A Navajo Indian Fire Dance

A NAVAJO INDIAN FIRE DANCE By Lucy G. Bloomfield Only once in a long time is this great dance or celebration of the Navajos staged. For one reason it takes about $500 to finance it, and then, too, it is only held in the late autumn months when there is the least possible danger of an electric storm. The lightning at this time is to the Navajo the voice of the great Spirit in reproof of the motives for the fire dance. To begin with there must be a patient. The curing of some ailment real or imaginary is the first factor in the proceeding. I will tell you of the one I was privileged to attend, it being the best and largest that was ever known to be held in this part of the reservation. I have since attented others but they were not half so excellent or large. There has only been four of the fire dances held in this section of the reservation in the last twelve years since we came to live in Navajo land. In Navajo land, as well as in most places, "Money makes the mare go." The first I heard of the dance was a petition for fin- ancial assistance. I contributed $5 which pleased the big medicine men very much and straightway I received an invitation to attend. I find on inquiry that the last night of the nine is the best. There are nine nights of the celebration, and verily they have worked themselves up to great frenzy by the last night. The poor patient is about "all in," and spends the time she is not on show, in sleeping. This particular fire dance was held in order to drive from the body of a young married girl the Chinde or devil with which she was possessed. The bear and coyote are to the Navajo, reincarnated bad Navajos who are punished by being born in a bear or coyote body. They have a strange belief that they then have the power to possess any person with a devil if they do not like them. Well this unlucky girl was on the trail through the woods to visit her sister, one day, when she met a big brown bear in the trail. It rose on it's hind legs and would not move, so, of course, the maiden did the moving. She was quite certain that it raised it's front paw and pronounced a curse upon her and her unborn child. Yanapah and her relatives were very much worried for fear the baby would never arrive safely and, to tell the truth, when it did arrive it was a frail mite and the mother did not gain strength as she should. Cause a-plenty for the fire dance. To drive from the mother and babe the Chinde with which the bear had possessed them. So, a council was held in a deep canyon and the date for ceremony decided on.

906 IMPROVEMENT ERA Copyright by William Pennington, 13 59 Oak Grove Ave., Los Angeles, Calif. "A Council was held in a deep canyon" The last and great ninth night happened to be on the 31st of October. Incidentally Halloween night, and very fitting for the strange and weird scenes we were to witness e're another sun arose. Into a lumber wagon, seventeen strong, we piled, like sardines in a can, only set on end, and away, we jolted just at dusk to witness the performance. Three grown, white people and seven children in all. The balance of our crowd was Navajo neighbors. The coyotes howl at us as we pass, jolting along. After a few miles of jolting we are not all on end but rather settled. Our dear little Navajo nurse girl has settled quite appropriately into the arms of her dark eyed lover. The country teacher has gathered some of her younger flock under her wing and they are dozing contentedly. To please my dark friends, I made an Indian squaw costume; black velvet shirt, with a blue-flowered calico skirt with eighteen widths in it. The more widths the more stylish the skirt. I bor- rowed from our trading store the pawns of our Indian customers. Strapped around my waist I had a large silver belt. Bracelets and strings of beads completed the trim. Of course, my hair I did into a wad, low on my neck, and tied it with twisted yarn. A big, fringed "Pendelton" shawl completed the layout. Baby Ruth (one year old) had to go along because there was no one home to leave her with. So I made a "Papoose" or rather 'Away" out of her and

A NAVAJO INDIAN FIRE DANCE 907 Copyright by William Pennington, 1359 Oak Grove Ave., Los Angeles, Calif A Navajo Indian Hogan strapped her on my back all of which pleased my dusky friends very much. In fact I felt like quite a side show, the way they gathered around to approve, comment and criticise me. One old friend says, "That's my belt," and another, "Give me my beads I want to look pretty, too." The final verdict was that I was their friend or I would not dress like them. But I am getting ahead of our journey. As the road makes a turn around a hill we catch sight of hundreds of small camp fires around which are moving figures — Navajos, just waiting for the per- formance to start. As we near the place we are met by a guide who shows us where to stop our wagon. Out we pile, and then commence to "see things." The first we see is an immense corral made of cedar and juniper boughs and trees. It is built in a circle about as large as four city blocks with entrance, or gate, always to the east. The walls of the corral are about ten feet high and very densely made, so it cannot be seen through. In the center of the corral is an immense "wood pile." The wood is trimmed up trees, all set on end and slightly sloping toward the center. The pile is solid and about forty feet in diameter. Mostly composed of pitch pine. Soon after our arrival the fires were lighted. Around the in- side of the corral there are fifteen small fires and the audience is seated, or rather squatted, around much like an amphitheatre. The night is

-08 IMPROVEMENT ERA -******* ^-3 1' M • '.,.. «,■ firv^ I'^g^'fl j pu. «^sS ^ sw 9 jMBjif .,;.. 1 " v WL 3 ■■sH ^ - ft .'' ' ^B ■ • '^SK?.'^ alt ■ B^ J"'«3» BP^^^^^^^^^jBBBBr ^ •.--. ■ -, --..- .- ;'- .. '--v.' ■BMBI bBSHB 8:""** ^S Copyright by William Pennington, 13 59 Oak Grove Ave., Los Angeles, Calif A Scene in New Mexico. A Council in the Desert very chilly and the small fires feel comfortable until the big fire gets to going. There are more than fifteen hundred Navajos in attendance. At a signal from the Chief, or Natana, every one ceases talking; and, while the fire is getting under way, the Natana gives his big talk. It is almost unbelievable but every word of the Chief can be heard plainly all over the corral. Every one is so quiet. He is a grand old man and is dearly beloved by every one, both red and white. He exhorted all present to put faith in the power of the medicine men that they may be able to cure the sick maiden. He then gave them a rousing good sermon, on the kind of lives they all should lead, telling them to be industrious, build up their herds, take good care of their children, and teach them to be honest and industrious. He exhorted the weavers to make better blankets, so they will get more for their rugs. He told them to set a good example of honesty and truthfulness before their children, so the tribe would grow better and stronger. In fact, he delivered an excellent sermon in Navajo. By this time the small children are all sleepy, so they are tucked to bed in the wagons. We are shown to a good place on the side of the fire, where the smoke will not blind us, and are given sheep skins to sit on. We find we are favored by being very close to the patient and the eight medicine men.

A NAVAJO INDIAN FIRE DANCE 909 By this time the fire is simply roaring, and the whole corral is so warm one thinks of Dante's Inferno. The quiet still maintains, and, aside frpm the roar of the fire, not a sound is heard, till, hark! from somewhere in the distance we hear the long low whistle of an- nouncement. As it grows louder and nearer we hear a low rumble or chant. Then all of a sudden the dancers are before us. Twenty-four of them, and a dazzling sight they are. As they enter the gates of the corral, they give a mighty war-whoop. It might not have been a war-whoop but was surely a mighty whoop, enough to curdle one's blood. The performance is on, and is more than pen can describe. Twenty-four tall young braves with their hair flying in the wind, their naked brown bodies painted in gortesque figures, with white clay, and each decked with a girdle of bright colored ribbons fastened to various kinds of skins are there, all have fox tails tied behind which switch and wave in a very wierd manner. Every one is a little different, since the fancies of each led all to deck themselves. The old fashioned "gee-string" was of. course indispensable. From the belt or girdle were hanging many bright ornaments. Some fastened small looking glasses or mirrors to their bright belts which sparkled most beautifully in the fire light. The first performance was a dance in a running line around the fire. Counted the bravest and the strongest, is the one who can get the closest to the fire, and touch the flames with his feathered wand, or arrow. The bravest this time almost paid for the honor with his hair which caught on fire and great was the snatching and patting till it was extinguished. Unlike most all other dances of the Navajos, the fire dance is not monotonous. The performance changes about every hour all night. My memory will not serve me well enough to attempt to describe all the changes, so I will tell of those which impressed me most. After the twenty-four had danced and sung till it seemed they must drop from exhaustion, they danced out of the gate into the dark- ness, and in a few minutes a new performance was staged. During the interval between performances the eight medicine men took up the chant and with inverted baskets on top ot which they held a notched stick, they made a peculiar rumbling noise by rubbing up and down on the notches all the time singing the chant. The patient was then led out in full view of the audience and seated on a spread robe. The medicine men gave her a very strange treatment. Two of them work in unison over her while the others continue to chant. With eagle feathers they touch her head then point the feathers at a certain star in the sky and give a loud whoop. This is repeated by touching her arms, back, stomach and legs, and finally ending with her toes and a mighty whoop, all of which is to frighten the Chinde from her body. They believed that the real

910 IMPROVEMENT ERA Copyright by William Pennington, 13 59 Oak Grove Ave., Los Angeles, Calif. A Shepherdess and Her Flock, New Mexico Chinde is in the mother and that the babe is only affected by drinking the mother's milk and that as soon as the mother is all right the babe will be also, which is perhaps quite a true philosophy after all. The girl is again led back to her sheep skin and is asleep in a wink. The twenty-four dancers then return this time dancing in pairs, and singing a different chant. Around one o'clock a halt is called and every one feasted on corn bread, flourcakes fried in grease, boiled beef, and coffee with sugar. After the remains of the feast is cleared away, the dance com- mences again. Some of the changes are very graceful and pretty, while others are fearful and make one think of barbarism. One of the changes I remember distinctly was of a young lad, around twelve years of age, and a very tall brave. They danced literally covered with ribbons, beads, feathers, and shining trinkets. They had on caps of orange, and dyed angora wool still on the hide. The caps were fashioned with horns on each side and looked very hideous. In their hands they carried a sort of framework made of criss-crossed willows and from every cross was hanging feathers and bright ribbons. One in each hand they would hold the wands high above their heads and dance and bow to each other very gracefully, all the while keeping time to the chant of the eight medicine men.

A NAVAJO INDIAN FIRE DANCE 911 As the fire burned low, it was replenished from time to time, and the fifteen small fires were kept going for warmth. Save for the occasional cry of a tired baby, the silence prevailed. Only one lady, or squaw, is permitted to take part in a fire dance. She took part in one of the changes that can best be described as a Virginia reel or old fashioned square dance, or quadrille. I talked to the Navajo maiden, for whom the dance was held, whose name is Yanapah Hushclish Eyazzie, and asked her if she was pretty -tired and she said, "Oh yes! awfully tired, but I am going to get well now, and that will pay for all the loss of sleep and the expense, and my husband and father and mother will be glad, and I can raise my baby." The performance ceases only with the rising of the sun when all wend their way home, or hogan-ward, tired and sleepy, but well paid for all the effort of going. I connot conclude my narrative without adding the fact that either through their great faith, or Mother Nature's help, the maiden gained strength, and in the course of a few weeks was well and happy, and her baby is as fat as only a Navajo papoose can become. And that is almost round. Toadlena, New Mexico A Tryst Loftily the sun, in a hazy sky Sinks in the West, and the day's gone by; Rich and red are the beams that rest On the mossy hillside's craggy crest; And I in this wooded glade A tryst with my God have made. Where else in life could I find A rest for my tired mind, Save in the solace sweet Of this tryst with my God that I keep, Where are my friends of yesteryear, Kinsfolk, and souls- to my own soul dear? Gone, as the showers on an April day, Refreshing for an hour, then passed away. But the friendship of God is ever the same, And daily, yes, hourly, I breathe his name; For though I may live so sinfully, It cannot be said, I live thanklessly. Where are my friends of yesteryear, Friends that my own heart held so dear? Gone with the jollying crowd that throngs, New faces seeking, new games and new songs, Few indeed are the ones who care To sojourn long on the quiet paths where I trek with my God oft alone. Belleisle, N B. Canada. ALAN C. REIDPATH.