in the middle of August, late in the afternoon. The day is appointed by the chief priest. This year (1891), the dance occurred on August 21, about 5 o'clock p. m., and lasted only thirty-five min- utes. The men of the snake order, of course, were in the estufa in training for the four days before the dance.
"For the ceremonies of the snake dance the pueblo is thoroughly cleaned, and quantities of melons, peaches, and other eatables are placed about in ollas and dishes. Piki, or corn bread of many colors, is plentiful, and the evidences of a feast are on every hand. These people, although poor, remain hospitable; not having mixed much with white people, they have not as yet become selfish and unduly mercenary, and all visitors are welcome to eat. The number of visitors increases yearly, however, and pretty soon the hospitality of the Moquis will be put to full test.
"On the afternoon of the dance, and long before the appearance of the actors, the Indians gathered on the housetops of the pueblo of Walpi, which overlook the court, and sacred rock, all gaily dressed in bright colored blan- kets, ribbons and feathers. Some young Indians climbed to the top of the sacred rock, with the aid of a lariat, from which a better view could
VII-13
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be had. Two or three cowboys, with strong Saxon faces, and other visitors from the settle- ments and large cities in the east were there, conspicuous by their modest attire and small numbers. The Indians gather from all the other pueblos of the Moqui group and a few from Acoma, Laguna and Zuni. Altogether there must have been five hundred people pres- ent, including, of course, the Navajos and whites, and General A. McD. McCook, com- manding the district of Arizona, and staff ; also Dr. Washington Matthews, the eminent ethnolo- gist, and Special Agent John Donaldson.
"There was a murmur of expectancy, when all looked toward the southern part of the in- closure and saw emerging through the narrow street the men of the antelope order dressed in short white cotton kilts, or skirts, with flowing sashes of the same material, all embroidered with curious designs in red, yellow, and green, the hair, worn loose, flowing down the back, with tufts of feathers, selected from the eagle's breast, tied at the top of their heads, from which tufts, falling down over their raven hair, were two tail feathers of the eagle; earrings, brace- lets, and strings of beads, worn according to fancy, and heavily fringed moccasins and ank- lets completed the costume, while their faces were grotesquely painted in white, yellow, green, and black, resembling much their wooden gods in the disposition of the colors. The general arrangement was picturesque.
"There were seventeen men of the antelope order who assisted those of the snake order in their dance. The snake order numbered thirty-
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seven, a majority of whom were young men, a few were quite old, and three were boys recently initiated, the youngest not more than five years of age. The antelope order was headed by an important looking personage dressed differently from the rest. He was the principal priest of his order, and in addition to the white cotton ceremonial kilt and girdle, feathers, fringed moccasins, and beads, he wore a coil of blue yarn over the right shoulder down to the left hip, a garland of cottonwood branches in leaf around his head and a similar one about the loins, and anklets and armlets of the same. He carried a bowl of sacred water in his left hand; in his right hand he held three eagle feathers, which he used in sprinkling the water over the space about the sacred rock where the dancers were to hold their unusual ceremony; he paid par- ticular attention to the bosky where the snakes had been placed. A man of the antelope order brought the snakes from the snake estufa in a gunny sack and placed them in the bosky (bosque) about fifteen minutes before the dance began; they were sprinkled with sacred meal by the priest before leaving the estufa. The snakes had been in the estufa for three or four days. The Indians catch the snakes by going into the desert, beginning about a week before the dance, in parties of two, who carry a bag of leather or cloth; one of the men carries a bag of sacred meal and one of them a bahoo. The rattlesnake and other snakes crawl into the chill- dill-ghizze bush, known as the 'hiding bush,' by the Navajos.
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"One man sprinkled meal on the snake, the other attracted its attention by tickling it with the bahoo, while the first grabbed it by the neck and dropped it into the bag. The men some- times catch the snakes while moving, but they believe that they must first sprinkle the snakes with meal. The catching party on its return to the pueblo puts the snakes in the estufa to wait for the day of the dance.
"Some twenty or thirty feet from the sacred rock, north, and a little in front of the houses, the snake bosky is built. It is a low, stone in- closure, covered with long cottonwood boughs, standing upright, shaped like a Sibley tent, say eight feet, and fastened together where the branches begin, leaving the branches free, with
a cotton cloth about it. The antelope men came in single file, passing along the edge of the mesa, turning to the left and back in front of the snake bosky, then around the sacred rock, continuing to follow the ellipse they had described until they had passed the bosky several times, mov- ing in a quickstep. They halted in front of the bosky and faced toward it; their priest ad- vanced, made an invocation, and threw sacred meal in over the bag containing the snakes. He had the meal on a large black plaque of straw. It was a 'gate open' plaque. The men then sang a low chant that was like the moaning of the wind before a storm; all the time an accompani- ment of rattles, with which the men were pro- vided, was kept up, producing a pattering sound like that of falling rain. This peculiar, muffled sound was obtained by using the rattles, which
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are made of cottonwood, round and flat, instead of the gourd, which is pear-shaped.
"At the conclusion of the chant the snake order made its appearance from the estufa, like their brothers of the antelope order, in single file, preceded by a stalwart leader, who carried a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. His hair and that of his followers fell loosely down the back, the front being banged just above the eyes. This leader also carried a buzz, or stick, attached to a string, which he would twirl through the air, making a noise like distant thunder. On
the tops of their heads the men wore tufts of brown feathers. Their kilts were buckskin, dyed a brownish color, streaked with designs in black and white, and resembling a snake. Their moc- casins were brown, and the general tone of their entire decorations was brown, which made all the more distinct the zigzag lines of white on their arms and bodies, which represented light- ning. The forehead and lower legs were painted a pinkish color, their chins white, their upper lips and faces from the bottom of the nose to the ears black, and each wore a bandolier, or leather strap, over the right shoulder and down over the left hip. Attached at intervals to the lower part of this armament were numerous brown clay balls, tied to a band just above the calf of the leg; each one wore a rattle made of a turtle shell and sheep toes. As they came upon the scene, beyond the sacred rock, the antelope order faced about. The snake order made the circuit of the open space between the houses and the east side of the mesa three times before halting,
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