University of Virginia Library

AN APACHE MEDICINE DANCE FRANK RUSSELL

There are at present no men or women among the Jicarillas who have power to heal the sick and perform other miracles that entitle them to rank as medicine men or women—at least none who are in active "practice and are at all popular. This being the case, medicine feasts have not been held for several years on the reservation; but in August and September, 1898, two such feasts were conducted by Sotlin, an old Apache woman who now resides at the Pueblo of San Ildefonso. Sotlin made the journey of nearly a hundred miles to the Jicarillas on a burro. She was delayed for some time on the way by the high waters of Chama creek, so that rumors of her arrival were repeatedly spread for some weeks before she actually appeared. For festive dances the agent or his representative, the clerk at Dulce, issues extra rations of beef and flour, and the Indiana buy all the supplies their scanty means will permit from the traders. Supplies, at least of things edible, do not keep well in an Indian camp, and the successive postponements of date threatened to terminate in a "feast" without provision, when at length Sotlin arrived.

The preliminary arrangements were made by Satl+, the husband of the invalid, Kes-nos'-ûn-dä, in whose behalf the ceremonies were to be performed. Satl+ presented Sotlin with a pipe of ancient pattern, a short cylinder of clay known as na'-tos-tsä-klo-tes-a-hi; with a few eagle feathers, i-tsai'-i-ta; with beads, yu'-o; and a new basket, kelt'-tsai-i.

As the Jicarilla Apaches live in scattered tipis and cabins about the reservation, there is no appointed place, such, for example, as the plaza of a pueblo tribe, where religious ceremonies are performed. Sotlin chose a spot in La Jara Cañon, Kai-i-ligon-a-hi, where Satl+ and his friends built a medicine lodge, i-zé-bi-gon, and an inclosure, na-intl-dje, of pine brush. The lodge was begun on the morning of August 23, and with the "fence" around it was completed before midday. The builders were served with food by the women of Satl's family.

Toward noon on the 22d of August, which was considered

the first day, gos-til'-kl%ebreve;, of the ceremonies, a number of the older men gathered in the medicine lodge. So far as I have been able to ascertain, they were not the members of a particular society or order; according to Gunsi, these men were selected by Sotlin because of their ability in outlining the dry paintings which they made in the lodge under her direction. No one but Apaches are admitted to the medicine lodge, so that I have depended upon the account of it given by Gunsi, in this description. The ground was cleared at the back of the lodge— that is, between the camp fire and the western wall—over a space about six feet in diameter and covered with a layer of clean gray sand. The sand painting the first day contained the figures of snakes only, having their heads directed toward the west, with the exception of the sun symbol, which was drawn each day during the ceremony around a shallow hole six or eight inches in diameter in the center of the painting. The sun was represented by a ring of white sand around the margin of the hole; next came a circle of black, and then a ring of red with white rays. After the painting had been completed, the invalid, Kes-nos-un-dä, in an ordinary gown not especially prepared for the occasion, entered the inclosure, laid aside her blanket, and passed into the lodge, on the floor of which four "bear tracks" had been made leading to the dry painting. I have not as yet obtained a satisfactory explanation of the purpose of the bear tracks, the answer to inquiries being "because she had the snake and bear disease." The patient stepped upon the footprints in going to the sand painting, on which she spread pollen, kat-ûn-tin, from the cattail flag, k'i-etl-mi-la-ka-hon'-a-i, and sacred meal,          and then sat down upon the painting, facing the east. Songs were sung and prayers were offered to the sun, after which the women brought food from the camps into the inclosure. Those within the lodge seated themselves next the wall and were served by the doorkeeper,         , who began at the left and carried food to each in turn, and after delivering it retraced his steps around the periphery of the lodge. When all were provided for, the doorkeeper, who, it seems, had no official designation, gathered a fragment of food from each person, threw them outside the inclosure as a sacrifice to the sun, to which a prayer was offered, and then returned to eat with the others inside the lodge. Kes-nos-un-dä also ate with the men who had remained inside the lodge; all others gathered to dine within the inclosure. All food remaining was carried away and carefully preserved for the next meal. The vessels in which the food was carried were brought back into the inclosure by the men and removed later by the women.

When darkness fell in the evening the men again painted snakes in the medicine lodge, where a fire had been built. A young pine tree was placed at the right and another at the left of the painted space, and on these were scattered soft eagle feathers, which were also set up along the rear margin of the painting. The children were then expelled from the inclosure, Kes-nos-un-dä entered as in the morning, and, after offering pollen and meal, again seated herself upon the painting. Then a terrifying figure rushed into the semi-darkness of the lodge, lunged toward Kes-nos-un-dä, but seemed unable to reach her, gave forth two or three cries similar to those uttered by the bear, and then made its exit. Gunsi admitted that he was frightened himself, although he knew it was only one of the men (who he would not say), who had been painted black with charcoal and covered with pine branches. He wore no mask. The invalid was suffering from the "snake and bear disease," cac-ko-ûnkl-ni, so that the homeopathic principle was followed in the treatment. The sand painting on which prayer-meal and pollen were offered represented snakes, go-i', and the bear, cac, was called upon to frighten the disease away. While the "bear" was in the lodge the men, engaged previously in singing, yelled at the top of their voices. After the departure of the bear another song was sung, during which Kes-nos-un-dä fell "shaking" to the ground. An eagle feather was waved rapidly to and fro above her head as she continued to rise and fall, to shake and cry out. "I thought she was dying," said Gunsi. Sotlin placed a live coal in a dish of blue corn meal and allowed the patient to inhale the smoke. This quieted her somewhat, for she sat upright, but staring "just like drunk," as Gunsi expressed it. Sotlin then handed her the medicine pipe filled with "Mexican" tobacco. After smoking this Kes-nos-un-dä recovered her senses. Two or three songs concluded the serious portion of the day's ceremonies. Kes-nos-un-dä moved to the north side of the lodge and remained there throughout the evening. An old buffalo hide was spread upon the dry painting, and

the sacred basket which had been given to Sotlin was inverted on the hide over the hole in the center of the painted space, then the hide was doubled over the basket, and the margin held down by the feet of the men sitting around it. The basket was made of white —, kin-gans-ti, ornamented with four conventionalized butterflies in red. Kes-nos-un-dä removed her moccasins, which were tied in a tight bundle and used as a drumstick in striking four strokes as a signal for the whole encampment to gather in the inclosure for the dance. Two notched sticks were placed upon the basket drum, a black one on the east and a white one on the west side. The sticks were laid so that one end was resting upon the drum and the other on the ground. A tarsal bone of a deer was rubbed across the notches, at the sound of which the young women began to dance. The women occupied the southern portion of the inclosure and the men ranged themselves along the wall opposite them. The na-intl-dje was brilliantly lighted by a circle of fires around the inside of the wall. The woman's dance was ended by the repetition of the same signal with which it had been begun-four strokes upon the drum. When the drum was again sounded those who were afflicted with ailments of any kind placed their hands upon the affected part and made a gesture of casting off the disease. Then the sticks were scraped again and the women chose partners from the men and boys and all danced together. This was the lighter aspect of the ceremonies; serious thoughts, the desire to propitiate the gods, and the awe inspired by the priestess and the deity represented by the "bear," all gave way to a light-hearted, merry-making spirit, which by no means exhausted itself before the sound of the drum ceased, about midnight, and the voice of one of the old men within the lodge was heard directing the assembly to disperse.

The ceremonies of the second day resembled those of the first, except that the figures outlined upon the sand were of bears, foxes, and other animals, with here and there a snake. Kes-nos-un-dä was not brought into a trance condition, nor was the general ceremony performed of casting off disease.

The third day differed only in the character of the sand painting. The animals represented were for the most part different

from those of the preceding day. Sotlin forbade the representation of the horse or elk at any time.

On the fourth day, kai-hi-kai-e, the figures of two deities were drawn in the dry painting, together with all kinds of animals. A black circle around the outside of the painting symbolized the ocean. The program for the evening was varied by the introduction of two groups of men, who were painted and dressed in the manner prescribed for these rites in the traditions of the Jicarillas. One party of six men, called tcanc-jin-ni, served as clowns. Their bodies and limbs were painted with white and black horizontal rings. Ragged fragments of old blanket served as loin-cloths. On their necks and shoulders appeared necklaces and festoons of bread, which had been baked in small fantastic forms for the purpose. Four wore old buffalo-skin caps, with the skin sewed to represent horns, which projected laterally backward and downward; to one horn was attached an eagle feather, to the other a turkey feather. Two of the men dressed their hair in the form of horns ("their caps were worn out"). The other group, tson-un-da-tin, was composed of twelve men, who were painted white with oblique black stripes extending downward from the inner corners of their eyes. They wore shell necklaces, and an eagle feather was in each man's hair. Bands of pine brush were around their waists, arms, and ankle.

As during the preceding evenings, the women began the dance; then followed the general dance, in which they selected their partners from among the men, after which the Tcanc-jin-ni and Tson-un-da-tin made their appearance. They entered the inclosure and marched directly to the medicine lodge, around which four circuits were made in a sunwise direction. The twelve then took up their position on the south side of the pathway from the gate to the lodge. The clowns ran about among the crowd. The two men at the left of the line of Tson-un-da-tin led in the singing, and also during their exit, which was back through the medicine lodge. The Tcanc-jin-ni created much amusement by their antics and gestures, which were frequently of a coarse and indecent character. They appeared four times during the night. The dance continued until sunrise. As the disc of the sun rose above the mountain tops every man, woman, and child present joined in the dance. The ceremony again partook of a serious nature, and as the sun's rays, already clear

and bright in that rare and arid atmosphere, lit up the valley, the whole band marched in line out of the inclosure toward the sun. Sotlin led the way, carrying the two young pines from the ends of the dry painting and the sacred basket containing meal. Each person marched past the old medicine woman, took a pinch of meal from the basket and cast it upon the trees. The line was reformed, facing the na-intl-dje one of the older men then stepped forward and shook his blanket four times; at this all shook their blankets—presumably free from the last trace of disease—and ran into the inclosure. The ceremonies were ended; every tipi in that vicinity must be moved at once. Kes-nos-un-dä was cured, but Sotlin warned her not to sleep on a rope or string or the disease would return. No one should sing the medicine songs for some time or a bear would kill the offender. Severe illness would overtake any one of the twelve Tson-un-da-tin who should so far forget himself as to sleep with his head toward any clay vessel. Sotlin accepted food only as remuneration for her services. As her terms had been made known at the beginning of the rites, a considerable quantity of provision had been laid aside for her. The only article of food tabooed during the four-day period was bread baked in the ashes. Since the Jicarillas seldom practice this antiquated method of baking, the prohibition necessitated no restraint of appetite.

I did not see Kes-nos-un-dä after the feast, but when I left the reservation, three weeks later, the Indians of whom I made inquiries all insisted that she was then in perfect health.