That made them happy as they wanted to wear the jewelry to the sing that Uncle was to give. Everybody being poor on account of the bad season, there were not so many yards of calico and velveteen bought as was usual in the time of a sing.
However, all were kept busy, planning and working for the great ceremony. It was to be held near Mother’s hogan, but far enough back so that no road passed it.
The medicine lodge was built and a roadway about thirty feet wide extended eastward three hundred feet. On this level ground the dances of the ninth night would be held.
The lodge was left alone for one day before Uncle arrived. He came in the evening, blessed the lodge inside, and started the ceremonies.
For four days everyone in the lodge was busy making sacred cigarettes and round rings of twigs with feathers attached. Uncle sang songs, the patient was given sweat baths out of doors, and something happened every minute. Younger Brother stayed close to Uncle, watching everything that was done and helping where he could.
On the fourth night about nine o’clock, Uncle’s assistant laid blankets on the ground, northwest of the fire. On top of the blankets they spread a buffalo robe. On top of that, many yards of new calico were laid, and on top of all, a fine white buckskin.
Then the twenty precious masks, which Uncle’s uncle had saved in the jars, were placed in two rows on the buckskin. They were face up, with their tops toward the fire. By the side of the masks, the assistants placed rattles, a basket of plumes, fox skins, and medicine bags.
The patient, Hasteen Sani, sprinkled pollen on the masks, while he prayed in a low voice. After that was done, everyone sat back in his place. There were about fifteen friends of Hasteen Sani in the medicine lodge. All were very quiet, sitting around the edge of the sacred lodge, with its fire in the middle, and Uncle sitting on the west.
Younger Brother was worshipful and intense. This was one of the most important moments in his life — sitting next to Uncle and the twenty buckskin masks.
While everyone waited expectantly in the firelight, a crier outside the medicine lodge called:
“Bike hatali haku — Come on the trail of song.”
Younger Brother saw the curtain at the doorway thrown aside and he saw a woman enter with two bowls in her hand. She was followed by many more women, all bearing old pottery bowls or modern dishes filled with food.
The women, dressed in brilliantly colored plush waists and full calico skirts, with their black, shining hair knotted at the back of their heads, walked in single file, slowly around the fire. They walked sunwise and the leader went as far as the door on its northern side. There were enough women to form a circle around the fire, leaving the eastern side open.
When the circle had been formed, the leader of the procession put one bowl of food down on the floor in the north. Then the last woman put her two bowls down in the south and then the leader placed her second dish by the side of the first one.
After these four dishes had been placed, the other women put theirs down in a circle around the fire, then they sat down with the rest of the company.
The food in the bowls was prepared after an ancient recipe. There was corn meal mush made without the usual cedar ashes, and there were bee-weed greens, and greens of another plant, and there was thin corn wafer bread.
The circle of dishes stood alone while the next part of the ceremony was held. This was most important because it honored the masks.
A girl and a boy, about ten years old, who had come in with the food bearers, now dipped wands of turkey plumes into the basket of sacred water and sprinkled the masks while Uncle and other medicine men sang.
Younger Brother watched every motion of the two children. He saw the litle boy pour water from a wicker jar into a gourd. He saw the little girl put four handfuls of corn meal into an earthen bowl. He watched the boy pour the water on the meal while the girl stirred it. Everyone kept very still. The masks were to be fed.
The boy put a little of the corn meal mush on the mouth of every mask and tasted some himself four times. The little girl also tasted and so did Hasteen Sani and Uncle, Younger Brother, and everyone else in the lodge.
It was a love feast, a communion, promising new life to the tribe. Younger Brother, who knew so well the legends of his people, felt the power and the peace that comes through fellowship with men and gods.
He liked to think how long the masks had lived in beauty in the cliff where the little Pack Rat had guarded them.
Younger Brother was happy and content as he listened to the songs, which lasted throughout the night.
CHAPTER XXX
THE SAND PAINTING OF THE WHIRLING LOGS
HE morning of the sixth day, the first sand painting was made. Uncle sat in his place on the west, directing twelve young men, who poured the colored sand. All day an old man ground sandstone on a metate, for the young men to use.
He ground red, yellow and white from rocks gathered from the cliffs of the Waterless Mountain. He ground charcoal for black and mixed black and white for blue.
The first painting that the young men made illustrated the story of the Whirling Logs. It was a most beautiful painting, with the two logs crossed and bearing on each arm two holy people. Corn plants of the four sacred colors spread from the center of the design. A rainbow of red and blue outlined with white surrounded the whole picture.
Uncle had told Younger Brother the story of this painting, many times in the past. It was about a young man who lived in the early days of the Navahos. He must have been very much like Younger Brother because he was always thinking of beautiful, strange things that no one else thought about. He had heard a story of the crossed logs, which whirled around on the surface of a bottomless lake.
He wanted to visit that lake, so he hollowed out a log for a boat. There were rock crystals for windows in the sides of the log. The opening was plugged with a cloud to keep out the water as the log floated down the river.
On the way down the river the young man had many adventures. He met all the water people, like the otter, the beaver, the fish, and the water coyote. He also met a big frog and thought he was the ugliest creature he had ever seen.
The fat frog sat on a bank smoking a pipe. He drew the smoke in through his mouth and sent it out through the warts that covered his body.
“What an ugly frog,” thought the young man. “How big are his eyes ! How rough is his skin ! How swollen is his throat ! How thin are his legs ! How strange he looks with the smoke coming out of his warts !”
The young man only thought these things. He did not speak them but the frog knew, by the disgusted look on his face, what he was thinking. The frog said, “Yes, I am ugly. All that you think is true.” Then he went on smoking and the warts puffed out the smoke and the big eyes bulged more than ever.
The traveler had many adventures on his way to the lake, When he reached there, he thought he had never seen so beautiful a place. The lake was sunk in a bowl of rocks. It was a deep, dark blue lake and the craggy rocks encircling it were all the colors of twilight. On the edge of the water, colored sand sparkled in the light, which seemed to shine from the rocks themselves.
Little streams of water ran down among the rocks. They were bordered with plants such as the young man had never seen. While he looked at the flowers and stooped to pick up the colored sand with its tiny pebbles of red and blue and green, he heard the sound of people singing.
The song came from the water. Looking out across the lake, he saw the cross of logs moving toward him. On every arm of the cross sat two holy people, and they sang, “He comes for my sake. From the east he looks at me. The rain brings pollen to the tassels.”
The singers were glad to see the young man and they asked him to ride around the lake with them. After that, two little children, a boy and a girl, ran on the colored sands to greet the singers as they landed. The boy carried a turquoise bowl partly filled with white corn meal. The girl had a white shell bowl of yellow corn meal.
Soon they wer
e busy gathering frost crystals from the plants. They mixed the frost with the meal and the holy people told the young man that when he returned to his people, he must teach them how to prepare the frost crystal medicine for fever.
They also taught him how to make the sand painting of the whirling logs and ever since that time, it has been the first painting made in the Night Chant.
In Uncle’s medicine lodge near the Waterless Mountain, Younger Brother helped the young men draw with the colored sands on the floor. They commenced in the center of the design, working on their knees, and smoothing the foundation sand with a stick, as they moved outward. The completed design was to be fifteen feet in diameter.
It would have the crossed logs in black, with two Yays sitting on the end of each arm of the cross. Other Yays would stand at the four quarters to guide the logs. The corn plants were to branch out from the center.
Working with the soft colors and seeing the clouds and plants take form as he poured the sand, Younger Brother thought there was no fun in the world equal to this.
It was hard work, too, leaning over the drawing for hours, and once he showed a little weariness. Uncle’s eagle eyes detected the fact and he said quite severely:
“He who creates beauty never tires.”
When the painting was finished and surrounded by the blue and red arch of the protecting rainbow goddess, everyone felt happy and hungry.
The mothers brought kettles of steaming mutton stew into the lodge and the workers relaxed and ate with relish. Everyone dipped his fingers into the big pot to draw out his piece of meat. During the dinner hour, the men all talked and laughed and had a good time, before the ceremony of healing commenced.
For three days, paintings were made, songs were sung, and there was no time to grow lazy. The old masks were repainted and dressed with spruce collars. They were all ready for the dancers to wear on the ninth night.
Every now and then a clattering wagon, drawn by horses with their winter coats on, would stop, and camps would be made on both sides of the roadway leading east from the lodge, The brightly-colored blankets hooding the smiling faces of the women, the happy children packed in the back of the wagon with hay for the horses, and sheepskins and pots and pans for the camp, added to the excitement of the festival.
From far and near, bands of horsemen rode through the crisp winter air. Sometimes a couple of young men would leave the group and race wildly down a canyon to the cry of “Yego, yego” from the other riders.
The people rode past Standing Rock, rising like a towering island from a sea of sagebrush. They passed the hole in the mountain made by the mighty Children of the Sun when they shot their bolts of lightning.
Hundreds came, on horseback and in wagons, and in old Fords that hardly ever hit on all four cylinders. Temporary corrals were made for a few sheep that were brought along for the feast. Everyone used the water from the tank and there was enough for all.
Wagons, saddles, blankets and people made a barricade on each side of the dancing space which led from the lodge to a green bough room where the performers were to dress.
Everything was in readiness for the all-night dance of the Yays.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE DANCE OF THE YAYS
HE NIGHT was cold and frosty, and the little campfires were most welcome. Particularly welcome was the hot coffee and tea kept ready all the time for anyone that wished it.
In the silence of the chilly night, everyone waited for the Yays to leave the green bough shelter. Finally they appeared, preceded by Uncle, who wore a handsome red blanket, with a mountain lion skin draped over his shoulders.
The white-masked god followed him. Uncle walked slowly, uttering a benediction and scattering corn meal on the ground before the four masked dancers as they moved quietly forward, shaking their gourd rattles.
They sang so softly as they moved toward the west that the audience could hardly hear them. Stealthily they entered the dance ground between the little fires, while Hasteen Sani, the patient, appeared from the lodge.
He was wearing a splendid blanket of red and orange and green. In his hands he carried a basket of meal to be blessed by Uncle, while the dancers moved their feet in continuous rhythm.
While all the thousand spectators sat silently watching, and the thin smoke of the cedar fires rose toward the stars, Uncle spoke softly, line by line, the ancient prayer of his people.
You who dwell in the House of Dawn
And evening twilight,
You who dwell in the House of Cloud
And darkening mist;
The house of rain
Strong as man;
The house of rain
Soft as woman;
You who dwell in the House of Pollen
And of grasshoppers,
Whose door is made of the dark mist,
Whose trail is the rainbow,
Where zigzag lightning
Stands high above,
Where virile rain
Stands high above,
You who dwell there, come to us.
Absolute silence hovered over the thousand Navahos gathered to hear the holy words of their fathers. The dancers kept up the hypnotic rhythm of their feet and swaying heads, through out the long prayer that ended with a plea for the happiness of the tribe.
Hasteen Sani, standing solemnly in the firelight, spoke the last words:
In beauty I walk.
With beauty before me,
Behind me, above me
And all around.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
When the prayer was finished, the four Yays started their dance for growing things. One dancer represented corn, one was vegetation, one was soft grain, and the fourth was pollen.
It was a song of growing things and the Yays bent to the ground, singing:
The corn comes up,
The rain descends.
All night the little fires were kept burning. At regular intervals, different groups of masked singers entered the dance ground to sing and dance in the ancient custom of their people.
When dawn came with its bluebird song, everyone stirred himself to listen. The Navaho voices, in weird, falsetto tones, greeted the morning with the words:
He sings in gladness,
Bluebird sings in gladness,
As daylight comes,
As morning comes.
After the song of dawn, all the Indians packed their goods in covered wagons, Fords and saddle bags and started for home, remembering in their hearts the words of Uncle:
May they all reach home in peace.
Younger Brother had enjoyed the whole ceremony and had been so impressed with the idea of growing things that he decided to plant a garden when the right time came. He went to the trading post to tell the Big Man about it.
“Grandfather, I need some seeds.”
“What kind of seeds do you need ?”
“The kind the Yays sang about in the farming songs.”
“Tell me what they sang, child. What were the songs about ?”
“They were about that young man who floated down the river to the lake. He had a pet turkey.”
“What did the turkey do ?”
“The turkey followed the young man and when they came to a good place for a farm, the young man sang the first farm song. He sang, I wish I had some seed.
“The turkey listened to that song and then he gobbled and shook white corn seed out of his wings. Then he shook all the colored corn seeds, and beans, and muskmelon seeds, and then he shook out tobacco seeds. He was a good pet.”
“He sounds like a good pet,” said the Big Man. “What else did he do ?”
“He was a very good pet,” repeated Younger Brother. “When night came and the young man lay down on the ground to sleep, he was cold. He spoke to the turkey roosting in the cedar tree above him. He said, ’My pet, I am cold.
’
“Soon after, he fell asleep and while he slept, the turkey jumped down from the tree and covered the young man with his right wing. He slept soundly all night and when he awoke in the morning, the turkey wing was over him and he was all warm.”
Younger Brother continued, “I wish I had a pet like that, but I have none, so I ask you for beans and muskmelon seeds, and watermelon seeds. I would like the kind that grows big and fast.”
The Big Man smiled and said:
“I will send for them and when they come, you must plant them in the right season.”
“I will do it, Grandfather. That will be when the Planting Stars are two fingers above the western horizon, when the sun has set.”
CHAPTER XXXII
THE SONG IN THEIR HEARTS
GAIN the month of Short Corn powdered the fields with tender green. The rainbows danced among the clouds and the voice of the thunder was heard in the land. The Planting Stars in the western sky had given notice to the People of the Earth that the soil was ready to nurse the little seeds.
Uncle said, “The Planting Stars bury themselves below the edge of the earth and not until the harvest month do they come again in the eastern sky.”
Younger Brother felt the need of digging in the soil. Ever since the Yays sang the farming songs of the Night Chant, he had been thinking of growing things.
He had a fine piece of ground all ready for the seeds, which the Big Man had ordered. It was not a very large piece of ground because it had to be fenced to keep out the sheep. That was the hardest part of the job—the digging of the post holes.
He decided to make his garden just like the one in the story where the pet turkey furnished the seeds, so he cut two planting sticks, one of greasewood and one of another shrub.
When the seeds came to the Big Man, he drove out to watch Younger Brother plant them. The boy was very busy with the colored corn he had obtained from Uncle.
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