Navajo Warp and Woof

ALAHANI! HA DE SHA? called La-ba-he, the Navajo weaver in the greeting of The People, as I motored up to her chao (sha-ah-ho) a summer shelter of green boughs built beside her winter hogan.

"I have been driving through Canyon de chelly, (pronounced de shay)," I answered her question through my interpreter, Ruth Naldes, a graduate of the Albuquerque Indian School. "I have come to see how my blanket is progressing. You see I have accepted your invitation to visit you in your home."

Fortunately La-ba-he and I were well acquainted, which was a great aid in conversing with this shy retiring Indian woman. I had asked her to weave me a blanket. My blanket on which she was working hung in the frame beside her chao, so Ruth and I sat down on a pile of soft Navajo blankets near by. "I know the Navajo blanket is made by hand from start to finish," I said, "I want to tell the white people something of its manufacture. Since you are one of the best weavers I have come to you for help. Will you kindly explain to me step by step just how you weave a blanket." (The Navajo never speak of their work as rugs.) La-ba-he replied "You pretend you are a young girl, knowing nothing about blankets or their weaving and I will teach you." Feeling the years slip away I agreed to pretend.

"The first step is to have sheep. These the Navajo woman always has, as the flocks belong to her. She has the care of them. It is her work to watch over them. She must drive them to pasture every day and corral them at night. No matter how cold or hot the day she must be out in the weather with her flocks. When sand storms blow and lightning and thunder crash through the trees she must be true to her trust. When feed gets scarce in one pasture she will drive the sheep, often over rough and rocky paths to another place. In the spring she must care for the little lambs and drive the coyotes away. They also like spring lamb. Twice a year her flocks are driven to the Government sheep dip and put through the flume of ill-smelling disinfectant. Some of them die there, but the loss is not so great as if the flocks became diseased. Do you think you see how important the sheep are? With us Navajo women the sheep always come first.

"In the spring we shear our sheep. Its four feet must be tied together while it is being sheared. The way the wool is taken from the sheep has much to do with nice smooth yarn. The wool from the back is sheared first and laid to one side to be used in weaving, the rest is put in a sack for the trader. The best wool comes from the native Navajo sheep. The stock imported by the Government has longer, silkier fleece, but it catches all the trash and dirt and is harder to spin and weave. I use shears bought from the trader, but my grandmother told me she pulled the wool from the sheep, or cut it off with a knife, a rather painful process for the sheep." "I then toss the wool in the air to get rid of the sand and dirt. The burrs and pine needles I pick out by hand. Then I wash the wool. For this I pound yucca roots to a lather, add hot water and douse the wool up and down in the suds until clean then hang it on the bushes to dry."

La-ba-he then got up to attend to the mutton ribs grilling over the open fire and to shove to one side the kettle of blue and white "squaw corn" which was boiling over, sputtering and scattering ashes all over her meat. On her way back she picked up two objects not unlike old-fashioned curry combs with wire bristles. She continued, "A small piece of wool is rolled back and forth between these cards until it is a long, loose roll. Here the black and white are mixed to make the grey, used in the background of the blanket."

The Indian welcomes the "black sheep" in her flocks for, from its fleece is made the most striking designs. White, black and brown are the colors "dyed in the wool" by Mother Nature though the black is made more shimmering and brilliant by being dipped in a brew of sumac leaves combined with a mixture of yellow ochre melted in piñon gum. When carded the rolls are laid to one side awaiting the spinning.

"My grandmother spun with a spinning wheel but I do not see yours anywhere."

"No," La-ba-he replied, "We Navajos have a spinner all our own. The wheel your grandmother used would be too clumsy to carry on horse back from one feeding ground to another. The spinning is the most tedious part of weaving and it is done mostly in our summer camps."

In my travels over the reservation I have often seen one or two children, with a complete weaving outfit, cards, warp frame and spinner, besides balls and skeins of yarn, all loaded on one small Indian pony following flocks along forest trails.

"Here is our spinner," La-ba-he took up a smooth oak stick about twenty inches long thrust through a thin disk of hard wood about five or six inches in diameter. This was fastened to the distaff about six inches from its lower end. Then bracing it on the ground she gave the spindle a brisk whirl, at the same time drawing out the yarn and twisting it as the stick spun. Then she spun the stick in the opposite direction wrapping the yarn around just above the disk. This maneuver went forward until the spindle was full. Then the yarn was removed and wound into a loose ball. Her brisk fingers demonstrated the spinning as she talked, "This first spinning must be taken off and spun again. I repeat this as many as five times for a very fine blanket. When I have my yarn all spun I wash it again as it will take the dye better if all the oil is removed from the wool.

"Most of the dyes now used are purchased from the traders. In the old days such was not the case. My grandmother told me that in her time the blankets were different from those woven now. Those used for beds were soft and white and more loosely woven than the hard ones of the present. For dyes they used leaves and bark. A pale yellow was made by steeping peach leaves, and a brighter yellow from the rabbit brush. The first traders sold indigo so having blue and yellow some one made a bright green from the combination of these colors. Some of the traders do not keep good dyes and our colors do not last as did those made with vegetable dyes."

Soft and white and more loosely woven than the hard ones of the present. For dyes they used leaves and bark. A pale yellow was made by steeping peach leaves, and a brighter yellow from the rabbit brush. The first traders sold indigo so having blue and yellow some one made a bright green from the combination of these colors. Some of the traders do not keep good dyes and our colors do not last as did those made with vegetable dyes. The Navajo's wealth is sheep and jewelry. Sheep are tended by the children, moved from winter to summer grazing grounds.

I then place two poles just the right distance apart; or as in this case I found two small trees handy and my husband lashed to them horizontal beams a little farther apart than the length of your blanket. At the top a movable pole is held to the upper timber by a rope attached so the pole may be raised and lowered. The warp frame is fastened at the top to this pole, the lower end to the bottom log, thus the warp is drawn taut as you see. The two outerwoven." La-ba-he illustrated the explanation, then said, "With my design in mind I grasp a ball of yarn the desired color and slowly work it along by hand." (They use no shuttle.) When my design demands a change of color I drop this ball, after making a hitch so the work will not ravel and select another ball. A blanket with many changes of color, like this one, has its face literally festooned with balls woven" La-ba-he illustrated the explanation so it will not draw at the edges. Then pound it in hard with a stick called a batten, that it may be firm and solid."

"I have been informed the Navajos learned weaving from the Pueblos. Is that your opinion?" I asked. "No," she said, "Tradition informs us welearned weaving from the Spider Woman. For a long time a spider hole was left in every blanket. The traders objected to this imperfection so now we run a black or grey thread from the blanket out through the border. The evil spirits or devils can follow this and escape without tangling the threads and driving us crazy."

La-ba-he arose, stretching her weary arms and rubbing her cramped knees, for she had been sitting before her loom a long time. She walked into her hogan and Ruth and I followed. She took down a pan, put into it some flour, lard, salt and baking powder, mixing it with goat's milk to a soft biscuit dough. This she put into a Dutch oven, carried it outside and placed it on the coals and soon we had nice fluffy biscuits. We each took a whiteenameled plate and cup from the box nailed to the hogan wall, served ourselves with grilled mutton ribs, hot biscuits, boiled corn and our cups were filled with goat's milk, of which Ruth was very fond. We sat on boxes about the room and ate our frugal meal. After dinner I looked about the hogan. I observed it was six sided with a door in the east, as is the Navajo custom. It was constructed of logs drawn in at the top to form the roof in the center, in which was the smoke hole. The logs were notched at the corners in such a manner that it could be built without nails to join the timbers. The chinks were filled with mud. Strings of corn, peppers and hanks of bright colored yarns hung from pegs driven between the logs. Hosteen Nez' saddle sticks of the warp frame are then removed to make the weaving easier." She continued, "A stick wrapped with yarn is called a heald. Twine is wound around this Taking every other thread of the warp so that when the heald is drawn forward it brings one half of the warp threads with it and opens the warp so that the woof can more readily be "Yes," I quickly replied, "I bought a large blanket from a store and the red ran into the white the first time it was cleaned. It was a total loss. I understand the trader at Chin-lee is paying a bonus for blankets made with native dyes and old style of weaving." La-ba-he simply nodded her head and continued weaving. The design was fast appearing under her nimble fingers. I gazed in admiration, saying "Will you ever make a duplicate of my blanket?" She shook her head.

Wondering I asked, "Are the designs all different in the thousands of blankets on the market?"

"Yes. There are as many designs as there are blankets. No Navajo ever repeats a design as a taboo forbids such a thing."

"How do you construct the frame on which you weave?" I queried, gazing at the elaborate structure.

"For the warp frame I take four slender sticks, lash them together at the corners with cords. The frame is then laid on the ground and the warp wound on it from the top to the bottom with the threads crossing in the middle.

The clipping of the wool is done by the Navajo women. The art of the weaver is taught to the young girls in the family as soon as they are large enough to handle the tools of the weaver's trade.

I asked La-ba-he if she could make me a true ceremonial blanket with a copy of the second sand painting of the Mountain chant the most beautiful of all.

"No, Ashton Natani, I cannot do that nor can I talk about it at this time," she replied fearfully. I asked Ruth why she was afraid to talk about it. Ruth informed me there is a belief among the uneducated Navajo that in the summer when lightnings and snakes are about the great stories of the gods must not be mentioned for fear the snakes might hear and be offended.

"Thank you, La-ba-he, I have learned there Carding of the wool is patiently done by hand. Great care and pains are taken by the weaver in each of the steps of preparing wool for the blanket.

also hung there, covered by his bright colored saddle blanket. There was little furniture. It must be limited to such as can be readily car-ried on a horse when the family moves from one pasture land to another.Dinner finished, we returned to the weaving. La-ba-he, like all native artists, does not draw a pattern for her work. She pictures in symbols the mountains, the storms with lightning flashes, the whirlwinds and growing corn. There are three blankets of ceremonial type which the Navajo women have no scruples against weaving. In the first, designs such as corn, snakes and arrows are used; the second is the "One God" design. One of the masked gods from some healing ceremony is represented; the third is the "dancer rug," which is a line of figures attired in the costumes worn by the Yeibachai dancers. These are unusual rugs, but they are not of sacred origin. There is no taboo against the weaver who wishes to make one.

Spinning consumes many long hours in the life of the Navajo rug weaver.

There are four essential steps to take in weaving a blanket. The first to choose good wool from the backs of Navajo sheep; second, washing, carding and spinning it well; third, using good dyes; fourth, beating the wool in firmly and evenly so the warp will not show. The price of a blanket depends on the fineness of weave, type or design, uncurled corners, and evenness of weave."

The westward going sun cast long shadows among the trees. The sheep were coming down the wash in a cloud of dust, and La-ba-he went to let down the bars so her little shepherds, her boy and girl, might drive them into the corrals.

Wool is dyed to secure the colored designs for the Navajo rug. In the olden days dyes were secured from plants and brush, but now mostly come from the trader's store.