Desert Medicine

... Desert Medicine... A STORY WITH PICTURES BY J. H. McGIBBENY

Yellow-hair's daughter and her husband rode slowly up the steep hill to the trading post, dismounted, tied their horses to a scrawny stalk of rabbit brush and entered the store. In contrast to the leisurely fashion of most Navajos come to trade, they seemed anxious to make their purchases and to get started on the ride back home. This, in itself, excited our curiosity, for we knew the couple well and could normally expect a long, friendly visit when they came to the post. When they asked for a ceremonial basket of the type commonly called wedding baskets, we knew that something out of the ordinary was in the making and immediately began a discreet questioning of the pair. We asked about many things and, particularly, about the health of other members of the family. After a considerable period of verbal fencing, the girl suddenly announced, "After two days they will make sand paintings in my mother's hogan." Both she and her husband invited us to attend and we accepted.

Five weeks from the day that was "after two days" the ceremony was begun. John Wilson, the medicine man, had told us to be at the hogan when the sun was at a place in the sky indicating two o'clock in the afternoon.

That Yellow-hair's wife was very seriously ill was apparent to the most casual observer. Even the care of her young baby had been delegated to other women of the family. She had lost considerable weight, was extremely nervous and appeared to be in a state of despondency seldom seen among Navajos. We inquired as to the cause of the illness, but received only vague replies. The nearest approach to a real explanation was offered by a son-in-law, who said, "Maybe she was out with the sheep and the lightning struck the tree where she was standing."

Yellow-hair, himself a medicine man but not a sand painter, was put to work grinding the brilliantly colored rocks. He used a matate and manos such as are used in the grinding of corn, and the bright red, white and yellow rocks were reduced to the finest powder possible. He then ground charcoal, prepared from the wood of a juniper tree that had been struck by lightning, to a black powder. Part of this was mixed with finely ground white rock to produce a blue-gray powder.

John Wilson now began the painting of the first of the two sand paintings that were to be made during the three days of the ceremony.

Beginning at the western end of the patch of smoothed sand, John drew a black circle by the simple expedient of letting the black powder slip between his thumb and forefinger onto the sand, while his arm followed the arc of the circle. The circle, as nearly perfect as if drawn with a compass, was filled in to form a black disc and on this disc were painted diagonal lines, in appropriate colors, to indicate the four principal directions. Outside the disc and grouped to match the cardinal directions, John painted the symbolic forked lightning; each of these groups he bordered with the rainbow symbol. He explained that this was the home of the Horned Toad Yei. A yei is a minor Navajo god who serves as intermediary between the medicine man and the major gods.

With the assistance of an apprentice, learning to be a medicine man, John then began the painting of the Horned Toad Yei. Starting at the feet, which rested on the rainbow at the eastern side of the Horned Toad Yei's hogan, he rapidly painted the legs, body, elongated neck and rectangular head, all in brilliantly contrasted colors. In the right hand of the Yei he placed a bundle of forked lightning, in the left a bow and arrow. John now constructed the Red Ant's hogan to the east of the Yei's head. The Red Ant is very important in Navajo mythology and must be protected. "So," explained John, "when the lightning comes, the Horned Toad Yei takes his place on the hogan of the Red Ant and opens his mouth, and even though the lightning strikes all around, it cannot touch the Red Ant or his home."

The medicine man next moved to the south side and painted a black bear. Immediately beneath the bear he placed an unfinished or broken circle of white. Going around to the north side, he painted a white bear. Across the shoulders of each of the bears he slashed a band of contrasting color. "Why did you leave the circle unfinished," we asked? "The bears quit singing," replied John, indicating that they had been struck by lightning before finishing their song.

The painting was now complete. John took his post at the western end of the hogan and contemplated his work. No slightest deviation from the traditional pattern could be allowed to go uncorrected if the ceremony was to be successful. At last John expressed satisfaction. All was good. The sand painting, small but exquisite, was there as something of beauty to attract the attention of the most powerful spirits and to induce them to be present to assist in the healing of the sick woman.

That night they made the prayer and thought good thoughts: thoughts of plentiful rain, good grass, fat sheep and goats and horses, and of healthy, happy people. The next day all who were to participate in the ceremony took medicine to purify themselves. The sick woman began a fast that would last until the end of the rites.

John told us, "You come when the sun is there," pointing to indicate about nine o'clock. The following morning we were at the hogan in plenty of time. When we arrived the men were just bringing in a wagon-load of red desert sand, more than two of the wiry Navajo horses could pull without the help of several of the men tugging at the wheels. The hogan had been stripped of its usual furnishings and, except for a few sheepskins thrown against its juniper tree walls, was empty. The sand painting was to be a big one. Yellow-hair was busy grinding rock. A two-year-old, completely naked boy played near the door of the hogan. A woman and girl were present. They were to be permitted inside today.

John began the painting of the first of the four Yeis to be included in the painting. Today, however, he began with the body of the Yei, then painted the head, and last, the feet. Three assistants, under his direction, commenced a second Yei, parallel to and immediately north of the first. The accuracy of line and symmetry of the figures was astounding. John painted with unbelievable speed. The figures of the Yeis grew rapidly as John, leaving the finishing of details to the assistants, began painting a third Yei on the south side.of healthy, happy people . . . and after the ceremony John Wilson mounted a horse and headed across the flaming red desert for home.

(Continued from page four) At about one o'clock the women brought in a large pot of mutton stew and we all stopped for lunch. The stew, consisting of chunks of mutton and potatoes, had been cooked by the Navajo formula that when the potatoes are cooked the stew is done. We limited our lunch to potatoes, fried bread and coffee.

The sand painters were soon back at work; much more than completion of the sand painting must be accomplished before the setting of the sun. A woman, a member of the family, entered the hogan and requested permission to paint "just a little" in order that she might express her good wishes for the success of the ceremony as well as participate in its benefits. Permission was readily granted and the woman painted the body of one of the Yeis. We were accorded a similar opportunity and lost no time in responding to the invitation. Soon a fourth Yei at the north side was completed and John then painted the Rainbow man along three sides of the painting, south, west and north, with the feet and head at the southeast and northeast corners, respectively.

The medicine man now built a small evergreen bower at the western side of the painting, tying beads of turquoise and prayer feathers into the evergreen branches. Along the sides of the Rainbow Man he planted prayer sticks at regular intervals, and at the head of the Rainbow Man he placed two bowls of medicine to be given to the sick woman later. One bowl contained a mixture of water and corn pollen, the Navajo's essence of life, while the other contained water and herbs.

A couch was now prepared at the north or woman's side of the hogan and the medicine man went outside to escort the sick woman to her place. On entering the hogan she and the medicine man sprinkled the entire painting with finely ground corn meal. The woman then took her place on the couch and, at the direction of the medicine man, removed all clothing above her waist in preparation for the painting of her body. The naked two-year-old boy was taken to the side of his mother. Because he still nursed, he was considered part of her and must, therefore, participate in the ceremonies. Red, white and yellow paints were prepared by mixing clays of these colors with water. Turquoise was ground with water to form a beautiful blue paste. A leaf of a yucca plant, shredded at one end, served for a brush.

John Wilson took his place behind the woman and began the first of the chants that would be sung as he painted her body. As he deftly fashioned the mystic symbols on her naked back all the other Navajo men took up the chant, repeating the ancient words the required number of times. The atmosphere of the hogan became charged with a feeling of religious fervor. The chanting grew in intensity, with the medicine man frequently changing the theme. The woman's hair was unbound and carefully selected strands painted with the turquoise paint. Into these were tied beads of turquoise. A broad band of white soon covered her forehead and a black band concealed her eyes. To the rising crescendo of the chant the medicine man painted her body, her arms, her hands. The woman's moccasions were removed and the esoteric signs applied to her feet and lower legs. Now the baby was held by his mother while the medicine man duplicated his handiwork on the small body.

The medicine man signaled the end of the chanting and escorted the mother and baby onto the sand painting, seating them at its western side near the small evergreen bower. He fastened a feather-trimmed prayer stick in the woman's hair, placed strings of turquoise beads and a garland of evergreen twigs around her neck and wrist-lets of the same materials on her wrists. John selected certain of his medicines or charms from among an amazing collection of religious properties. Hold-ing them singly in outstretched arms, he approached the patient swiftly, uttering a shrill, bird-like call. Then, to the accompaniment of similar cries, interspersed with the fluty tones of a whistle, he placed the charm on the head of the sick woman, then, in succession, on her shoulders, her back, the region of her heart, her stomach, knees, ankles and the soles of her feet. The little boy was sub-jected to the same treatment, repeated many times, with a different medicine for each new application. Only thus could the sick woman be cured of her extreme nervousness and hysterical fear of lightning.

Yellow-hair built a small fire on a flat rock by twirling a fire-stick in shredded bark. He placed a small piece of lamb's wool on the fire, producing a quantity of smoke out of all proportion to the size of the blaze. The medicine man moved the fire to the side of the woman, who bathed her body and the body of her baby in the heavy smoke. Smoke is very effective in routing the spirits of illness.

The medicine man then fed the herb and corn pollen medicines to the patient and her baby.

The patient was now led out of the hogan in order that the sand painting might be destroyed. No woman may be present during this part of the ceremony. The medicine man obliterated the design of the painting, scraping up the sand with the polished bone of an animal. The sand was gathered into a blanket to be taken to the spot in the desert where it would be buried and the place that had been used for the painting was carefully covered with a blanket. The woman and baby were returned to the hogan and seated on the blanket.A ceremonial meal had been prepared in the wedding basket, a kind of cake consisting, principally, of finely ground corn meal and water, unbaked, and with symbolic designs traced on its surface. The medicine man scooped up a good sized portion with his fingers and fed the mother and baby. Leaving them to finish what remained in the basket, he retired to his appointed place at the extreme western wall of the hogan. The woman ate ravenously, her first food in thirty-six hours.

The baby was now turned loose to run and play, and the mother returned to her couch. She put on her blouse, exercising extreme care to prevent the rubbing off of any of the designs so carefully painted on her body by the medicine man. These would be allowed to wear away. For the first time since entering the hogan in the early afternoon she essayed a shy smile; this had been a profound religious experience and the occasion for sober, thoughtful attention to every minute detail of the ceremony.

That night was spent in singing the appropriate chants for the completion of the ceremony and at daybreak John Wilson mounted a horse and headed across the flaming red desert for home. The woman would get well. "And did the woman recover" you ask? The answer is a decided, "yes." We saw her a few months after the ceremony and the improvement in her condition was startling. She had gained weight, her nervous debility was gone. her inherent good spirits were very much in evidence and she had regained much of the optimism that is natural to the Navajo.

Desert medicine does work.