THE^INTER fiATlOMl! CONGRESS Of»ANTHO= POLOGY.^ |S3!!!!t!!!!l:^ I'l' '■ iiilli LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE )M^^. "^m^ MEMOIRS OF THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. U' EDITED BY C. STANILAND WAKE, ON BEHALF OF THE PUBLICATION COMMITTEE. CHICAGO: THE SCHULTE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 1S94 Q:hl3 COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY THE SCHULTE PUBLISHING COMPANY. gyb/ Things, hut (Men. THE WORLD'S CONGRESS AUXILIARY OF THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION OF 1893. President, CHARLES C. BONNEY. yice- President, Treasurer, THOMAS B. BRYAN. LYMAN J. GAGE. Secretaries, BENJ. BUTTERWORTH. CLARENCE E. YOUNG. Not ^Matter, but zMind. The Woman's Branch of the Auxiliary. President, Vice-President, MRS. POTTER PALMER. MRS. CHAS. HENROTIN. (▼) THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY, CHICAGO, August 2S to September 2, 1893. LOCAL COMMITTEE OF ORGANIZATION. F. W. PUTNAM, Chairman. C. STANILAND WAKE, Secretary. EDWARD E. AVER, H. W. BECKWITH, JAMES W. ELLSWORTH, FREDERICK STARR, STEPHEN D. PEET. EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE. Vresident, DANIEL G. BRINTON, Secretary, FRANZ BOAS. W. H. HOLMES, Representative of American Association for Adv. of Science. W. W. NEWELL, Representative of American Folk-Lore Society. OTIS T. MASON, Representative of Anthropological Society of Washington. ALICE C. FLETCHER, Representative of the Women's Anthropological Society. LOUIS A. LaGARDE, Representative of United States Army Medical Museum. And the Presidents and Secretaries of the Sections of the Congress. PUBLICATION COMMITTEE. DANIEL G. BRINTON. Chairman. FRANZ BOAS, C. STANILAND WAKE, Secretaries. W. H. HOLMES, F. W. PUTNAM. (vi) PREFACE. THE International Congress of Anthropology formed one of the series of Congresses held at Chicago, in the year 1893, under the auspices of the World's Congress Auxiliary of the World's Columbian Exposition. To give it a fully representative character, however, it was thought advisable to enlist in the work of the Con- gress the co-operation of the leading scientific societies of the United States, interested in the study of Anthropology. With this object, in addition to the local Committee of Organization, an Executive Committee was appointed, the members of which represented, not only the Congress Auxiliary, but also the American Association for the Advancement of Science, the American Folk-lore Society, the Anthropological Society of Washington, the Women's Anthropological Society, and the United States Army Medical Museum. The first meeting of the Congress of Anthropology, under the presidency of Dr. Daniel G. Brinton, was held August 28th, 1893, at the Memorial Art Institute, Chicago, after addresses of welcome had been made by the Honorable Charles C. Bonney, the President of the Congress Auxiliary, and others. The subsequent meetings of the Congress, which continued until September 2nd, 1893, were held on the grounds of the World's Columbian Exposition, so as to be within reach of the Anthropological and Ethnological collections in the Anthropological Building, under the charge of Professor F. W. Putnam, Chief of the Department of Ethnology, and of the illustrations of American Ethnology in the Government Building, besides the num- erous detached collections of objects which afforded so abundant a supply of material for Anthropological study at the Exposition. In this connection should be mentioned the Midway Plaisance, where were gathered representatives of most of the Oriental peoples, inclu- (vii) Vlll PREFACE. sive of natives from several of the Pacific Islands, as well as of various European nationalities. The papers brought before the Congress were classified under the heads of Physical Anthropology, Archaeology, Ethnology, Folk- lore, Religions and Linguistics. In addition to the papers read, and to the Introductory Address by the President, Dr. Daniel G. Brinton, addresses were given by Dr. Franz Boas, Professor Henry H. Donald- son and Professor Joseph Jastrow, on the Anthropological Labora- tories of the Department of Ethnology; by Mr. Stewart Culin, Cap- tain J. A. Bourke, United States Army, and Mr. Frank Hamilton Gushing, on the Collection of Games in the Anthropological Building; by Professor F. W. Putnam, on North American Archaeology; by Professor Otis T. Mason, on North American Ethnology; by Mr. Frank Hamilton Gushing, on " A Zuni Dramatic Ceremonial," and on " The GlitT-Dwellers;" by Mrs. M. French-Sheldon, on " Customs among Nations of East Africa;" and by Dr. Ulrich Jahn, on the Ethnological Collection in the German Village on the Midway Plai- sance. In addition to those here published, the following papers were read before the Congress: Trepanning in Ancient Peru. By Manuel A. Muniz. The Mexican Calendar System. By Mrs. Zelia Nuttall. A Peculiar Observance of the Quichua Indians of Peru. By G. A. DORSEY. The Walpi Flute Observance: A Study of Tusuyan Ceremonial. By L. Walter Fewkes. Notes on the Phonology of the Kootenay Indian Language. By A. F. Chamberlain. Study of the Paquina Language of Central America. By Raoul de la Grasserie. The paper by Mrs. Zelia Nuttall, on "The Mexican Calendar System/' is about to be published in an extended form by the Pea- body Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., accompanied by the elaborate tables showing the reconstruction of the Calendar with which it was illustrated. PREFACE. IX An arrangement has been made with Mr. Frank Hamilton Gush- ing whereby the Bureau of American Ethnology, Washington, D. C, will undertake the publication in its forthcoming Annual Report of a Memoir by himself and Mr. Stewart Culin, on Divination and Games. This Memoir will consist of the addresses presented before the Gon- gress by Messrs. Gushing and Gulin on the series of games exhibited in the Anthropological Building, greatly extended, and will be illus- trated with both text cuts and colored plates. As the Reports of the Bureau of American Ethnology are widely distributed among Ethnol- ogists, it is probable that a copy of the volume containing this Memoir will reach nearly every subscriber to these Proceedings. Any subscriber who does not receive it , however, and any registered mem- ber of the Gongress will be able to obtain a copy on application to the Bureau. It is also probable that the other addresses presented before the Gongress by Mr. Gushing, on the Dramatic Geremonial of the Zuni, and on the Gliff-Dwellers and their place in Pueblo History and Gul- ture, will be published later by the same office, and may likewise be made available to members of the Gongress. The study of the Paquina Language by M. Raoul de la Grasserie has already appeared in France as a separate publication. ' The following pamphlets were presented by the authors to be laid before the Gongress: Pkof. Adolf Bastian. (i) "Die Verbleibs-Orte der abgeschiedenen Seele. Ein Vortrag in erweiterter Umarbeitung." (2) " Der Buddhismus als religions-philosophisches System." Le Baron de Baye. (i) "Souvenir de Congres internationaled' Anthro- pologie et d' Archeologie prehistorique." Moscou, 1892. (2) " Le Congres Internationale d' Anthropologie et d' Archeologie prehistorique" de Moscou en 1892. General J. G. R. FORLONG. "The Two Stages in Buddha's Teaching." PREFACE. Dr. g. Kleinschmidt Dr. G. W. Leitner. M. F. Gaillard. "Inventaire avec Cartes des Monuments megali- thiques du Morbihan." [Revue des Sciences Naturelles de 1' Quest.] Mr. J. Park Harrison. "On a Glass Necklace from Arica in tlie Pitt- Rivers Museum at Oxford." Prof. Alois Raimund Hein. " Msander, Kreuze, Hakenkreuze und urmotivische Wirbelornamente in Amerika." " Zwei Lemnische Inschriften." (1) "The Kelam-I-Pir and Esoteric Muhammadan- ism." (2) " A Secret Religion in the Hindukush [the Pamir region] and in the Lebanon." (3) " Anthropological Observations on the Dards and Kafirs in Dr. Leitner's Service" (with Portraits). (1) "Stone Circles of Britain." (2) " On the Connection between Stone Circles and Adjacent Hills." " L' Anthropologie aux Etats Unis." Mr. a. L. Lewis. Dr Paul Topinard. REGISTERED MEMBERS. Dr. C. Abel, Wiesbaden, Germany. Mr. Louis Abel, 406 South Morgan Street, Chicago, 111. Miss Mary Newbury Adams, Dubuque, Iowa. Dr. Cyrus Adler, Smithsonian Institution, Washington. Mr. Harry Alschuler, 763 Lincoln Avenue, Chicago, 111. Mr. Chas. F. Artes, Evansville, Ind. Mr. William H. Atkinson, Elkhart, Ind. Dr. Frank Baker, 5414 Jackson Avenue, Washington, U. C. Mr. and Mrs. Ballentyne. Mr. John C. Ballard, Sparta, Michigan. Mr. David Prescott Barrows, Claremont, L. A. Co., California. Lieut. Fletcher D. Bassett, 5208 Kimbark Avenue, Chicago. Mrs. Elizabeth Burns Battle, 319 Monroe Street, Chicago. Mr. Carl Baumann, Bartlett, 111. Miss Helen Bell, Chicago. Dr. Robert Bell, Ottawa, Ont. Mr. F. Berchtold, Corvallis, Oregon. Mr. George Blake, Harvey, 111. Dr. Blidan, South Palestine. Dr. Franz Boas, 6636 Stewart Avenue, Englewood, III. Mrs. Franz Boas, 6636 Stewart Avenue, Englewood, III. Miss Marie Boas, 6636 Stewart Avenue, Englewood, 111. Capt. John G. Bourke, U. S. A., Chicago. Mr. Emanuel R. Boyer, 645 Sixty-second Street, Englewood. Chicago. Mr. James E. Brady, Brushton, N. Y. M. Braverman, Visalia, California. Dr. Daniel Garrison Brinton, Media, Pennsylvania Mr. G. O. Brohough. Mr. C. H. Bronson, Chicago, III. Mrs. C H. Bronson, Chicago, 111. Mr. John Brown, Buffalo, N. Y. Mrs. W. Wallace Brown, Calais, Maine. Dr. Gustav Bruhl, N. W. Cor. John and H( pkins Streets, Cincinnati, O. Mr. Avel G. Burman, Cadillac, Mich. Mr. Daniel E. Calahane, 5637 La Salle Street, Chicago. Mr. Walter L. Caldwell, Senatobia, Miss. Mrs. Helen Campbell, Madison, Wis. Mr. Heli Chatelain, 118 East Forty-fifth Street, New York. Mr. W. D. Cherry, Morgan Park, 111. Sister Clementine, St. Martins, Ohio. Mr. Carlos Carleton Closson, Jr., Cambridge, Mass. (xi) Xll REGISTERED MEMBERS. Mr. Richard T. Colburn. Elizabeth, N. J. Mrs. Clara Combs, Medora, 111. Mr. John H. Copeland, San Antonio, Texas. Mr. E. H. Crane, Miles, Mich. Mrs. Stewart Culin, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. Prof. Edward Cuinmings, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. Mr. Edward Cummings, Cambridge, Mass. Mr. Frank Hamilton Cushing, Bureau of American Ethnology, Wash- ington, D. C Mr. Robert E. Cutler, 45 Baxter Street, Chicago, 111. Dr. Wm. Healey Dall, Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D C. Dr. David J. Day, Washington, D. C. James Deans, Victoria, B. C Mr. Chris P. Dittmer, Pekin, 111. Prof. H. H. Donaldson, University of Chicago, Chicago. Mr. J. F. O'Donnell, 608 Unity Building, Chicago. Mr. George Amos Dorsey, Cambridge, Mass. Mr. Thomas Dowling, Jr., Washington, D. C Mr. Henry M. Echlin, Evanston, 111. Prof. Charles L. Edwards, Austin, Texas. Mrs. S. Louise Ervin, 501 Bryant Avenue, Chicago. Prof. Daniel Falcomer, University of Chicago, Chicago. Mr. J. Walter Fewkes, Boston, Mass. Mr. J. Comfort Fillmore, 290 Farwell Avenue, Milwaukee, Wis. Mr. W. Fitz, Cambridge, Mass. Miss Alice C. Fletcher, Peabody Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. Miss Emilie Fletcher, The Waffrons, Upper Long Ditton, Surrey, Eng. Mrs. Mary French-Sheldon, F.R.G.S., London, Eng. Mr. W. E. Gaston, Hutchinson, Kansas. Prof. Franklin H. Giddings, Bryn Mawr, Penn. Mr. Robert L. Gifford, 221 Fifth Avenue, Chicago. Mr. Wm. H. Gillard, Oxford, Ohio. Miss Flora Goldman, 240 North Avenue, Allegheny, Penn. Miss Rosa Goldman, 240 North Avenue, Allegheny, Penn. Miss Mary E. Gouldy, Newburgh, N. Y. Mr. Henry G. Graham, 1408 Wabash Avenue, Chicago. „ Mr. Wm. B. Greenlee, 48 Stewart Avenue, Ithaca, N. Y. Mr. E. H. Grubbe, 2836 Church Place, Chicago. Mr. C. M. Grumbling, Mount Pleasant, Iowa. Mr. J. V. Mendes Guerreiro, Lisbon, Portugal. Mr. F. P. Gulliver, Norwich, Conn. Miss Belle Hale, 29l6 Calumet Avenue, Chicago. Mr. B. F. Handforth, l59 Franklin Street, Chicago. Mr. C. Harrison, Chicago. Miss Corinne Harrison, Norfolk, Virginia. Mr. Ernest Hart, 40 Wimpole Street, London, Eng. REGISTERED MEMBERS. XUl Dr. Emil Hassler, Paraguay. Mrs. Mary A. Hawkins, Minneapolis, Minn. Mrs. Alice Palmer Henderson, Minneapolis, Minn. Mr. Henrik Chr. Henriksen, 1S7 W. Erie Street, Chicago. Mr. Frederick Charles Hicks, Columbia, Mo. Rev. F. L. L. Hiller, University Park, Colo. Mr. John H. Hjetland, Leona, Kansas. Prof. John W. Hoffman, State University, Louisville, Ky. Dr. Bayard Holmes, 104 East Fortieth Street, Chicago. Mrs. Bayard Holmes, 104 East Fortieth Street, Chicago. Mr. W. H. Holmes, Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, D. C. Mr. Granville W. Home, Hutchinson, Ky. Mr. Walter Hough, U. S. National Museum, Washington, D. C. Mr. John C. Houston, iSi Ninety-ninth Street, South Chicago. Miss Helen S. Norton Howell. Mr. C. S. Hubbard. Mr. John D. Hullinger, Jr., 4337 Calumet Avenue, Chicago. Mr. George Hunt, Fort Rupert, B. C. Mr. William Hurst, 224 West Randolph Street, Chicago. Mr. H. H. Huskey, Pullman, 111. Mr. S. L. Irvin, Chicago. Mr. William F. Irvine, Yorkville, 111. Rev. Jno. L Jackson, Grand Rapids, Mich. Dr. Julia M. Jackson, 372 Twentieth Avenue N., Minneapolis. Mr. Adrian Jacobsen, Berlin, Germany. Dr. Ulrich Jahn, Berlin, Germany. Prof. J. Jastrow, Madison, Wis. Prof. Morris Jastrow, Jr., Philadelphia, Pa. Mr. Arthur Kaiser, 336 Richmond Street, Buffalo, N. Y. Mr. H. F. Kallenberg, 578 North Avenue, New York. Mr. Louis Kanselbaum, Denver, Colo. ^ Miss Nellie S. Kedzie, Manhattan, Kansas. Rev. James W. Kennedy, Detroit, Mich. Dr. Charles A. Kersey, 4714 Evans Avenue, Chicago. Mrs. Brandon L. Keys, Chicago. Mrs. Lillian G. Keys, 405l Spruce Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Mr. C. S. Kirkland, San Francisco, Cal. Mr. Alfred Krembs, 152 West Randolph Street, Chicago. Mr. S. W. Kroesen, Warrensburg, Mo. Mr. George F. Kunz, New York City. Mr. George F. Kunz, New York City. Miss Nora De Lapp, Monticello, Iowa. Dr. S. Laws, Columbia, S. C Rev. Anthon P. Lea, Ruthven, Iowa. Mr. John Gill Lemmon, 101 5 Clay Street. Oakland, Cal. Mrs. Sara Plummer Lemmon, 1015 Clay Street, Oakland, Cal. Prof. Emile Levasseur, 26 Rue Monsieur le Prince, Paris, France. XIV REGISTERED MEMBERS. Mr. Montague R. Leverson, Charlottesville, Va. Dr. Charles J. Lewis, 733 Carroll Avenue, Chicago. Mr. Chas. S. Lobingien, Omaha, Neb. Mrs. Margaret S. Lockwood, 1677 Barry Avenue, Chicago. Mr. Carl Lumholtz, Everett House, New York City. Mr. Wm. McAdams, Alton, 111. Mr. James E. McDade, Kensington, 111. Mr. Wm. H. McFarland, Placerville, Col. Dr. Anita Newcomb McGee, 1225 Connecticut Avenue, Washington, D. C Prof. W. J. McGee, Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, D. C Mrs. W. J. McGee, Washington, D. C. Mr. M. Y. Maclean, Seaforth, Ontario, Canada. Mrs. H. W. Magie, 7722 Winter Street, Chicago. Mr. T. Percy Mallorie, L.L.B., 349 Chestnut Street, Chicago. Mr. Frank Addison Manny, Ann Arbor, Mich. Mr. W. H. Manwarren, Peoria, 111. Sr. Margaret of the S. H., St. Martins, Brown Co., Ohio Prof. E. L. Mark, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. Prof. Otis T. Mason, National Museum, Washington, D. C. Mr. George Mercer, Milwaukee, Wis. Mr. Henry C. Mercer, Doylestown, Bucks Co., Penn. Mr. H. Middleton, Washington, D. C Miss Lily E. Miller, Simons, 111. Mr. P. J. Miniter, 43 Pear Street, Chicago. Rev. G. C. Mitchell, 2099 Jackson Boulevard, Chicago. Mr. Geo. E. Mitchell, Rensselaer, Ind. Sr. M. Monica, St. Martins, Brown Co., Ohio. Rev. J. Y. Montague, Pratt, Kansas. M. Emilio Montes, Hacienda Kotawachs, Pia Andawaylas, Peru. Mr. G. W. Moorehouse, Madison, Wis. Mrs. M. J. Morrill, Villa Park, Colo. Prof. Edward S. Morse, Salem, Mass. Mr. Charles Mueller, 1256 Fifty-seventh Street, Chicago. Dr. John Mueller, Upsala, Sweden. M. Manuel A. Muniz, Apartado 275, Lima, Peru. Prof. William Wells Newell, Cambridge, Mass. Miss Newell, Cambridge, Mass. Mrs. Zelia Nuttall, 4 Beust Street, Dresden, Germany. Mr. Althea A. Ogden, 46 Thirty-fifth Street, Chicago. Mrs. Mary G. Orsen, Black Walnut, Va. Mrs. E. Parker, Chicago. Mr. Francis Parry, 12 Queen's Gate Terrace, London, England. Mr. Stephen D. Peet, Good Hope, 111. Prof. G. H. Perkins, Burlington, Vt. Dr. C. Peters, Berlin, Germany. Mr. Isaiah Pillar, Lima, Ohio. Mrs. Charles E. Planck, Seattle, Washington. REGISTERED MEMBERS. XV Miss Esther Pratt, Salem, Mass. Mr. J. R. Price, Western Springs, 111. Prof. F. W. Putnam, Cambridge, Mass. Mrs. F. W. Putnam, Cambridge, Mass. Miss Alice Putnam, Cambridge, Mass. Mr. Geo. H. Putnam, Austin, Texas. Miss Frances Raff, Cliicago. Mr. Jerome H. Raymond, 297 W. Park Avenue, Aurora, 111. Miss Mary Rennick, Cincinnati, Ohio. Mr. Frank C Rex, Pottstown, Penn. Mr. J. F. Rhoads, Jacksonville, Fla. Dr. F. M. Rice, Newton Falls, Ohio. Mr. C. H. Richardson, 5807 La Salle Street, Chicago. Mr. J. N. Roe, 439 Englewood Avenue, Englewood, 111. Mr. George O. Rogers, Hillsboro, Oregon. Mrs. H. F. Rohde, Chicago. Rev. W. A. Ryan, Camillus, N. Y. Mr. Stephen Salisbury, Worcester, Mass. Mr. H. Sanders, Savannah, Ga. Mr. Ezra J. Sanford, Colgate University. Mrs. J. W. Saundes, Gatesville, Texas. Miss Arianna E. Scammon, 5695 Madison Avenue, Chicago. Mr. Charles H. Sergei, Chicago. Mrs. Charles H. Sergei, Chicago. Rev. Robert P. Shaw, Sturgis, Mich. Mr. Edward J. Sheedy, 11 W. Madison Street, Chicago. Prof. Thos. E. Shields, St. Thomas Seminary, St. Paul, Minn. Mr. Arthur W. Short, Fort Worth, Texas. Mr. Geo. J. Simons, 368 N. Lincoln Avenue, Chicago. Prof. Albion W. Small, University of Chicago, Chicago. Mr. Harlan I. Smith, Saginaw (E. S.), Mich. Mr. Herbert Wood Smith, St. Paul, Minn. Mr. J. Edward Smith, 834 Michigan Street, Buffalo, N. Y. Mr. Charles W. Spalding, 522 Byron Avenue, Chicago. Mr. H. A. Squires, Chicago. Rev. W. H. Staven, Chittenango, N. Y. Mr. B. F. Steinnmates, Clinton, 111. Miss Alta Spear Stevens, Stanberry, Mo. Mrs. Cornelius Stevenson, Philadelphia, Pa. Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, D. C Mr. William B. Stovell, Martin, Ga. Mr. James D. Sweeney, Albilene, Kan. Mr. William Sweet, Shelbyville, 111. Mr. E. B. Taylor, 192 Thirty-first Street, Chicago. Mr. Isaiah Milligan Terrell, Fort Worth, Texas. Gen. Yates G. Thruston, Nashville, Tenn. Mr. Paul Tyner, Madison, Wis. XVi REGISTERED MEMBERS. Mr. James E. Vatcher, 321 Chicago Avenue, Chicago. Miss K. B. Vick, Vicksburg, Miss. Mr. Ernest Volk, Trenton, N. J. Mr. C. Staniland Wake, 4401 State Street, Chicago. Mr. John Wallace, Tuscola, 111. Mr. F. E. Warren, Y. M. C A., Chicago. Mr. Fred Warriner, Battle Creek, Mich. Mr. E. E. Webb, Ruttman, Wash. Rev. Z. A. Weidler, Mountville, Penn. Mr. Henry D. Wellcome, Snow Hill Buildings, London, Eng. Dr. Gerald M. West, Garnerville, Rockland Co., N. Y. Mr. John B. West, 212 South Sixth Street, St. Louis, Mo. Rev. Henry S. White, Romeo, Mich. Dr. Eliza Lawton Whiteley, 6854 Wentworth Avenue, Chicago. Prof. C. G. Whitman, University of Chicago, Chicago. Mr. Harry Whitney, 404 Whitney Avenue, Nev/ Haven, Conn. Mr. Geo. D. Wilder, New Haven, Conn. Rev. W. W. Willard, 3533 Page Avenue, St. Louis, Mo. Rev. G. P. Williams, 6713 Emerald Avenue, Chicago. Miss Hannah S. Wingate, 2101 Fifth Avenue, New York. Mr. E. A. Wirks, Hamilton, Butler Co., Ohio. Miss Anna S. Woods, Quincy, 111. Mr. Wright, Oberlin, Ohio. Mr. F. C. Yates, Noble, Ohio. Mr. A. E. Yerex, Salem, Oregon. Mrs. A. E. Yerex, Salem, Oregon TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE Presidential Address. 1. The "Nation" as an Element in Anthropology. By Daniel G. Brinton, ........ 19 PHYSICAL ANTHROPOLOGY. • 2. The Anthropology of the North American Indian. By Franz Boas, 37 3. The Anthropometry of American School Children. By Gerald M. West, ... . . . . .50 ARCH/tOLOGY. 4. The Discovery of an Artificially Flaked Flint Specimen in the Quat- ernary Gravels of San Isidro, Spain. By H. E. Mercer. Illus- trated, -.--.--- 61 5. Aboriginal American Mechanics. A Study in the History of Tech- nography. By Otis T. Mason, . . . .69 6. Archaeological Researches in the Champlain Valley. By G. H. Perkins, ........ 84 7. Anthropological Work at the University of Michigan. By Harlan 1. Smith, ....... 92 8. The Antiquity of the Civilization of Peru. By Emilio Montes, . 95 9. Cave-Dwellers of the Sierra Madre. By Carl Lumholtz, . 100 10. Orientation. By A. L. Lewis, . . . . .113 11. The Tumuli of Hampshire as a Central Group of the Tumuli of Britain. By John S. Phene. [Abstract], - - .117 12. Natural History of Flaked Stone Implements. By. W. H. Holmes. Illustrated, ...... 120 13. Cache Finds from Ancient Village Sites in New Jersey. By Ernest Volk. Illustrated. 140 (xvll) xviii CONTENTS. ETHNOLOGY. 14. On Various Supposed Relations between the American and Asian Races. By D. G. Brinton, ..... 145 15 Bark Cloth. By Walter Hough. [Abstract], . . . i52 16. Love Songs Among the Omaha Indians. By Alice C. Fletcher, . 153 17. Primitive Scales and Rhythms. By John Comfort Fillmore. Illus- trated, 158 18. Secret Societies and Sacred Mysteries. By Stephen D. Peet, . 176 19. Observations Among the Cameroon Tribes of West Central Africa. By C. H. Richardson, . . . . • .199 20. Ethnological Exhibit of the Smithsonian Institution at the World's Columbian Exposition. By Otis T. Mason, . . 208 21. The Germ of Shore-Land Pottery. An Experimental Study. By Frank Hamilton Gushing. Illustrated, . . . .217 FOLK-LORE. 22. Ritual Regarded as the Dramatization of Myth. By William Wells Newell 237 23. Some Illustrations of the Connection between Myth and Ceremony. By Washington Matthews, ..... 246 24. The Fall of Hochelaga. A Study of Popular Tradition. By Horatio Hale, -------- 252 25. Folk-Lore of Precious Stones. By George Frederick Kunz, . 267 26. The Coyote and the Owl. (Tales of the Kootenay Indians.) By A. F. Chamberlain, ...... 282 RELIGIONS. 27. The Scope and Method of the Historical Study of Religions. By Morris Jastrow, Jr., ...... 287 28. An Ancient Egyptian Rite Illustrating a Phase of Primitive Thought. By Sara Y. Stevenson, ...... 298 29. A Chapter of Zuni Mythology. By Matilda C. Stevenson, . 312 30 The Religious Symbolism of Central America and its Wide Distri- bution. By Francis Parry. [Abstract], . . .320 31. Museum Collections to Illustrate Religious History and Ceremonials. By Cyrus Adler, .... ... 322 CONTENTS. XIX LINGUISTICS. 32. The Present Status of American Linguistics. By Daniel G. Brinton. [Abstract], ....... 335 33. Classification of the Languages of the North Pacific Coast. By Franz Boas, ....... 339 SUPPLEMENTARY. GERMAN PAPERS. 34. Die Bewohner des Gran Chaco, Paraguay. Von Emil Hassler, . 349 35. Vilen als Heilkundige iin Volkglauben der Suedslaven. Von Dr. Friedrich S. Krauss, ...... 367 THE CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ADDRESS BY THE PRESIDENT. THE "NATION" AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. BY DR. DANIEL G. BRINTON. THE subject which I bring before you is one which I have selected in order to impress upon you forcibly the true breadth and full meaning of the science toward the cultivation of which we have assembled at this time. There is no other word which so thoroughly expresses the pur- pose of this branch of learning as that which we have adopted — Anthropology, the Science of Man, the study of the nature of man, the search for and correct expression of those laws, and all the laws, which govern the birth, growth, development and decay of all his traits, powers and faculties. Anthropology means this, and nothing less than this. Its motto is that of the character in the Terentian drama — "t/? me nullum humanum alienutn puto." It embraces everything and excludes nothing which pertains to humanity, whether in the individual or in his various aggregations. It omits no part or function of him as unworthy of its notice; it admits the existence of none so superior or sacred as to be beyond the pale of its investigations. The field which it goes forth to reap is the World, and its harvest-season covers all time since man tirst set foot upon it. It is signally unfortunate that the full connotation of the term has not been constantly present in the minds of those who have pursued the science. We should not then have witnessed the cheerless spectacle of one school of anthropologists claiming that man is nothing more than the highest mammal, and that the study of his anatomical and physiological relations exhausts the definition of their science, and that those who go beyond these are merely " historians and men of letters;" or that of another school, which, disregarding the incalculable potency of man's physical conditions, seeks to erect the science exclusively on 19 20 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the basis of the products of the mental faculties, his arts, institu- tions, religions and languages. Each is equally in error. No correct and comprehensive idea can be formed of the various elements which have rendered man what he is, or any race or stock of men what it is, unless all these phenomena receive due consideration, and the various agencies which influence them are weighed with impartial fairness. The historian must become an anatomist, the anatomist a linguist, if he would reach positive results in this study. You observe that the programme of this Congress includes Physi- cal Anthropology, Archaeology, Ethnology, Folk-lore, Religions and Linguistics. It would be an epoch in the history of the science, a notable era in its development, if the labors we are about to enter upon should lastingly impress on all who pursue this branch that every one of these departments is equally important, that not one of them can be neglected or overlooked, that the richest in results is still but primus inter pares, a brother among brethren. To illustrate how closely the multitudinous influences which they represent are woven together, and how each bears upon the whole nature of man, I shall consider with brevity in what manner that entity which we call a " Nation" appears as an element in anthropology. I have been partly, though by no means wholly, led to make this selection because this particular question has been much misunder- stood in some quarters and its bearings misconceived. As late as at the congress at Moscow last year, a distinguished writer on our branch of science said, " Nationality has nothing to do with anthropology. It is a product of history and concerns history only. " So far from this being correct, I shall endeavor to show that nation- ality has ever been and is to-day an agent more powerful in modifying both the physical and the psychical elements of man than either race, climate, religion or culture; and therefore that it must constantly occupy the attention of the anthropologist, whether his researches are in the purely physical or in the intellectual fields. I desire to emphasize the fact that the anthropologist will never fully comprehend the science which he professes to follow, will never attain the preception of its whole significance, if he omits from its study, as not pertaining strictly to it, any influence whatever which bears upon and modifies in any direction the evolution of the human species. This the Nation does with a directness and a potency which cannot be misunderstood or called in question. THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 21 Let US inquire what it is we mean by the expression " a people " or " a nation," when we use these terms as synonymous. I can find no more profound and true definition than that given by the most philosophic English poet of this century, Robert Browning, in these words: "A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one." The incompleteness and imperfectness of the life of the isolated individual, and his conscious or unconscious aspirations for completion and perfection, are the motives which have ever urged man to establish those relations with his fellows which result in what we call social ties or bonds. Although to the superficial observer these seem to have been most heterogeneous and fortuitous, a comprehensive analysis reduces them to a very few so far as their guiding principles are concerned. Here as elsewhere in ethnology we are impressed with the paucity, yes, 1 may even say the poverty, of the resources which have been utilized by man in his upward march to conscious culture. Wherever we find men united together under some form of social compact, we shall find also that this compact will fall under one of three categories. It is based upon community, either real or theoretical, of blood, of territorial area, or of purpose. These three forms are mutually incompatible; they are exclusive of and in sharp contrast with one another; they react very differently upon the individual and the race; and they belong markedly to different periods in the history of a people, to different stages of its advancement in culture. It may be laid down as a rule with few or no exceptions that the earliest form of the social bond is one of blood, of kinship, of con- sanguinity and affinity. The unit of the primitive horde is the family, the one cohesive principle which it recognizes as socially binding is purity of descent, the maintenance of the integrity of the stock, as its members understand it. Here, then, we see a mighty influence at work to preserve in primitive times and conditions the unity of the physical type. The visible aim of communities in the lower stages of culture is to preserve at all costs the characteristics of the race to which they belong, and the particular traits of the variety of that race as inherited from their ancestors. This is the guiding principle of what is known as matriarchy and the custom of tracing the genealogical line through the maternal and not through the paternal ancestry. Positive certainty as to parentage must in every case be limited to 22 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the mother, and for that reason the female line always insures a higher probability of purity of descent. Of course the degree with which the conservation of the type was really maintained under this system depended on the local laws or customs regarding marriage and the fidelity required of married women. It is true that in both these respects there is considerable divergence in early conditions. In some places exogamous mar- riages prevailed; that is, the wife must not be an acknowledged re- lation of the husband; more frequently, marriages must be endoga- mous, that is, she must be of his recognized kin; though often this again is limited, as that she must not be an offspring of the same mother, or not be within Certain degrees of kinship. Reminiscences of these restrictions still prevail in civilized communities, in ths laws prohibiting the marriage of near relations, or, as in England, prohibiting marriage with a deceased wife's sister. In spite of these limitations, which differ widely in different tribes, the general influence of the principle of consanguinity as the basis of the social compact unquestionably aided through countless ages to individualize the physical types of the human species, and thus to develop and render permanent its races and varieties as we now know them. So powerful was this prejudice in favor of the ancestral type, that it was a general custom in primitive times to destroy at or shortly after birth any aberrant types, and to bring all into accord with the tribal idea. For instance, in certain parts of Mexico there is a tend- ency to congenital albinism in the native population; and before the conquest all children displaying this tendency were sacrificed to the gods before the age of puberty. Among the Papuans, when a child is born of a lighter color than the average of the tribe, it is assiduously held in the smoke of green branches until it is tanned to the proper hue. Whenever, indeed, there was any material varia- tion from the received type, the infant was sure not to live to that period of life when he or she could transmit it to offspring; and thus a potent factor in the evolution of the species toward modified forms was absent throughout all the childhood of the human race, owing to the conditions of the prevailing social compact. The somatologist will object to this, that in the very earliest times and within limited areas we find that a wide diversity of type prevailed. For instance, I suppose the oldest remains of the human race found up to the present have been unearthed in Western THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 23 Europe. But these venerable relics show the existence there in re- motest times and at no great distance apart— not more than a few days' walk of an active pedestrian— of men with broad heads, and others with narrow heads, with narrow faces and with wide faces, with expanded flat noses and with narrow aquiline noses, of stature below the medium and others above the medium; and we may reas- onably conclude from their descendants that some were blonds with yellow hair, while others were swarthy brunettes with locks like the raven's wing. So that Professor Kollmann, who has made this subject a special study, cannot see his way clear to admit less than four different races struggling for the soil of Western Europe in pre- historic times. Yet if we may judge from some historic data and all analogy, these ancient peoples, like all others, strove to retain in its purity the race of their ancestors by a social organization looking to that end. Two customs prevail everywhere in primitive life which largely counteract the result of consanguine marriages; the one is adoption, the other concubinage. Usaully, in their unceasing wars, the males of conquered tribes were killed and the women taken as captives, thus introducing through the females of another line the peculiarities of their variety or race. In some instances, however, the males were in part preserved and adopted into the clans of the conquering tribe, either as members or as slaves. In either case they led to a modification of the ascendant type. So varied were and are the customs and rules of primitive peoples in all these respects that it would be vain to attempt to establish a formula representing the degree in which the integrity of the racial or ethnic type was maintained; but, the aim of their institutions being always and definitely this, we may be sure that they tended very positively to preserving the lineage undefiled, and to perpetuating the physical and mental traits of each community. When this did not occur, it was in contradiction to the theory of the social compact, and arose from ignorance of the natural conditions which insure per- petuity of type, or their disregard, owing to the cravings of individual appetite. In entire contrast to all this are both the theory and the practice which we find in the next higher step in social relations, that which has for its basis a geographical or territorial concept. In this, it is not the notion of kinship but that of country which 24 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. is predominant. The patriot of this epoch fights no longer for his lineage, but for his land, not for his relations, but for the realm. He expresses in this the sentiment which actuates the Nation, properly so called. Consanguine governments are tribal governments; with the birth of a genuine nationality, the family, the gens, the tribe, are all doomed to disappear, and with them the modifying influences they exerted on the race. The intervening step between the Tribe and the Nation is usually said to be the Federation, in which several tribes agree to forget their jealousies and unite in defense or oflfense. This condition is transitory, and 1 shall pass it by, in order to consider the direct influence of a Nationality on those elements of human nature which are the peculiar topics of anthropologic science. The first object of Nationality is unity, and this in the fullest sense of the term and in all the relations of national life. Almost the very first of its aims is physical unity. A visible con- trast between the inhabitants of diflferent areas under one rule is sug- gestive to the legislator of a lack of harmony in other respects. The influence of a court, or of centralization generally, has ever been to disseminate throughout the realm one standard of physical beauty, as also one of costume and deportment; and this irrespective of how many discrepant varieties go to make up the body of the nation. In this, as in all other respects, the chief efforts of the nation through its rulers are directed toward destroying those individual and tribal traits which forms of government based on consanguinity make it their chief end to cherish. This contrast presents itself early. We find, for instance, that the native rulers of ancient Peru, the Incas, were accustomed, as soon as they had subjugated a new province, to deport large numbers of its inhabitants to distant parts of their empire, and supply their places with inhabitants of other tribes, who had been long subject to their rule. This plan of partial deportation and colonization was familiar to the Carthaginians, Romans and other enterprising nations of the Mediterranean Basin, and explains to a large extent the constant blending of extreme physical types which the somatologist discovers in the remains from the oldest cemeteries around that great interior sea. We know by history and tradition that the " blond Libyans," the light-haired, blue-eyed natives of Northern Africa, tall and dolicho- cephalic, were transported in large numbers across the sea to the north. THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 25 and settled among the smaller, swarthy and brachycephalic tribes, whom we vaguely hear of under the names of Ligurians, Aquitanians, and Iberians. Another physical lever which the Nation, as distinct from the Tribe, brings to bear on the physical traits of the species within its limit is its military organization. This is no longer classified by clans or gentes, but is an army, with its soldiers drawn indiscriminately from all parts of its territory, and moving inditferently into all parts, as occasion calls for. In earlier and more disturbed times, when social ethics were less regarded than to-day, the presence of large numbers of men cantoned and quartered upon the inhabitants, often exercising over them a brutal authority, led to constant commingling of race- types and the gradual extinction of local peculiarities. The influence which the Nation as an anthropologic element exerts on language is one which demands our special attention. When it is rightly understood, much of that contest which has been going on for years between ethnographers, as to the worth or worthlessness of language as a guide in ethnography, will appear in a different light. It is obvious that it would be consonant with the spirit of a gentile or consanguine society to preserve pertinaciously its own inherited speech, and to oppose any changes in it. But it is just as much in its spirit to desire to confine its own tongue to its own mem- bers and to look with jealousy on others than those of the true blood making use of it. Professional linguists in the American field are well acquainted with the prevailing unwillingness of the natives to give much information about their languages. They regard with suspicion and distrust inquirers into their own peculiar dialects; it is in the nature of a trespass upon private property. The federations of tribes never go so far as to attempt to establish linguistic or dialectic unity. Only incidentally and accidentally does one tongue partly encroach upon another one in this stage of society. For this reason the linguistic classification in ethnography is a truly valuable one in all conditions of life where the consanguine rule prevails. The language is then a trustworthy guide of affiliation both exclusively and inclusively, and the instances are extremely rare, if any indeed exist, where one tribe had deliberately forced another to change its language, as the condition of entering into an alliance. The so-called " Empire of Anahuac," in Mexico, the organization of which had not wholly emerged from the consanguine condition. 26 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. held as conquered and tributary many tribes of different speech, but had made no effort to impose upon any of them its own sonorous and beautiful language. On the other hand, Peru, which had reached a condition of national existence, exerted constant and strong pressure, as its historian Garcilaso de la Vega assuics us, to crush and extirpate all other tongues throughout its domains than the Kechua, that spoken by the Incas and their congeners. It was declared to be the official language, and there was no hope for promotion for one not familiar with it. In this respect, those enlightened rulers of the Peruvian state displayed an insight into what constitutes the very strongest bond of national unity, which we here in the United States appreciate yet but imperfectly. It is within my own memory that the Acts of Assembly of my own State were issued in two languages, thus encouraging a long -existing linguistic discrepancy between the citizens of that commonwealth. Linguistic unity is the indispensable basis of national unity. When, as is the case with one of the present European empires, we hear of thirty-six different languages being current under one rule, we may be sure there is no real coherence in the nation. The recognition of this fact, and the steady efforts directed toward the extermination of subordinate tongues and the substitution of a general or national one in their place, has led to the phenomenon of peoples of the same descent speaking different idioms, and those of alien origin expressing themselves through one and the same medium. It remains true, nevertheless — and this is an important point too often lost sight of in the discussion — that this substitution of one language for another never takes place without an extensive admixture of blood; for there is no more potent and prompt method of attacking the integrity of a language than by intermarriage. Indeed, except in cases of slavery, we may almost establish the formula that the admix- ture of blood under such circumstances bears the fixed relation of one-half to one; that is, that when a language has superseded another, one-half of the marriages in the latter have been with members of the former. Of course, by marriages in this relation we mean continued sexual unions, not necessarily legal ceremonies. In no department of anthropology has the Nation as a formative agent exerted a more visible influence than in religion. It is well known to you all that the primitive religion is strictly that of the gens, the family and the tribe. Some, indeed, have claimed that ancestral worship, the homage paid to the forefathers of the horde, was always the earliest expression of the religious sentiment. THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 27 This is probably erroneous, but that it generally played a prominent part all will acknowledge. There can be no question but that, so long as the consanguine theory of social organization exists, the religion is always tribal. The god or gods which are worshiped arc gods of the tribe, interesting themselves in it exclusively or mainly, espousing its cause, and defending it against the tribal enemies. It makes no ditfer- ence whether the tendency of the tribal psychology is toward poly- theism or monotheism, toward materiality or spirituality in its deistic conceptions, the strictly limited and tribal character of its religion will not be altered. It was a serious error on the part of the philosopher Comte to suppose that the line of progress of religions is from animism, or, as he called it, fetichism, through polytheism to monotheism. That may be the logical, but it is not the historical, progress. A monotheism may be as narrow as the narrowest ancestral worship; the one god may be merely the god of the tribe, as was the Jehovah of the early Jews, derived, as Semitic scholars now tell us, name and all, from a local Canaanitish deity. The real line, of progress is in extension, in the conception of a supreme intelligence, who treats friend and foe with equal favor, and who governs the processes of the universe on principles which do not fit into any frame of morals or justice carved by human hands, for these are ever the product of temporary phases of growth. To this progress the Nation as an historic entity powerfully con- tributed. As one tribe conquered and absorbed another, and new gods were brought in along with the new blood, it necessarily followed that their merely tribal character was lost. They were chosen as national gods, or, more generally, they fell into complete forgetf ulness. Were they locally celebrated as potent auxiliaries of their worshipers, special etforts might be made to destroy their hold upon the imagina- tion of their adherents. It is curious to observe that both in Peru and in ancient Rome the most celebrated gods of conquered tribes were carried to the capital, and there placed in a temple by them- selves, where it was believed they could do no harm to the reigning powers. It is true that the tribal character of tribal religions, inherited from father to son through so many generations, continued to make itself felt even in the minds of religious reformers and national rulers long after the Nation had exerted its dissolving potency on most which had come under its influence. Christianity was first preached 28 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. as a tribal religion, and it was only with expressed regret that its founder, finding that it would not be received by the tribe, sought disciples outside of the line of Judah. So, in later times, and quite down to our own day, national councils and rulers express themselves with more or less of sincerity in the words of Louis XIV,: " Can God forget all that 1 have done for Him? " But even fanatics and hypocrites are not utterly impervious to the logic which, in the construction of the Nation, destroys the gods of the tribe. They, too, begin sooner or later to perceive that deity is quite as much on the side of the enemy of their country as on their own, and thus that a national religion or a state church is an illogical anachronism which can be maintained only at the cost of debasing the religious sentiment and hindering its true evolution. The greater security accompanying a firmly-established govern- ment and a more extended knowledge of natural laws also forced a change upon the conceptions of the religious sentiment. The distinguished anthropologist Broca maintained that religion is not a proper and distinctive trait of humanity; that its sole foundations are fear and ignorance, and that, as these disappear in the onward march of intellect and the improvement of social security, all forms of religion will be discarded. Following his doctrines, MM. Hovelacque and Herve', in their excellent text-book. Precis lV Anthropologic, for- mulate the decision: "When the human intellect attains freedom through observation and experience, it reaches atheism, that scientitlc form of materialism which acknowledges the existence of nothing beyond the elements of matter and the properties with which they are endowed." Toward the destruction of all local, personal and tribal forms of religion the Nation potently contributes by declaring them in antag- onism to the spirit of nationality; the security it guarantees lessens the dread of the unknown, and thus diminishes the element of fear as a basis for religion; but it is still questionable whether, if all such fear was removed, the result stated by the writers above quoted would be reached. The religious sentiment is not exclusively based on fear, and manifests itself without this prompting. In discussing this question broadly, 1 shall not stop to consider the special form of government which the Nation may adopt. That is really of secondary importance, as it does not materially influence the completeness of the contrast between the spirit of the Nation, as such, and that of the tribal condition. THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 29 Whatever the national form of government adopted, the principal maxims of jurisprudence and the ethical principles upon which they repose are profoundly modified by the substitution of the national in place of the tribal idea. I will illustrate this contrast by an example familiar to the stu- dents of the early history of this country. The European settlers in the colonies of Pennsylvania and New York could not understand why, when in time of peace an Indian murdered a white man, they could obtain no redress from the tribal government with whom they had treaty relations. They regarded such indolence a breach of faith and proof of evil intention. It was nothing of the kind. A crime of blood was something which con- cerned the consanguined gens only; it was a family matter, with which the tribal council had no concern, and about which it could take no action; it was in no sense a crime against the common- wealth. This view of the case was something wholly incomprehensible to the Europeans, who belonged to states where a felony or a breach of the peace is an attack on the community. In other words, ethnic jurisprudence is something quite different when the Nation appears on the stage of history from what it is in the tribal condition. This contrast runs through the whole of ethics. In a thoughtful article published some years ago in the Zeitschrift fur Ethnologic, Dr. Kulischer pointed out that in primitive conditions ethics presents a dualistic aspect: it demands the cultivation of kindness, protection, assistance, love and peace to our friends, but quite as much does it prescribe hatred, enmity, robbery, murder and deception toward our enemy. The Nation breaks down the walls of narrow tribal animosi- ties; it increases the number of those whose patriotic interests are in common, and thus widens the area of duty and the conceptions of ethics; but who dares say that our own conceptions of ethics are much beyond the primitive stage when still the greatest hero among us is the most skillful in murdering men, the most expert military commander? Anything like a categorical imperative in ethics, a prescription of duty which should be the law of everyone toward all men would be out of the question in a society based on relationship or on narrow territorial considerations. Nowhere does this ethical contrast become more apparent than in the relations of the one to the many, of the individual to the mass» / 30 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. a feature in ethnic jurisprudence admirably brought out in his recent masterly work on the subject by Dr. Albert Hermann Post. In the tribal, totemic or consanguine condition of government the individual is not regarded as an independent unit. The obligations he has to fulfill are those of his gens, and his actions are regarded, not as his own, but as those of a member of his gens. If he robs or murders, the punishment falls, not on him person- ally, but on the gens; and if blood-money or other compensation is demanded, it is not from him that it is required, but from the gens. He, in turn, is liable for any crime his fellow - clansmen may commit; and in this vicarious expiation he sees nothing in conflict with the principles of abstract justice. He has not yet reached to the consciousness of himself as an individual. He accepts the obligations of his clan as his own, and is scarcely aware that he suffers any diminution because he can create no obligations himself otherwise than in his position as a representative of the clan or gens. This is also true of his civil rights, and those which refer to property. Wherever the consanguine theory is in force, the com- munal idea of property is also active. The land belongs in part or in whole to the kith and kin, in the nature of common land, or is sub-let by the heads of the community on longer or shorter tenures. Per- sonal property is so only in the sense that it belongs to the members of an immediate family or sub-gens, not to an individual, and in many instances passes in the female line. It is obvious that in such a condition of society no idea of inde- pendent personal duty or individual morality could rise in the mind; and should any such enter through foreign instigation, it would be condemned as false, destructive and treasonable. Permit me to dwell on this point with some detail because of its prime importance. Those considerations which establish in a com- munity its moral code, its ideal standard of what is right, of con- science and of duty, pronounce the final sentence on the fate of that community. In all earlier conditions, the preservation of the gens or tribe rested more on measures of destruction than of protection. Hence, toward the alien and the stranger justice and mercy were out of place and actually prohibited. Caesar tells us of the ancient Ger- mans, and Nordenskjold repeats the same of the modern Tchuktches of Siberia, that they respected no law or honesty in dealing with strangers or those alien to their tribe. To cheat such in trade, to de- ceive and to plunder them, was actually meritorious. THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 3l In such communities the stranger has no rights, and can claim no protection as a fellow human being. He can only attain such through some rite of adoption into the tribe, or through some cere^ mony by which he can claim the privileges of hospitality, what Ger- man writers call the Gastrecht. The gens, the clan, the tribe, is an isolated unit, in natural antagonism to the race at large, and recognizes no sort of solidarity with its other members, nay, regards them as foes. How dilferent is all this in the developed system of the state } There, the individual man is held accountable for his own actions. He is considered responsible for the deeds he commits, and therefore feels that he is answerable to himself for the opinions and ethical the- ories which lie at the basis of his life and direct his conduct. For the first time in the history of the race, he learns the meaning of Person- ality, the highest lesson which advancing civilization can impress on humanity. He sees that by himself he must either stand or fall; that no vicarious expiation can meet the demands of what is eternally right; that his responsibility does not belong to another, nor can it be involved by the actions of another, but ever centers in his own thoughts and actions. Thus is he gradually emancipated from that condition of tutelage and hereditary bondage in which he was so long kept by the consanguine theory of government. I cannot too strongly impress upon you that this concept of per- sonality is a totally ditferent condition from that of the isolated primi- tive man. We may imagine such an one, living alone with his one wife, his children around him, his household goods and gods all within his lonely lodge. That man's monogamy, his sense of property, his feelings of duty and responsibility, of association and independence, can in no way be assimilated to those of the man who is the free pro- duct of the state, developed through countless generations of gradual culture. To the scientific anthropologist the one is the complete con- trast to the other; they have nothing in common but their external membership of the same species, and a vague resemblance of external conditions. The individual is indeed the true purpose of the state. Its aim distinctly is that he, or she, as an individual, shall be provided with, and protected in, the greatest possible amount of personal liberty, in this being in the utmost contrast to consanguine governments; where the individual is nothing, the tribe everything. The value of personal liberty is as a means toward the acquisition 32 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. of personal happiness, and hence we are willing to accept the defini- tion of the modern idea of justice as advanced by the eminent French anthropologist, Andre Lefevre — that it is the respect for every interest which contributes to the highest general happiness of humanity ; and we cannot refuse to accept the definition of morality which Hovelacque and Herve offer, in their treatise above referred to, as the only one which anthropologists can recognize; that it is the principle of organ- ization for the purpose of satisfying the physical and intellectual needs of all men; a principle which, they justly add, can only be carried out successfully by guaranteeing to the individual the highest degree of personal liberty in every direction, limited by no other barrier than the enjoyment of similar liberty by every other individual. It is obvious on very slight reflection that the state as as element in anthropology has by no means worked out its full destiny in mod- ifying the physical and psychical nature of man. As a form of gov- ernment it is far from covering the whole of the earth's surface, and where it is nominally present it is still further in many instances from that perfected condition in which it has thrown aside the clogs and fetters of the consanguine system to which it succeeded. Take the vast empire of China for instance. It is ruled by a foreign dynasty on general principles of statecraft. But throughout all the really Chinese portions of the empire the details of the family system are retained with wonderful tenacity. But we need not go so far for examples. Wherever we find a system of castes or of privileged classes, an hereditary nobility or a state church, a transmissible community of property, whether real or personal, any inequality in the rights and responsibilities of sane adult individuals before the law, any concessions which relieve classes, or persons, or sects, or societies, or sexes of their full measure of liability, or confer upon them privileges or deny them rights enjoyed by others, there we are in the presence of a form of government still clinging in these respects to the primitive theories of human society. The student of ethnological jurisprudence will class it to this extent with the totemic and gentile systems of the lower and earlier strata of human development. Let me illustrate this by the relative position of woman in a tribe and in an enlightened state. 1 could not touch upon a weightier ques- tion to the somatologist, for none other so intimately relates to phy- sical anthropology. In spite of the matriarchal system, woman in all lower conditions THE NATION AS AN ELEMENT IN ANTHROPOLOGY. 33 of society is treated as inferior to man and is deprived of many rights which he enjoys. The exceptions to this are extremely rare, if any really exist. The cause of her inferiority is solely her less physical powers; it has ever been because she is bodily the weaker. The forms of marriage have made no difference. Whether a man could legally take to himself a multitude of wives, or whether, as in Thibet to-day, a woman could legally take a multitude of husbands; whether she was bought openly in the matrimonial market, or whether, as in this country, she could pick and choose at will from all her admirers; whether polygamy or monogamy prevails, she has ever been treated as man's inferior, disallowed equal rights, prevented from equal liberty. So it remains to-day, though with some improvement. At first she was but a slave and a beast of burden; at present, so far as the enjoyment of civic rights in modern states is concerned, she has risen to be classed among idiots and children. Surely we may hope that she has not yet attained the acme of her evolution. A peculiar interest is attached to the development of this inquiry by the fact that it was originally an American contribution to our science. The first who clearly pointed out the distinction between gentile and political conditions of society, that is, between the tribe and the state, was the late Mr. Lewis H. Morgan; and, although we have been obliged materially to modify many of his opinions, to him belongs the credit of being the earliest to present in scientific form this important truth in anthropology. He did not perceive very clearly its bearings on physical anthropology, to which 1 have referred above, but he was fully awake to the potent agency of the state, as distin- guished from the tribe, on the psychical nature of man. The follow- ing sentence from his chapter on the evolution of Greek culture will show this: " That remarkable development of genius and intelligence which raised the Athenians to the highest eminence among the historical nations of mankind occurred after they had adopted democratic insti- tutions, and these gave its inspiration." By " democratic institutions" Mr. Morgan meant the substitution of a national for a tribal life. But it would be an error to consider the state as we now know it, even in its best examples, as the final form which this element will take in molding the body and the mind of man, his aspirations and his ethical instincts. Already there are evident signs that at no very distant future the human race will outgrow the limits of Nationality 34 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. and will demand and find some guiding principle which will break down the barriers which the Nation, under present conditions, must perforce erect around itself; which will do away with the latent hos- tility which now requires the maintenance of enormous military estab- lishments, and will successfully solve the problem of absolutely con- serving the rights of the individual without impairing the efficiency of the organization. It is easy to predict from what direction and under what impulses this desirable result will be brought about. Every year is making it clearer to the eye of the attentive observer; and never anywhere or at any time has there been in the history of humanity a grander example of its growth and potency than here, at this moment, we have spread before our admiring gaze. It is by means of international action, through associations and organizations formed for international pur- poses, that the highest and ultimate efficiency of government will be reached; and then it will be discovered to be one with anthropology, the science of man, the discovery of the laws which will lead him to the utmost symmetrical development of all his faculties, to his max- imum efficiency, to his highest happiness. PHYSICAL ANTHROPOLOGY. PHYSICAL ANTHROPOLOGY. THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. BY DR. FRANZ BOAS. OUR knowledge of the anthropology of North America is based mainly upon the discussion of a number of important anthropological collections. First among these must be mentioned the famous Morton collection now in the possession of the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, which forms the basis of Morton and Meigs' famous investigations. A large collection relating particularly to prehistoric American peoples has grown up in Cambridge, Mass., and the reports of the Pea- body Museum contain much valuable material on our subject. Perhaps the largest collection is that of the U. S. Army Medical Museum in Washington, a published catalogue of which has made accessible a vast amount of anthropological material. But all of these data taken together have not been sufficient to delineate in a satisfac- tory manner the distribution of types of man in North America. Investigations on osteological material, particularly on material collected among modern tribes, are always unsatisfactory, in that the identification of the skull, regarding its tribe and sex, often remains doubtful. Neither is it certain if we have to deal with the remains of full-blood Indians or with those of half-breeds. It appears, therefore, that for a more thorough investigation of the anthropology of North American Indians an investigation on living individuals is indispensable. When the plans for the Department of Ethnology of the World's Columbian Exposition were being formed, Professor Putnam decided to include an investigation of the physical characteristics of the North American Indians in his work, and entrusted me with its organization. A number of young men, principally college students interested in this work, were instructed in the method of taking the observations. The material obtained through their agency has been the basis of the exhibit on the physical characteristics of the North American Indian. The material consists of measurements of about 17,000 full-blood and 38 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. half-breed Indians which are distributed all over the North American continent with the exception of the Arctic coast and the Mackenzie Basin. Before I begin to describe the results of this extensive inquiry I may be permitted to dwell briefly upon the leading considerations of the investigations. The present generation of Indians is mixed to a considerable extent with whites and negroes, so much so that in certain regions it is impossible to find a full-blood individual. Thus the numerous tribes of the Iroquois, Cherokees, Chickasaws and Choctaws contain very few full-blood individuals, if any. Tribes which were once numerous and which inhabited the coast of the Atlantic Ocean have entirely disappeared, or an insignificant rest only survives. It appeared practically impossible to secure adequate data for the whole region embracing New England, the Middle States and the Southern States. On the other hand the great frequency of half-breeds among all these tribes made an investigation on these races very interesting. 1 decided, therefore, to pay particular attention to the question regarding the anthropology of the half-breeds. In fact, this has proved to be one of the most fruitful fields of the investigation. In studying the characteristics of various Indian tribes as found by our observers, the question arises how to arrange them. On general principles it seemed best to consider the tribes simply as geographical groups and to treat the results also from a geographical standpoint. Following this principle, a number of tribes have been subdivided according to their present location. Thus the Ojibway, who inhabit a laige part of Canada, are divided into an eastern and a western section. On the other hand groups of small tribes which inhabit the same region, and which show no differences in type, have been combined. In order to define more clearly what is meant by a certain type, I will say that I consider the types as merely representing a series of forms found in a certain district. For convenience sake the names of the tribes among whom these types have been collected have been adopted for designating the types. I do not mean to say that the types which have been established are considered as original types of the respective peoples. The people itself may have become mixed in the course of the centuries with numerous other peoples, so much so that its original type may have disappeared entirely. There is no necessary correlation between the social unit which we call a tribe and the physical unit which constitutes the characteristics of the individuals THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 39 of a certain region. The physical type is the result of the complex descent of a people and of the elTect of the surroundings upon its physical development. It has nothing to do with the political and social organizations which we call tribes or nations. Therefore, if in the following 1 speak of types of the Sioux, or of Californians, it must be understood that 1 do not mean the types of the primitive Sioux tribe or the primitive tribes of California, but rather that I mean simply the types of the people inhabiting at present the regions occupied by the Sioux or by the Californian tribes. It was necessary to contlne the series of measurements to the most important ones, and particularly to avoid the necessity of the removal of clothing. Only by this restriction could a sufficient number of measurements be secured. It has been my endeavor to establish dif- ferences of types only in such cases where the number of cases was sufficient to show that the differences were real, not accidental. In tracing such differences it was particularly necessary to correct errors and inaccuracies of observation. In order to remedy this I have endeavored to obtain two independent series of observations on each tribe, taken by different observers and at different times. Whenever there was a reason to doubt the accuracy of an observer his returns have been excluded. I turn now to consider the results obtained by our investigations. It is a well-known fact that the number of Indians is decreasing. This is partly due to the fact that mixed-bloods leave the tribes, but partly also to the actual reduction in numbers. It seemed of impor- tance to know if this fact is due to the small number of births or to other causes, and also to compare the increase among half-breeds with that among full-blood Indians. For this purpose statistics have been collected regarding the number of children of Indian and half-breed women. It appears from these statistics that Indian women of more than forty years have on an average, approximately, six children, while half-breed women have on an average from seven to eight children. When the frequency of cases of women who have no children, or only two, three, four, five children, etc., are plotted, it appears that the smaller numbers of children are very much more frequent among the Indians than among the half-breeds, while the higher numbers of children are much more frequent among the half-breeds than among the Indians; that is to say, we find the rather unexpected result that the fertility among half-breed women is considerably larger than among full-blood women. The average number of children of Indian women 40 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. is also high, and therefore the decrease in their numbers can only be explained by the fact that there exists a very high infant mortality. In comparing the measurements of the head and of the face of Indians with those of whites we find the most striking difference to be in the dimensions of the transversal diameters of the face. On an average the breadth of face of the Indian is one centimetre more than that of the American white. It may be remarked that the face of the latter is exceedingly narrow and that in Europe, particularly in its eastern portions, we find faces which are considerably wider. It is of interest to investigate the breadth of face of the half-breed in order to see if it stands between the measurements of the parental races, and if it is nearer the one than the other. For this purpose I have computed the breadth of face of children of full-blood Indians, half-breeds and whites from year to year, beginning with the fourth year. The tabulation shows that the diiference which was noted be- tween the adults exists just as markedly among children. The faces grow in such a way that the relation of the three groups always re. mains the same. The breadth of face of half-breeds stands always between that of the Indians and that of the whites, but so that it is always nearer the former. This is the case among boys as well as among girls. Thus we find the remarkable fact that at least in this one respect the half-breed is always more alike to the Indian than to the whites. When we consider the color and structure of the hair the same fact becomes clear: light hair is of very rare occurrence among half- breeds; they have almost always the peculiar dark and coarse Indian hair; the colors of the eyes show also the same phenomenon. There- fore we may safely say that the half-breed resembles his Indian parent more than his white parent. Two reasons may be assigned for this fact. It may be that the dark hair and the wide face are more prim- itive characteristics of man than the narrow face and light eyes of the whites. Then we might say that the characteristics of the Indian ar inherited with greater strength because they are older. It must, however, also be considered that half-breeds are almost always descendants of Indian mothers and white fathers, and this may have had an influence, although there is no proof that children resemble their mothers more than their fathers. There is another peculiarity of the measurements of full-bloods and half-breeds which is worth remarking. If we count all the individuals who have a cer- tain breadth of face, say 140, 141, 142 millimetres, etc., it is found THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 41 that the measurement of 148 millimetres, which is approximately the average measurement, is the one which is most frequent. Among Indians it occurs 16 times among each 100 individuals. Among whites the most frequent measurement for the breadth of face is l38 millimetres, which also occurs about 16 times among each 100 indi- viduals. The average measurement of the half-breeds is about 144 millimetres. This, however, occurs only about 10 times among each 100 individuals. If, on the other hand, we compare the fre- queney of occurrence of excessively wide faces and excessively narrow faces as compared to the average of each group, we see that they are more frequent among the mixed races than among the pure races. It appears, therefore, that the half-breeds ditfer among themselves more than do the pure races. But still another phenomenon is of importance. While the average measurement of 144 millimetres occurs only 10 times among each 100 individuals, those of 140 millimetres and 146 millimetres occur each 12 times among each 100 individuals. Thus it appears that the middle form is not as frequent as forms similar to those of the parental races. It may seem that the difference of fre- quency mentioned here is not very great. It appears, however, that this irregularity occurs in all tabulations of measurements of half- breeds: therefore, it must have some significance, I will call to mind here that the same conclusion has been drawn by Francis Galton from his investigations on heredity; that Dr. von Luschan has also arrived^ at the same conclusion when considering the forms of skulls of Asia Minor; and that tlnally the anthropometric investigations on the sol- diers enlisted in Baden have given the same results. We may there- fore say with a high degree of probability that in the human race the effect of intermixture is not to produce a middle type, but that there is a tendency to reproduce ancestral traits. I shall revert to this matter later on. The study of the stature of half-breeds reveals biological laws of an entirely different character. The white element which enters into the composition of the half-breeds is very largely of French descent. As the American French are not a very tall race, we may safely say that the white element entering into the composition of the half-breeds is not very tall. Statistics of the stature of Indians show that they may conveniently be classified in three groups : Tall tribes, measur- ing more than 170 cm.; tribes of middle stature, measuring from 166 to 170 cm., and short tribes, measuring less than 166 cm. When we compare the statures of the tall tribes singly or collectively 42 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. with those cf the half-breeds of the same tribes we find that the latter are always taller than the full-blood Indians. This fact and the increased fertility among half-breed women would tend to show that the mixture of races results in an increased vitality. The difference in favor of the half-breed is so striking that no doubt can be enter- tained as to its actual existence. 1 believe the cause of this fact must be considered to be wholly in the elTects of intermixture, as the social surroundings of the half-breeds and of the Indians are so much alike that they cannot cause the existing differences. It is not surprising that the average stature of half-breeds belong- ing to the tribes of middle stature is still more in excess of that of the pure bloods, as in this case the average stature of the white race is probably greater than that of the Indians. The difference is finally still more sharply marked among the shortest tribes of Indians. Very peculiar conditions are revealed by the comparison of the laws of growth of full-blood and half-breed children. We have seen that the adult full-blood is shorter than the adult half-breed. Curiously enough the reverse is the case among children. Until the tenth year of boys and until the ninth year of girls the full-blood child is taller than the half-breed child, while beginning at this period the full-blood child lags behind. Thus it is shown that the rate of growth among the half-breeds is throughout greater than among the Indians. It would be interesting to carry out this comparison and to include the whites, but the social conditions of the latter are so different that the comparison cannot be made advantageously. The phenomenon that the half-breed children are shorter than the Indian children of the same age is found not only among the tall tribes, but also among those of middle stature. I am unable to say if it also exists among tribes of shortest stature, as I have not a sufficient number of half-breed children from tribes of the shortest stature at my disposal. The comparison of rate of growth of boys and girls of the same ages is also instructive. It is a well-known fact that for about three years, from the twelfth to the fourteenth year, white girls are taller than white boys. This period of superiority of growth of the former is marked very indistinctly among the North American Indians. It is a little more clearly defined among half-breeds, but not as distinct as among whites. The results regarding the growth of Indians are not quite satis- factory on account of the difficulty of obtaining information regard- ing the exact ages of Indian children. Only in comparatively few cases is the actual age of an Indian child known. In most cases it is THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 43 estimated more or less accurately by the observer and by the help of persons who are acquainted with the Indian families. As this is true of both Indians and half-breeds the same conditions aflfect both series and make the results of the investigations comparable. One point, however, must be borne in mind. The individuals composing the young classes are not comparable to the individuals composing the older classes, because in the former there are many who die before reaching the age represented by the latter class. We do not know if the measurements of the body are not in some way connected with the probability of death before a certain age. This objection holds good of the results of all investigations referring to growth which are obtained according to what Hertel calls the general method. I turn to the discussion of the distribution of stature in North America. On the whole, the North American Indians may be called a tall people. In studying the distribution of statures several difficulties are encountered. The tribes have changed their mode of life and their residence often. It is well known that stature depends to a great ex- tent upon surroundings. Therefore the stature which we observe at present cannot be transferred, as it were, to the region inhabited by the tribe under consideration even a short time ago. One of the most striking examples is furnished by the Cherokees. As well known, the bulk of this people was transferred to Indian Territory a number of years ago, while a certain number remained among the mountains of North Carolina. At present the stature of the latter people isdecidedy shorter than that of the Cherokee of the plains. Here we may have a good example of the effect of surroundings, but it may also be that the greater admixture of foreign blood among the people of the plains had the effect of raising their average stature. The same may be said of the Iroquois, Choctaws and Creeks, who are among the tallest tribes of North America. Looking at the continent as a whole, the tallest statures may be said to be found on the plains. The mountainous regions of the Southeast and of the West contain the people of the shortest stature. The whole Mississippi Valley is taken up by a very tall people. When we proceed further northward towards North Manitoba and the Saskatchewan, the statures become shorter. Great differences in size are also found north and south of the St. Lawrence River, the Mon- tagnais on the north side being very much shorter than the Micmacs on the south side. The Athapascan tribes of New Mexico are of middle stature only. Scattered among them we find the extremely short Pueblos. The Shoshone, Sahaptin and Salish tribes, of the Rocky 44 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Mountains, are of middle stature. As we approach the Pacific coast the distribution of statures becomes more irregular. The most remark- able facts in this region are the increase of exceedingly short statures on the coast of Southern British Columbia, on Puget Sound, in Oregon and in Northern California. With the exception of the Eastern Eskimo these people are decidedly the shortest among all the North Americans. It is very instructive to notice that among these tribes of short statures taller people extend along Columbia River to the Pacific Ocean. As the mode of life of these people is identical, we must consider them the descendants of a taller people. The distribution of statures in Northern California does not de- pend alone upon more or less favorable conditions. Thus the consid- erable difference between the tribes of Hoopa Valley and of Round Valley can hardly be explained by any other means than by assuming that the taller stature of the Hoopa is inherited. From a consideration of the distribution of statures in North America 1 turn to a discussion of the distribution of head forms. The principal proportion that has been considered in this connection is that between length and breadth of head, generally called the cephalic index. The study of the dis- tribution of the cephalic index in North America is made exceedingly difficult by the prevailing custom of using hard cradle boards. This has the effect of flattening the occiput and thus produces short heads where without the use of the hard cradle board long heads would be found. Besides this the tissues covering the occiput are so extremely thick among the Indians that it is very difficult to discover a moderate degree of flattening. The apparent frequency of short heads among the Winnebagos, Osages and Apaches is entirely due to artificial, although unintentional flattening. The comparison of head forms must therefore be restricted to regions where no deformation is found. The whole Mississippi Valley is inhabited by people whose cephalic index is approximately 79, that is to say, a mesocephalic people nearly approaching brachycephalism. Around the Great Lakes an increase in this index is found which disappears again further east. The Eastern Arctic coast is characterized by the prevalence of the long heads of the Eskimo. On the North Pacific coast and in isolated spots along the coast we find exceedingly short-headed types, mainly repre- sented by members of the Athapascan stock and extending down the Rio Grande to the Gulf of Mexico. Scattered between these we find another long-headed type, which seems to be most frequent in South- ern California, extending northward to the boundary of Oregon and THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 45 probably occupying the Sonora and the pueblos of Queres and Santa Clara, it is not possible to consider these four types as closely re- lated. Each of them is well characterized, and there seems no possi- bility of combining them with any of the other types. The best known among these types is that of the Eastern Eskimo. Besides the great length of head, they are remarkable for the great height of head and wide face combined with an exceedingly narrow nose. The Indian of the Misissippi Valley is characterized by a large head, meso- cephalic, with long occiput, wide and large face and wide nose. His color is light and assumes the so-called copper hue only after expos- ure to the sun and air. The brachycephalic type of the Pacific coast is at the same time short of stature, of light skin, with an enormously wide face and narrow nose, which is remarkably flat for an Indian nose. The Californian type is best known through a series of skulls from the Southern Californian islands. It is rather low, with narrow nose and moderately wide face. The distribution of cephalic indices among a few tribes deserves particular mention. The Micmacs of Nova Scotia show the pecu- liarity that very low indices occur much more frequently among them than among any other Indian tribe of the eastern part of North America. When we compare the distribution of indices among an- cient skulls from New England with the series of the Micmacs, it be- comes clear that both series are very much alike. As 1 stated before, indices as low as these are not found anywhere else except on the Arctic coast. I consider this conclusive evidence of an intermixture with Eskimo blood. It is well known that arch^ological facts tend to indicate that the Eskimo must have lived along the coast of New Eng- land at one time. It is therefore of interest to note that this conclu- sion is borne out by anthropological evidence. If we grant this point, the irregularity of distribution of the cephalic indices among the Mic- macs may also be considered as an argument in favor of the theory advanced above, that the intermixture of tribes does not produce a middle type. Another series of peculiar interest is that of the Ojibway and of the Menominee. In comparing the variability of the cephalic index of the various tribes from the Rocky Mountains eastward to the Great Lakes, we notice that there is a constant increase from west eastward. This means that among the western tribes most individuals are similar to the average individual, while among the eastern tribes the ditkrences among individuals composing the same tribe are greater. When plot- 46 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ting the cephalic indices of the Eastern Ojibways we find that the same index which is found farther west, namely 79, is the one most fre- quent, and that the index of 83 is also very frequent, while those indices lying between 79 and 83 are not as frequent. This peculiar fact exists in the series for men, women, boys and girls; therefore, there can be no doubt but that there must be some cause for it. By investigating more closely the distribution of indices among the West- ern Ojibway, it may be noticed that the index of 83 is still more frequent than it would be if the distribution followed the laws of chance. For this reason 1 conclude that there must have been among these tribes an intermixture of another tribe having an index of 83. It is difficult to decide who these people may have been, but it is certain that they must have been located around the Great Lakes. An investigation of the prehistoric skulls from this region shows that the index of 83 was very frequent at that time, so that we may be justified in the conclusion that we find here the surviving members of the prehistoric population of the region scattered among the present Indians. I will call attention here to the peculiar fact, that in several series of measurements of the cephalic index we find two maxima of frequency and a minimum of frequency between the two maxima. As the series at our disposal do not exceed two or three hundred, except in a very few cases, these minima of frequency might be con- sidered accidental. They occur, however, at the same point in the series of women, boys and girls. Therefore, we must conclude that their occurrence is not due to the limited number of observations, but to some actual reason. As mentioned before, this minimum is found .markedly in the distribution of the cephalic index of the Eastern Ojibway. It is just as strongly emphasized among the Sioux; but in this case the curve of the men dilTers considerably from that of women, boys and girls, there being only one maximum in the first curve. We find only a certain irregularity indicating that there are more individuals corresponding to the secondary maximum among women and children than would be expected in a probability curve. I consider these irregularities of the curves of considerable importance, as they show conclusively that anthropometric curves are not always probability curves. This is a matter of great theoretical importance, and must be considered in the statistical investigations of the characteristics of certain races. Wherever we find curves which show two maxima or which are not probability curves, we have no THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 47 right to consider the average as a type representing the people under consideration. In all such cases, a detailed discussion of their distri- bution is necessary to obtain satisfactory results. In order to give an instance: It is easily seen that if the biological law which I mentioned several times before in the present remarks is correct, — namely, that the offspring of ^ mixed race has a tendency to revert to the parental types and not to form middle types — then we must expect that in a mixed race, the composing elements of which show great differences, maxima of frequency of two certain forms must be found which resemble the forms of the ancestors and that one minimum is found representing the mixed form. If then we should interpret the observ- ations in such a way as to say that the average is the typical form of this series we should draw a wrong inference. The average in such a case would have no meaning whatever, while the two maxima would indicate the types composing the mixed race. If the two parental types do not differ very much, we should not find a distribution of forms showing two maxima, but the intermix- ture would have the result of producing a more variable race. We might, therefore, expect to find increased variability whenever two distinct types come into contact. There are several good examples of this kind. The Kootenay of the Rocky Mountains, who have intermarried with the Salish of British Columbia and Montana and with the Blackfeet of the Plains, are among the most variable of the North American tribes. I believe the cause of this phenomenon must be looked for in the fact that the Blackfeet are longheaded while the Salish are decidedly shortheaded. The Bella Coola of British Columbia occupy a similar position between the rather longheaded tribes of the coast and the shortheaded tribes of the interior. In this case, also, the effect is an increased variability. The same may be said of the tribes on the coast of Oregon. The distribution of types upon the Pacific coast deserves particu- lar discussion. Beginning at the Arctic coast we tlnd the longheaded Eskimo. The difference between this group of Eskimo and those of Eastern Arctic America is very remarkable. Their heads are decidedly shorter. As they adjoin all along the coast shortheaded people, it seems that the decrease of their cephalic index is due to the intermix- ture of Indian blood. While on the eastern coast of America \\e tind the characteristics of the Eskimo type to extend t6 a considerable dis- tance southward, on the Pacific coast this type ends apparently near the peninsula of Alaska. The Aleutians, although speaking a language 48 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. allied to the Eskimo, represent an exceedingly shortheaded type. This is true of the prehistoric skulls as well as of recent ones. Continuing down the coast, we find theTlingit of Southeastern Alaska, who repre- sent the same shortheaded type, which is evidently identical with the Athapascan type of the interior. At the southern boundary of Alaska the type suddenly changes, and we find a much shorter race, character- ized by longer heads, exceedingly wide faces and narrow, high noses. This type embraces all the coast tribes of British Columbia as far south as the central portion of Vancouver Island, with tne sole excep- tion of Bella Coola, which we mentioned before. In the southern portion of Vancouver Island there is another sudden change of type. Here we find one of the shortest races of North America, which is characterized by the most excessive brachycephalism, very low faces and flat noses. I have not been able to find any type which resembles it anywhere else in North America. The peculiarities of this type extend southward beyond the Columbia River, but at the same time the type represented by the Bella Coola and Tlingit re-appears and occupies the greater part of the coast as far south as Northern Cali- fornia. At this place we find another sudden change of type, brachy- cephalism changes again to dolichocephalism, the stature decreases, and the faces become narrower. I am rather inclined to believe that the type of the coast of British Columbia is closely related to this longheaded California type. This belief is based principally upon the similarity in the formation of the face. Unfortunately I have no material at my disposal from Nevada and California which would serve to carry on this sketch of the distribution of types on the Pacific coast, but what I have said will be sufficient to show how many prob- lems remain to be solved in this region. It would be an interesting problem to compare the distribution of types among prehistoric American races with those found among the living Indians. For this purpose the measurement of skulls of a number of collections have been tabulated, but the results of these investigations are very unsatisfactory, as in prehistoric times the custom of using the hard cradle board and the custom of artificial deformation was more extensive than at present. An attempt has been made to distinguish among the prehistoric skulls from Tennessee those which have been deformed and those which have almost their natural shape. The result shows that the least deformed skulls have a very much lower cephalic index than the general average, and I presume that if the exclusion of deformed skulls were carried out THE ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. 49 rigidly we should find this prehistoric people approximately to have the same index as the present population of the Mississippi Valley. On account of the great deformations the prehistoric skulls have a variability — that is, differences among themselves, which are in excess of anything that is observed at the present time. I have not been able to glean any important conclusions from the measurement of the face except the one fact, that the facial index becomes lower on the Pacific coast. " I hope the brief presentation of the results of our studies will show that Physical Anthropology otfers a promising field of study, and that another of the important biological questions which await an answer — The History of the American Race — will appear in a new light when all the physical characteristics of the various types are taken into consideration. THE ANTHROPOMETRY OF AMERICAN SCHOOL CHILDREN. BY GERALD M. WEST. THE World's Columbian Exposition has, among other things, been the occasion of the collecting of a mass of material rela- tive to the laws governing the development of children from the cities of Toronto, Canada, and Oakland, California. This material, with that gathered in Boston by Prof. H. P. Bowditch, in Milwaukee by Dr. Geo. Peckham, in St. Louis by Dr. Porter, and in Worcester, Mass., by the Anthropological Department of Clark University, under the direction of Dr. Franz Boas, has increased the material available for study and comparison to observations on ninety thousand individuals. The wide distribution of the material as to territory, Ontario and the northern and western portions of the United States being very fully represented, and the great diversity of the material as regards nationality and social conditions, add greatly to the interest and value of the results. This material, though quite as valuable, is of a differ- ent value from that collected in the various gymnasiums and schools of physical culture throughout the country, since in the latter case, except at the time of first entering, the subjects of observations are, if I may so speak, subject t6 an artificial rule completely under their own control, looking to a definite result, that is, the greatest possible sym- metrical development of the body. In the material here collected there is no such modifying cause, the individuals being left to develop as circumstances largely beyond their control may effect. The final re- sults of such two sets of observations might not be expected to har- monize very closely. The material has been arranged in the various ways best suited to bring out the contrast between the sexes and be- tween the various localities. First, with regard to stature and weight, the material has been combined to form a general curve showing the average development of the whole population by sexes with respect to these measurements. This has necessitated the laborious task of reducing a large part of the material either to a common age or a common unit of measurement. Next, the averages of the various cities have been compared with the 50 THE ANTHROPOMETRY OF AMERICAN SCHOOL CHILDREN. 5l general average and the results plotted. I have then compared the average stature of the girls of each year with that of the boys, both with respect to the general population and with respect to the popu- lations of the individual cities. There have also been taken into consideration the measurements not so generally made as the two preceding ones, /. e., of sitting height, and the measurements of the head and face, consisting of the length and breadth of head and face, and finally the indices, ceph- alic and sitting height. There is to be considered a very interesting com- parison between school children of each sex as to physical develop- ment in the light of their mental ability. The dilTerence in development among adult men and women seems to be the result of two causes, the rate of growth and the period of growth. These two factors seem to vary considerably with respect to locality, social condition, sex and nationality. The rate of growth varies slightly annually, and apparently there is a well-marked period of maximum annual increase for the curves of the averages, coming, subject to varying conditions, as sex, nation- ality, etc., somewhere between the tenth and the fifteenth years, and from one to two years earlier in the case of girls than in the case of boys. These ' ' shoots " seem to be the phenomena most character- istic of the various curves of growth. They are absent from none of them, although in some cases they are rather difficult to trace. This latter fact is due to the circumstance that the period of the shoot is not the same for every child, but varies with each individual to such an extent that in a curve of average of a large series the cases are so widely and regularly distributed as to smoothe the curve to nearly the appearance of a straight line. An example of this latter fact is shown most strikingly in the curve of growth of stature of the St. Louis school children measured by Dr. Porter. A comparison of the curves of growth of the two sexes is most interesting on account of the manner in which it brings out this phe- nomenon of the shoot. During a certain period, variable in time of beginning and in duration, girls approximate to or exceed the boys in the size of the corresponding parts of the body. The beginning of this period is determined by the time at which the shoot of the girls commences, while the termination of the period is the result of two causes, the actual diminution in the annual increment of the growth of girls and the increase in that of boys, /. c, the beginning of the boys' shoot. 52 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. A consideration of tlie distribution of cases in the various years is of value, as this varies with age, sex and race. The distribution of cases varies but slightly, though with a certain regularity, until the commencement of the period of the shoot, when it becomes to a mark- ed degree broader, contracting again after the cessation of that period. The measure of this distribution is the Mean Variation, which practi- cally corresponds in its limits with Galton's seventeenth and eighty- third percental grades. The period of duration of growth varies under the same con- ditions as does the rate of growth. It is much shorter in general among women than among men, and to this fact almost exclusively is to be assigned the diiference in stature, weight, etc., between adults of the two sexes, there being but little diiference in the average an- nual growth of the two sexes between the fifth and the seventeenth years, the latter period being the age at which women apparently reach their full physical development. In the case of men the period is much more extended, Baxter finding growth in stature to continue until the thirty-fifth year in the general population, Gould finding it to vary with the nativity between the twenty-third and the thirty- ninth years, the mean age being according to him the twenty*-fourth year. When we come to compare the average stature and weight of the school children of the various cities with that of the average popu- lation, we find striking differences. The Worcester children are mark- edly above the average in stature, while the Toronto and Boston children are almost as markedly at the opposite extreme. The Oak- land and St. Louis children also show opposite characteristics. The former, starting at five years of age below the general average, rise above it at the end of the period of growth, while the St. Louis chil- dren, starting above, fall below the average. The Milwaukee children represent more nearly the general average. There is also to be re- marked a striking difference between the curves of comparative stat- ure of the two sexes in the various cities. In Toronto, Milwaukee and Boston the comparative curves for the two sexes are near together. In St. Louis they are quite markedly separated after the fifteenth year, while in Oakland, and especially Worcester, the difference reaches its maximum. The variations in weight are much more strongly marked than are those of stature. Here again we find the ♦Thirty? THE ANTHROPOMETRY OF AMERICAN SCHOOL CHILDREN. 53 Toronto children the least well-developed and the Worcester children the best developed. Milwaukee and St. Louis show opposite tenden- cies, the former increasing and the latter decreasing weight with respect to the average. Boston occupies with reject to weight about the same position that Milwaukee does to the stature. They approach nearest to the general average. The comparative difference between the sexes is not so great here as in the case of stature, yet the ditfer- ences are sutfkiently marked, Worcester again showing the greatest and Toronto the least, the others being, in order of the least to the greatest diiference, Boston, St. Louis, Oakland and Milwaukee. When we compare the height of the girls in percents of the boys' statures of one city with those of other cities, we find remarkable dif- ferences both as to the relative height of the girls and the relative length of time they exceed the boys in stature. The whole range of percental difference between the cities from the sixth to the twelfth year is something less than three per cent. , at thirteen over six per cent. , returning again at the fourteenth year and continuing at the three per cent, limit until about the eighteenth year, when it sinks to about one-half per cent. The cities in whicn the girls are taller than the boys are, in the order of their height from least to greatest, Oakland, St. Louis, Mil- waukee, Boston, Toronto and Worcester. The length of time during which the girls are actually taller is, in Oakland, tive; Worcester, one, and in the other cities three years each. The Oakland girls exceed the boys in height by the tenth year, the Boston girls exceed the boys by the eleventh year, while in the other four cities the girls do not ex- ceed the boys until the twelfth year. The boys do not completely re- gain their supremacy in stature in Oakland and St. Louis until the sixteenth year, while in the other four cities this is regained by the fifteenth year. The plotting of the curves of distribution of weight and stature for the boys and girls from the ages of live to seventeen brings out well the comparative modifying effects of growth on the material. There is found to be but slight variation from the averages at the fifth year, but this variation increases quite rapidly, though regularly, annually, as is shown by the flattening of the curve, until we pass the age of accelerated growth, beginning at about eleven years for girls and thirteen for boys. From then on the curves again begin to in- crease their altitudes, quite regularly as before, until the adult age is reached. 54 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS Or ANTHROPOLOGY. A remarkable characteristic of these curves of distribution is the uniformly greater and increasing length of the upper arm of the curve until after the time of accelerated growth, indicating that the asym- metry is caused by the fact that there are some children growing at a rate greatly in advance of the average, while there are none who lag an equal distance behind the average. After the period of acceleration the curve rapidly loses its asymmetry, indicating a return to the con- ditions of uniformity prevailing in the earlier years. If we compute the mean dilTerences between the general average and the averages for the six American cities in weight and stature, we find that until about the eleventh year the children develop with comparative uniformity, but from that age the modifying etTects of descent and surroundings are beginning to act, causing the mean dif- ference to increase very markedly. A very valuable point is brought out with respect to the effect of school life on the physical develop- ment of children by the Toronto measurements. These children were arranged into two classes, "good" and "poor," with respect to their mental ability, and the annual averages formed for the two classes as for the general population. The resulting averages are compared with the city's general average and the differences plotted. The diagram in- dicates that the "poor" scholars are almost invariably the better de- veloped. The difference is naturally more marked in stature than in weight. The probable explanation for this is that the children ad- judged more able by their teachers give more time to study and less time to play than do the children of the other class. That the effect of the annual rate of growth is of greater impor- tance than that of the length of the period of growth in determining the adult stature of a community in comparisons among the same sex, I think is quite conclusively shown by Dr. Boas' charts, showing the curves of growth of the children of the three groups of Indians into which he has divided his material. They are classified as " tall," "medium" and "short," according to the average stature of the adult males. In these groups we find the period of growth to be practically the same, while the annual increment is less for each group in the order named. While the evidence is not so strong in the case of the material gathered from the American schools, it is nevertheless strongly in the same direction. The Worcester children, who are largely of American descent and of the tallest race, are tallest during their years of growth, while the children of the other cities, who are much more largely of foreign descent, and generally of a shorter race, THE ANTHROPOMETRY OF AMERICAN SCHOOL CHILDREN. 55 and with the period of growth varying but sHghtly in length from that of the Worcester children, have a much smaller annual incre- ment. Further, we seem to find, on comparing children of foreign descent born in this country with children of the same descent born in the na- tive land of their parents, that the children born here are taller and generally better developed. We have, therefore, two well-defined and antagonistic elements going to modify the development of children : the one conservative (heredity), the other progressive (environment). We find the effect of heredity in the persistence of the same ditferences in stature, between children of ditferent nationalities under similar circumstances, as appear under the ditferent circumstances of their various native lands. We find the etfect of the favorable environment in the increase of the stature of the children in America over children of the same race in their native land. The unfavorable effects of environment are shown by the ditference in stature between children of the same race in the same country, as is so well brought out by Roberts in his in- vestigation carried on in England, where he divided the material ac- cording to the prevailing castes. Bowditch has also remarked this in Boston, where he made a somewhat similar comparison. In the case of sitting height we have two series not exactly com- parable, but generally so. These are the Worcester series and the St. Louis series. The St. Louis measurements are arranged around the full year, i. e. , all the individuals within six months of a given age are thrown together as being of that age. (The children between five and a half and six and a half are grouped as of six years of age. ) The Worcester children are grouped within the respective years, /. e., children between six and seven years of age are grouped as if six years of age. We see, therefore, that the Worcester children are for each year half a year older than the St. Louis children of the same apparent age. Considering the Worcester curve first, we find the girls and boys to be about the same length of body at five years of age, but the boys grow a little more rapidly, apparently, than the girls between six and eight years, giving them the superiority which they retain until about the eleventh year. At the eleventh year the girls make a rapid advance, pass beyond the boys and continue in advance of them until the fifteenth year, when the boys have regained their superiority. Six- teen seems to be the point of maximum develdpmcnt in the length of 56 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. body among Worcester girls. The boys' development continues for some time thereafter. On examining the St. Louis curves we find that the boys are markedly taller than the girls until nearly the twelfth year, when girls shoot past them and are taller until the seventeenth year, by which time the girls have almost ceased growing. On comparing the facts developed by these two sets of curves we find that, while in the very early years, in both cities, the boys are generally of greater length of body than the girls, later the girls become superior. The Worcester girls begin their shoot about a year earlier than do the St. Louis girls and lose their superiority about a year and a half sooner. The Wor- cester girls seem also to reach their full development in this direction a year or two the earlier, the Worcester girls at about sixteen years and the St. Louis girls at about eighteen years. On examining the curves of the index of height sitting, — the length of the body expressed in percents of the stature, — we find them both exhibiting a decided minimum. The boys' curve is above the girls from about seven to eleven years, but thereafter the girls curve is considerably the higher. It would seem from this that up to the eleventh year the boys' length of body grows more rapidly in comparison to the stature than does the girls', but after that age the girls' body grows proportionately the more rapidly. We find that the lowest point reached by the girls' curve is at about twelve years of age, while the lowest point reached by the boys is about fifteen. This indicates that, in girls until the age of twelve years and in boys until fifteen, the lower limbs grow more rapidly than the body, but that after that period the body grows more rapidly. The lower limbs throughout grow more rapidly in boys than in girls, and the body in girls than in boys. The measurements of the head will next engage our attention. First is the length of head — the greatest anterior-posterior diameter through the glabella. The curves for the Worcester and Toronto children show a con- tinuous but somewhat irregular rise throughout the growth period. The boys' measurements are, contrary to what we have found in the other measurements considered, greater at all times than those of the girls. There is, however, a suggestion of the phenomenon of crossing in the near approach of the two curves at about the ages of thirteen or fourteen. The girls seem to complete their development at about the THE ANTHROPOMETRY OF AMERICAN SCHOOL CHILDREN. 57 seventeenth year, while the boys continue to grow for some time / after. The width of head— the greatest transverse diameter — shows phenomena in no respect different from those of the length of head. The boys have the greater diameter, and the diameter continues to grow for a considerable period after that of the girls has ceased. The nearest approach is between the thirteenth and sixteenth years. The cephalic index is the expression of the width of head in terms of the length. Its curve shows considerable irregularities, but with a general tendency to fall from the tifth year until the final cessation of growth. The fall of the curve indicates that the length develops more rapidly than the width of head. The whole range of both curves is contained within three per cent., the boys having a slightly greater range than the girls. These curves bring out the fact that, as a rule, the girls have broader heads in comparison to the length than do the boys. They are both mesocephalic at all ages. This seems to show that the ceph- alic index is practically constant throughout life, and, therefore, in computing this index age will not be a factor to be considered. The face measurement: the width of face, — greatest distance from the external surface of one zygomatic bone to that of the other, — brings to view more strongly than in the two preceding measurements the phenomenon of crossing — this occurs between the ages of twelve and fourteen years, except during that time the boys' faces are the broader. If we compare the width of face of the girls and boys to the length of head, we find that until about the sixteenth year the girls' faces are comparatively broader. The continual rise of the curve shows that the width of the face develops more rapidly than the length of head. Comparing the width of face to the width of head shows that here also the width of face of the girls is comparatively broader at all times, except perhaps at the sixteenth year. This curve is much steeper than the curve of breadth of face to length of head, indicating that width of face grows not only more rapidly than the width of head, but more rapidly in proportion to the width of head than the length of head. It seems, therefore, that the development of the face is greater in the girls than in the boys, in comparison to the develop- ment of the brain case. It is, unfortunately, impossible to compare directly the results obtained in these head and face measurements already discussed with 58 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. those obtained in St. Louis, owing to the fact of the St. Louis material having been computed and arranged on a somewhat diflferent plan, but these results do not in the least contradict the showing of the Worcester and Toronto material. There is, however, one thing to which attention should be called, that is, to the ditference between the cephalic index of the two groups of children. Among the Worcester- Toronto children we have found the cephalic index practically to be between 78 and 80, with an almost continuous downward tendency of the curve from the fifth year to maturity. Among the St. Louis chil- dren the curves range between 78 and 82. There is a decided upward sweep from the sixth to about the eleventh year, and then a much more emphatic fall than in the Worcester curve. The boys seem to have the broader heads between 15 and 17, while at other times their heads are decidedly the narrower. Comparing the measurements of the head and face to the stature, we find first that in comparison to their stature the length of head of boys is greater than that of girls until the fifteenth year, when their re- spective comparative lengths change places, and we find the girls' heads becoming suddenly the larger and continuing so throughout life. These statements apply also to the comparison of the width of head to stature, with this one exception, that is, that here again we find, strangely enough, the phenomenon of crossing which is so character- istic of the curve of the absolute measurements. The boys' curve passes below the girls' from the tenth to about the twelfth year. The boys' curve passes permanently below the girls' about half a year earlier than in the case of the length of head to stature. The curves of width of face to stature show more resemblances to the curves of width of head to stature than to the curves of length of head to stature. The differences are that the preliminary intercrossing of the curves is at about eleven years of age, and the final intercrossing is at fifteen, somewhat later than in either of the preceding cases. In the St. Louis curves of these same comparisons we find the same characteristics brought out, though in not so marked a manner. In the curves of the comparisons of width of head and width of face to stature the curves nearly touch at eleven years of age, but do not cross. The time of final crossing is, as in Worcester, fifteen for the width of face to stature and sixteen for the other two curves, a year and a half later than is the case in Worcester. ARCHAEOLOGY. 69 ARCH/EOLOGY. THE DISCOVERY OF AN ARTIFICIALLY FLAKED FLINT SPECIMEN IN THE QUATERNARY GRAVELS OF SAN ISIDRO, SPAIN. BY H. C. MERCER. THE hills of stratified gravel at the hamlet of San Isidro, on the right bank of the Mazanares, opposite Madrid, have for some time ranked with St. Acheul and Abbeville, Thetford and Hoxne, as among the sites noted in Europe for the demonstration by discovered human remains of a quaternary maker of " paleoliths" — of a man who, as there, the contemporary of fossil elephants, chipped, but could not polish, stone. Where the gravel quarry of Eusebio Cubero and the Carrena Sacerdotal have sliced down several hills near the San Isidro ceme- teries, the prominent yellow exposures, reaching up 40 metres above the present Mazanares water level, catch our eye as we leave the To- ledo gate. Here Signor de Prado speaks of artificially chipped flints having been found about 1850, since which time numerous observers and students have visited the place. De Prado in his drawing divides the deposit, judged by the appearance and kind of the stratitied bands, into three layers, and after discussing, as others have done, its manner of deposition, whether due to glacial or non-glacial agencies, says that it rests on a bed of tertiary marl. Either he or M. de Verneuil, who afterwards visited the spot, first realized that the chipped objects, which, however, neither say they found in place with their own hands, resembled the Abbeville specimens. Signor Villanova, continually visiting San Isidro with his pupils, speaks of more " implements" and fossils, but notes no personal dis- covery. He denies that De Prado's triple subdivision is correct and produces a cut of his own. De Mortillet publishes another, generally resembling De Prado's, but noting an evolution from the bottom np- 62 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. wards in the forms of implements discovered. This M. Cartailhac reproduces in his recent work on Spain, in which he speaks of obtain- ing an implement, though not with his own hand. Without going into details here as to these accounts, the chief ones, I believe, thus far published (with one possible exception to be noted), two facts are plain as to the testimony of previous observers. 1. They agree that the gravels lying upon tertiary marl are quaternary in age. As to the manner of their deposition, whether enormous freshets in the Mazanares laid them down, whether cross- country deluges from melting glaciers whirled them into place, whether the more immediate down-melting of ice-crusts rolled them where they are, there seems to be difference of opinion, but these dis- cussions need not concern us if we learn from another source that the age of the deposit is fixed, that they contain quaternary fossils; and here the authorities referred to are all agreed. No matter how the gravels were laid down, they are of the same age as the quaternary bones they contain. 2. The next point gleaned from these previous observers is that they have attempted to subdivide the gravels into epochal layers, and have disagreed about it, and therefore have differed with regard to the relative age and relative position of the fossils and flints said to have been discovered. Have we three separate and distinct layers, or two, or only one? As we stand before the splendid exposure at the Euse- bio Cubero quarry, marveling and confused at the painted bands of sand, pebbles, clay and marl, how shall we subdivide the oft-recurring stripes, now red or green, now yellow or white, now contorted, now level, that confront us? If by the test of paleontology, which has been almost denied to us at Trenton, then there ought to be continual recurrence of particular fossils in particular layers. If by the less sure test of geology alone, then there ought to be certain and invariable qualities in particular layers, to distinguish them one from another; but, unfortunately for San Isidro, thus far authorities agree neither as to the position of the fossils nor as to the position and kind of the layers. So both tests fail, and we are left still to ask whether any subdivisions in time at all can be made out in the laying-down of the deposit, and whether, so far as such differences concern anthropology, it ought not to be considered a homogeneous mass throughout. This brings us to one further point noted in the series of previous observations, which is that — 3. There is no distinct statement in the above accounts (save ARTIFICIALLY FLAKED FLINT OF SAN ISIDRO. 63 the one to be referred to) of either fossil or "implement" having been found by the describer in place with his own hands, and we can- not help inferring that most, if not all, the chipped specimens have been obtained, as I obtained mine at Abbeville, and as I am informed that nine out of ten in France have been obtained, from workmen. With these considerations forced upon us by a study of the place, we are discouraged. Everything is vague, contradictory and indetinite. For want of solid foundation the editice of early human development at this interesting spot seems to be crumbling away, and we are willing to give up layers successive in time, to give up epochs of evolution in stone flaking, if we can only find a chipped tlint or a fossil that we can be sure of somewhere in the gravels. It was in this state of mind that I saw the specimen here shown, on December 30th, 1892, protruding for about one inch of its base from the perpendicular face of the Carena Sacerdotal, nearest the cemetery. As 1 could not reach it from the path that skirted the bluti' on top of the talus, I made a foothold in the hard sand, and, standing in it, as I held on to a frozen seam, pried and gouged at it with a piece of lath. Only its rough base showed, and I could not recognize it as arti- ficial until, after nearly fifteen minuses of scratching, grasping and pulling, the frozen sand gave it up and 1 held it in my hand. Mr. Stewart Culin, my companion of the morning's expedition, and our assistant with the camera were then at the Eusebio Cubero quarry, a quarter of a mile away, and I ought to have called them both before I pulled out the specimen, but I did not, nor did I leave it in its matrix, as a workman was looking at me, but carried it around the hill, found Mr. Culin, showed it to him, returned with him and replaced it, so that, standing below on the talus at about a hundred feet away, he could clearly see its general relation to the stratified lines. Then I climbed the hill from behind and measured its depth — 1 metre 80 — below the surface. Removing it again, we went to luncheon, to return in an hour with our assistant Igiesias and photograph it several times, and on the following day, as the matrix was still intact, I again returned and made the plaster cast of the cavity, now in the University of Penn- sylvania's museum. In my subsequent study of the spot, Signor Villanova being ill , I was accompanied by Signor Quiroga, curator of the zoological department of the Natural History Museum in Madrid, who very 64 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. kindly helped me measure the various cuts, and remove from the face of one of them what I had suspected was a fragment of brick, but which turned out to be a piece of porphyry. Neither he nor I, though I had examined the gravel cuts of Tren- ton, Abbeville, St. Acheul and Chelles, could lay claim to trained geological discrimination, so that, aware of the sincere doubts that have arisen and the need of extreme accuracy, 1 asked myself the following questions: 1. Was the gravel stratified? Yes. Several clearly defined lines or stripes of coarse pebbles ran along the cut's face at varying depths, some nearer the surface than the specimen. Because these could be traced continuously, and sometimes around the corners of the perpendicular exposure; because the specimen was only 1.80 metres down, and because the hill-top, save for a few ancient rubbish heaps, was level and unbroken to the extreme brink, it followed that the ob- ject was neither in mixed talus nor in one of those down-faulted areas such as I saw over a " puit" at Abbeville, where the whole bank had moved downward, but preserved its stratification. 2. Had the specimen been artificially intruded from above.? Potsherds and charcoal, we soon found, strewed the surface of the hill- top, penetrating to the depth of at least a foot through the surface loam. A geologically modern people had therefore dwelt there. Had they, by digging holes or otherwise, intruded their remains into the gravel ? Yes, they had, and we were at first startled to find, at a distance of 45 metres to the north of the flint, some bits of bone and potsherds bedded in the gravel fully as deep as, if not deeper than, our speci- men. For a long time we worked at the spot, but when the now thawed sand on both sides was pared clean with shovels, the V-shaped outline of a pit extending from the surface down, full of blackened earth, loam, charcoal and the objects above noted, about four feet in diameter and seven feet deep, was plain. No lingering doubt remained in our minds as we walked away 100 yards and saw the black notch painted clear against the reddish brown, and as, returning again, we saw clearly the undisturbed sand and one of the pebble lines end on one side of the intrusion and begin again on the other. When Manuel Cubero, son of the lower-quarry owner, took us to his house and showed us the fragments of a pot, which he said he had found at a similar depth in another cut since dug away, we were not surprised. No better chance, we thought, could have offered to ^1 I n 1 1B| .« ^^^^^^^^^^^^H 1 ^^B ^^^^H RP i 1 ^K 1 H • A . 'i, ^ I 1 i '*^M li ^^^^^^^^^^^^^K,- ^ '^HH I^^L-H J 1 ' ■ ^^m SPBP!^^^ ' m ■ ■ Specimen found Dec. 31, 1892, at the Carrena Sacerdotai,, San Isidro, Madrid. •^' .^s^V. •rsTl The Gravei. Exposure at the Carrena Sacerdotal. (The boy points to the specimen protruding from the gravel as found Dec. 31, 1892.) ARTIFICIALLY FLAKED FLINT OF SAN ISIDRO. 65 enable us to study artificial intrusion, and decide whether or not the flint object had found its way down by a similar means. When, however, we returned to the site of the specimen, we found that it was on a level with the longest of the pebble stripes, but that the latter faded away to the right of it about five feet before reaching it; that another similar pebble line began again somewhat higher and about six feet to the left, running around the bluff, and that a third more confused series of coarse lines began still higher and farther to the right. Not one of these stripes, therefore, ran directly over the specimen; while, on the other hand, none ended abruptly. Between the specimen and the surface there was about 1.3o metres of homo- geneous red sand. Where I had pared this clean at the intrusive notch, 1 had found no fine waved lines in it. I ought to have pared it again over the specimen, but I did not, contenting myself with a close inspection from the top of a ladder. If a hole had been dug from above, at the pottery epoch, the conditions of the other intrusion, 1 believed, would have been to some extent repeated; some of the black loam, if nothing else, would have shown in the sand; but it did not. As to the other doubts: 3. Did the specimen slide down and become reset in a pasty scum on the face of the cut.? No. While I admit that an arrow- head or small chip might keep glued to furrows in the perpendicular wall, as it trickled down, to halt occasionally at the command of frost or heat, this object was too heavy. It must have tumbled. 4. Had the specimen slipped into the cavity of an uprooted tree? Hardly. A tree large enough to let it down 1.80 metres, by up-root- ing, would have had to grow, I believe, after the forming of some of the surface loam. If it had, then some of the loam would have fallen into the hole with the specimen. But, as noted before, there was no loam or trace of the surface layer to be seen. 5. Had it come down by an earthquake fissure, a tap-root hole, or an animal burrow? It seemed to me that the former, though I have never seen one, would have faulted the pebble lines noted, and all these apertures, if of the pottery period, would have let down loam. But there was, as remarked before, no loam-darkened hole outline on the face of the cut, and no loam particles stick to the sand- capped cast of the matrix, now in my possession, to indicate any bur- row or fissure running in diagonally from behind. So the possibility of these and all other apertures, natural or artificial, comes down here 66 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. to one test at last — the test of loam. As there was no loam, we reasonably thnik there was no aperture during the age of loam. But what if there were apertures when the gravel was homogeneous to the top; when nature had as yet laid no covering over the bleak strand.? If there were apertures then, who shall now detect their trace, though even as to these " ifs" we would not be left in the dark, had we found its lines of stratification run directly over the specimen. We will therefore keep the " ifs," for so convinced am I of the value of clean-cut lines of stratification that I do not complain if this specimen is ruled out, or kept waiting for corroboration, because I did not find them clean, clear and unmistakable, streaking the bank above the resting-place. So much for this discovery. Now one word as to recent cor- roboration. M. L, Siret, of the Ecole d'Anthropologie, Paris, says briefly in U Anthropologie for August, 1892, p, 403: " San Isidro is known; I have finished studying the bed, making cuts, and ' retirant de mes mains,' a certain number of flints and quartzites in place. I cannot affirm that but one layer contains chipped objects, but it is very rich: I speak of the three upper metres, where Chellean, Mousterian and even Solutrean forms are together." When 1 first heard of this, after my return to America, I hoped to have been able to compare notes with M, Siret, but the president of the Ecole d'Anthropologie informs me in a recent letter that he has heard of no further or more definite publication by him upon the subject. Finally, as to the object itself, granting it to have been found in place: Is it a finished implement, showing the best work its maker could or would do, or is it an unfinished implement, whose m^ker might have chipped out under favorable circumstances a better thing.? To answer questions of this sort, we set to work in America to study the stone-chipping processes of the modern Indian, whose work- shops and quarries had so long lain unnoticed under our eyes. And it soon became apparent that we could no longer gather specimens of this sort upon the surface here and call them " paleoliths," for we found beyond a doubt that the geologically modern Indian habitually and incessantly made them. When next we found that he littered the refuse of his blade- material quarries, we knew why he made them. They were " wast- ers," abandoned because unfit for thinning down into certain kinds of finer blades common at the village sites. ARTIFICIALLY FLAKED FLINT OF SAN ISIDRO. 67 Still keeping to our village sites and quarries, and marveling at the number of these once mysterious objects that turned up every- where, we felt disposed to call them all — if of American Indian pedi- gree — "rejects," until a careful study of certain new sites, and the valuable discovery, by Mr. Ernest Volk, of two well-arranged caches of them, buried in the ground in layers, and therefore not discarded, made us realize that certain of the rough-looking ones were not *' rejects" after all. But if we gave up the right always to say " reject " to these Indian stones, we held on to the right to say " unfinished implement," and, still judging from them and the class of work they represented, were led for a time to suspect that a chipped implement, to be finished, needs to be specialized. When, however, we realized that Professor Joseph Leidy had seen Ute Indians knocking disc-like flakes from pebbles at a single blow, to be used as "teshoas," or hide-scrapers, and found similar discs with the pebbles from which they had been knocked at many village sites on the Delaware and Susquehanna, and again saw others somewhat modified as if for hafting, from the shores of Lake Michi- gan, and when we compared these American teshoas with Easter Island knives, Admiralty Island and Australian gum-hafted blades, that were only chips not specialized at all, yet finished implements, we had to give up the test. Still it was a good deal to have the pedigree of so many of these rude Indian-made objects, and we are still casting about to see what they may have to tell us of the general principles which underlie the art of chipping stone in general throughout the past of all man- kind. Meanwhile new facts come to light. We now learn that there are " turtlebacks " and " turtlebacks " — turtlebacks of the quarry and turtlebacks made at the riverside of material there at hand. And more digging tells us that to find a " turtleback " does not necessarily infer the status of culture of a people who had discovered and worked quarries, for it seems that we have reason to suspect from certain evi- dence that the Indian chipped " turtlebacks " on the Delaware before he made the broad, thin blades. Yet it was for the sake of these we supposed that the quarry work had been done. If, then, as to the geologically modern North American Indian, we may not yet vouchsafe to fully solve the problem of these rude stones, how shall we otTer to characterize as finished or unfinished 68 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. this other, which, if no mistake has been made, belongs to a remote time upon another continent? We are but on the threshold of a large subject. Excavation is what we need, and identification of specimens with fixed geological horizons. Evidently we must make haste slowly. ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS: A Study m the History of Technography . BY OTIS T. MASON. A MECHANIC is one who is skilled in the use of tools, who works habitually in some kind of material to shape it, who makes thereof something useful. He is, therefore, an artisan or arti- ficer. He practices always some kind of elaborative industry, by which materials are changed in form to adapt them to the use of others. Finally, he is a utilitarian. His works are designed to supply some need. As distinguished from an artist, who works in order to give pleasure, this man toils to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to house the shelter- less, to enable all mankind to do their work, whatever it may be. The modern mechanic is absolute master of the earth. There is little that he cannot lift, remove, dissolve, penetrate, transform. A cata- ogue of his tools and appliances would define all the trades and industries of the world. All the material resources of the earth, min- eral, vegetal, animal, are his. The winds, the waters, the fire, the sunlight, the lightning are his servants. He understands the nature and transformations of forces, the constitution and molecular activi- ties of matter, the nature of living beings. He has devised means of multiplying himself, of converting space and time and weight, one into the other. And now he dreams of new applications of force and combines with his fellows to construct and govern society. The most favored nations have not always been so blest but the mechanic, like every other product of nature or of culture is the result of many evo- lutions. The first of them had a poorly furnished workshop. "His body," as Emerson says, " was a whole chest of tools." But he had not the knack of using them. He was naked and houseless. His needs, out of which all arts in all ages spring, were few. His mission was to subdue the earth and to redeem it. Compared with his prog- eny of our day, he would seem an object of pity. But his brain was superabundant. His soul was full of capacities. He was the father of us all. 69 70 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. In studying the history of technography, the first question that arises relates to the terrestrial resources and conditions wherein the arts of man are to be developed. The globe is not homogeneous for this purpose. There are regions in which the only stimulus to labor is hunger, and in some of them the banana, the bread-fruit or the date tree holds out its bountiful hand and begs men to partake with- out an effort. Other regions of this class are more poorly provided with food products, and the search is there more stimulating. In a second class of regions the stimuli are hunger and danger. Besides the quest for food there are lurking beasts to avoid, to kill; or, in later times, there are enemies on the war-path. This class of regions would stimulate to food-quest and defense. A third class of regions present a variable climate; cold and heat, wet and dry seasons create new pains, drive to new activities, and the quest becomes one for food, defense, clothing and shelter. A fourth class of regions add to the resources and characteristics just mentioned this one, that the people can live in one part of it in one season, say on the banks of rivers, but they must move to another part of it in another season. Here the activity of migration is added to the others, and if this be partly by land and partly by water, the foundations are laid for the modern arts of transportation and con- veyance. A fifth class of regions happily is furnished by Nature with some plant or animal which yields readily to cultivation. It is easier and more profitable to plant the crop or to rear and tend the herd of these than it is to reap the wild seed or chase the wild game. Herein is a stimulus to agriculture and the domestication of animals. How favored such regions were in the old, old days none will ever know, for the record is lost in prehistoric times. The present study has reference to the mechanics of the two Am- ericas before the discovery by Columbus. We shall inquire into the materials upon which they worked, the tools and mechanical appli- ances which they invented and used, the products of their industries so far as they have been gathered from the graves of the past and taken from the hands of the present Indians. In conclusion, a few words may be said concerning the grade of culture indicated by these works and the relationship which may be found between trades, on the one hand, and language, nationality and environment, on the other. The tool of the artisan is fitted to the hand; but to the scru- tinizing glance of the student it is just as nicely fitted to its environ- ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 71 ment, to the work which it has to perform, to the grade of industrial education which the owner has reached, to the genius of his people, and even to their language and mythology. The director of a large museum, on examining an implement new to him, is quite as likely to fix his attention upon the region, or the work to be done, or the standing of the owner, as upon his blood or nationality. The conti- nent of America was largely the director of the arts of the aborigines. To study the mechanics of America, one may classify them, by the material in which they operated, as workers in stone, clay, wood, fiber and so forth. Or we may class them by the things they made, as bowyers, fletchers, boat-builders, potters, basket-makers, skin- dressers, bread -makers, and the like. A third plan is to disregard the workman to a certain extent and give attention to the apparatus and the methods employed in given operations, whatever may be the material or the product. For the present study this method may be chiefly employed. The aboriginal American mechanics had to do with tools, with mechanical powers, with metric apparatus, with engineering, with natural forces, and, to a limited extent, with machinery. The exam- ination of these will be instructive in the history of the evolution of industry, for, while the savages of this continent have contributed very little to the mechanics of the world, their tools and methods and results bear a close resemblance to those of our own ancestors and to other now cultured peoples when they were in this part of their indus- trial curriculum. The tools of the people we are now considering belonged to the following classes: 1. Tools for cutting, with some sort of edge, or, as we say, edged tools. 2. Tools for abrading and smoothing the surfaces of substances, like our planes, rasps and sandpaper. 3. Tools for striking, that is, pounding for the sake of pound- ing, or for crushing and fracturing violently. 4. Perforating tools. 5. Devices for grasping and holding firmly. The action of the hand or hands in using these various classes of tools decides their form and mode of action. For instance, the cutting or edged tool, working by steady pressure, becomes a knife or a plane; working by a blow, becomes a chisel, or ax, or adze; and, held and operated on edge for the purpose of bisecting something, is a saw; though, in the latter case, the operation is rather through an abrasion. 72 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. The abrading and smoothing tools, according to the method of holding and working, when they cut away material by the edge or point, are scrapers and gravers; when they abrade over their entire surface they act as rasps or sandpapers; when they are employed to put an edge or point upon tools, they replace our whetstones or grind- stones, if they act by friction. Finally, these rubbing tools may act to smooth and crease the surface of the material, without taking away any of the substance at all. The class of striking, fracturing, crushing implements, when act- ing by a sudden movement and producing a shock, are hammers or mauls, but, used in a mortar on paint, or tobacco, or foodstuffs, they become pestles. But the .latter class, when they are moved horizon- tally, and have broader surfaces, are termed mills, metates, muUers. Finally, in this fracturing class, working by pressure, is a wonderful art, now almost extinct except among the glaziers and flint-knappers, and that is the breaking of flinty stones by pressure. The aboriginal flint-workers throughout the world carried this craft to its highest perfection. The class of tools for making holes by a blow, such as punches struck with a hammer, are not common among savages, but sharp sticks weighted with stones, and poles shod with spuds of ivory, are common. Awls, needles and prickers, pushed by the hand; gimlets, or something answering thereto, worked by a reciprocating motion; and drills, kept in motion by strings, were all developed in savagery. For such devices as pincers and vises the primitive tribes have their substitutes. The handy tools of our day do not change the mode of action, they do not add many new ideas out and out. They substitute better material, work more rapidly and introduce co-opera- tion in their action. They are more often now driven by power rather than by hand. But the American mechanic before the days of Columbus had a respectable tool-chest, as his works will testify. The knives, shears, planes, axes, adzes, chisels, gouges and saws of the aborigines of the Western continent were of stone for the most part. The use of teeth, shell and copper for such purposes was lim- ited. Bronze may have sparingly entered into the list of cutting tools among the advanced nations. For cutting, the Americans used both chipped and polished implements, and had a great variety of forms for working in hides or wood, or in ivory, antler, horn, slate and such hard materials. These tools were best developed in the ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 7} places where the best material abounded, such as British Columbia or the West Indies. The second class of tools in America were also largely of stone. Scrapers, gravers, rasps, whetstones and grindstones are to be seen in abundance in all collections. The modern tribes, however, in addition to all these, use the leaves of grasses containing silex, skins of fishes, edges of shells, the incisor teeth of the beaver and other rodents, and many of these do excellent execution. For polishing the surfaces of pottery and other work the finest stones were used. Oils and paints and varnishes, and even lacquers, were employed to give to wood-work a finished appearance. The American hammer for driving wedges and tent-pins, for crush- ing bones, softening rawhide, breaking stone and ore, varied in size according to use, but did not differ from those in use on the same spot in our day except that the handle never passed through the poll. It always grasped it. The hammer-stone, a flat disc of hard material, for hammering stone, was also universal. After Mr. McGuire's successful experi- ments with this tool and his writings on the subject it is only neces- sary for me to refer you to his publications. Mortars for paint, tobacco and food, and metates for food and clay and chocolate, are to be found in all latitudes. From a hole in a natural bowlder, in which an elongated pebble was worked, to the intricate California acorn-grinding apparatus, with its exquisite bask- etry hopper, or to a Mexican metate, tastefully carved, there are sev- eral grades of technical education, filled by the triturating and rubbing apparatus of other tribes. There were no mills in America four hun- dred years ago, turned either by man or beast. The grinding was done with metates and in mortars. For making holes, the implement of chief importance is universal, namely, a sharpened bone, used as a marling-spike is employed by sailors. The skin-sewer and the basket-maker could not do without it, and hundreds of examples are found in their graves. Men, for making holes, used the ice-pick of ivory, gimlets of bone and flint, but the drill was also universal. It was found in three forms: the pump-drill, the strap-drill, the bow-drill. The shaft was weighted as in a spindle, the point was of stone, or wood, or copper, for various uses, and sand was employed by the stone-cutter to enforce his drill. For grasping hot stones, the American mechanics used tongs of wood, and in lieu of vises and strong pincers they resorted to the 74 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. shrinking of vegetable fiber and of rawhide. They made a kind of clamp of two stout bits of wood, wrapped the two ends with spruce- root or rawhide, wet, and allowed it to dry. In this way the parts of a box could be held until they were sewed. , For nails and screws, the Western mechanics employed "tree- nails " and ail sorts of rope and twine and sinew cord and rawhide string. They also made excellent glues and cements, from both veg- etal and animal substances. For tightening a joint, they knew how to take advantage in the twisting of a rope. The power that can be put into a half-inch sinew-rope, by means of a trusty lever, is very great. The Eskimo bow is thus tightened. These mechanics were well versed in the use of fire as a tool, excavating and bending wood thereby, and, among some tribes, the bow was rendered more elastic in this manner. The ingenuity of the American mechanic in hafting his tools and bringing them to their work cannot be overlooked. In this study the arch^ologist must learn of the ethnologist. The study of hafting must take into consideration the grip and the attachment. The grip of the implement may be a part of the object itself, or it may be a separate piece fastened on. In the Eskimo scrapers, women's knives, men's knives, throwing-sticks and harpoons, the greatest care was taken to have the grip so fit the hand and fingers that the greatest force and dexterity could be used in operating them. For attaching the handle to its object the following devices were employed: 1. A straight handle to which the working piece was seized. Ex- ample — Some kinds of arrows. 2. Same as No. 1 , only the working piece was laid alongside a shoulder, or in a groove or mortise. Example — Harpoons, spears, arrows, chisels. 3. The grip has a longitudinal groove cut out and the working part driven in. Example — Women's knives. 4. The handle cut from a tree, so as to preserve a part of the trunk for attaching the working part. Example — Ice-picks, adzes. 5. Grooved working parts, so that the handle could be bent around or in some way lashed thereto by a rawhide. Example — Axes, mauls. 6. Perforated handles. Example— Celts (Carib). 7. Perforated working parts. Example — Arrow-straighteners. The MECHANICAL powers, in theorder of their simplicity, are the inclined plane, the -wed^e, lever, the roller, the pulley, the wheel and ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 75 axle, and the screu\ These devices for converting time and weight and velocity into momentum, and for changing the direction and char- acter of momentum, are at the foundation of the modern intricate machinery. But the simplest forms of all these useful things were elaborated by primitive mechanics with what little suggestion they could get from the animal world. The inclined plane, both for rolling and sliding friction, as wei as for convenience in walking, is too easy to dwell upon. The Eskimo sledge men, the hunter dragging his game, the fishermen on a sloping beach landing a great sea monster or a canoe, the Indians of the can- ons making a trail, the Caribs launching a pirogue, the mound-build- ers or the Mexicans ascending a great ceremonial earthwork, were equally skilled in selecting a gentle slope or in making one. The natives of British Columbia make skids of stout saplings, and on them roll up the logs that are to form the plate pieces of their communal dwellings, holding them in position by means of shore poles. The great stone buildings of Mexico, Central America and Peru were the work of men's hands, with no aid from animals or natural powers. The invariable association of ail such structures with sloping earth- works and pyramids points to the chief mechanical power known to the builders. An additional value is given to the inclined plane in that it allows the co-operation of as many individuals as are necessary, and it also lends itself to co-operation with the other powers. The wedge was in universal use among the American native mechanics: 1. To tighten the working part of an implement in its hafting and seizing. 2. To split long puncheons of cedar logs, to be used in the roofs and floors of houses. 3. In riving from standing trees annual layers between two scarfs (kerfs) as an aid in felling the tree. 4. In spreading the sides of a canoe for inserting the thwarts. 5. For lifting heavy weights on cob work. There is authority for this in the history of the Superior copper mines. Finally, for any splitting or compressing that might need to be done. The wedges were always made of the hardest material known \\\ any region. Wood, ivory, elkhorn, bone, and even hammered cop- per did service. Wedges were driven home with hand hammers and mauls. The 76 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. former were of one piece, in shape of a pestle or a slab, but more nicely finished, and were for one or two hands; the latter were wrought out of the hardest material, hafted with great ingenuity, and cut frequently to imitate the heads of animals. The principle of the wedge entered into that of professional tools, such as needles, prickers, and knives for splitting. The lever is somewhat harder to trace in savage America. The Eskimo, in tightening and relaxing their sinew-backed bow, use a lever of ivory, which makes half a turn, and is then slidden its whole length between the strands of the cable to repeat the process. For lifting or prying heavy weights, aboriginal man, for some reason, prefers a dead lift. Any one accustomed to handling common men has many a time been astounded at the pains they will give them- selves before they are willing to think and plan. However, for twist- ing the cable in a fox trap, for taking the slack in a swinging bridge, and for moving heavy stones and weights, the lever is always at hand. Mr. Holmes has not hesitated to put a crowbar in the hands of one of his quarrymen. The roller 1 have found certainly in two areas. The Eskimos, in landing a heavily laden skin-boat, according to Elliott, lay down on the beach, in a row, inflated sealskins, used as floats with their har- poons. Upon these the craft is beached without the vexation of un- loading her, A moment's reflection will show that in this apparatus the pneumatic tire is foreshadowed. The other example of the roller is the use made of it on the North Pacific coast in moving the great logs to be used in construct- ing the communal houses. The pulley in its simplest form is described as an invention of tepee-dwelling Indians of the plains. When the women had set up the three chief poles of the tent, the skin cover was hauled up by a line fastened to the top margin, passed over the fork of the poles above and hauled by women at the other end. When the time came to strike tent, the line was loosed and the poles drawn together at their bases. Elliott, however, figures a group of Eskimos landing a huge walrus by means of a compound pulley. A long, stout walrus line passes around greasy pegs driven between the rocks and through slits cut in the animal's hide. There was nothing on the continent that could be compared to a wheel, either for carriage or for mechanical purposes, when Columbus discovered America. The fly-wheel was well known and widely dis- ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 11 tributed on spindles and drills, but there were no wheelbarrows, carts or carriages, no cranks, or windlasses, or capstans. But the Alaskan Indians, and perhaps others, used the parbuckle, which combines the roller and the pulley in the same device. For hoisting logs, a rope was fastened to the tops of posts, passed down under a log in the ground, back over the top of the post and down to the ground, where it was seized by men. Dr. Boas figures in his Central Eskimo a plug of wood with a thread cut on it, to be used in stopping the blood flowing from a wounded seal. This is the only aboriginal screw ever heard of in America. This is quite strange, since every wrapping and seizing is laid on spirally, in the most orderly manner, on the tools and weapons of the aborigines. Tylor informs us that, though the principle of the screw was known to Greek philosophers, the mechanics of the classic times used nails, but no screws, and did not understand the gimlet or the auger. The METROLOGY of the aboriginal Americans has been studied both from the observational and the deductive side. Omitting the latter for the present, it may be pleasant to gather what was known about — 1. Counting, numbering, and the multiplication table. 2. Weights and measures, as they are termed in the arithmetics. 3. Money and the mechanism of exchange. 4. Calendar and clock time. These ancient manufacturers and builders had no government standards of measuring their work, but referred everything to their bodies. This system was far more accurate among rude peoples, where anthropometric difterences between the sexes and between individuals were very slight. Many witnesses confirm the opinion that every weapon or chunkee pole had its proportion to the owner. Dr. Mathews says that the Navajo pole for the great hoop game was twice the span long, and Mr. Dorsey found that the Omaha arrow had to measure from the inner angle of the elbow to the tip of the middle finger, and thence over the b ack of the hand to the wrist-bone. 1 have examined many hundreds of quivers, and have always found the arrows to be of the same length, while those of the tribe resemble in general appearance, but vary slightly in length for each man. Dr. Dorsey found the Naltunne, on Siletz Agency, in Oregon, using the double arm's length, the single arm's length, half the span, the cubit, the half cubit, the hand length, the hand width, the fingerwidth (1, 2, 78 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. 3, 4, 5), and from the tip of the elbow across the body to the end of the middle finger of the other hand. In most of these cases the starting- point is the meeting of the tips of the thumb and index finger. {Science, N. Y., 1892, xx, 194.) Among the Aztecs, or Nahuatls, and the Mayas, the two most cultivated stocks of North American aborigines, Brinton finds no words for estimating quantity by gravity, no weighing terms. For extension, the human body, and, largely, the hand and the foot, fur- nished standards of measuring. Among the Mayas the footstep or print, or length of the foot, was very familiar, and frequently in use by artisans, as well as the pace or stride. Quite a series of measures were recognized from the ground to the upper portions of the body, to the ankle, to the upper portion of the calf, to the knee-cap, to the girdle, to the ribs or chest, to the mamma£, to the neck, to the mouth, to the vertex. Other measures were the hand, finger-breadths, the span, half around the hand, as in measuring for a glove, the cubit, the fathom. Journeys were counted by resting-places. In Aztec metrology the fingers appear to have been customary measures. The span was not like ours, from the extremity of the thumb to the extremity of the little finger, nor the Cakchiquel, from the extremity of the thumb to that of the middle finger, but like that now in use among the Mayas, from the extremity of the thumb to that of the index finger. There were four measures from the point of the elbow: to the wrist of the same arm; to the wrist of the opposite arm; to the ends of the fingers of the same arm; to the ends of the opposite arm. The arms are extended always at right angles to the body. The Aztec arm measures were from the tip of the shoulder to the end of the hand; from the tip of the fingers of one hand to those of the other; from the middle of the breasts to the end of the fingers. The octocatl, or "ten-foot pole," approximately, was the standard of length employed in laying out grounds and constructing buildings. The road measure of the Aztecs was by the stops of the carriers, as in Guatemala. The Aztecs were entirely ignorant of balances, scales or weights. The plumb line must have been unknown to the Mexicans also.* *D. G. Brinton, Essavs of an Americanist, Phil. 1890, 433-451. This whole paper should be consulted. Charles Whittlesey, Metrical Standards of the Mound-builders. THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. 79 A curious fact in engineering is recorded by that most careful of observers, Rev. J. O. Dorsey, regarding the Omaha tribal circles. He says: " The circle was not made by measurement, nor did any one give directions where each tent should be placed; that was left to the women. Though they did not measure the distance, each woman knew where to pitch her tent." She also knew the proper distance apart for safety on the one hand, or for the convenience of dressing hides on the other.* Dorsey tells me the Peruvians had elegant balances. Federal money and the metric system, as applied to the mechan- ism of exchange, are modern returns to very primitive modes of reck- oning values. The basis of money is at times a shell, a bead, a robe, a skin. The purchasing power of the unit is fixed in each case, and among certain tribes there is a table of moneys, such as: two elks' teeth equal one pony, eight ponies equal one wife.f The day's journey is often mentioned as a fixed distance. This is only true within wide limits, and it scarcely ever exceeds ten miles for marching. "The Indians, finding that their wives were so near as to be within one of their ordinary days' work, which seldom exceeded ten or twelve miles, determined not to rest till they had joined them.";J: The Zuni Indians know well that the light of the rising sun falls on the same spot but two days in the year, and that at noon the shadow of a pillar lengthens and then shortens back to the same spot in the same period. They have a pillar dedicated to astronomical observations. On many houses in the pueblo there are scores on the wall, opposite windows or loop-holes, for the purpose of recording the movements of the sun. There are also pillars to be seen in other parts of the world which could possibly be dedicated to the same end, since such a feat is performed by at least one tribe. This reminds one of the old familiar cuts on the kitchen window-sill in almost every country house. " Each morning, just at dawn, the Sun priest, followed by the master priest of the Bow, went along the eastern trail to the ruined city of Ma-tsa-ki by the riverside, where, awaited at a distance by his *Dorsey, III. An. Rep. Bur. Ethnol., Wash., 1883, pp. 219-220. fStearns, Ethno. Cotichology, Rep. U. S. N. Mus., 3 Gushing, Am. Anthropologist, Wash., 1892, V. XWfxrne, Journey, etc., Lond., 1795, Strahan, 185. fStearns, Ethno. Conchologj>, Rep. U. S. N. Mus., 1887, with bibliography Also Gushing, Atn. Anthropologist, Wash., 1892, V. 80 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. companion, he slowly approached a square open tower, and seated himself just inside upon a rude ancient stone chair, and before a pillar sculptured with the face of the sun, the sacred hand, the morning star and the new moon. Here he awaited, with prayer and sacred song, the rising of the sun. Not many such pilgrimages are made ere the suns look at each other, and the shadows of the solar monolith, the monument of Thunder Mountain, and the pillar of the gardens of Zuni lie along the same trail; then the priest blesses, thanks and exhorts his father, while the warrior guardian responds as he cuts the last notch in his pine-wood calendar, and both hasten back to call from the housetops the glad tidings of the return of spring. Nor may the Sun priest err in his watch of time's flight, for many are the houses in Zuni with scores in their walls or ancient plates embedded therein, while opposite a convenient window or small porthole lets in the light of the rising sun, which shines but two mornings of the 365 on the same place. Wonderfully reliable are these rude systems of orientation, by which the religion, the labors, and even the pastimes of the Zuni are regulated. " * 1 have heard that the Montagnais hunters, in going along, stand sticks upright in the snow at points agreed upon, and make a scratch where the shadow lies. The women, coming after, observe the angle between the scratch and the shadow, and by the size of the angle de- termine their pace to the next station. It would be interesting to know whether the men or the women devised this primitive clock. The evolution of machinery cannot be ignored in this connection. A machine is a contrivance for changing the direction and the velocity of motion or force. It cannot create force any more than a tool can. On the contrary, it consumes a vast amount of force in its own work- ing. By means of a tool the entire force exerted is brought to bear upon the material. The machine, by the waste of a portion of the force, enables the workman to apply his efforts more rapidly, more powerfully, or in ways unattainable by hand. All power at first was hand-power; the machinery of the world was moved only by human muscles. In the chapter on animals will be treated the gradual enlistment of domestic beasts in the service of man. Besides these, winds and water currents gradually have been *F. H. Gushing, Century Magazine, quoted in Nature, Lond., 1892, Mar. 17, p. 464. Time of day among the Navajo, see Matthews, Mountain Chant, V., An. Rep. Bur. Ethnol., 389. ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 81 domesticated for human uses in savagery. The study of these is essential to a knowledge of industrial progress. The Zuni woman's extremely simple potter's wheel, which is noth- ing more than the turning of her vessel about in a box of dry sand as the work goes on, is only a little more rude than the fashion in the in- terior of China of putting a lump of clay on the top of a revolving shaft which they turn with one hand while the pot is formed with the other, " The potter's wheel was known in the world from high antiquity. The Africans push a mass of clay around with one hand and form it with the other. The Egyptian potter turned the wheel by hand. The Hindu potter goes down to the riverside when a flood has brought him a deposit of fine clay, where all he has to do is to knead a batch of it, stick up his pivot in the ground, balance the heavy wooden table on the top, give it a spin and set to work." * The spindle with its whorl is a free wheel and axle with the prin- ciple of the flywheel fully developed. The twister, well known to savages, is a still simpler flywheel. The Zuni Indians make a block of wood about 8x3xi^ inches. Near one end a hole is made, ^ inch in diameter, and the stick is notched just outside this hole. This is the flywheel. A stick with a head cut on it is thrust through the hole and serves for a handle. One end of the material to be twisted is tied to the notch on the flywheel, and the other end to some fixed object. The twister holds to the handle and causes the fly to revolve by the motion of the hand. " It is extremely probable that the first continuous motion was employed in connection with the grinding of corn." f In this same connection Shaw arranges his corn-grinders as fol- lows: 1. Simple stone pounder, 2. Mortar and pestle, worked (a) by slaves, {b) by bondmen, (c) by cattle. 3. Flat cylindrical stone with vertical spindle. But, in reality, there have been two series, the mortar series and the grinding series, the order of which last would be: 1. Rubber and flat native rock. 2. Metate and muller. 3. The rotary mill, driven first by hand and after by animals, winds and water. The utilization of the wind in locomotion will be studied in the chapter on primitive transportation. The Indians of the plains, who *Tylor, Anihropologv, N. Y., t88l, p. 275. tShaw, J., Soc. /trts., Lond., 1885, XXXIU. 395. 82 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. dwelt in skin lodges, understood the use of the fly and extra pole on the tent to utilize the wind in creating a draft and drawing the smoke out of the dwelling. The sail is also used in the Arctic regions to aid driving the sled over smooth ice. But no savage had any conception of a windmill or invited the air to participate in doing mechanical work. If we were permitted to coin a word, we should call all the arts combined that relate to the getting, preserving and utilizing of water, hydrotechny; but that would furnish rather a long term for the study of these arts, — hydrotechnology,— though it is not lacking in euphony. The spring, the well, the city reservoir and waterworks; the open stream, the canal, the locomotive; the tide wheel, the overshot, the turbine — all of these indicate progress in hydrotechny as related to ali- ment, to transportation, to irrigation and to manufactures. The world's progress has followed the water, and water has never been absent from men's minds. No aborigines, unaided by domestic animals, have displayed so much patience and ingenuity in the storage and conducting of water as the Indians of the arid region of the United States. Throughout the public region, says Mr. Hodge, works of irrigation abound in the valleys and on the mountain slopes, especially along the drainage of the Gila and the Salado, in Southern Arizona, where the inhabitants are engaged in agriculture to a vast extent by this means. The arable tract of the Salado comprises 450,000 acres, and the ancient inhabit- ants controlled the watering of at least 250,000 acres. The outlines of one hundred and fifty miles of ancient main irrigating ditches may be readily traced, some of which meander southward a distance of four- teen miles. In one place the main canal was found to be a ditch within a ditch, the bed being seven feet deep. The lower section was only four feet wide, but the sides broadened in their ascent to a " bench " three feet wide on each side of the canal. Remains of balsas were recovered, showing that the transportation of material was also carried on. Remains of flood gates were found by Mr. Gushing, and great reservoirs for storage of water, one example being 200 feet long and 15 feet in depth.* In the earliest engineering feats two facts must be sharply kept before the mind, to- wit: That time was no object, and that there were no private buildings. Suppose that every laboring person in Chicago should be immediately withdrawn from all private work, and that they * F. W. Hodge, Am. Anthropologist, July, 1893, pp. 323-330. ABORIGINAL AMERICAN MECHANICS. 83 all should be organized to labor for ten years upon some government building as a memorial of the city's grandeur. One million hand labor- ers would erect a pyramid containing fifteen thousand milliards of tons of earth, and the mechanics would put on the top of it a structure larger than all the monuments in Egypt combined. The only puzzle the modern student can have is to conceive how the ancient engineer lifted these great weights. If he could lift them he could move them, if was within the ability of a company of American Indians in several areas to hammer down any great stone into any form. It was customary for them, as tribes, to all engage in the same operation in hauling logs, or seines, or boats, or stones, in rowing and dancing. The problem is somewhat like that of Archi- medes. " Given a rope long enough and a crib work strong enough," and any modern savage people will undertake to set up the monu- ments of Brittany. In point of fact the ancient Americans did quarry single stones weighing three hundred tons, did move them great dis- tances and set them in place. In the copper mines of Michigan was discovered a huge nugget of copper resting still on a mass of cob work. Around were wedges and mauls, and, by means of shoving up alternate sides after lifting them by wedges, the engineers had hoisted the mass twenty-six feet. This is the only historic example I have found of actual work done, and here I leave the American aboriginal mechanic. ARCHAEOLOGICAL RESEARCHES IN THE CHAMPLAIN VALLEY. BY G. H. PERKINS. THE Champlain Valley, though of comparatively inconsiderable area and containing neither mounds nor extensive village sites, has nevertheless yielded to diligent search many objects of con- siderable archaeological interest. It is not the design of the writer to give any detailed account of the numerous specimens which have been found in the Champlain Valley. For such accounts those interested are referred to sundry art- icles published elsewhere,* in which many of the objects to which allusion is here made are fully described, and many of them tlgured. In the present paper it is intended to present in as general a man- ner as possible the results of more than twenty years' investigation in the region under consideration. As to the age and origin of most of the specimens, little that is certain can be said, although we may be tolerably sure that most are of no very great antiquity, but were made and used by the Algonkins and Iroquois, who occupied the country when first visited by Europeans. Continually at war with each other, and, in some respects, widely dif- ferent as were these two peoples, they were nevertheless quite similar in the routine of their daily life, and the implements, ornaments and weapons of either one do not appear to have been very unlike those of the other. At any rate, I have not found it in any way practicable to distin- guish those specimens which belonged to one from those of the other as they occur in our collections. And yet, when we compare the specimens of the Champlain Valley with those from other parts of New England on the one hand and with those from New York and the West on the other, we see very clearly that archasologically, the Champlain Valley belongs with New *yimerican Naturalist, Vol. V., page 11; Vol. XIII., page 731; Vol. XV., page 426; Vol. XIX., page 1143; Vol. XX., page 333. Proc. A. A. A. S., Vol. XXII., page 76; Vol. XXV., page 325; Vol. XXVll., page 312. Science, Oct. 17, 1892. 84 ARCHytOLOGlCAL RESEARCHES IN THE CHAMPLAIN VALLEY. 85 York and the West rather than with New England and the East. That is, the stone, bone and metal objects which we have collected resem- ble far more closely those which are undoubtedly Iroquois than they do those which are Algonkin, and for this reason our specimens are more varied in form and more elegant in workmanship than those found in any other part of New England. In many localities, notably the Mississippi Valley, finely wrought objects are much more abundant than they are in this region, but, though fewer, our specimens are not in any wise inferior in quality. Most of the types of stone implements found in the United States are more or less completely represented in the Champlain Valley, many of them very exactly. In looking over a large collection gath- ered from either side of the lake, one is constantly reminded of typical specimens from the Ohio mounds, the graves of Tennessee, the shell- heaps of Florida, and even the common forms of the Pacific coast. Of course, much of this resemblance is due to the same cause as is that found all over the world, the common result obtained by the exercise of common skill and ingenuity working in a common material, which gives us stone implements which are, in a general way, similar wher- ever found, and by whomsoever made. But it is more than this, for it is not so much in the rude and common implements that we find our close resemblances as in those of finer finish, and we must con- clude, both because of the material as well as of the form, that an ex- tensive interchange of objects by barter or the fortunes of war, or both, was carried on by the aborigines in the Champlain Valley, as we know it to have been in other parts of the country. This interchange of objects by tribes occupying different parts of the country is abundantly shown by the presence of points, knives and the like, made from the brightly hued agates and jaspers of the West, by those beaten from the native copper of Lake Superior, by beads of shell and coral from the South, and by the presence of other materials not found in the region. Copper beaten into points, knives, bars or sheets is found, though not abundantly, and there is one gouge of this material. More sparingly used and apparently only for ornament was shell, of which material beads of different sorts were made. Coral beads have also been found in one or two localities. It seems most probable that bone was often used for the manufacture of awls and similar implements, though very few objects made of bone have been found. This may be explained by the conditions of soil, and especially climate, to which 86 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. all our relics have been exposed, and which must have been very un- favorable to the preservation of a substance like bone; so that, although bone implements were in common use among the tribes formerly occupying the Champlain Valley, they have for the most part disappeared through decomposition. The statements made to Champlain by his Algonkm companions in 1609 that, because of long-continued warfare between themselves and the Iroquois, the borders of the lake to which his name is given were not and had not for a long time been permanently inhabited, are verified by the almost entire absence of ancient village sites. With not more than two or three exceptions, we find evidence throughout the valley of camp sites rather than village sites, of occupation for a season rather than for years. Very much might be said of the pottery of the Champlain Valley but without the aid of abundant illustration it is not easy to give a clear idea of its great variety and real artistic quality. It is very noticeable that the resemblance of specimens from the Champlain Valley to specimens from the interior, the South or the Pacific coast, often so exact as to become identity in the case of stone implements or ornaments, almost disappears in the earthenware. Fragments of earthenware are not at all uncommon in the area we are studying, though entire jars are very rare, but among all the multitude of these fragments we find little that resembles the pottery of the West. As will be seen later, the decoration is almost endlessly varied, but it is not the decoration of the pottery of the mounds or graves of other localities. No single example of the animal forms of the mounds, no bit of colored or painted ware has been discovered. If judged by their earthenware alone, the tribes of the Champlain Valley would undoubtedly be regarded as quite distinct from those of the West, while, if we use all the rest of the relics which they have left as the basis of comparison, the difference does not seem to be great, as it was not. Although for the most part in fragments, the specimens of pottery found are amply sut!lcient to show the form of the entire jars and the character of their decoration. No one, I am sure, can examine a considerable collection of these pieces of earthen- ware without realizing the fact that the makers were exceedingly skill- ful, both in the treatment of the unbaked clay and in its final orna- mentation, and gifted with no little artistic taste. The form of the jars is readily understood from the few entire specimens and from the many large fragments. It was always glob- ARCH^OLOGICAL RESEARCHES IN THE CHAMPLAIN VALLEY. 87 ular, or in rare instances sub-conical, but the upper portion is not al- ways circular, since in quite a number of examples the rim is quad- rangular, or in very rare cases polygonal. These more elaborately shaped jars are always very elaborately ornamented and are to be re- garded as the finest specimens of earthenware found in the region. The paste used, a mixture of pounded stone, quartz, mica, feld- spar, and sometimes other materials, with clay, was of very variable nature, now being very tine, now with larger bits of stone, now very coarse. Some of the pottery was burned until it was almost black; most is dark red; some so light that it seems to have been but little exposed to the fire. The figures used in decorating were neither numerous nor complex, being always impressed upon the soft surface of the unburned jar and consisting of either lines of different width and length, or of small figures, such as circles, triangles, pits, squares, crescents and the like. Dentellated and zigzag figures were used, and stamps an inch or more long were made by which the impression was produced. Although the number of distinct figures used was not large, yet by combining them in diiferent ways almost endless diversity was pro- duced in the patterns. The decoration is sometimes exceedingly deli- cate and regular, though, of course, in other examples it is ruder and coarser. In some jars the ornamentation is contlned to a narrow band about the rim, while in others the entire surface is covered with lines and figures drawn on the curved surface with surprising regularity. Some jars are not only adorned on the outside, but there are lines and even figures on the inside. The rim, too, is not always left plain, but may be scalloped very nicely. A favorite style of ornament appears to have been a complex grouping of lines drawn in dilTerent directions, horizontal, oblique, vertical, etc. Besides jars, pipes were also made of earthenware, and for this purpose the finest material was used. These pipes are, some of them, shaped much like the modern clay pipe; others are straight tubes flar- ing at the larger end. In a region where the manufacture of pottery was so commonly and so extensively carried on, we should expect to discover the ancient kilns in which it was burned, and so we do, in one locality at least. Just north of Plattsburgh, on the lake shore, is a ridge of sand where, with my friend Dr. Kellogg, 1 have found a number of undoubted kilns in which pottery was burned, as the numerous clusters of burned stones, masses of burned clay and a very great number of bits of pot- 88 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. tery amply prove. From this place Dr. Kellogg has taken several bushels of fragments, some of them of large size, and has been able to restore two jars entirely Where pottery was so abundant it would seem to be a waste of labor to manufacture dishes of stone, and such are very rare in this region; but a few have been found. Steatite is found in many parts of the Champlain Valley, especially on the Vermont side, and this ma- terial was now and then used for the making of shallow dishes of no large size. They were usually well finished, and, in at least one in- stance, even ornamented by raised figures on the outside. Slate of various shades of red, green, purple, brown or black is common in Vermont, and, as would be expected, a material so excel- lently adapted to the purposes of the worker in stone was not over- looked. Not only was it used for making gorgets, two-hole stones, banner stones and the like, but even points, knives and scrapers were also sometimes made of slate. Indeed, one of the most characteristic objects which is found is a form of slate knife not unlike those of quartz in outline, which is long, triangular, or even linear in outline, the surface ground, not flaked, smoothly finished, often polished, and with a straight stem or haft, along each side of which are several notches or scallops. Some of these knives are so long — five or six inches — and so slender that they seem wholly incapable of any service, and their purpose is quite uncertain. Perhaps no other class of specimens so well illustrates the skill of the worker in stone as do the pipes. While, as compared with the many superb pipes which the mounds of the Ohio and Mississippi Valleys have afforded, those from the Champlain Valley may appear very insignificant, yet a by no means contemptible collection has here been obtained. Our pipes are not equal in either elaborateness of de- sign or variety of form to those from the localities named, but, though plainer and simpler, they are not at all inferior in regularity of form or perfection of finish. The most important of our pipes are the very few which are carved to represent animals, and especially two which are ornamented with carved human faces, the latter being the only spe- cimens of any sort in our collections in which an attempt is made to imitate any part of the human body. 1 do not know that the material of the Champlain pipes differs from that used in other places. It is, naturally, stone not very hard, of attractive appearance, and capable of receiving a polish. Steatite, gypsum, limestone, slate, were most often chosen for this purpose. ARCH^OLOGICAL RESEARCHES IN THE CHAMPLAIN VALLEY. 89 Besides platform, bell-shaped, trumpet-shaped and other com- mon forms of pipes, there occur straight tubular pipes very much like those of the Pacific. coast. This may even be regarded as our most common form, for there are many more tubular pipes than there are of any other single form, though not by any means more than of all other forms. In length these straight pipes vary from two or three inches to twelve or fifteen. Most of the usual forms of what are known as ornamental or ceremonial objects, such as bird-shaped stones, banner stones, two-hole stones, pendants, and so on, are found in the collections from the Champlain Valley. Some of the handsomest of these are of banded slate, but much harder stone was often used, granite, porphyry, greenstone, or quartz. Whatever may have been the design of these objects, no labor was too great, no polish too fine to satisfy the makers. Discoidal stones, rare in the East, are sparingly found in the re- gion we are studying. A few of these are very finely made and pol- ished, but many more are rude and poorly finished. The usual kinds of celts are found commonly, and 1 do not think that we have any very peculiar forms. Our celts are most often rather long and slender, though short and clumsy specimens are not wanting. Some of them have each end ground to an edge, and the transition from celt to gouge, or hollow chisel, is seen in a few speci- mens which are celt at one end and gouge at the other. Probably nowhere does the gouge occupy relatively so important a place in archaeological collections as in the Champlain Valley. Here it occurs of many forms and sizes, and is excelled in beauty of mate- rial and elegance of workmanship by no other class of objects, at least when only the best examples are considered. Indeed, so perfectly are some of our gouges made and finished that it is difficult to believe that they were ever intended to be put among the common implements of everyday life. I do not at all suppose that the greater part of the gouges, cer- tainly the ruder ones, were for other than the most utilitarian purposes, but those which are of most perfect form, of the same hand- some stone as that of which amulets and such undoubtedly ceremonial objects were made, and moreover showing no sign of use, though not of the hardest material, it seems to me more reasonable to regard as ceremonial rather than simply useful objects. Some of the finest gouges are large, twelve to fifteen inches long, and in a few cases more, the longest which I have seen being nineteen inches long; but 90 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the other proportions do not increase with the length, as nearly all the long gouges are quite slender. The individuality which is noticeable in all the better specimens of stone implements is especially manifest in the gouges. Scarcely any two are exactly alike, and it is not often that two can be found that can fairly be regarded as duplicates. As on the one hand the celt passes into the gouge, so on the other it develops into the grooved axe. Apparently, the- early inhabitants of the Champlain Valley had very few axes of this sort. At any rate, few have been found. Most of them are very well shaped and smoothly finished, though very rude specimens occur. A few are very small, mere little hatchets, and none are large, the heaviest as com- pared with axes of the South and West being not more than of medium size. The mortar and pestle, so important in the household economy of all Indian tribes, are not lacking in our collections. The mortars were generally rude, little more labor having been expended upon them than was required to excavate a shallow depression, though sometimes the whole was more or less worked out, the result being a mortar much like those common on the Pacific coast. The pestle, however, though sometimes rude, was more often carefully hammered into shape, and even polished. In a few cases the one end was carved to resemble the head of an animal, four such pestles having been found. It is quite probable that the longest and best-finished pestles were not designed as such, but were to be used as clubs. Several of these are over two feet long, and one is twenty-nine inches. It goes without saying that, numerically, the larger part of our collections is made up of flaked or chipped implements. Not only points and such like objects, but even celts and other tools which, in most cases, were picked and ground, were occasionally flaked. Some of these recall the ordinary Danish celt. Flaked celts or axes are, however, very seldom found, and they were always ground more or less after the general shape was produced by flaking. As it is everywhere, the usual material of flaked specimens is some of the many varieties of quartz rock, though other hard stone was sometimes used. A bluish or grayish quartzite which is found in place in Vermont was more often chosen than any other material, and in some localities nearly all the points, large and small, are of this stone, and the most frequently occurring form is triangular, with a slightly indented base. It is noticeable that the white, milky quartz, so often used in Southern New England and elsewhere, very rarely AKCHyEOLOGICAL RESEARCHES IN THE CHAMPLAIN VALLEY. 91 occurs in this region. The triangular point mentioned above is found in every variety of size and proportion from little points not more than half an inch long to those that are four or five inches in length. It will, of course, be understood that this form is not the only one found here, but that, while this is most common, nearly, and I think quite, all the forms which have been found in other parts of the United States have also been found in the Champlain Valley, except- ing perhaps certain unique specimens. Our collections of points, knives, etc., as a whole, do not, in- deed, present as showy and attractive an appearance to the observer as do many similar from the Mississippi Valley or the West, but the main diiference is that in the latter linely-made specimens, of beauti- ful material, are common; in our collections such are not common, but they do occur, and as fine as can be found anywhere: /. e., in the Western collections there are many splendid examples of chipped ob- jects, while in our own there are few, but what we have are every whit as excellent. Obviously a detailed account of the specimens of this class is utterly outside of the plan of this paper. It is sufficient to mention the points, large and small, knives, scrapers, drills, and so on. Certain very large flaked objects, ovate or leaf -shaped, are be- lieved to be agricultural implements. Some of these are very nicely made, but they do not equal in either size or finish similar specimens found in the Mississippi Valley. In the early part of this paper it was stated that probably most of the objects found in the Champlain Valley should be referred to the Algonkin and Iroquois occupants of the region when it was first en- tered by Europeans. This may be true of all, since we have at pres- ent no means of ascertaining how long these tribes had lived in the lands bordering the lake. There are, however, a few localities in which a considerable number of articles have been discovered under circum- stances which indicate— I think I may say prove— very much greater antiquity of origin than could be claimed for most of the objects ob- tained. In one instance very rude flaked specimens of the turtleback order were taken from undisturbed subsoil several feet below the surface. In conclusion, I may only add that by far the larger part of the specimens which have been found in the Champlain Valley— at any rate, of those which have been preserved— are to be seen in the Museum of the University of Vermont at Burlington, and in the very fine collection of Dr. D. S. Kellogg, of Plattsburgh, N. Y., though there are smaller collections at the State Capitol at Montpelier and in the possession of a few individuals. ANTHROPOLOGICAL WORK AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. BY HARLAN I. SMITH. THE beginning of the second semester of the college year 1891-92 marked a new departure for Anthropology at the University of Michigan. For several months an interest in this study, espe- cially in the branch of American Archaeology, had been ripening. Those interested had been discussing matters relating to the various subjects in which they were most absorbed. Collections of specimens and photographs were examined in connection with these private con- versations. Papers on various topics of popular interest were given before the Geological and Philological Societies of the University. And it was found that the University was in possession of several im- portant collections of archiEological material, which were stored away, and which were so interesting and instructive as to merit a better place. At this time it was contemplated to arrange these collections in the University Museum. Prof. F. W. Kelsey, of the Latin Depart- ment, who had carried on explorations in Rome, and who was greatly interested in Roman archseology, was most active in urging the cause. He insisted that the materials should be worked up for exhibition and that the complete data be recorded, from such labels, letters and notes as were at hand, before there was a possibility of any loss of facts. He further urged that mounds, village sites and other primitive re- mains of the State in danger of destruction be examined in a careful and scientific way, before any commercial enterprise necessitated their obliteration. It was in this way that matters stood when, at the beginning of a new semester, Prof. Kelsey was empowered to olTer a course in " Museum Work in American Archaeology." The Geological Depart- ment kindly turned over one of their rooms as a laboratory for the work, and later in the year proper cases were constructed in the west end of the lower hall of the Museum for the exhibition of specimens and photographs, and such specimens as were ready for exhibition were deposited in them. 92 ANTHROPOLOGICAL WORK AT UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. 93 H. C. Markham and myself were the only students to avail themselves of the opportunity for museum work. Mr. Markham de- voted his attention to literary work until towards the end of the sem- ester, when he began investigating the manufacture of chipped imple- ments and the processes of drilling without the use of metal. In these investigations he was fairly successful, and gave the results of his work in a paper before the Geological Society, illustrating his subject by chipping several forms from glass and by perforating pieces of slate by means of a soft pine drill with sand and water. All the arch- ^ological materials not previously arranged for exhibition were taken to the laboratory, and it was then found that the Department was in possession of a much more valuable collection than was at first sup- posed. One of the most interesting and instructive features of this is a typical lot of about forty neolithic implements from Denmark. Among the materials illustrating the ceramic art is a series of potsherds and pottery vessels collected by Dr. J. B. Steere about twenty years ago. Of these a number are from the large islands at the mouth of the Amazon; still more are from Ancon and Pacasmayo, in Peru, and not a few were obtained in the East Indies. The texture and orna- mentation of all of these is very interesting. But time will not permit a description of them at this place. Suffice it to say that over fifty of the vessels that were badly broken have been carefully restored. There were also a few specimens illustrating the archaeology of Michi- gan. Since the establishment of the laboratory a series of stone ham- mers from the prehistoric copper mines on isle Royal, Michigan, were presented by Prof. Sherger, and the citizens of Ann Arbor subscribed for the purchase of a local collection of stone implements known as the De Pue collection. Besides these additions, a series of over one hundred plaster casts of implements and other prehistoric objects in the Smithsonian Institution was presented to the Museum. These casts were used to great advantage in illustrating a number of lectures before the classes in history. Later in the year a number of village sites were discovered and examined in a preliminary way, and an extensive survey was made of one of the so-called "garden beds" near Kalamazoo, under the direc- tion of the department. So rapid has been the accumulation and arrangement of materials that the cases constructed are now entirely inadequate, and new cases are about to be built to accommodate several collections that have been 94 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. promised, and to make room for photographs and diagrams from the laboratory. It is desired to make collections illustrating American archeology when accompanied by the necessary data, in regard to the locality where, and the conditions under which, the specimens were found, as rapidly as possible, and collections without such data, and hence with less scientific value, must be sacrificed for these. Original research is to be encouraged and a rigid adherence to scientific methods is to be followed in order that the new department may not fall to the level of a museum of curiosities instead of holding to its original pur- pose. Michigan is a field as yet comparatively unexplored, and it is hoped that it may be carefully and scientifically surveyed, so that the results will be of value to science. As yet the work has been almost exclusively confined to archeology, but as the department develops it is expected that the other important phases of anthropological science will receive attention. So we may say, 1 think, that another university, and one in the West, has taken up this important line of investigation. THE ANTIQUITY OF THE CIVILIZATION OF PERU. BY EMILIO MONIES. LES id^es vraies ou fausses se d^veloppent selon le milieu oii elles se trouvcnt, lequel leur en impriment un caractere tout special d'originalite. L'hotnme croit etre en possession de la v^rit^ quand meme il s'egard par I'erreur la plus grossiere. Ah ! Et combien de temps lui faudrat-il pour qu'il en revienne, pour qu'il reconnaisse et abdique de ses erreurs, de ses ^garements et de ses surprises? Les ann^es et les siecles courent prdcipitament dans I'abime du ndant, et sous I'influence du temps la terre et tout change; mais I'erreur change tres difficilement. C'est ainsi qu'aujourd'hui on pense que la region la plus an- cienne d'ou s'irradierent les premiers rayons de civilisation en est I'Egypte — venant imm^diatement apres I'Inde. Mais si nous ren- controns, par tout ailleurs, de travaux embrionaires, si nous trou- vons des monuments vraiment primitifs avec ce cachet inddlebilede la plus haute antiquity et revelant dans tout son ensemble I'exis- tence d'un peuple, nous devons proclamer la civilisation de ce peu- ple, certes, apres un severe et mfir examen, comme ant^rieur a la civilisation Indienne et Egyptienne. L'dtincelle que jaillit sous la main de I'ouvrier en posant la derniere pierre qu'accomplissait le faite de son m6r cyclopden,nous la voyons encore phosphorescente a la silhuette majestueuse qui se ddtache au fond obscur des milliers d'ann^es qu'entourent les vastes et immenses monuments du plateau du Kuzko. Rompre avec la croyance et I'idde gdnt^rale qui regnent de nos jours c'est quelque chose de fort, c'est peut-fitre aller contre le cou- rant. Sombrerons nous.''. . . . Le motif du present travail est tout simplement de soumcttre a votre considciration I'id^e que j'ai du Perou prdhistoi ique, du Perou pris comme le premier point archcologique d'oii s'irrailicTcnt les premiers rayons de civilisation et du progrcs. La science nous rendra de vrais et positifs services; elle nous faira voir tout claire- 96 96 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ment que le Perou, comme je viens de dire, en est le premier peuple qui donna son premier pas dans la voie de la civilisation et du progres sur cette terre que nous habitons. En dehors de toute croyance soit religieuse ou non, mais qui empeche de voir les choses comme elles doivent etre vraies, nous d^duirons cette civilisation des objets qui nous ont laiss^ et que nous avons devant nous, et particuiierement de I'examen de ceux grandioses et surprenants monuments muets parcequ'ils n'en ont pas aucune ^criture; mais parlants, parcequ'ils en disent plus que les caracteres inventus un peu plus tard par I'homme lui-meme pour matdrialiser sa pensee et pour qu'elle en fut comprise et gard^e en diffdrents lieux et temps. Pour entrer franchement sur le sujet qui nous occupe il faut que nous fassions une ^tude retrospective de ce qu'etait Thomme a ses premiers jours. Evidemment, que I'etre de raison n'avait pas en- core ddvelopp^ ses facultes comme dans ces derniers temps; non, la sensibility, plus qu'aucune autre faculty, jouait dans ces moments- la un r61e important; plus tard c'est I'intelligence s'harmonisant avec la sensibility qui president tons ces actes; la raison, avec tout son ^clat, viendra plus tard et metrissera et sa pensee et tous ces actes. II. L'homme ne pent pas rester tranquille parcequ'il a en lui le germe d'une activite qui tire son origine de Dieu lui-meme; mais il lui faut de moyens pour qu'il arrive a se d^velopper et a realiser sa destin^e. II se mettera done a chercher les moyens qui doivent sat- isfaire ses necessites. C'est done a I'imperfection de la nature humaine que nous re- trouverons I'origine du travail; par consequent ce n'est pas un cha- timent comme nous fait connaitre la tradition mosaique; c'est tout simplement l'homme s'enquirant de moyens pour accomplir sades- tin^e. Par le travail l'homme a maitris^ la terre et tout ce qu'elle en contiens. Dou^ d'une nature p^rissable, mais dot^ d'un principle de vie, il a voulu que ses CEUvres defiassent et la mort et les temps. Et ses songes et ses desirs se sont accomplis! Car ces monuments et ces objets construits il y a au moins 70 siecles nous les voyons en- core debout. Sur les fronts de ces anciennes constructions et a ses pieds nous retrouverons encore, et les empreints et les traces des generations THE ANTIQUITY OF THE CIVILIZATION OF PERU. 97 qui ont pass6 conime nous passerons bientot a la region etcrnelle des ombres, laissant derriere nous des glorieux souvenirs, que les nouvelles generations sauront profiter. C'est aussi a ces monuments que nous nous adresserons, car ils en contiennent beaucoup de pr^cieux renseignements a nous donner. III. Les monuments et les objets sortis des mains de I'homme pri- mitif au Kuzko sont presque tous decor^s de serpents, divinit^s de ces temps vraiments pr^historiques, ou I'homme effray6 et ^pou- vante par I'hideuse figure de ces animaux, il les a cru sup^rieurs a lui, et connaissant sa faiblesse ou sans la connaitre, eleva dans son cccur d'une maniere instinctive un autel ou expontan^ment rendu son culte a ces etres horribles, qui les croyait de beaucoup sup^rieurs a lui; croyance qui porte avec soi la faiblesse humaine, origine de toute religion. Mais ce cult devait revetir une forme ext^rieure, et c'est pour cela que nous voyons sur ces monuments-la et sur ces pierres-^i les serpents, qui ne sont autre chose que les monstres horribles qui remplissaient de terreur et d'epouvante les esprits naifs des pre- miers habitants de la terre. Quand I'homme conndt dans tous ses details cette terre que nous habitons, quand il eut conscience et certitude que sur cette planete n'existait pas d'autre etre sup^rieur a lui, alors, proclama sa royaute, fonda sa dynastie et s'appela " Roi de la Creation." En- suite, il oublia en rougissant de honte sa premiere religion et en prit une autre. IV. La religion qui avait pour mythe le serpent se rdpandit dans tout le monde. D'abord, elle s'irradiat au Nord du Pcrou (Colom- bie), puis au Nord (Am6rique Centrale et Yukatan), jusqu'au Mexique, la elle fit hate et elle avait dejii des caracteres pour in- struir avantageusement le peuple. Apres, en passant par ce terri- toire et comme un souvenir du triomphe de la religion du serpent dans tout ce continent et pour marquer le passage en Asie, bAti son adoratorio serpent, lequcl fiit conserve tout dcrnicrement par les efforts de I'infatigable et distingue savant Prof. F. VV. Putnam. 98 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. V. Comme nous venons de dire, I'architecture au Mexique est d^jk parlante. Et les temples et palais, les obelisques et jardins suspen- dus epars ^a et la au grand plateau du Kuzko, se reproduisent en mieux et sous un cachet d'originalite au plateau Mexicain, oil la pyramide s'ebauche pour la premiere fois dans I'atelier de I'etre pensant. Plus tard et plus loin il reconstruira de nouveau, mais avec un fini d'art qu'aujourd'hui meme nous voyons (5merveilles ces imposantes constructions au plateau d'Iran, a la valine de I'ln- dus, aux plaines de Ghizeh, tout pres de Memphis, a Thebes, a Babylone, a Seleucie et tant d'autres villes et contrees oil I'art arriva a donner son dernier coup de perfectionnement aux travaux ebauches au grand plateau du Kuzko, reproduis de mieux en mieux et avec un certain cachet d'originalite jusqu'au plateau Mexicain. VI. Au Perou nous trouvons de monuments et d'objets en pierre — ils n'ont pas aucune ecriture parcequ'ils ont 6te batis par I'homme primitif, par I'homme qui n'avait pas encore songea man- ifester ses pens^es par le moyen de Tecriture, fusse phonetique, cuneiforme ou hi^roglyphique, et par cela meme nous en concluerons: que ces monuments sont bien plus anciens que ceux de Tlnde et de I'Egypte, car il font voir et par 1'^- criture et par les hi^roglyphiques qu'ils en contienent a I'homme deja bien avance sur le chemin de la civilization et du progres. Dans ces deux contrees, I'lnde et I'Egypte, nous entrons de but en blanc dans une civilization qui n'a rien d'embrionaire, pendant qu'au Perou, c'est tout le contraire, nous voyons un peuple primi- tif qui fait son premier ouvrage sur lequel il a mit en relict son pre- mier Dieu, le serpent. C'est done au Perou que nous trouverons les monuments les plus anciens qui existent au monde, c'est la qui raillit pour la pre- miere fois I'^tincelle de la civilization qui grandira dans les temps par I'effort des generations. C'est aussi au Perou, si nous jetons un regard avide, que nous trouverons la plus vieille race qui existe au monde; c'est la race Kechua que nous rencontrerons au Kuzko et ses environs; race completement ancienne car ses fruits se deve- loppent instantanement, mArissent bientot. En effet, tous les en- f ants Kcchuas ont dans ses traits quelque chose qu'annonce I'ancien- THE ANTIQUITY OF THE CIVILIZATION OF PERU. 99 net^, et si nous les entendons parler nous seront emerveillds de voir que ses pensees sont d'un homme et non pas d'un enfant de trois ou quatre ans. lis expriment a merveille ses pe?isees et prononce et conuaissent sa langue comme un academician; c'est le Kechua qu'ils en parlent, langue primitive et synth(§tique, car avec un seul mot ils expriment toute une pens^e entiere; langue qui a beaucoup de resemblance avec I'h^breu. Je serai heureux si tout ce que je viens de dire f6t confirm^ par ia science et par I'etude comparative des monuments et d'objets anciens des temps prehistoriques du Perou, Mexique, I'lnde et I'E- gypte, sans oublier le Japon et la Chine; car les objets et les con- structions anciennes de ces deux nations ont ses points de resem- blance aux constructions primitives am6ricaines — sont des points de passage, pour ainsi dire, qui marquent la marche de la civilization d'Amerique en Asie. CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. BY CARL LUMHOLTZ. IN speaking of the cave-dwellers of the Sierra Madre, whence I have just returned, I shall first have to say that the late Lieutenant Schwatka's writings about these people were a gross piece of humbug. De mortuis nil nisi bonum. But as I, on account of a prolonged stay of secluded life in the Mexican mountains, only recently came across a magazine article of his published last year, and as I fear that some scientists may have been led to believe in his so-called discoveries, 1 am in the name of truth bound to state: 1. His journey of discovery was to go by stage from Chihuahua to Carichic; from there he took mules and went on the beaten track to Urique — five days' ordinary journey, — whence he returned by an- other beaten track through the well-known mining town Batopilas. 1 have ample proofs to show that he never left this beaten track, the camino real, to examine a cave. 2. What he relates about " living cliff-dwellers," as he calls them, is what he has heard from others, supplemented by his own imagina- tion. 3. He also brought back " cliff-dwellers" to Chicago. With the exception of a woman and child, who were pagans, and possibly may have been living in a cave, the " cliff-dwellers" were from a village, Yoquibo. To speak of these as cliff or cave-dwellers is ridiculous in the extreme to any one who knows the facts. I hardly think 1 need waste time by going farther into the sub- ject of this kind of " cliff-dwellers." 1 shall now show that there are cave-dwellers in the Sierra Madre, but they are very different from those that the vivid imagination of the late Lieutenant Schwatka evolved. While the northern part of the Chihuahua Sierra Madre has a considerable number of sometimes very fine ancient cliff and cave dwellings, besides a few other antiquities (square stone houses, fort- resses, etc., on top of the mountains) the southern half of the Sierra is almost destitute of antiquities. Only rarely one meets with old 100 CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. 101 cave houses. I have mostly found them on the headwaters of the Rio Fuerte, and the Tarahumaris tell me that they were built by the Tubares, a now nearly extinct tribe, which used to be constantly at war with the Tarahumaris. These houses are very simple, the caves being merely walled in, and the houses are one or two stories, accord- ing to the height of the cave. Other kinds of ruins one does not meet with except in the adjoining ranges and valleys of the tierra caliente. This southern part of the Chihuahua Sierra Madre is in- habited by the numerous Tarahumari tribe, while towards the south the Tepehuanes, of whom some two thousand live in Chihuahua, ad- join them; the Tubares are their neighbors towards the west, and the Pimas towards the northwest. First a few words about the physical geography of the country inhabited by these tribes. Sierra Madre is in Northern Mexico, a broad, high plateau, some 7,000 to 8,000 feet above the level of the sea, falling abruptly down towards the west, while towards the east it gradually sinks down in the extensive lowlands of Eastern Chihuahua. A few summits rise to 10,000 feet, while one of them, Cerro de Mui- nora, near the State of Durango, I found to be 10,450 feet, thus with- out doubt the highest in Chihuahua. There are a few llanos, but they are small. The general character of the landscape is one of small hills and valleys, sparingly watered and covered with forests of pine and oak. Very characteristic of the landscape here are, however, the so-called "barrancas," which, like huge cracks, 3,000 to 5,000 feet deep canons, traverse the high plateau, generally from east to west. Nearly the whole country of the Tarahumari is drained by the Rio Fuerte, which, with its numerous tributaries and side branches, forms as many barrancas. While the temperature of the highland is moderate, with even snow in the winter, it becomes down in the bar- rancas one of excessive heat, only pleasant in the winter time. The climate is also very dry, but as corn will grow with a moderate amount of rain, it generally does well both on the highland and in the barrancas, where also beans and tobacco thrive. Turkeys, deer, lions, bears, squirrels and rats are common, while in the canons the felis onia and the pecary are found. Still, animal life is not rich. Edible fruits and roots and a variety of palatable herbs (at least to me), for instance the common watercress, species of mentha (I-pa-saa-te), chenopodium, cirsium, etc., are quite numerous, especially in the bar- rancas. The general impression of the landscape is one of rocks and pines, with nothing of romance about it; while the stupendous chasms, 102 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the barrancas, with their odd vegetation of opiintice, agave, dasylirium, and down below the wondrous columns of cereus pithaya are grand beyond conception, seen from above the crest, their yawning abysses winding along as far as the eye can reach. Weathered porphyry and interstratified sandstone is the most common rock, and innumerable caves and shelters are found everywhere. This country, where the natives count only three seasons, the dry, the rainy, and the winter, is occupied almost entirely by the Tarahumari Indians, who, generally speaking, live between 25 j^ and 29 degrees north latitude, i. e., from the pueblo of Temosachic south towards the border of Durango. These people are the present-day cave-dwellers of the American continent. Some of them are permanent cave-dwellers, for there are barrancas and arroyos where cave-dwellers always may be found, but most of them are only temporarily so. The Tarahumaris may change abode several times a year, because they plant corn in diiferent places, and remove their domesticated animals (cattle, sheep and goats) according to the season, and for other reasons known only to themselves. The so-called Christian Tarahumari lives in winter in the village, or pueblo, while he spends the rest of the year at his ranch, generally living in humble wooden shelters, and sometimes in caves. Many at present do not come to the villages at all, as the missionaries taught them: to do, but go into caves in the winter, se encuevan, the Mexicans say. Thus in the neighborhood of Nararachic many Christians are cave-dwellers during the winter, but in the summer most of them leave the caves for fear of the scorpions, tarantulas and "vinagrones" {Telyphonus), which in the warm weather frequent the rocks. Many caves have also within the mem- ory of man been left for good, owing to Mexican occupation of the lands and the Tarahumaris' dislike of being near the whites. As regards the pagans ("gentiles"), who still in considerable numbers are found in the remote barrancas so difficult of access, they all love caves, but their mode of life is shifting. They plant corn high up on the crests of the barrancas in March, and again, when the rains commence in June and July, they descend into these canons to plant corn here. Subsequently they harvest, first upon the high ridges, then in the barrancas, where they retire for the winter to enjoy the warm temperature, living, generally speaking, on the ridges in a kind of wooden house or shelter, and down in the barrancas in caves, or under a big stone, or under a tree, as the case may be. The greatest num- CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. 103 ber of inhabited caves are found in the western part of the Sierra to- wards Sinaloa. It is very seldom indeed that the caves are improved. 1 have in a few cases seen partitions of stone and adobe, but they never reach to the top of the cave. The most common improvement is a stone wall in front of the cave, reaching to a man's breast. Al- most invariably queer little square store-houses or closets of stone and adobe are met with inside the cave, and also round ones in many re- mote and inaccessible places outside. The caves are rarely found in inaccessible places, like some in the United States; if they are difficult of access, they are made accessible by one or two wooden ladders, or, rather, notched trunks of trees. It is hard on tlesh and blood to climb up and down these bar- rancas, working one's way slowly among precipices or in the river running at the bottom, and besides having very little to eat, but all one's troubles are amply repaid by meeting the primitive inhabi- tants of these canons. They cultivate their small fields of corn, beans and tobacco on terraces, exactly of the same kind I have so often seen farther north, abandoned ages and ages ago {trinjeras, the Mexi- cans call them — rffles). They, like their Christian brethren, are in the possession of domesticated animals, and all that usually accom- panies these, also iron implements, but in any other respect they seem to be in the same stage of culture as they were at the time of the con- quest. Spanish is not spoken among them. The women wear a skirt, and the men a breech-cloth around the loins, but they are other- wise naked, covering themselves with tunics, however, in chilly weather. The caves are always found apart, often a mile or more distant, but sometimes only 100 or 200 yards. I have heard of one arroyo where six can be seen at the same time, some thirty or fifty yards between each, but this is a rare case. It is also rare that more than one family lives in the same cave; in that case near relatives. A peculiar custom it is that the Tarahumari father and mother at night leave the house or cave to be taken care of by the children, while they goto sleep under a tree, in the shelter of the store house, or in a cave, according to convenience. Not only the Tarahumaris, but also the Pimas, to the northwest, and the Tepehuanes, to the south, as well as the allied Huarogios, in their limited area to the west, are more or less cave-dwellers, although the majority even of the Tarahumaris live in wooden or stone hovels. I have spent one and a half years among these people, and have taken down fairly complete vocabularies of the Tarahumari, Tepehu- 104 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ane and Tubar languages, having had valuable assistance from my tem- porary companion, Mr. C. V. Hartman. The best part of the last year 1 have lived among the Tarahumaris, who are the most primitive of them all. 1 have generally been accompanied by one or two Mexi- cans, the rest of my party being made up of Indians who carried my things, but 1 also at times have had only Indian companions. I have been fortunate enough to bring back very rich anthropological mate- rial as well as the implements and utensils these people are possessed of, and I shall now take the liberty of making a few remarks on the Ta- rahumaris, such as the time allotted to me permits. Tarahumari {Ta-ra, count; hu-ma-ri, run) means people who run according to count. The name originates from the custom, at the foot-races, to keep an account of the circuits by laying down on the ground as many stones in a row as there are to be circuits, and taking away one stone for each circuit that has been made. They are of medium height and dark brown; hair black and straight. Rare in- stances of wavy hair may be not iced. The people of the barrancas are smaller than those of the highlands, but they are all muscular and singularly able to endure exertion and fatigue. There are probably no greater foot-runners than these people; they outrun any horse, not by speed, but perseverance. Good runners have at the foot-races been known to make over forty miles in six to eight hours, endurance more than speed being the point of the play. They will pursue deer in snow for two or three days until the hoofs drop oiT the animal, and it thus becomes an easy prey. Although their arms are not strong, 1 have had, out of a number of twelve, five lift 1 02 kilos, while three lifted 1 3o kilos. Having got the burden on their backs, these same three carried 102 kilos on level ground 500 feet, without much trouble, although they were all pretty well starved at the time the experiments were made. Their senses are keen, but not very much superior to the senses of those among us who are well endowed in this regard.- They certainly do not feel pain in the same degree as we do. I have taken hair sam- ples from heads of more than fifty, but not one of them minded in the slightest degree having thirty or forty hairs pulled out at the same time. Once six hairs were simultaneously pulled out from a sleep- ing four-year old child, without causing the least disturbance. 1 asked for more, and twenty-three hairs pulled out made the child scratch itself a little at the place, but it continued sleeping. They beckon with their mouth, protruding it and raising the head in the desired direction. CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. 105 Their only weapon is the bow and arrow, the shaft being made generally from reed, sometimes from a kind of salix. The points are long and of hard wood, and the arrow-release is primary. They show considerable artistic sense in the ever varying pretty patterns of their blankets (the looms are worked on the ground) and girdles. Their basket-work is very simple and admits of no compar- ison with the work of the North American Indians. Their pottery is rude, and the best the Tarahumari can produce is red-colored, but in no other way does he understand how to decorate it, differing in this respect entirely from the ancient clitf-dwellers, who have left us some very pretty pottery. He shows only the rudiments of the archi- tectural skill of the ancient cliff-dwellers, and he does not tame the turkey or the eagle, or other birds or animals. One certainly must admire the dexterity, and even ingenuity, these people show in trapping animals. Even horses have been known to be caught and hoisted up in the snares laid for the foot of the deer, and thus killed. Every day he either sets his traps for deer or smaller animals, or he goes hunting with his bow and arrow or his axe. In order to get at the squirrels he will cut down six or more big pine trees, a whole day's work for a small animal, which he carries home hidden in his blanket, that nobody may see it and help him to eat it. The fish are poisoned wholesale in April and May, different kinds of plants being used for the purpose, especially Palo de la Flecha. The principal food \s pinole of corn, and meat of squirrels, rats, mice, snakes, etc., etc. The greater part of the corn is used for the making of native beer. The Tarahumari's store of corn is gone by February or March, and thus half the year he lives in plenty, while the other half he keeps up a starving existence, subsisting mainly on the heart of the maguey, baked between hot stones {Mescal tatemada), and also on the fruits of Cereus Pilhaya, and other fruits, different herbs, fish, etc. He is quite clever in skinning and stuffing animals and would make an excellent taxidermist, for he goes much into detail and is minute and exact in all his doings. He considers well before he makes a bargain, and in important bargains he consults every member of his family. To strangers he does not sell anything at all. It is a favor he confers upon another to part with any of his belongings, and after- wards the two who made the bargain consider themselves united in a tie of brotherhood, calling each other Na-ra-giia, and confidence is established between the two, almost as much as if they were compadres. 106 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Extremely distrustful of strangers, those who live outside of the beaten tracks will invariably take to their heels, leaving everything be- hind them at the approach of the stranger. They are timid if few in number, but are able to show much bravery when there are several together. However, they are a very peaceful people, and will not do any harm, except when they think themselves injured. In a few hours some hundred or more will unite to kill the offender with arrows. There are two or three barrancas where the Tarahumaris prevent whites from entering, because they are afraid of mines being discov- ered in their territory, which they have learnt means death to them. Very hospitable they are not. In their house or cave is no room for the stranger. If you want to get on with the Tarahumari you must, on arrival, not enter the house, but sit down patiently at thirty to fifty yards' distance, waiting till it may please the paterfamilias to step out and see you. This takes at least fifteen minutes. If he does not know the person, or for other reasons, the visitor may have to wait two hours. Only the dogs enter the houses at once, say these Indians. A Tarahumari visiting another, be it his best friend, is never, except in the case of exceptionally bad weather, asked to stay for the night in his house. He goes and sleeps under a tree, or a big stone. Food, however, is always given the visitor, if he be an Indian. These people have a great variety of games and plays, the favorite being foot-racing. The women also race, but do not toss the ball with their feet like the men; they throw it with wooden forks as they run along. Another mode is to throw rings with sticks as they run. " Quinze " and " cuatro " and dice of knucklebone are commonly met with. The play "Lechugia" should be mentioned, and there are also the contests in arrow-shooting between two men, and the Ta- kwa-riy women playing with a ball to be beaten to a certain goal. Although in all bargains a Tarahumari is just and reliable, he will steal if he thinks himself quite safe and unobserved. Between them- selves this is not often the case, but quite recently an instance came to my notice of two Tarahumaris, who had been stealing in a certain bar. ranca, being summarily dealt with. They were hanged, and arrows shot through their bodies. They are very critical one with the other, and a great deal of gossip goes on. Hence probably the reason that they are so bashful. They are not specially lovers of truth, and are false and revengeful. The women are chaste and object to unions with the Mexicans. Only CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. 107 at their feasts, when they regularly become intoxicated, they, as well as the men, seem to lose all shame. Of marriage ceremonies there are few. The woman seeks the man, and when all has been agreed upon between the parents of the young couple, they all take a seat on the floor; the young couple are covered with a blanket, and admonitions given to both of them. Then the father of the boy gives his daughter-in-law a gourd of native beer, and the father of the girl gives his son-in-law the same; whereupon they all drink and get very drunk. The medicine-men (o-wi-ru-ami— the virtuous) are also the priests. Their function does not appear to be very dilTerent from that of other Northern Indians. But it may interest to hear the names of the diseases of the human body known to these scientists. All sick- nesses have their origin either from the wind or witchcraft. If of the first kind, nobody dies from it. Names of these: Sti-ra-gaa-ga-ri, when the wind settles in the heart. Ae-ma-gaa-go-ri, wind where the liver is. Mau-au-gaa-go-ri, wind in the head. All other diseases are brought about by the wizards, who may put different kinds of ani- mals, like toads, snakes, centipedes, scorpions, etc., in the unfortunate people's bodies, which can only be cured by having the animal drawn out.* There are a few truly excellent remedies of the Sierra used by these doctors, who for instance, with the herba de vivora, pretend to cure even rattlesnake bites, but they generally have recourse to super- natural means, and there are specialists for the different tricks to be performed on the patients. To keep off" small-pox they make fences across the tracks leading to the house, which they also surround by spiny branches of different trees, snake skins, etc., not to forget a cross interwoven with different-colored threads, so as to make a square piece, that is hung to a reed. This last contrivance makes a powerful talisman called [Vi-shi-ma. Similar ones are found on the mummies of Peru. The wizards can make sick or kill by their mere thoughts, but they also use different objects to obtain their ends: lizards, still better the fore-leg of a toad (because it is a good animal, being an active rainmaker, and is never killed by others than the sorcerers), but prin- cipally the humming-bird. It is stripped of all its feathers, and dried, and then enveloped in the cotton of Pochote. To the Tarahumari the humming-bird represents God, and is much mentioned in liis songs. * Really serious diseases seldom call the doctor's skill into play, for the Tarahumaris are an extremely healthy tribe. 108 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. The sorcerers use the things that are high in their estimation to do evil with. The pivot around which the thoughts of these Indians move is rain and native beer, hi their dry country rain is of the utmost im- portance for their crops, and without crops they do not get their su-wee-ki (beer, made from maize). The Indian is inordinately fond of this, besides needing it for his ceremonies. No act of importance can be done without it. Su-wee-ki is given with the mother-milk to the infant to " cure it." The dead do not get rest without this beer being set apart for them, and it is the great remedy in the medicine- man's hands. But never do they think of using it without first having sacrificed a part to their god, who also wants this drink as much as they do. The Mexicans call it Teswaino. In order to make rain, they are in the dry season kept extremely busy dancing to the sun and moon. The sun is called au-nau-ru-a- mi, high father; the moon je-ru-a-mi, high mother. They pray to them in their houses, but generally many join at a certain place to do their worship and prayers by dancing in front of a cross. One or two men use the rattle and sing, while men and women dance. There are different dances in the different seasons, but the principal ones are Yu-ma-ri, a circular dance, and Ru-Hi-bu-ri, a kind of march forward and backward in a line. In the winter Yo-he is used for making snow, which is necessary for a good year. They always sacrifice sheep or goats, or even oxen; formerly it was deer and fish and squir- rels, and still is so in many places. First of all, the beer is sacrificed at the commencement of the ceremonies, the singer throwing up in the air one gourdful to the east, then others to the west, south and north. The same is done to the meat as soon as it is boiled; all the bones have been taken out and no salt put with it. The dance goes on all through the night, and with much earnestness, that the effect of their work may not be spoilt. The pagans generally let one man only dance, to make sure that nothing — for instance, laughter or natural noises— shall interfere with a successful result. The dancing is called Nau-tsha-li o-la-wo-a; this means literally: they are going to work. By dancing they also keep away diseases, besides caterpillars and grasshoppers that eat the corn. For the dead they have three dancing-feasts in one year, the first the smallest, the last the biggest. For a deceased woman they have four, which is also the case if the deceased is a man who has been accustomed to drink Hi-ko-ri. I cannot here enter into de- tails. As thanks for the crops they give several of these dancing- CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE, 109 feasts, the first being the most important. Several basketfuls of ears of corn and twelve fresh stalks are offered to the god, while only a small portion of it is sacrificed, together with all sorts of food. There is not a family that dare eat any part of the corn without having first sacrificed. The Tarahumaris do all kinds of work in common, ploughing, sowing, cleaning the cornfields from weeds, harvesting, tic. The paterfamilias and his household dance morning and evening, sacrific- ing food and beer, and asking the sun for whatever they may want, generally rain. On the third day come the neighbors, perhaps ten to twenty, who get through with their work by noon. After that they drink and get very drunk, for, formal and nice as everything is through the business part of the ceremonies, the debaucheries immed- iately afterwards are repulsive. Fighting and killing is not uncommon at these feasts. A Tarahumari never kills another, except when drunk, for the blood is God's, he says. For the benefit of the moon, who is very efficient in making rain, are made four or five feasts a year. Also three cigarettes are in this case offered under the cross. The medicine-man takes one of them, gives one puff, raising simultaneously the cigarette upwards towards the moon, and saying, Su-ar (Rise) a-mi (yonder) re-pa (upwards)! This is three times repeated. The master of the house and wife do the same, and now all may smoke. The ceremony is in order to cause the smoke to form clouds with the help of the moon. But the Tara- humari rarely smokes tobacco, except at his feasts. He would offend the sun by so doing. Therefore in most cases he smokes only after sunset, or when drunk at the feast. For the sun they each year make a feast of three days on two occasions. Both the sun and the moon are " cured " at the feast by a mixture of different remedies, which the medicine-man tastes first and then throws to the four cardinal points, upward to their father and mother, whom they besides alternately reproach and implore to gain their ends. Their dances are imitations of animals, and their songs implore the animals to help. The birds, who sing in the spring, sing for rain; the crickets, the turtles, the fish, the frogs, all help to make rain, and all dance. The deer in the pairing season taught them to dance their great dance Yu-ma-ri, and the wild turkey taught them their other great dance Ru-tu-bu-ri. The chapparal-cock is a very bad bird. If he passes near by a house, somebody is sure to die. Still, as this bird is no THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the cause of hailstorms, which may be of use before the corn gets big enough to be hurt by them, the help of this evil bird is also implored at a short time of the year, in April and May, and he has his song and his dance. Also the owl, a bird of even worse omen, has for the same purpose his song and dance, but the women are afraid to take part in this. At a feast they may select the songs and dances that answer to the necessities of the season. In Yii-ma-ri and Rii-tu-bu-ri they simply mention all the animals by name with a few character- istics of each one. By their incantations to the animals they also desire to make them multiply, that there may be more for the Indian to eat. In the winter, when they have plenty to eat, they forget their God, but when hard and anxious times come in March and following months, then there is much dancing and sacrificing. Their God comes down and tells them that he wants sheep and beer. Every man will have to kill so many, perhaps two or three, and make beer. And the message immediately goes all over the Sierra, and they all comply with it. A few days later comes another message from God, who has come down at another place, that all the maize will dry up if they don't quickly kill a cow and three white hens, etc. And so it goes on all through the summer, and no rain, and more messages of more sacrifices being required. The Indian argues with his god that he must not be so greedy, but his mouth is shut with the question: What would you say if I asked for a Tarahumari to be killed for me? At last, however, the Indian loses patience. "We are t^red of this now, and won't give any more animals," the chief in Nararachic told me the other day during the continued drought of this year. The newly-born babe is left naked, exposed to the sun, that he may know his new son. Three days old, the babe is " cured " by the medicine-man, who holds it in his arms over the smoke of the moun- tain cypress, and moves it toward the four cardinal points. With a fire-brand he makes three crosses on the forehead, if a boy, or four, if a girl. I must at last mention the worship of plants. There are five kinds of plants, apparently species of mamillaria, which are worshipped by the Tarahumari. They have different qualities, the most pronounced of them being to drive off wizards, diseases, robbers and Apaches. One brings long life, which all the Tarahumaris want; another makes the eyes large so as to see the sorcerers. The most noted and the one most in use is Hi-ko-ri Wa-na-me (superior Hikori), which is be- sides used to make an intoxicating drink, and as a remedy for fever CAVE-DWELLERS OF THE SIERRA MADRE. Ill and snake-bites; it also heals wounds. The Mexicans call it Peyote. This Hikori and the other Hikori are found growing in the ranges to the east of the Mexican Central Railway, and the Tarahumaris have to make the long journey to get them. They have to be on the spot before daylight, to be present when the Hikoris rise, for, according to the Indians, they are covered up at night. These plants are individuals who sing and talk, and Hi-lw-ri IVa-na-me, the intoxicating one, is always very drunk. The Indians are careful not to hurt the plants, and each kind is carried home separately, or they would tight. On their return the Hi-ko-ris are met with great honors and a whole night's feast and dancing; a sheep is sacrificed to them, and they also need beer, which is sprinkled over them. Four of these plants are small, but there is a tlfth, a larger one, called Wa-lu-la Sce-li-a-mi (meaning the great authority), which wants an ox (he will eat the Indian if he does not get it), and which, therefore, scarcely any one can atford to bring. This plant never dies. The sun and the moon are also benefited by Hikoris through the medicine-men, and all diseases are cured by them. All the Hikoris are very virtuous, and they have to be kept in separate rooms by themselves, where they can see nothing bad. Elaborate ceremonies are in use at the feasts where Hikori is drunk by the people to keep them in good health. The medicine-man on the occasion sings and makes much noise with his notched stick, which typifies the strength of Hikori. The women and men of the medicine-man's crew dance, but alone and one at a time. Total abstinence from sexual intercourse for three days be- fore and three days after is required of the medicine-man; one day of the other participants. The name of the women who take part is l^a-ko-ro (stamina) and of the medicine man Tijaa-ja (pistil). Each Hi-ko-ri is worth a goat, and if sold the buyer has to give it a reception similar to the one given it when first it arrived from its country; and every year in the same month of the arrival a feast must be given to it. After four years the plant is useless and is buried in the corner of the house or cave, or even taken back to its country. The names of the Tarahumaris are taken from animals, birds, reptiles, fish and insects. Other names are: La-clm-mii-le (Blood of the squirrel), Om-ru-wi-si (Hunger), Si-ta-wa-cha-li (Breech- cloth), Te-bo-cbi (Stonewall), l^a-la-gae-cbu-lt {0Tph2in), Si-kait- le-a-mi (Gummy eye — Sp., laganoso), Chu-Dii-wa-ki Snotty — Sp., moscoso), and for women, Cho-na-ca-li (Darkness), Ku-roii-su-li (Toasted ear of corn), etc. 112 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. The dead are buried in caves, and remain for one year wandering on earth in the shape of animals. The sorcerers and people who can- not pay the medicine-men always remain so. The Tarahumari is intelligent, and when he learns to read and write, which is extremely rare, his ambition runs very high, to be- come General, Governor of the State, or President of the Republic. 1 do not think their number exceeds 30,000, of which 3,500 or 4,000 are pagans. ORIENTATION. BY A. L. LEWIS, F.C.A. THE orientation or position of buildings in regard to the points of the compass is a subject which has received much attention of late; and when it is remembered that the sides of the ancient Egyptian pyramids and sacred buildings were almost always placed to- ward the cardinal points, while in Chaldea the angles of the most ancient sacred buildings were as universally placed toward those points, it will become evident that there is a possibility of some information being gained as to the origin of other civilizations and the routes by which they have been conveyed by a study of the orientation of buildings and other remains in ditferent places. The object here, however, is nor so much to draw conclusions, or even to state facts, as to relate briefly what investigations have been made into the question. Perhaps the most important papers recently published have been those contributed to Nature by Prof. Norman Lockyer, F.R.S., who has endeavored to show that some of the temples of Egypt were set to face the sunrise at certain periods of the year, and were, in fact, observatories by means of which the priests were able to make calcu- lations useful for material as well as for religious purposes; and that, as the point of sunrise altered in the course of cen turies, new temples were built on or adjoining the older sites, but in a different line, suita- ble to the altered position of the sunrise; and he hopes that the dates of many of these buildings, and of the kings in whose reigns they were built, may ultimately be fixed by astronomical data obtained from their position. In addition to this, Prof. Norman Lockyer has found that many of the Egyptian temples were apparently set toward some star in the neighborhood of the pole, and he hopes t o fix dates for these buildings also by astronomical calculations. In his last com- munication,* Prof. Norman Lockyer suggests that those Egyptian cities of which the walls trend northeasterly and southwesterly, and northwesterly and southeasterly, as at On and Thebes, were *Naiure, May 18, 1893. 113 114 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the seat of an early solstitial sun-worship, associated with the rise of the Nile and with the observance of a star rising in the north, and that these were superseded for a time by an equinoctial form of sun-worship, accompanied by the worship of a star rising in the east, brought in by invaders, probably from Chaldea, who built Memphis and other cities, the walls of which faced the cardinal points, and who also built the pyramids; and he attributes many of the wars and revolutions of ancient Egypt to the struggle for supremacy and alternate success and defeat of the different races which practiced these various forms of sun-worship. Prof. Norman Lockyer has probably much to do before his views are fully accepted by Egyptologists, but he has at least made it clear that anthropologists cannot safely neglect the study of orientation. In Syria and Greece many of the temples have their angles rather than their sides toward the cardinal points. This may be because their builders worked under a Chaldean rather than under an Egyptian in- fluence, or it may be because both in Greece and Chaldea the sun at the summer solstice rises further to the north of east than in Egypt, and that the axes of the buildings have been set to the rising point of the sun at midsummer. Prof. Norman Lockyer considers that it was because the floods of the Tigris and Euphrates, necessary, like those of the Nile, for agricultural purposes, took place at a different time of year from those of the latter river. Mr. F. C. Penrose has been investigating the bearings of Greek temples, and has communicated the results of his investigation to the Royal Society.* He finds that some of the older temples were set to- ward certain stars, and altered afterwards as the rising point of those stars shifted, and he gives a list of twenty-seven temples which appear to have been arranged for a solstitial solar bearing, as against seven not so arranged, in some of which latter, moreover, the absence of such arrangement is capable of explanation. The orientation of mediaeval churches has long been a subject of discussion and inquiry amongst architects and arch^ologists. In France and Britain the axis of old churches is almost invariably, roughly speaking, east and west, but in Italy there is no such rule, and the churches stand in all positions, so that this form of orientation is not of Roman, but of British or Gallic origin. While, however, the churches of Britain and France stand, roughly speaking, east and See abstract of his paper in Nature, Alay 11, 1893. ORIENTATION. 115 west, there are many variations, mostly in a northeasterly direction, the origin and purpose of which have been the cause of the discussions 1 have referred to. it has been suggested that the chancel was so placed that the sun should shine in at the east window on rising on the day dedicated to the patron saint of the church, but this theory does not seem to fit all the facts, even after allowing for the ditticulty of ascer- taining to whom the first church built on any site was dedicated. In any case the custom would appear to be associated in some way with sun-worship, if only as transforming it into saint-worship in order to suppress it. It is known that most of the highest hills in the Grecian islands were dedicated firstly to Helios (the sun) and afterwards, as the most easy transition, to St. Elias; and it was in pursuance of this cus- tom of dedicating the highest hills to that prophet that the Russian ad- herents of the Greek Church called the highest point of Alaska Mount St. Elias. From the temples of Egypt and Babylonia to British medieval churches seems a long step, but there may be a connecting link, and 1 must, in conclusion, briefly notice the ancient structures which may form that link, and with which I personally have chiefly concerned myself during the last thirty years. The stone circles, which are more numerous and larger in Britain than in any other part of Europe, have apparently been used in some kind of observance of the sun, and perhaps of the stars. In Egypt the plan was to construct a number of chambers communicating with each other by narrowing doorways, so that the ray from the sun or star should at the right time shine through them all into the holy of holies. In Britain the plan appears usually to have been to place a stone out- side the circle, as at Stonehenge, or to place the circle in such a posi- tion with regard to some prominent hill that the sun should appear from the circle to rise over the latter, and I have found several instances in which circles were so placed, sometimes with regard to single sum- mits, and sometimes with regard to groups of three hills, or to a hill presenting the appearance of a tripie summit. It is a remarkable co- incidence that the Akkadians of Chaldea called the northeast the car- dinal point of the mountains, and that it is to the northeast of many of the British circles that the principal hills in the neighborhood and particularly the triple summits are found; and that the Akkadians called the southeast the funeral point, and that most of the sepulchral stone chambers in Britain open toward some point between south and east. If, however, these similarities suggest a community of thought 116 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. between the Chaldeans and the circle-builders of Britain, it must be observed that there are other circles in which the north seems to have been the principal point regarded, and that the measurements in and between some of these are multiples of an Egyptian or royal Persian cubit of 25.1 inches. Details respecting all these points with some illustrations are given at considerable length in three papers which I send herewith for the library of the Department of Ethnology and Archeology of the Columbian Exposition. A series of articles which 1 am contributing to the New York publication. Science, will also con- tain many details upon this subject.* In saying that the circles may be a connecting link between the most ancient temples and the mediaeval churches, 1 need hardly point out that while there may have been a direct connection between the circle-builders and the chuich-builders, none has yet been shown be- tween the circle-builders and the architects of Egypt, Babylonia or Greece. It is in the discovery of this association that the anthropol- ogist has still much work to do, in which a study of the questions connected with orientation may possibly be found of assistance to him. *No. 1, Abury, published March 24, 1893. No. 2, Stonehenge, published May 19, 1893. No. 3, Derbyshire Circles, published July 14, 1893. THE TUMULI OF HAMPSHIRE AS A CENTRAL GROUP OF THE TUMULI OF BRITAIN. BY JOHN S. D. PHENE, LL.D., F.S.A. [Abstract.] THE author stated that to speak of the tumuli of Hampshire of to- day is simply to speak of the tumuli which still exist in an area around the great historical and, as correctly, the great prehis- torical, city of Winchester. But prehistoric archeology is not fettered by the boundaries of this or that county, and in order to comprehend the subject, "The Tumuli of Hampshire," it is necessary that the tumuli of the period, perhaps periods, of their creation, unlimited by boundaries of shires or counties, be taken into account. There was clearly design in the placing and arranging of the tumuli, which spoke to the wayfarer in no uncertain language of dis- tance, of danger, and of rest. In the Isle of Wight is found repeatedly a solitary tumulus just before coming to an abrupt valley; so abrupt as to constitute it a precipice, or at least a descent where a wayfarer might, in a fog or mist, soon get lost; and this, in more instances than one, guarding the way on both sides of the danger. In like man- ner, in the Isle of Wight, Dorsetshire, Berkshire, Oxfordshire, and the ancient routes leading to and from such localities, are certain ter- raced works surrounding the areas occupied by special tumuli, which seem to imply protection of sacred precincts. On the Downs such ter- raced works are almost always placed from the northeast to the north- west sides of the hills, and they may have been for warlike defense, as well as for securing sanctity. The most carefully-guarded of these hills are surmounted by tumuli arranged in studied and symmetrical forms, and these forms correspond to similarly-arranged designs found alike in America, Greece, Ireland, Spain, France, and other countries. At New Grange, Ireland, and in the Isle of Wight, are serpent- mounds similar in design, or intent, to that of Adams County, Ohio. In the Isle of Wight the position of the serpent's head is indicated by three mounds, two of them representing the extended jaws, with the third mound between them, just in the attitude which, were the object a solid and continuous serpent, the jaws and the object about to be de- ar 118 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY, voured would take. With few exceptions, the form of the soHd and continuous serpent was that which pursued the sun's course, and which, therefore, may be described as the Serpent of Life; and the ser- pent formed by mounds, which were invariably sepulchral, was gener- ally from north to south, and it is, therefore, the serpent of the dead, or the Serpent of Death. Interments in the solid and continuous ser- pent occur only in two parts, each of which was evidently a place of great veneration: the head of the serpent probably including the circular form between or near the extended jaws, on which has almost invariably been found an altar of worship, and the highest central curvature of the body perhaps the supposed position of the heart, in which, though not so invariably, have been found objects held sacred by the depositors. The author then referred to the investigations of Mr. Clutterbuck and others, showing that the great ancient roads of Britain, formerly generally looked on as Roman roads, pure and simple, were really pre-Roman British roads, though adopted, and altered into military highways, by the Romans. The traffic of ancient Britain was mainly in metals, and the metals of Cornwall and the west, including Ireland, passed along the great road leading from the west to what are now the Eastern Counties. The line of tumuli along this route marked the line of traffic; sundry bifurcations occurred. The trade to the Isle of Wight was intermediate, and the track is marked by tumuli, which occur only in a narrow line, and are graves of the traders. There is the great stone of exchange, which accords with that in Brittany. The tumuli stop abruptly at this point, and, after clustering in symbolical forms on the heights to the west, leave no sign beyond the great stone of traffic and exchange, at Mottistone, the name of which shows that the traffic still continued in the time of the Saxons. The great strong- hold of Hengist Hill, at Hengistbury Head, near Christchurch, in a direct line with the Needles (Isle of Wight), protected a connection that must have existed long after that between Swanage and the Needles had ceased; and the impressive tumuli on St. Catherine's Hill, and on Headon Hill, continued the line of tumuli from the Needles to the Ridgway by the great east and west road. Most of those from Dor- setshire to the Needles, which form a continuous line to Hengistbury, are lost by encroachments of the sea. The two routes joined near Christchurch, and hence the strongly-fortified fort at Hengist Hill, a word which occurs also in Cornwall, meaning the Hill of Horses. It was remarked, finally, that the vast figures, produced by THE TUMULI OF HAMPSHIRE, ETC. 119 incisions in the chalk hills along the route here referred to, are near groups of tumuli evidently belonging to the same period and people. Near the figure at Wilmington, in Sussex, a large quantity of bronze and flint implements were found; as also at the figure on the Gogma- gog Hills. Similar discoveries have been made at Cerne Abbas in Dorsetshire. The White Horse in Berkshire appears to have been the turning-point from the Ridgway southward to the great marts at Stonehenge, which means the " horse-stone," and the south and south- eastern ports. NATURAL HISTORY OF FLAKED STONE IMPLEMENTS. BY W. H. HOLMES. AS a result of investigations carried on under the auspices of the Bureau of Ethnology I have accumulated a large body of material relating to the origin, manufacture and distribution of primitive forms of stone implements. Series of the articles col- lected have been placed on exhibition in the Government building, and it seems appropriate that something should be said in this con- gress relating to them and to their bearing upon the archasologic ques- tions of the day. 1 do not, however, desire to deal with these collections specifi- cally, to describe them or review their history, but to present an analysis of the group of phenomena to which they belong. Thorough analysis of the subject matter of investigation is at the basis of its in- telligent consideration. Inferences and conclusions based on a given body of data are unsafe if all the available elements of these data have not been properly considered, and they must still be unsatisfactory if through necessity or oversight any of the elements have been omitted. When analysis is complete classification is easy, consideration is simple, and results are safe, even if not final. The very general incompleteness and obscurity of the available phenomena of archseologic science, especially in the earlier stages, are well known, and students find it necessary to go over and over again the meager and heterogeneous array of material and to redouble the precautions against misinterpretations and hasty conclusions. History is difficult to read correctly even when the peoples and the whole range of their cultural creations are in full view. Historical investi- gations based on the scattered relics of a vanished people must be entered upon with the greatest caution. We focus all the light of the present and of the past upon the minutest fields of the remote past, striving thus to read more clearly the obscure characters of the record. No apology is necessary, therefore, for assuming to present here a somewhat exhaustive analysis of that particular group of art remains upon which we must mainly depend for our knowledge of primeval days. 120 NATURAL HISTORY OF FLAKED STONE IMPLEMENTS. 121 OUTLINE OF STUDY. In a paper read at Madison, a few days ago, I attempted to give flaked stone art its proper place among the shaping arts, to trace its history from the earliest beginnings up through the stages that mark the progress of culture evolution. It was shown that the flaking of stone was a primal art and that flaked implements are probably the most ancient and elemental existing representatives of human handi- craft. If other forms preceded them, they were of destructible mate- rials, and have long since disappeared. The first flake was probably made by casting one stone against another without premeditation or design. From that primal step, once observed and designedly utilized^, there has been a gradual progress by infinitesimal advances in tech- nique, through the stages and the ages, ending in the manifold and wonderful works of the present day. In the study of flaked stone implements the first necessary step is their identification as implements as distinguished from the many allied forms, natural and artificial, that have no claims to be called such. The second step is a consideration of their natural history, which embodies two distinct lines of development, one of the indi- vidual from its inception in the raw material, through a series of steps of technical progress, to the finished result; the other of the species or group from a primal culture germ through countless genera- tions of implements; with these goes the evolution of form and func- tion. The third step consists in regarding implements as historic rec- ords, first, with reference to questions of time; second, with regard to questions of culture, and, third, with respect to the history of peo- ples. A grouping of these topics and their subdivisions, approxi- mately as treated in these pages, is given in the accompanying synopsis. 122 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. u C3 c^ to -4-* S — <1> o 3 o o q= XJ >- C T3 T3 V J V -!-• c t^ u ca ;-• S -i-> ^ C4 I/) 3 3 on T3 tj trt L* «J -4-* '^v" o 1 3_i on y s 5 3 O o 'C -a V) ^ '-^M > •5 a* c o c o. "^ OJ V PS 1^ CJ C4. c« 1 . o C ^ lU -4-» 0) T! U, P o U1 C!S < c >> ^ o nt -4-i 4= in -4^ J3 o -4-' t« < 0.!:i ^ — z: -^^ -!-■ 00 O C 4i •a o 00 c 1/1 o TJ o at t/i .y O c E . ri 1J ^^ « n CD b£. 3 CQ T3 = . ^ - -^^ Sac ^1 .- . .. C rt C — C -u if, Ji ^ ■Ox, « — - _ .. a u o o H' 's_Prifnal impl^m*:nfA DIAGRAM IV. EVOLUTION OF SPECIES OF STONE IMPLEMENTS BY I>n FEKENTATION AND SPECIALIZATION. NATURAL HISTORY OF FLAKED STONE IMPLEMENTS. l39 by superficial characters for convenience of description, but as phe- nomena to be rightly understood only through their relationships with the whole scheme of nature, viewed in the light of evolution. It has been shown that the utilization of works of art as the materials of history is unsafe until the whole group of phenomena has been con- sidered with respect to origin, genesis and all the details of morphol- ogy and development. CACHE FINDS FROM ANCIENT VILLAGE SITES IN NEW JERSEY. BY ERNEST VOLK. IT has been stated that the rudely chipped argillites so frequently found on the gravel and village sites in the Delaware Valley were nothing further than rejects made by the recent Indian. Able and efficient men have discussed this subject time and again, and much has been said for and against the statement. My recent explorations in the Delaware Valley have brought facts to my knowledge which bear, 1 think, upon this subject, and I will relate them here in brief on the contents of pits and caches on old vil- lage sites near Trenton, New Jersey. A paper read by me at the Madison meeting of the A. A. A. S. a short time ago states that argillite was used dilferently, in manufacturing implements on or near the surface, than by its earlier comers, whose traces lay nearly 3^ feet below those of the last occupants of that locality. We find on examining the lowland village site that we have many pits on the northern end of the village that come within nine or ten inches of the present surface. These were undoubtedly the latest ones in use, and among these we have several that contain exclusively nothing but very thin argillite chips— in all the higher pits — that is, in those that are reaching near the surface. Two of these especially have round black chert pebbles, much worn by use; also round quartzite pebbles of small size are found with them among the chips. These pebbles have been apparently used in detaching the thin chips from a ruder body already reduced to a smaller size; in other words, these chips were made in tlnishing an implement. The soil in this locality is of a sandy leaf mould and loam, and does not contain a single stone or pebble naturally; therefore all we find here were brought by these people. The Delaware River, which is only about one mile off to the southwest, is the only source from which this material could have been brought. The argillite being plentiful there, there is no reason why these people should not have made use of it, the same as they did of the large flat stones and the large water-worn pestle-shaped pebbles of which we have found so 140 CACHE FINDS FROM ANCIENT VILLAGE SITES IN NEW JERSEY. 141 many in the pits. Among these pits we find also near the surface a cache of rudely chipped argillites, one here and one on the high- land or terrace village site. This contains fifteen specimens ten inches below the surface, and the other on the highland is thirteen inches below the surface and contains seventeen specimens. They are in both cases arranged in three layers, the lower one being the largest in space, the top one the smallest, the specimens touching each other. These have apparently been stowed away to be finished at leisure. The several pits near the surface, and really all the thin chips found in those upper pits, are evidently the result of a finishing pro- cess upon those argillites, rudely chipped somewhere else and brought into camp to be finished. In the summer of 1891 1 examined forty-six miles of the shore and bed of the Delaware River, as far up as Milford, New Jersey, which is ten miles above the argillite outcrop at Point Pleasant and thirty-four miles above Trenton, and 1 went as far as twelve miles below that city. In these trips along the shore and bed of the Dela- ware I noticed a continuous line of workshops, where exclusively argillite was worked. Many were situated on the blufi^, but more in the so-called spring freshet line or wash-out. They all contained rude flakes of argillite, together with broken quartzite pebbles evidently used as hammer-stones. Here argillite was rudely chipped and then taken away, to be finished at home. I stated this two years ago in my notes on river explorations for the World's Columbian Exposition. The pits of argillite chips showing the total absence of rude or course flakes, and the caches showing the rudely chipped argillites, would necessarily give rise to the question: Can those rudely chipped argillites be called rejects? A few more facts will help to throw further light upon the sub- ject. There seems to be a great ditference in the rude chipping of argillite, not only in the way of chipping, but also in the nature of the material and the knowledge of the difference by the operator. The specimens that are found on and in the gravel of the Dela- ware are, as a rule, very thick, with a still thicker part, the so-called butt-end, and that notorious hump which has caused the name " turtleback" and cannot be mistaken for the quarry specimens from Point Pleasant quarry, explored by Mr. Mercer, of Doylestown. These specimens are much flatter and thinner and show less flake faces, and no hump nor butt at all. These chippings are undoubtedly due to the full knowledge of the cleavage by the operator of the unex- 142 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. pose solid rock; consequently the mining or quarrying of the same. This knowledge must have been the result of the chipping of the river material and succeeded the same. Another is the manufacturing of implements from flakes of argillite. Such were apparently saved and stored away for future use, as the cache on the lowland village site in my collection plainly illustrates. It was seemingly a wasteful way to these last inhabitants of this place to begin to manufacture a small implement out of a large piece of material or rock and to have so much material to get away with. It is also an evidence of advanced skill over that of the first comers at this habitation site, and a proof that a smaller imple- ment had become necessary to them. The manufacture of imple- ments from flakes is not new, and we find in the collection of Mr. G . A. Dorsey, from Peru, flint flakes of a rude nature stored in a net bag, together with the hafted arrow-points of the same material, all found with a skeleton in a grave. The existence of rejects in places where chipping has been done can not be disputed, but neither can we classify all rude chipped argillites as rejects or unfinished implements. An extensive study of the art of chipping, especially of this material, is necessary to enable the student to identify the rude implements from the unfinished ones and from the rejects. Some of the rude forms we find in the cache in the terrace vil- lage site (Wright's field) bear a striking resemblance to those speci- mens generally found on and in the gravel in the Delaware Valley. The accompanying illustrations show twelve of the seventeen specimens found in the highland cache, face and edge view of each specimen. ETHNOLOGY. 143 ETHNOLOGY. ON VARIOUS SUPPOSED RELATIONS BETWEEN THE AMERICAN AND ASIAN RACES. BY D. G. BRINTON. THE isolation of the Ainerican race from the earliest prehistoric times seems to have been so complete that any positive evi- dence that it was perceptibly influenced in its development, either physical or psychical, by any other race, is exceedingly scant, if it exists at all. As for myself, though certainly willing to welcome any clear testimony to such influence, I have been unable to find any which will bear even slight examination. To illustrate this, I shall in this paper briefly review a number of recent assertions as to the sup- posed relations between the American and Asian races in compara- tively recent or ancient times, and see if they have any real bearing on the question, or are of value in its solution. 1 should naturally begin with a study of the alleged physical re- semblances between the two races; but I may be dispensed from that, as but a few years ago 1 had the honor of reading before the Ameri- can Association a paper disproving the alleged Mongoloid resemblances of the American race.* When this paper was published, it was vigor- ously attacked by Dr. Ten Kate, but has since been amply supported by the researches of Fritsch, of Berlin, on the hair of the American Indians, and of Virchow, on their skulls. In the Compte Rendu of the Congress of Americanists for 1890, Dr. Ten Kate, indeed, repeats his Mongoloid theory, offering no new evidence, but is astonished and sad at the defection of his fellow-countrymen, especially Fritsch, from his favorite hypothesis. The defection, however, is steadily growing, and Dr. Ten Kate will soon be the only ethnic anatomist of repute who lays much stress on the points of resemblance he has noted. Of late, much more has been made of the resemblances of arts, religions, traditions symbolisms and languages, than of physical ♦Reprinted in my Essays of an c/!mcncanisf, pp. 55-66 (Phila. 1S90). 145 146 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. traits; so to these mental products I shall now turn, to see what they are alleged to otTer in proof of some former connection between the people of the two continents. Of course, everybody knows that across the narrow straits of Behring there has been going on a commercial interchange for untold generations. For time out of mind, several large fairs have been annually held on the west coast of Alaska at various points to which representatives of Asiatic tribes journeyed, bringing with them the products peculiar to their continent, including slaves, both male and female, which were bartered for such American commodities as were desired. In an article printed about a year ago, I gave, from infor- mation furnished me by officers of our navy, the localities and seasons of these fairs.* By this agency many articles from various parts of Siberia, and doubtless also many customs, and more or less Asiatic blood, were introduced into the tribes of the extreme Northwest, the Tlinkit, the Tinneh, and especially the Eskimos. Through this channel I would explain the transmission of the Chinese temple-coins found as the eye-pieces of a wooden mask in an ancient Chilcat grave by Lieut. T. Dix BoUes, a few years ago.f He acknowledges that the objects could claim no great antiquity, as the mask still retained, even in that wet climate, a sparse fringe of human hair around it. He guesses the age of the grave at two hundred years, which we may well allow. To the same source we may attribute those customs of the West- ern Eskimo to which Mr. John Murdoch has assigned a Siberian origin, such as the general use of tobacco in pipes of a peculiar form; the employment of nets in fishing; and the art of catching fowls by means of small stones at the end of a cord, known as " bird-bolas." Mr. Murdoch does not pretend that these testify to any very ancient communications between the two continents; on the contrary, his words are: " That these customs were acquired at a comparatively recent date is shown by the fact that they all stop short at Cape Bathurst."t The Asiatic origin of the Eskimos has been a favorite subject with several recent writers. They are quite dissatisfied if they cannot at least lop these hyperboreans from the American stem, and graft * Printed in Science, May 20, 1S92. f Bolles, " On Chinese Relics in Alaska," in Proc. National Museum, Vol. XV. X Murdoch, in American Anthropologist, October, 1888. ON VARIOUS SUPPOSED RELATIONS, ETC. 147 them on some Asian stock. That worthy student, the Abbe Emile Petitot, has published in the Bulletin de la. Societe Normande de Geographie, for 1890, a brief setting forth this side of the case. He marshals the evidence, first, from the traditions of the Eskimo, which he asserts trace the ancestral horde back to Asia; secondly, he presents what he claims are numerous linguistic analogies of the Eskimo to the Ural-Altaic tongues; and he concludes by pointing out many resem- blances in customs. It seriously militates against the supposed lin- guistic analogies that they are denied flatly by Dr. Heinrich Winkler, probably as good an authority as any on the Ural-Altaic tongues; while the value of tradition on this question cannot be rated very high, and the similarities of custom are such as obtain between any two tribes of about the same grade of culture the world over. The recklessness with which such statements are sometimes made is illustrated by the following sentence beginning a paper by M. Desire Charnay in the Compte Rendu of the Vlllth session of the Congress of Americanists: " The traditions of the civilized peoples of America state that they came from Asia, and all speak of their rafts and houses of wood, acalli, in which the emigrants crossed Behring Straits." The assumption in this sentence that the early nations of Mexico were acquainted with the continent of Asia and the Straits of Behring is something sublime in its audacity. The writer goes on to find anal- ogies between the culture and customs of Mexico and those of China, Cambodia, Assyria, Chaldea and Asia Minor. 1 grant he finds plenty, but I ask, Are we therefore to transport all these ancient peoples, or representatives of them, into Mexico? What kind of analogies are those on which these writers rely to establish their thesis of an Asiatic immigration? I shall quote a num- ber advanced by that excellent antiquary, M. Eugene Boban, in a work published in Paris last year.* He says that certain of the Mexican tribes are " bien certainement" of Chinese origin, because they have arts which are just alike. Both nations, for instance, made paper; both tanned leather, cut and polished precious stones, worked feathers into dresses and ornaments, moulded pottery, cultivated gardens, named their children after stars and flowers, and so on. He well says that he could ** remplir bien des pages" with such analogies. So he could: as that the people of both nations slept at night; that they ate Catalogue Raisoinice de la Collection Goiiptl, Tome II., pp. 65, 66. 148 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. both meat and vegetables when they could get them; that they wore clothing when it was cold, and equally surprising coincidences. But the inner stronghold of those who defend the Asiatic origin of Mexican and Central American civilization is, I am well aware, de- fended by no such feeble outposts as these, but by a triple line of in- trenchment, consisting respectively of the Mexican calendar, the game of patoUi, and the presence of Asiatic jade in America. I shall attack them seriatim: and first for the calendar. Alexander von Humboldt is responsible for assigning to the calendar in use before the conquest throughout much of Mexico and Central America an Asiatic origin. He declared that it was derived from that in current use by Thibetan and Tartar tribes; and so great has been the weight of his authority that even such a writer as Dr. Edward B. Tylor does not hesitate to say that Humboldt " proved " this assertion;* and the learned Mexican archaeologist, the late Orozco y Berra, also accepted it without hesitation. f Yet, in fact, there is absolutely no similarity between the Thibetan calendar and the primitive form of the American, as we find it among the Zapotecas, which form Orozco y Berra himself acknowledged was at the basis of all others found in Mexico or the adjacent regions. The American calendar was not intended as a year-count, but as a ritual and formulary. Its signs had nothing to do with the signs of the zodiac, as had' all those in the Thibetan and Tartar calendars; and, moreover, we can trace it developing in quite different directions during the process in various tribes of bringing it into relation with the civil year-count. No one who will carefully trace the evolution of the Mexican calendar through the variations it assumed among the Maya tribes, the Nahuas, the Tarascos and the Mixtecas, can harbor any further doubt about it being a wholly indigenous American pro- duction. Humboldt himself said that the calendar of the Chibchas of South America more closely resembled those of Central Asia than did that of Mexico. I next turn to the game of patolli, which, according to Dr. Ed- ward B. Tylor, was an adaptation by the ancient Mexicans of the game oi parchesi, familiar to-day in Hindostari.J It is a game allied to backgammon, and in Mexico was played with beans marked on one * In the Journal of the Anthropological Institute of Great Britain, 1S78. t In his Historia Antigua de Mexico, Tom HL, cap. VIU. (Mexico, 1880.) I Dr. Tyler's article is in the Journal of the Anthropological Institute for 1878. ON VARIOUS SUPPOSED RELATIONS, ETC. 149 side, which took the place of dice. This game has lately been made the subject of careful study by Mr. Culin, of the University of Penn- sylvania, and Mr. Frank Gushing:, of the Bureau of Ethnology; and 1 am authorized to say that both these competent authorities agree that there can be no doubt but that patolli is thoroughly American in origin, no matter how closely it assimilates the East Indian game. Having disposed of the calendar and patolli, 1 shall next pick up the article of jade, and sec what it tells us about the Asian immigra- tion, growing now somewhat hazy. Jade and its significance is a favorite subject with our distinguished member, Professor Putnam, and he has in various passages of his reports of the Peabody Museum at Cambridge spoken of the potent testimony it renders to the ancient commerce and interchange of arts and art-products between America and Asia. The force of the argument lies in the assumption that cer- tain ancient implements of this material discovered in America are in a variety of it not obtainable outside of Southern Asia. Professor Putnam and his associates in this opinion are not will- ing to accept the decision of Dr. A. B. Meyer, of Dresden, that jade, jadeite and nephrite are found so widely over the world, and of so many varieties, that it is no longer admissible to found upon them an ethnologic theory; they have not been convinced by the admirably thorough paper by Dr. Virchow before the Congress of Americanists, in 1888, indorsing fully the opinion of Dr. Meyer; they reject the words of that competent authority, Dieck, at the same congress, when he said: ' ' We have no occasion to call in the aid of a Mongoloid or Asiatic immigration to explain the presence of these green-stone tools in America." More than this, they seem to be undisturbed by the yearly discovery of more and more localities where jade is found in situ on this continent, and the presentation of objects in this stone from new regions, as those sent by Dr. Ernst from Venezuela. Others, however, must admit that no variety of jade whatever, from a purely mineralogical point of view, can attest ethnic wanderings. It seems scarcely worth while seriously to consider the evidence brought forward from tradition and so-called pre-Columbian history. The hoariest records there are anywhere in America trace the migra- tions of tribes for not more than a very few centuries previous to the dis- covery by Columbus; and, by any fair construction, never beyond a short distance from the nation's central station. Even with regard to the ample and reasonably ancient traditions of the Nahuas, of the Valley of Mexico, we may safely adopt the opinion of the learned 150 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Ramirez, that the geographical area to which they refer will scarcely carry us beyond the limits of the valley itself. That there should be frequent parallelisms in the religious tradi- tions, the myths, and the stories of gods and demi-gods, will surprise no one who has extended his studies of comparative mythology over ihe savage races of all continents. The development of the religious sentiment, the gropings of man in the dark, to find out and define to his intelligence the mysterious power which masters the storm, moves the stars, and visits death and life, fate and fortune, on the sons of men, bear in all times and climes an almost fixed relation to the gen- eral intellectual development of the individual and the community. The same is substantially true of folk-lore and of many institutions of social life and family ties. The day is certainly past when an eth- nologist of ripe culture will prefer the genealogic to the anthropologic explanation of such similarities, even if they progress to identities. The same is doubly true of symbolism. 1 do not deny that we find on American soil and among primitive American tribes the sacred symbols of the Orient, svastika of the Aryans, the lai hi of the Chi- nese, the cross of Christianity, The circle, the quadrilateral, the tri- angle, the serpent, the bird and the tree, the sacred numbers three, four and seven, the significant members, the hand, the tongue and the phallus — all these and many more possessed to the dark-hued tribes of America as mysterious and as pregnant a significance as they did to the worshipers in the temples by the Nile, or to the white- robed priests in the isles of Greece. This is, indeed, matter of amazement, food for reflection; but our amazement springs from the consideration how man, everywhere different, is yet everywhere the same; and our reflection is that, what- soever is his history, by whatsoever environment he is surrounded, in his slow progress from the darkness of savagery to the light of civili- zation he treads the same path, aids himself by the same weak sup- ports, and seeks the same material wrappings in which to swathe the feeble progeny of his intellect and imagination. I have reserved for the last the linguistic question: Do any of the numerous languages and innumerable dialects of America present any affinities, judged by the standards of the best modern linguistic schools, which would bring them into genetic relationship with any of the dialects of Asia.? I believe I have a right to speak with some authority on this sub- ject, for the American languages have constituted the principal study ON VARIOUS SUPPOSED RELATIONS, ETC. 15 I of my life; and I say unhesitatingly that no such at^lnities have been shown; and 1 say this with an abundant acquaintance with such works ^•s The Prehistoric Comparative Philology oi Dr. Hyde Clarke; with the writings of the Rev. John Campibell, who has discovered the Hittite language in America before we have learned where it was in Asia; with the laborious Comparative Philology of Mr. R. P. Greg; with the Amerikanisch-Asiatische Etymologieii of the ardent Am- ericanist Mr. Julius Platzmann; with the proof that the Nahuatl is an Aryan language, furnished by the late director of the National Mu- seum of Mexico, Senor Gumesindo Mendoza; with Varnhagen's array of evidence that the Tupi and Carib are Turanian dialects imported into Brazil from Siberia; with the Abbe Petitot's conviction that the Tinneh of Canada is a Semitic dialect; with Naxera's identitication of the Otomi with the Chinese; and with many more such scientific vagaries which, in the auctioneer's phrase, are too tedious to mention. When I see volumes of this character, many involving prolonged and arduous research on the part of the authors and a corresponding sacrifice of pleasant things in other directions, I am affected by a sense of deep commiseration for able men who expend their efforts in pur- suit of such will-o'-the-wisps of science, panting along roads which lead nowhere, inattentive to the guide-posts which alone can direct them to solid ground. What one of the works 1 have mentioned respects those prin- ciples of phonetic variation, of systematic derivation, of the historic comparison of languages, of grammatic evolution, of morphologic development, which are as accurately known to-day as the laws of chemistry or electricity? Not one of them. And yet to attempt comparisons in disregard of these laws is as insensate as to start on an ocean voyage without a compass or an instrument of observation. The craft is lost as soon as it is out of sight of land. 1 maintain, therefore, in conclusion, that up to the present time there has not been shown a single dialect, not an art nor an institu- tion, not a myth or religious rite, not a domesticated plant or animal, not a tool, weapon, game or symbol, in use in America at the time of the discovery, which had been previously imported from Asia, or from any other continent of the Old World. BARK CLOTH. BY WALTER HOUGH. [Abstract.] THE paper described the process of producing a useful fabric from the bast of certain trees, softened and extended by beating with grooved clubs, and the finished cloth; or felt of various degrees of texture, from that of the Talamancas of Costa Rica to the delicate stuffs made by the Polynesians. The necessity of the employment of the club with grooves v/as explained, and the usual appearance of this feature wherever bark cloth is made, or where bark is softened, as on the northwest coast of America. The connection of the grooved stones found in Mexico and southward with this art was pointed out. The range of the bark cloth industry was shown to be very wide. It includes Central America, the West Indies, South America, Africa, among nearly all tribes, India, the Pacific Islands to the extreme out- lier Easter Island. The Australians pound out bark to make bags. Ancient classical references were given from Strabo and Theo- phrastus, and in India from the Vinaya Mahavagga and the Jataka. The multifarious uses of bark for paper-making, basketry, mat- making, cordage, utensils, etc., etc., were spoken of. It was pointed out that for the production of stuffs for clothing, etc, , the bark-beating apparatus has in most cases preceded the loom. This industry is almost wholly confined to tropical or sub-trop- ical countries, depending upon the range of trees in which the filaments of the bast are interlaced. 152 LOVE SONGS AMONG THE OMAHA INDIANS. BY ALICE C. FLETCHER. IT is well known that Indian ceremonies, both religious and secular, are enveloped in song. Public ceremonies and all ordinary avoca- tions can be observed without difficulty, but many obstacles arise when a student would penetrate into the mysteries of secret societies and ceremonials, and these obstacles increase as he approaches the In- dian's personal habits and experiences. As a result of these obstacles, which are enhanced by the Indian's shyness and reserve upon all per- sonal matters, the statement has gone abroad that he, whose every act is set to music, so to speak, is silent when moved by the emotion of love, and that he knows no wooing such as is recognized among more advanced races. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in the postscript to his essay on the Origin of Music, published less than three years ago, writes: " Out of all the testimonies " (and these testimonies include statements concerning the North American Indians) "there is not one which tells of a love-song spontaneously commenced by a man to charm a woman." During the last dozen years I have spent much time in the patient study of Indian music in a number of tribes belonging to diff- erent linguistic stocks, and have transcribed hundreds of their songs. These cover a wide range of ceremonial and personal experiences, and include courting or love songs. My present illustrations will be drawn from the Omaha tribe, for the reason that a number of Omaha songs have recently been pub- lished by the Peabody Museum of Harvard University, and are avail- able for reference. A study of the songs of the various Indian tribes of this country gives glimpses of the unfolding of the emotional nature of the race, and reveals evidences of growth in the power of expression. In these songs we come near to the beginnings of the kindred arts of music and poetry, and note how apparently the early metrical expression of emotion was in music rather than in verse, and that it was the rhythm of the song that moulded the words into metrical numbers. In all primitive music rhythm is strongly developed. The pulsa- tions of the drum and the sharp crash of the rattles are thrown against 153 154 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. each other and against the voice, so that it would seem that the pleas- sure derived by the performers lay not so much in the tonality of the song- as in the measured sounds arrayed in contesting rhythms, which by their clash sta-rt the nerves and spur the body to action, for the voice, which alone carries the tone, is often subordinated, and treated as an additional instrument. Our Indian songs partake somewhat of this primitive character. In them rhythm is strongly marked, and often we find two or more rhythms contesting with each other through all the intricacies of syncopation. The skill the Indian displays sing- ing in one rhythm and drumming in another is not a mark of highly developed musical sense, but, on the contrary, belongs to its earlier manifestations. Much practice would be required to enable us to imitate his surprising performance, our ears having been trained more especially in tonality and simple rhythms. It seems to be as true of the race as of the child, that in the development of the musical sense delight in rhythm precedes tone perception. There are many Indian songs, however, in which tonality rises into prominence and rhythm is felt in the musical phrase rather than merely in the drum-beat. Such songs evince an advance in power of expression, the growth of higher emotions and sentiments having de- manded a higher type of utterance. The general idea associated with song is that the musical tones act as a vehicle to the words, bearing them above their literal mean- ing, and even the ancient Greeks held that music without words was hardly worth consideration, save as a curiosity, but as we trace our way back to early song we find that the importance of words in the explanation of tones and cadences diminishes as we proceed. Indian songs that are fully supplied with words are the exception. Musical syllables from which the sibilants and gutturals are eliminated, leav- ing only the flowing vowel sounds, are used to float the voice. These musical syllables, once fastened to a song, are preserved as faithfully as though they were text. There are many songs having a few words only, musical syllables filling out the measures. There are other songs in which the few words used have their accents changed, or are taken apart and stretched by the interposition of musical syllables, and the phrase made elliptical to suit the rhythm of the music, which in its turn voices the rhythm of the emotion. Such songs are interesting as affording a study of the beginnings of poetry, of the bending of words to form a metrical setting to the thought. LOVE SONGS AA\ONG THE OMAHA INDIANS. l55 We do not easily understand how vocal music without words can convey any definite meaning-, and it may be suggested that such songs find their interpretation in the acts of the ceremony of which they form a part. An instance to the contrary can be found in the Omaha funeral song, No. 57 in the monograph. This blythe major melody is furnished with musical syllables only. There are no words to explain the startling contrast of the soug with the bloody ceremony of which it forms a part. To understand what this song conveys to the Omaha Indian, one must be familiar with his belief concerning the future life of the soul. The absence of words, therefore, does not prevent the Indian's apprehension of a certain definiteness of ex- pression in musical tones. It is impossible to understand any act of an Indian without con- sidering the all-pervasive power of his tribal organization, an organization that took no account of the individual, permitted no personal responsibility or personal freedom, and which bound his mind in the meshes of religious, ritual and gentile obligation. Mar- riage was therefore an affair of the gentes and not the free union of a man and woman as we understand the relation. The laws of the gens held them apart, and their children never became the inheritors of both parents. The ceremony of marriage was often a formal affair, affording little chance for the play of love's young dream; but side by side with these restrictive ceremonies grew up the custom of secret courtship and elopement. So they say: "An old man buys his wife; a young man steals his." The Indian mode of life was such that the morning and evening visit to the spring, to dip up water tor the family use, gave the only opportunity for lovers to meet. It is true that the daughter seldom or never went alone to the spring, but it holds as good in the Indian country as elsewhere, that all the world loves a lover, and the chap- eroning elder woman often devised friendly little absences, that the youth who had made his presence known by his song might gain a few words with his sweetheart. The scene was simple: the birds and flowers, the morning glow and stirring breeze were the only witnesses, and they would not betray the lovers. These honorable secret court- ships were never talked of or sung about. The veil of silence was never withdrawn from these morning moments at the spring, not even if the marriage proved disastrous and the tie was broken. But there are songs that deal with what are lightly called love- affairs, intrigues which were more or less contrary to established so- 156 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. cial order. The Omahas called these songs IVa-oo-wa-an, or woman songs, not that they originated with women, or were ever sung by them, but because they described experiences in which women had played a part, A song of this class was frequently composed by the very man who in it recounted his own adventures, but he tells the story as though it was the woman who spoke. Although the young men and old beaux who alTected these songs never sang them in the presence of women, they were dreaded by the sex as a sort of derisive scourge. These songs were seldom ribald, and sometimes the viola- tion of the social code implied in the narrative would have passed un- observed in any other society than tribal. There are humorous bits in some of these songs, as in one which, freely translated, gives the picture of the gay youth sitting upon a hill overlooking the village that is buzzing over his escapades. As the murmurs are wafted up to him, he complacently throws all responsi- bility upon the gods who made him as he was — irresistible! The IVa-oo-wa-an, woman songs, were more fully supplied with words than the songs of any other class, and are interesting as a study of the beginnings of ballad-making. They are in no sense love-songs; they have nothing to do with courtship and are reserved for the exclusive audience of men. The true love-song, called by the Omahas Bethae wa-an, an old designation and not a descriptive name, is sung generally in the early morning, when the lover is keeping his tryst and watching for the maiden to emerge from the tent and go to the spring. They belong to the secret courtship and are sometimes called Me-tbe-g'thun wa-an — courting songs, Me-the-g'thun signifies the act of courting or woo- ing a woman to wed. They were sung without drum, bell or rattle, to accent the rhythm, which in these songs is subordinated to tonality and is felt only in the musical phrases. The singer used much liberty in rendering the music, the time was not strict, and the voice lingered and died away in the long notes. Vibrations for the purpose of giv- ing greater expression were not only effected by the tremolo of the voice, but they were enhanced by waving the hand, or a spray of artemesia before the lips, while the body often swayed gently to the rhythm of the song. This mode of rendering love-songs was in strong contrast to the usual habit of singing in exact time to sharply accent- ed rhythmic beats. As the tribal organization reduced the personality of a man to the minimum, any evidence of the activity of the vital principle of LOVE SONGS AMONG THE OMAHA INDIANS. l57 individuality becomes exceedingly valuable wherever found, and these love-songs present such evidence. In them we discern the freer use of tonality, for tonality permitted a greater play of personal feeling than could be obtained through strong rhythms, however complicated; their flowing cadences voiced a longing that had made the youth con- scious of his individuality, of his distinctness from the mass of men in his gens. This dawning consciousness of his individuality in the long- ing for something not his own — an ideal, if you will — vindicated the stirring of the principle of personal freedom to choose and to act. Although there is a marked subjectivity in the music, there is also a concentration of feeling and purpose, and at the same time a reaching-out toward nature, a taking into his confidence of the woods, the birds and the sunlight, in the joy of his own experience. The few words in these songs convey the one poetic sentiment: " With the day I come to you;" or, " Behold me, as the day dawns." Few unprejudiced listeners will fail to recognize in these 'Bethae- wa-an, or love-songs, the emotion and the sentiment that prompts a man to woo the woman of his choice. PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. BY JOHN COMFORT FILLMORE. I WISH to give at this time a resume of such studies as I have been able to make in the primitive music accessible at the World's Fair, and a comparison of the results of it with those of my previous studies. Perhaps I cannot do better than begin with an ac- count of my studies of the songs of the Vancouver Indians, carried on in company with Dr. Franz Boas, who has them in charge. To his kindness, friendly sympathy, scientific knowledge and long experience among these Indians I owe whatever I have been able to learn about their music; and I trust he will further sympathize with me in the conviction that our combined eiTorts have not been without valuable results. I begin with this Vancouver Indian music because it is clearly of a much more primitive type, much more near the beginnings of music-making than any Indian music which I have heretofore had opportunity of studying at first hand, and consequently is peculiarly interesting from a scientific point of view. I was extremely curious to see whether certain conclusions which had shaped themselves in my mind as the result of previous studies in folk-music would hold good here also, or whether they might have to be modified by the results of study in music of a decidedly more primitive type. It will be best, I think, to give a somewhat detailed account of this study before say- ing anything about the inferences to be drawn from it. My first experience of the music of the Vancouver Indians was on the evening of July 7th. On that evening Dr. Boas kindly in- vited a number of us to witness some dances of these Indians, accom- panied, of course, by singing. Among them was a cannibal dance, which is certainly very old. From this performance I carried away some very distinct impressions; but I made no notes, partly because I could not, in any case, write as fast as the Indians could sing, partly because I wished to get the general impression before studying details, and partly because the performance came at the end of a most ex- hausting day of extreme heat and constant tension, which hardly left me strength for anything but general impressions. My really serious study of this music began a month later, on the 8th of August, when 158 PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. 159 Dr. Boas kindly procured me the opportunity to take down at first hand some of the Vancouver songs. The singers were Mr. George Hunt, the interpreter, and one of the Indians who had taken part in the dances I had already witnessed. At my request, the songs given were very old ones. The Indians were very patient, singing the songs repeatedly and giving us (Dr. Boas was present most of the time) ample opportunity for correction and for making sure that the record was as accurate as it could be made. 1 say " as accurate as could be made " because the aberrations from pitch were so numerous and often so small in degree as to make it impossible to render them perfectly in our musical notation. In this respect, my experience was parallel to that I had already had among the Omahas; although their music represents a much more -advanced stage of music-making than that of the Vancouver Indians. The songs taken down that day were only three in number and were as follows: -0- ^ ^ 11 1 - —r 3i m z a z^ 1 1 1 1- So las kas r-r-ri^-— s ^E jb^'^=^ g^^£^ggE^^ -4- -tr lE^^^^^^^ =ff^==^=^-^=^=i^=^^^=i=i^^ g^ i ! ^* ^ ! I I I m ! ! i^- ^ — \ — -, — 4 + D? + =^^=1 I — ;— j- g ii'-— -i:,LZi ^g =^=^=^ Na a nae ya ai ya + D? + ii^^^irrj-s- mw i i 160 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. The notation here given represents approximately, at least, the rhythm of the songs; but the singing was accompanied by rapid pat- ting with the hand, the pats being considerably more numerous than the rhythmical units of the songs. Dr. Boas and myself made sev- eral attempts to count the pats in each melodic phrase. 1 found my- self unable, in some phrases at least, to count them twice alike. Dr. Boas, who has had long experience with these Indians, felt convinced that there were ten pulses in the song against sixteen beats with the hand. I found myself in doubt, however, and decided to postpone the investigation of this problem until 1 had solved another, which seemed to me of more pressing importance. This problem was: Do these melodies, notwithstanding their aberrations from harmonic pitch, really run along harmonic lines or not? On looking over my notes the next morning, it seemed clear enough that if the Indians really meant to give the first song as I had noted it, the harmonization of it according to the chords implied in the melody was a very simple matter. The first phrase implied two chords: C major and G major; the second phrase embodied the chord of G major pure and simple; so did the fourth phrase; the third and fifth phrases implied the chords of G and D major. Accordingly, I harmonized it thus: ---1^.-.— gr azzK^p=p=i^ ■» — • — • — • — •- I I I I I -t:=t==-t=:t=t -15'- I ^- r. ^ 1 c « 1 1 j ] ] — -H — j^ r ^ — ^ — *s 1* — * — * — * — tr~.^ — jrrjC^Xrr "sr ^ ^ ^ ipzzszip: :^z=^=t=t=r=t=t=t=t=t=t=t=^ 1 had already arranged with Dr. Boas to try the elTect of the piano version of the songs upon the Indians. Accordingly, we took advantage of the kindness of Mr. G. H. Wilson, who offered us a private room in Music Hall, where we could conduct our experiments PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. l6l without fear of interruption. Here we took the interpreter, Mr. Hunt, and another Indian, and I played this song, with and without the chords here given. Dr. Boas at once dechired that he should never have suspected it to be the same song the Indians had sung; the In- dians themselves also failed to recognize it. They had had no hint as to what song I was to play. I then asked the Indians to sing the song " So las kas," etc., saying that I would play it with them. I played the harmony as they sang, and their faces brightened up immediately. They had recognized the song in its unfamiliar tone quality, and ap- peared to enjoy the new experience. After repeating this once or twice, I asked the Indians to listen while 1 played it, and tell me whether 1 played it exactly as they sang it, or not. They assured me that I did, "as nearly as it could be done," and the most persistent questioning failed to elicit anything but approval from them. But a surprise was in store for us. It occurred to one of us to ask them to sing it alone, after I had played for them repeatedly and they had approved my harmonized version. They did so, and this time they varied from the version 1 had noted down by replacing the first G in the third and also in the fourth phrase with an unmistakable F sharp! They did not seem to be aware that they had given a differ- ent version from their former one, but persisted in the change, repeat- ing it several times. I then played it with them, substituting the F sharp for G in the melody where they did, but retaining the chord of G, as before, the F sharp being not a harmonic tone, but an accented by-tone. This version they also approved, apparently without being aware of any change, and again assuring us that I played it exactly as they sang it, " as nearly as it could be done." Clearly, it was the harmonic relation of the tones which had the most significance for them; the incidental by-tone was only an embellishment for them, just as it is for us. All this was in consonance with my former ex- periences, and 1 had made some hundreds of similar experiments. A song sung by a white man differs greatly in tone quality from the same song sung by another white man or by a white woman, and still more from the same song played on a piano, a violin, a flute, a clarionet, or an oboe. The Indian quality of voice differs greatly from either. Besides this, the Indian rarely sings as true to pitch as do white singers, and is accustomed to having his songs obscured by a vociferous drum-beat and by other noises. I have often found it difficult to recognize an Indian song, which I knew by heart, when I heard Indians sing it in their native habitat and with the usual accom- 162 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. paniments. This was not because the song was not the same. What makes a song a song is its tonality, i. e., the relation of its successive tones to its key-note. This is the essence of music; all variations of tone-quality, wavering intonation, etc., being merely accidents or inci- dents. But these incidental peculiarities of Indian singing are so prom- inent and striking that it is no wonder that they fail to recognize their songs at first when played on a piano. But as soon as they do see that the essential features of the song remain unchanged, they are in- variably delighted with them, especially when they are played with their natural harmonies. It was noteworthy that, whenever they sang with the piano, ac- companied by the harmony, they invariably sang true to pitch; while in their unaccompanied singing the pitch was more or less wavering and uncertain. All this, taken together with my former experience with Indians, seemed to me clearly to indicate that a latent sense of harmony was the determining factor in the shaping of their melodies; that their aberrations from harmonic pitch were due not to intention, but to a lack of training and the absence of any standard of harmonic intervals. As soon as the natural harmony was given with as near an approximation to correctness as our tempered tuning would allow, they instantly accepted it as valid, conformed their own singing to it, and seemed to take pleasure in it. A single doubt remained in the mind of Dr. Boas. The Indians, when singing alone, invariably struck the G of the second phrase be- low pitch. Why should they do this? If G was really intended, why should they not hit it, at least sometimes? If the failure to sing it true to pitch was due to lack of ear-training, why should they not sometimes sing above it in feeling about for it, instead of invariably striking a quarter tone or thereabouts below? In order to test whether they were really trying to sing F sharp as a harmonic tone, I played it, giving that phrase the chord of B minor; but this did not suit the Indians at all, they would have none of it; whereas, when I played the G major chord, they were always satisfied. I could not help thinking that they really meant to sing G; but I could no more account for their striking it so persistently below pitch than could Dr. Boas. So we separated with a promise to consider the matter further. Dr. Boas was fortunate enough to solve the problem perfectly before he had left the Exposition grounds. As he walked back with the two Indians, Hunt, the interpreter, who had listened to our dis- cussion, sang this phrase to himself, evidently trying to find out what PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. 163 it was that he sang, making, perhaps, his first attempt at analyzing his own singing. Soon he informed Dr. Boas that what he did in that doubtful spot was to strike below the G and slide up to it, just as he had done in the third and fourth phrases, the only difference being that the by-tone in those two phrases was longer and more emphatic. In fact, the by-tone in the place wiiich had puzzled us was so extremely short that neither it nor the G, to which it was meant to lead, was made distinct, the result being a compromise tone varying from a quarter of a tone to something like a comma below harmonic pitch. This was a most unexpected discovery, but an extremely satisfactory one. It settled the point clearly enough that the melodic structure of that phrase was built on the lines of a major chord. And it was especially suggestive to me, as I had never before thought of this simple explan- ation as one of the many ways of accounting for the numerous ab- errations from harmonic pitch which characterize most Indian singing. So far as this particular song is concerned, I think we are all agreed that it runs on harmonic lines. It does not, indeed, show any well developed sense of harmony or of tonality. The chord which predominates in it is the chord of G major, and it implies the two chords related to G as under-fifth and over-fifth (C major and D major), /. e., the subdominant and dominant chords. But it neither begins nor ends on the tonic; it begins with the subdominant and ends with the dominant chord. But it seems all the more remarkable that, when the sense of harmony and of tonality is so plainly elementary, the form of the melody should be determined, unconsciously to the Indians themselves, by harmonic considerations. After giving so detailed an account of our work over this first song, I need not dwell on the other two. It is enough to say that the results obtained were similar and went to confirm the views suggested by our study of the first one. No. 2 is plainly in the key of D major, and every phrase of it implies harmony as clearly as does any civilized music. It is built on the tonic, dominant and subdominant chords; its tonality is much more strongly marked than that of No. 1 ; and it ends with the plagal cadence which I have so often found in the Omaha music and elsewhere. No. 3 is just as clearly in the key of E minor. It certainly implies the tonic and dominant chords, and the cadence is best made with tiie subdominant before the tonic, i. e., a plagal cadence. Although this chord is not necessarily implied in the melody, it makes the close more natural, and is most satisfactory alike 164 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. to civilized and uncivilized ears. All this is directly in the line of my previous investigations in the Omaha music, and tends to confirm the conclusions toward which those investigations seemed clearly to point. No. iJ. No. 3. gs —I H i b4^ -iS- -25*- -<5i- -• — 0- -<5^ -- £: \ \ *^ - g^f=f : -t^- -!•—)•- -tS- -ff-^- -4- -&-■ -tZ- _C2 ^- -&- :^ -IC- -f2- -KZ- ^ -Ki;- -S^ -(2_ JSZ- ^: -J^- f2 ^~- 42- -122- -t^- -122- -K2- -&- The most important of these conclusions is the one already sug- gested, X7^. ; that the forms assumed by primitive songs are deter- PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS, 165 mined, unconsciously to those who make them, by a latent sense of harmony. That, consequently, the question of the scale on which any given song is built is a wholly subordinate matter and really re- solves itself into the question of what is the natural harmony implied or embodied in the song. Let us, for a moment, consider what scales we can find in these three songs, divesting ourselves for the time being of all ideas as to the harmonic relations of the tones. We shall find that the tirst song contains the following tones, which I have arranged in consecutive order, from the highest to the lowest: -i9- :^=J^ 'Z>- 1 No. 2 contains the following tones: i --^^ The tones in No. 3 are as follows: 1 -^ ^ i II ^^^ 1 -KT Of these. No. 2 is simply the five-toned major scale which is the common property of all primitive races, so far as I have been able to discover. It is the major diatonic scale with the fourth and seventh omitted. No. 3 is the scale of E minor with the fourth, sixth and seventh omitted. No. 1 is the scale of G major with only the sixth omitted. Assuming that all these pitches were given correctly by the Ind- ians, our problem would be to account for these various omissions. But if we were to take into account, as we must, the numerous and capricious aberrations from scale pitch, our problem would become hopelessly complicated. In No. 3, for example, the tones which I have marked with a cross were seldom sung twice alike. Sometimes they were sung on the pitch 1 have noted, sometimes a full half-tone above that pitch, and at various intervals between these two extremes. Those I have marked with a zero were sung below pitch; while two tones were sometimes sung nearly a minor third above the pitch here given. Are we to attach melodic significance to these aberrations 166 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. from scale pitch? If so, how shall we account for their incessant variableness? And how shall we account for the further fact that, when the true pitch was given on the piano, especially with the accom- paniment of the natural chords, the Indians invariably sang them true to pitch, expressed satisfaction and declared them correct? The truth is that if we think of these songs from the standpomt of scale exclusively, we involve ourselves in a maze from which it is apparently impossible to extricate ourselves; whereas, if we think of them as derived from chords, the sense of which is a native endow- ment of the human mind, but which are imperfectly apprehended by the primitive man from lack of experience and education, the whole structure becomes at once perfectly clear and intelligible. The hypo- thesis of a latent sense of harmony guiding primitive music-making and determining the form of primitive melodies, is a clue the value and certainty of which appear to me more and more clear the further I go in the study of primitive music. Is it, then, an unscientific proceeding to accept this theory, at least as a working hypothesis? If this explains every one of the facts thus far brought to light (and these facts are by no means narrow in range), and no other comprehensible explanation is offered, are we not justified in accepting it as extremely probable, if not absolutely certain? Do we ever reach absolute certainty by the process of induction, or indeed anywhere except in pure mathematics? Besides this, we are to take into account the fact that the human voice, the first musical instrument employed by man, is subject ^o the physical laws of acoustics; that every tone a man sings is com- plex and involves the major chord, and that primitive man necessarily hears this chord in every tone sung, although he does not know what it is. Is it so surprising, then, that his singing should run along the lines of the major chord or of its nearest correlative, the minor chord? Whatever may be the explanation of the fact, it is certainly true that in all primitive music I have yet heard harmonic tones predominate, and by-tones are as easily accepted as temporary substitutes for har- monic tones and as leaders to them by the savage as by the civilized ear. But it is rather curious that as a rule by-tones are chosen which belong to the chords most nearly related to the tonic. Then these tones are used as harmonic, and the chords to which they belong nat- urally fill out the five-toned to an eight-toned scale. I continued my studies with the Vancouver Indians for several days, beginning Aug. 25th, during which time I collected the follow- ing songs: PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. 167 Xo. 4. ri# i sticks. -4- -a- ^-al-al- H 1- -^r-*-ar H 1- -^-^-g 4=-f :«=* Ll^ it^= -^^ ^ ff^^ -g*^ 3=iC ^-A -*_•- J -•— #- -«s- -1^ -&- -^ J ■•— •- S-^^rlT I I ff ff f- ^^. S tt^ ^ .*-*- :f^ ■T ::fl=i: _#__*_ -iQ- - length of time with the most perfect ease and freedom. But the complicated rhythms of which I have spoken are not con- fined to tribes as far advanced as are the Omahas. The cannibal song of the Vancouver Indians has also a two against a three; but it differs from the same rhythm among the Omahas in that it has a double rhythm in the song against a triple drum-beat; and further, the triple rhythm of the drum has two beats and a rest. The single drum was accompanied by striking sticks on planks, done by all the singers. Here, then, is a phenomenon not easy to account for. This Vancouver music plainly belongs to a lower grade of development melodically PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. 173 than does that of the Omahas, but the rhythm is even more dit^lcult. For it is much easier to comprehend how the Omahas reached their double drum-beat with its simple rebound when they were singing a song with a triple rhythm, than how the Vancouver Indians came to beat a triple rhythm on a plank, and even interspersed beats with rests, when they were singing a song with a pronounced double rhythm. 1 have already referred to the exceedingly dii^icult rhythm of the Van- couver song (No. 1) referred to in the tlrst part of this paper. I have two or three times succeeded in beating this accurately with Mr. Hunt, and made out two beats against each unit of the song. At other times 1 became confused, as did Dr. Boas, and neither he nor I can as yet account for the dit^iculty. The following song (No. 8) was borrowed by the Vancouver Indians from the Bala Balas, a tribe about half way between Van- couver and Alaska. The tlrst part of it is mainly beaten in plain syn- copations, with an interruption beginning with the eleventh full meas- ure. The second part, however, has a drum-beat of five counts to the measure, the second and fifth being rests, against a plain 2-4 in the song. This I found a most perplexing and dittlcult rhythm to transcribe, and Mr. Hunt told me that the Indians themselves had a great deal of trouble with it : BALA BALA INDIAN SONG. Xlo qua-la-kas o, ho-he. -sr LiA^ r-4- jL L -^ m. $.4 't^-'-^ ^ \ V ^ 12^ 5=4= W- 1 P 1 (» 1 ^ 1 f 1 P 1 P 1 P 1 P ^^TW P 1 1 P P 1 ^ ^EE^E^ i 1 r 174 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ■25^- -2^ i^ ^T^T^"*^ ^ '' ^ •^ f "*^ f ^ f "^ f ""T'ni^"^-^ V 1/ I ^ 1 ^ f» 1 ^' 1/1/ f ^ J f s^ ^— #^ «H-# ■li—^—ii- V l/X 1/ l/l/l/^/C/|/yi/yC'y ^ 1 ^ ^ 1 t' ;/ 1/ atzit . S d S i/l/ U'l/^' 1/1/1/ ^ V y ^ 1 ^ ^ 1 y y u 1/ 1/ u ? 1 ^ ^ 1 1/ 1/ The Vancouver songs show the same mixing of rhythms as the Omaha songs. The natural phrasing of No. 5 would group the units (quarter-notes) into measures of four, three and two. No. 6 I have noted as 6-8 and 9-8; i. e., the measures have some two and some three dotted quarters. No. 5 has fives and fours. The rhythms of the South Sea Islanders and at the Javanese theater are comparatively simple. The most complicated rhythms it has been my fortune to hear are those of the orchestra at the Dahomey village. This orches- tra contained seven drums of ditferent sizes, five bells and a pair of rattles. I have heard there one bell beating in triple time, another beating four equal tones against the three of the first one, the rattles four, the big drums six, but divided into two *hrees, not three twos, while the other drums and bells syncopated aga:nst them, it seemed evident, also, that many of these compi'icaticns were improvised. I watched them for hours, and often 5xed my attention for awhile on a single player. The man with the rattles, for example, would be beat- ing a straight two against the three of the big drum and would keep PRIMITIVE SCALES AND RHYTHMS. 175 on rather listlessly for some time; then he would liven up of a sudden and indulge in some complicated syncopations, when he would settle back into a steady two again. On such occasions he would look around at me as 1 perched on the rail, note-book in hand, and wink and grin, or perhaps gutfaw. Others played similar pranks. All this would seem to indicate that rhythm is the tirst aesthetic element to be developed in the evolution of music. It is natural that it should be so. The rhythm of the dance, of the war-drum, even the rhythmic swaying of the mother's body as she croons to her child, naturally precede the development of any fine perception of ditierences in pitch, of tone-quality, or of tonality. Hence it is not surprising that rhythm should not only be sooner evolved than any other musi- cal element, but also that it should be developed to a high pitch of complexity, and be much more sharply and clearly detlned than pitch or quality of tone. It seems to be the one esthetic element which gives most pleasure to the untaught aborigine; the remaining ones are developed much more slowly, and are much less clearly defined, mainly owing, I think, to the absence of any well defined standards of pitch or tone-quality. In the melodies, as distinguished from the complicated rhythms of the drum-beats, the striking characteristic is the motivt\ation, the rhythmic type of the phrases which constitute the models out of which each song is constructed. For almost all, if not all, Indian songs are as strictly developed out of modified repe- titions of a motive as are the movements of a Mozart or a Beethoven symphony. Having invented his original motive, which is commonly striking in its rhythmic form and highly characteristic, the Indian com- poser proceeds to build his song out of modified repetitions of this motive with an instinctive regard for the aesthetic requirements of unity, variety, symmetry, contrast and climax, especially the first three, which have often excited my admiration and have made the study of Indian songs a most delightful and fascinating occupation. Plainly enough, these requirements are founded in the nature of things; and what philosophers have formulated after many centuries of intel- lectual culture the aboriginal composer discovers intuitively for him- self, and, without formulating any rules in words, follows them as obediently as if he had been educated in the most advanced of our great music schools. Thus the study of primitive music opens to us a most attractive vista into a realm of mental activity as yet comparatively unexplored, and one which promises to be fruitful in results, especially in its bearing on the evolution of the aesthetic sense. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. BY STEPHEN D. PEET. THE person who first made known the mysteries of the so-called "medicine lodge" was the celebrated painter George Catlin. He visited the Mandans in 1832, and was permitted to witness the religious ceremony called okeepa. He painted the scene in four pictures. They were the first pictorial representations ever made of the esoteric work of an Indian medicine lodge. They were his glory, but proved his misfortune. His description was discredited, and doubts were cast upon all his work as a painter. These interfered with the sale of his gallery in France, and even in the United States. Prince Maximilian of Weid, a year after Catlin's visits, spent a winter among the Mandans and obtained a view of the ceremonies, which confirmed his account of them. The object of this ceremony, accord- ing to Catlin, was threefold: First, the celebration of the event of the "settling of the waters;" second, the observance of the dance which would insure to them the coming of buffaloes, which would supply them with food; third, the conducting of the young men of the tribe through an ordeal of torture, by which they were initiated into the position of warriors. This latter part of the scene was revolting, for it was attended with great suffering, but it showed the endurance of the young men. The following is Catlin's description of the med- icine lodge: "Around the walls were hung the shields and bows of the chiefs, and a mystery thing, resembling a tortoise or frog, placed on a platform in the center On the floor were four sacks, in the form of large tortoises, which contained water from the four quarters of the world. Besides these there were some drums and buffalo heads. As the ceremony proceeded, there were gath- ered on the outside of the lodge other symbolic objects. First, the curb or cyHnder called the big canoe. Around this were eight men covered with the entire skins of buffalos, horns, hoofs and tails remaining on, their bodies in a horizontal position, while they were looking out of the eyes as through a mask, all of them imitating the actions of the buffalo in a singular pantomime. Each had in his right hand a rattle, a slender staff in his left hand, a lock of buffalo hair around his ankles, a bunch of willow-boughs on his back. Their bodies were painted white, red and black, according to the points of the compass. Eight men, in pairs, surrounded the canoe, to represent the four cardinal points. Between these, alternating with them, were four young men, to represent the 176 SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 177 four quarters of the sky, two of them painted black with white spots, symbol- izing the firmament, or night, and the stars; two painted red with white streaks, to represent the day and the ghosts which the morning rays were chasing away. Near the 'big canoe' were two men with skins of grizzly bears thrown over them, who seemed to symbolize the divinities^ which were to be appeased, as food was ofl'ered to them; also two other men, 'whose bodies were painted black and heads white, who represented bald eagles. They were continually grasping the food that was offered to the bears, but were chased away by a hundred boys with bodies painted yellow and heads white, called antelopes. On the fourth day a strange character appeared among them, his body painted black, with white rings over him, bearing in his hand a long staff with a red ball at the end of it. He personified the evil spirit, the mischief-maker. He was held in check by the medicine man, and was defeated through the virtue of the medicine pipe. The initiation of the warriors, etc., began after this. An inch or more of flesh on each shoulder and breast was taken up between the thumb and finger, and a skewer was forced through, cords were fastened to the skewer, and the body was drawn up by the cords and suspended in the air, the weight of the body drawing upon the muscles. Occasionally the skull of a buffalo was placed upon the arms and legs, increasing the weight. The bodies were then turned faster and faster, until the agony could not be borne longer and the candidate ceased his struggling and hung apparently a lifeless corpse. He was then let down, and the body was dragged, with the buffalo skulls and other weights attached to the flesh, in a circle around the big canoe, until the weights were disengaged by tearing out the flesh. This was called ' the last race.' Each young man was dragged till he fainted, and was left nearly dead, until, by the aid of the great spirit, he was able to rise and stagger through the crowd to his wigwam." This view of the initiation of warriors, given by the celebrated painter some sixty years ago, reveals to us something of that extensive system of sacred mysteries which ii now known to have prevailed among nearly all the aborigines. The view was supplemented at the time by Schoolcraft's descriptions of the Mida songs, and has from time to time received additions from various writers, so that now it is pretty well known that an esoteric system prevailed which may be compared to the sacred mysteries of the East, and which constituted the secret societies of the aborigines. Among persons who in recent times have awakened popular atten- tion to the subject, and written upon it are the following: Mr. Frank Gushing, who was initiated into the secret societies of the Zunis and in 1883 conducted a party of them through Eastern cities, and finally went down into the waters of the great sea at Nahant and was there baptized and received into the secret organization. After him Dr. Washington Matthews gave to the public a beautiful descrip- tion of the sacred ceremonies of the Navajos, and of the dry paintings which constituted a part of the ceremonies, and a translation of the 178 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. wonderful mountain chant, with all its imagery and poetry, which seemed like the echoes of the mountains. Captain R. G. Bourke has also published an account of the snake dance among the Moquis and an explanation of its dilTerent parts. Mrs. M. C. Stevenson has pub- lished two legends of the weird and curious snake drama celebrated by the snake order at Zuni. She has shown that the snake society is a cult organization, of three divisions or orders. She has also described a tlute ceremonial which is a dramatization of the migration of the flute people. Miss Alice Fletcher has lived among the Dacotahs and has been permitted to see the most sacred rites and ceremonies of this people. Her descriptions, with those of Rev. J. O. Dorsey, show that there are many secret societies among this people. Dr. Franz Boas has described the customs of the Alaskans and many of the northern tribes, and has shown that there are many societies among them, some of which require that a person should be born into them to be a member. Later than this, Mr. Walter Fewkes has visited the Zunis and witnessed various ceremonies. The investigation of the sacred mysteries and secret societies of the native tribes is still going on. A large amount of literature has already accumulated; still more is awaiting publication. Enough has been published already for us to dra w a comparison between them and to show what general principles were embodied in them. This we propose to do. 1. Our first question will be: Was there a general organization which spread from tribe to tribe, or did the different societies arise among the tribes separately and distinct.? In answering this, we shall go back to the time of the early explorers and examine their testi- mony. When Ferdinand De Soto traversed the regions of the Gulf States there was enmity between the Florida tribes and the tribes of Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi, for two or three stocks or families of Indians dwelt there. When Marquette and the French missionaries traversed the regions of the Great Lakes and passed through the portages to the Mississippi River, they found enmity between the various tribes, for the great Algonquin race had crowded down between the Iroquois and the Dacotahs, leaving three stocks or races for these voyagers to traverse. When Coronado passed from the great mountain lake of the Aztecs, in Mexico, and marched with his cavalcade through the arid wastes of Arizona and New Mexico, until he reached the plateaus where were the " seven cities of Cibola," the sedentary tribes and the SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 179 wild tribes were at war. The Moquis and Zunis were obliged to pro- tect themselves from their lurking foe, the Apaches, who had come down upon them from the north. It was not likely that at that time any one organization or select order extended through the entire con- tinent, for the tribes were too widely scattered, and those who were in proximity were too hostile for this. But as time went on and other changes took place, and the old hostilities in a measure ceased, the intruding tribes from the north became adjusted to the new surround- ings, and as the ancient tribes became reconciled to their presence, there was a rapid interchange of customs. The ditTerent tribes borrowed from one another religious ceremonies and symbols, and especially dancing steps and rites at feasts. It seems probable, then, that the societies and sacred mysteries originated among the separate tribes and that they existed in certain separate centers, and that they embodied in themselves separate and distinct religions, and exhibit customs and myths which were peculiar to the distinct tribes. In fact, the secret societies contain within themselves those signs or tokens by which we may trace out the history, origin and character of the separate tribes. This becomes plain as we enter more minutely into the study of the symbols and the colors and customs of the different societies. Still there is a certain class of symbols which are recognized every- where and which must have been transmitted from tribe to tribe, or borrowed from a common source. The resemblance of certain sym- bols to those which are found in all oriental countries makes the latter supposition plausible. 1. There is a class of symbols which could be easily transmitted and which would be very expressive and easily understood, namely, the symbol of the cross, suastika, the serpent, the bird, the circle, cres- cent, scroll, the hand, the arch, the face, which symbolize respectively the weather, the fire, lightning, thunder, sun, moon, whirlwind, sky, and Manitou. 2. There were certain other symbols, which prevailed in certain art centers or areas, having come from the suggestiveness of nature, but the origin of which is uncertain. Among these we class the turret or stepped figure, which was a Pueblo symbol; the tortoise, or turtle, which was common among the Eastern Indians; the human tree figure, which was known among the Mound-builders and the Mayas; the man eagle, which was also a Mound-builder symbol. These sym- bols are very common throughout the continent, but are not univer- sally distributed. They were local in their use, if not in their origin. 180 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. 3. A third class of symbols might be mentioned, which were purely aboriginal and entirely local in their use. Under this class the conventional figures found in the pictographs or rock inscriptions might be placed. Also those animal figures which were convention- alized by the different tribes, and which had the tribal stamp upon them, illustrations of which are found among the Haidah totems, which are carved, tattooed and woven, and are always recognized as Haidah work. 4. With these symbols the dances may be mentioned. Mr. L. H. Morgan says that dancing was a form of worship among the Am- erican aborigines. " Every tribe has from ten to thirty set dances, each with its own name, songs, steps and costume. Particular dances are the special property of a gens or society." Still, he says: " The dances of the Dacotahs, Crees, Ojibwas and Pueblos are the same in general character, steps, plan and music. There is one system throughout the Indian tribes, which bears a direct relation to their system of faith and worship." * There is no doubt that even since the advent of the white man there has been a great mingling of the tribes and interchange of dances, and there is some evidence that there was formerly an interchange between the tribes of the continent and distant races, for in comparing the dances of the Haidahs with those of the South Sea Islanders, at the Exposition grounds, we recognize more resemblance between them than between either of these and the dances of the Pottowotamies and the Eastern Indians. This review of the symbols and customs of the different tribes will convince us that the secret societies were not the branches of one order, but were different in their origin, and embodied different sys- tems, those of the hunter tribes of the north having embodied the ani- mal worship which prevails among them; those of the agricultural tribes of the south having embodied the sun worship common there; those of the village Indians of the west the sabeanism or sky worship, the symbols being mainly those of the elements. The sacred mys- teries among the civilized tribes of the southwest embodied the elab- orate system of personified nature powers, under the semblance of anthropomorphic divinities. This is confirmed by the study of the symbols and myths of each tribe, and by comparing them with one another, for by this means we may ascertain what elements were bor- rowed and what were original with the tribes. The imagery in which *See /Indent Society, p. 116. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. I8l the myths are clothed will also be very suggestive to us. The records will prove the most valuable. II. The study of the sacred mysteries of the separate tribes will next engage our attention. 1 . Let us begin with the mysteries which are supposed to have prevailed among the tribes of the Gulf States. These were the first to be brought to light, but they are at present the least known. The in- formation which we have is drawn from such travelers as Bartram and Adair, who were hardly aware that there were secret societies. Their descriptions of the customs, when examined in connection with the various symbolic relics which have been preserved from prehistoric times, convince us there were many sacred mysteries and that an elaborate symbolism prevailed. We learn from them that there were dances, and feasts of which the busk was the chief; that everything was full of symbolism, even the rotunda, council-house, public square, manner of lighting the fire, of receiving and entertaining strangers, the form or manner in which the people were seated, the manner of distributing the black drink in the conch-shells, the manner of smoking the sacred pipe, otfering the smoke first to the sun, afterward to the four cardinal points, lastly to the white visitors. The council-house was divided into two apart- ments. The back apartment was reached by openings, or holes, scarcely large enough for a man to crawl in upon his hands and knees. This secluded place appears to have been designed as a sanctuary, dedi- cated to religion or priestcraft. The calumet, or pipe of peace, and the imperial standard were kept here. The walls of this building ni front were decorated with various paintings and sculptures, supposed to be hieroglyphic, and the pillars supporting the front, were formed in the likeness of vast speckled serpents climbing upwards. The busk, or feast of first fruits, was their principal festival. At this feast all the old worn-out clothes, remaining grain and refuse were consumed by fire. The fire was then extinguished and lighted anew from the central fire.* The rotunda corresponds to the kiva or estufa of the Zunis. It was much more private than the council house; women and youths were never admitted to it. The vigils and vespers and mystical fire in this rotunda were extremely singular, in the center was a great pillar and a spiral circle of fagots, turning from right to left, extending to the distance of ten or twelve feet from the center. The exterior * See Bartram's Travels, pp. 233, 267, 449, 507. 182 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. extremity of the spiral circle takes fire, which slowly creeps around, following the course of the sun, feeding on the fagots till the circle is consumed. The council lasts as long as the fire lasts. We see from this that symbolism prevailed among the southern tribes, namely, the symbolism of nature worship. The yearly festivals and the com- memoration of the first fruits were noticed by Bartram. The sacred fire was kept ever burning, as it was in the temple of Vesta, and was a symbol of the national life. There were keepers of the faith among the various tribes, and occasionally vestal virgins resembling those of Rome. The thought that arose with Adair, the Indian agent, was that there was a great resemblance between these feasts and ceremonies and religious customs and those of the Jews. From this arose the theory that the Indians were the " lost tribes," and whole books were written to show the analogies. These analogies consisted ( 1) in the division into tribes, the names of the clans being drawn from animals, as were those of the tribes of Israel, the totems here being the wild animals, the eagle, wolf, bear, while among the Israelites they were the lion, serpent, hind. (2) The existence of clan elders and the resemblance between the position of these elders and the heads of the houses among the Israelites. (3) It was maintained that the American Indians, especially the Cherokees and Choctaws, had representations of cher- ubim in their places of worship. (4) The existence of prophets was dwelt upon, and the name prophet was given to some of the orators and leaders, a name which was perpetuated and attached to the great Shawnee prophet in the time of Tecumseh, and to the prophet who was the companion of Black Hawk. ( 5) It was maintained that the southern Indians carried about an ark, or sacred vessel, which resem- bled the ark of the Jews. This analogy between the customs of the Indians and the Israel- ites has been treated in recent times by scientific men. It was made the subject of an address before the American Association by one of the vice-presidents. Col. Garret Mallory. He maintained that the Jews, after the days of Moses, up to the times of David and the Kings, were in the state of zoolatry or animal worship, similar to that of the southern Indians. They persisted in the worship of animal gods, the golden calf, brazen serpent, the fish god and the fly god. The second commandment was directed against the worship of the demons of earth, air and water. The God of Sinai was a god of storm and lightning. The ancient local god of the Canaanites began, in the exodus, to alTect the religious concepts of the Israelites. Along SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 183 with the beast worship the totemism, the special cult of tribes, clans and individuals, was tutelar. They identified Jahveh as the tutelar god of the entire nation. Besides this, the association of a divinity with localities, such as caves, mountains, rocks, trees, the places where remarkable occurrences had been noted, and where dreams and visions had been given, were designated by pillars, exactly as the place of the fasting of individuals was among the Indians, marked by a pile of stones. The pillar of Bethel is compared to the Dacotah stone heaps or piles of buffalo skulls. This is without any foundation whatever, for the Jews in the time of Moses were far in advance of any known American race in all their religious notions and symbols. Recent dis- coveries show that the art of writing was known long before the ex- odus, even at the time that Abraham was in Chaldea, four hundred years before. The Egyptologists and Assyriologists show that religi- ous symbolism had gone beyond anything known to the North Ameri- can Indians. There was no such thing as matriarchy among them, but there was in fact a remarkable system of patriarchy, which was radically distinct from matriarchy. While they were in the tribal state, they had tribal leaders who were the heads of houses and commanders of the army. The division of the territory was according to tribes, but there was property in severalty. There was landed estate very similar to that of the Greeks under Kleisthenes, If the comparison had been drawn between the secret societies of the Indians and some of the sacred mysteries of the Egyptians and Greeks, such as the Eleu- sinian mysteries, which embodied a type of nature worship, it would have been far more suggestive, for these myths and symbols concern- ing creation, resurrection, light and darkness and other processes of nature became also the symbols of the progress of the soul-course of life, new birth, spiritual existence and future state. None of these symbols were used by the Jews at the time of the exodus, though they seem to have become a common inheritance among pagan nations. There is more resemblance between these and the myths and symbols which prevailed among some of the native tribes of America, such as the Zunis and Moquis, and the wonder is, how came these analogies to appear among peoples who were so remote from one another in time and place. This is the special inquiry. Externally, the societies were very different, yet many things were held in common among them.* This we can explain on the * There was a tribal, or a tribal mii^ratini; symbol which diiTered witli 184 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. ground that nature worship was everywhere similar. The same relig- ious conceptions might arise under the same circumstances, the concep- tion of resurrection after death, new birth, the soul separate from the body, restoration of the soul to the body, all appearing in the Zunis, Moquis and other tribes exactly as they existed among the Egyptians. We find no such conceptions among the tribes of the Gulf States, for sun-worship pure and simple prevailed among them. Whatever other" symbols they had were the symbols of nature: frogs, symbolizing the water; the serpent, the lightning; the bird, the thunder; the circle, the sun; the square figure, the four quarters of the sky. 2. The sacred mysteries among the Cherokees are as remarkable as those of the tribes of the Gulf States. One advantage in studying these is that there were records kept among them, which have been recently brought to light. The ancient symbols of the tribe were pre- served in this way, and sometimes the traditions and myths. Mr. Mooney says that in all tribes that retain anything of their ancient or- ganization we find this sacred knowledge committed to the keeping of the various secret societies, each of which has its peculiar ritual, with regular initiation and degree of advancement. Another advantage in studying the symbols of the Cherokees is that they were accustomed to build mounds and sites for town houses as memorials of certain ceremonies. In building the mound, a fire was first kindled on the surface; around the fire was placed a circle of stones, on the outside of which were placed the bodies of prominent men, one from each gens. With the bodies was buried a translucent stone, the horn of a horned serpent, a feather from a mythic hawk, the different tribes. With the Pawnees and other tribes it was a sacred bundle. With the Choctaws and Chickasaws, the leaning pole was the symbol, but with other tribes, which were wtdely separated,, the shell was the guiding star. It was not always the same shell. The Florida Indians used the conch-shell, one sacred to the sea. The Chippewas of Lake Superior used the cowrie-shell, the Dacotah tribes the clam-shell, about nine inches long. Tht^ Cherokees used the terrapin shell. The tradition was that the shell with its iridescent light had led the different tribes throughout their entire history. It became obscured and its light was darkened, but again shone forth, like a star, above the waves, and led the people in their wanderings, as the ark led the Isra- elites through the wilderness. There may have been other things which were common to the southern tribes and the northern hunter tribes, such as the number four, the thunder bird, the cardinal points, the fire generator, but this one of the shell is as conspicuous as any, for there is no especial significance in the shell. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 185 a feather from the golden eagle, and beads of seven colors. A hollow cedar log, to serve as a chimney or air-hole, was placed above the fire, the mound built up around it. Upon this the town-house was built. The mouth of the fire-pit was in the middle of the floor of the town- house. The fire was in charge of a firemaker and was never allowed to go out, but was always kept smoldering. A new fire at the annual feast was kindled from this fire-pit. All the fire in the ditlerent houses was obtained from the firemaker at the town-house. The roof of the town-house was covered with earth and ran up to a point from the circumference, the eaves coming down almost to the ground outside of the wall. The drummer at the dance or feast walked around this roof in spiral fashion, just as the Aztec priest ascended the great pyr- amid. Here, then, we have the lodge, or kiva, in which the sacred mysteries were observed, with the symbols of nature worship, described by tradition, and at the same time preserved in an earthwork. 3. The sacred mysteries of the Delawares were as remarkable as those of the Cherokees. There were also records among them. These were kept on sticks Ax inches in length, tied up in bundles. The custom was not peculiar to the Delawares. The early travelers found them among the southern tribes, and they were familiar to the Iroquois. The Chippewas also used them. They were covered with devices and symbols, which, according to Schoolcraft, were called kepnewin, for those in common use, and heknozcin, for those con- nected with the mysteries and the Mida worship. The most re- markable record was that contained in the Waliim-Olum or red-score. The discovery of this was made by Rafinesque, the antiquarian, but published by Dr. D. G. Brinton.* It contains the creation myth and the story of the migration in pictorial language. Of this creation myth Dr. Brinton says: "The general outline is similar to European oriental myths. It was not derived from them, nor acquired by mis- sionary influence, but the similarity is due wholly to the identity of psychological action, the same ideas rising from similar impressions in New as in Old World ideas." The secret societies of the Delawares have not been described, so that we have to take it for granted that this record was not only a transcription of the creation myth, but embodied in itself the sub- stance of the ceremonies and symbols which were employed in the * Mr. E. G. Squier read before the New York Historical Society a transla- tion published in the North /itnencan Reviru- in lcS49. 186 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. mysteries. The turtle or tortoise is always a symbol of the earth among the Algonquin tribes. The rabbit or the hare is the symbol of the sun or dawn. The story is that in the beginning there was naught but water and sky, but at length a woman, the common mother, des- cended from the sky. She alighted on the back of a turtle, which be- came an island and afterward grew to the main land. This story is found among the Mohawks and Pottowottamies as well as among the Iroquois and Delawares.* Many tribes had vague myths of a journey from beyond the sea. The Shawnees possessed a vague migration myth, that in the remote past they arrived at the main land after crossing the wide water. The legend was repeated annually and a sacrifice offered in memory of the safe arrival. They had a mythical and historical chant which resembled that of the Chippewas. Gallatin says that there were four clans among the Shawnees, named Chilli- cothe, Piqua, Kiskapocoke and Mequachake. To the last clan was given the office of preserving the sacred records and of conducting the religious ceremonies.f 4. The most complete record of any secret society is the one which is given in the Mida songs of the Chippewas. These Mida songs have been described by Schoolcraft, but have been recently studied anew by Dr. W. J. Hoffman. Schoolcraft described at considerable length the Mida songs which prevailed among the Ojibwas, and has given the pictographs contain- ing the songs. J * See Fourth Annual Report of Canadian Institute; "Ti^hcoizh" by Mrs. Eastman; Records of a Tourist, by Charles Lanman. f Gallatin'' s Synopsis, p. 110. X In these pictographs is the medicine lodge, filled with the presence of the great spirit, who has come down to be present at the ceremonies. A candidate for admission, crowned with feathers, holding an otter-skin pouch, with the wind gushing out of one end. Then a mark for a pause during which the feast is prepared, a man holding a dish in his hand representing the master of the feast. A lodge in which the Mida men are assembled. The arm of the priest or master of ceremonies. The goods oflfered as a fee of admission. The Mida tree. No. 8, with the root that supplies the medicine. The medicine bag, in the shape of a stuffed crane, which is used in the dance. An arrow in the circle of the sky. The celestial hemisphere, with a symbol of the great spirit, or Mani- tou, over it. The Wabeno tree, a stick to beat the drum. An Indian walking on the sky. The great spirit filling all space with his beams. A drum, tambourine, raven, crow, medicine lodge, master of the society. The celestial hemisphere. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. l87 The result of personal investigations among the Ojibwas, con- ducted during the years 1887, 1888 and 1889, shows that School- craft's statements were in the main correct, though the metaphorical coloring was used by him in a manner which now seems absurd, and metaphysical expressions are attached to the symbols which could have never been used by the savages. He says that there are three classes of mystery men, the Wabeno, the Jessakkid and the Mide. The Wabeno are men of the dawn, or eastern men. They give their feasts at night, and sing and dance and are boisterous, and by the use of plants are able to take up red-hot stones and burning brands, and bathe their hands in boiling water, and so are called fire-handlers, or dealers in fire. The Jessakkid is a seer and prophet, or juggler, and called a revealer of hidden truths. The exorcism of demons is the chief pretension. Communion is held with a turtle, and through him with the manitous and the thunder-bird. His incantations are private, in a lodge which sways violently from side to side and is filled with loud thumping noises and numerous voices and laughter, denoting the arrival of the manitou. The Medawin is the grand medicine society. Its origin is buried in obscurity. Mr. Warren says that in the Medawe rite is incorporated most that is ancient among them, and by it are perpetuated the purest and most ancient idioms of their language. It is based upon traditions pertaining to the cosmogony and genesis, and is looked upon by the Indians as containing their religion. This so- ciety is graded into four separate and distinct degrees, though one de- gree is practically only a repetition of the others. The following is the myth on which it was founded: " Minabozho, the servant of Dzhe Manido, beheld human beings, the an- cestors of the Ojibwa. They occupied the four quarters of the earth. He saw how helpless they were and desired to give them the means of warding off the diseases with which they were constantly afflicted, and to provide them with animals and plants to serve as food, and with other comforts. Minabozho re- mained thoughtfully hovering over the center of the earth, endeavoring to de- vise some means of communicating with them, when he heard something laugh and perceived a dark object appear on the surface of the water, which, after appearing in the west, and reappearing in the north, east and south, he observed slowly approaching the center of the earth, when he descended and saw that it was the otter, now one of the sacred manitous of the Midewiwin. Then Mina- bozho instructed the otter in the mysteries of the Midewiwin, and gave him at the same time the sacred rattle to be used at the side of the sick; the sacred Mida drum to be used during the ceremonial of initiation and at sacred feasts, and tobacco, to be employed in invocations and in making peace. The place where Minabozho descended was an island in the middle of a large body of wa- ter, and the Mide who is feared above all others is called Minisinoshkwe (He- 188 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. who-lives-on-the-island). Then Minabozho built a Midewigan (sacred Mida lodge) and, taking his drum, he beat upon it and sang a Mida song, telling the otter that Dzhe Manido had decided to help the people, that they might always have life and an abundance of food and other things necessary for their com- fort. Minabozho then took the otter into the Midewigan and conferred upon him the secrets of the Midewiwin, and with his Mida bag shot the sacred migis into his body, that he might have immortality and be able to confer these secrets to his kinsmen. The mtgis is considered the sacred symbol of the Mide- wigan, and may consist of any small white shell, though the one believed to be similar to the one mentioned in the above tradition resembles the cowrie." The following is the explanation of the chart: " The large circle at the right side of the chart denotes the earth as beheld by Minabozho, while the otter appeared at the square projections at Nos. l, 2, 3, and 4. The semi-circular appendages between these are the four quarters of the earth, which are inhabited by the Anishinabeg, Nos. 5, 6, 7 and 8. Nos. 9 and to represent two of the numerous serpent manitous, who endeavor to prevent entrance into the sacred structure and mysteries of the Midewiwin_ The oblong squares Nos. 11 and 12 represent the outline of the first degree of the society, the inner corresponding lines being the course traversed during initiation. The entrance to the lodge is directed toward the east, the western exit indicating the course toward the next higher degree. The four human forms at Nos. 13, 14, l5 and 16 are the four officiating Mida priests. Each is represented as having a rattle. Nos. 17, IS and 19 indicate the cedar trees, one of each of this species being planted near the outer angles of a Mida lodge. No. 20 represents the ground. The outline of the bear at No. 21 represents the Makwa Manido, or bear spirit, one of the sacred Mida manidos, to which the candidate must pray and make offerings of tobacco, that he may compel the malevolent spirits to draw away from the entrance to the Midewigan, which is shown in No. 28. Nos. 23 and 24 represent the sacred drum which the candi- date must use when chanting the prayers. Nos. 30, 31, 32, 33 and 34 are five serpent spirits, evil manidos, who oppose a Mide's progress, though after the feasting and prayers, directed to the Makwa Manido, have by him been deemed sufficient, the four smaller serpent spirits move to either side, and the larger serpent raises its body in the middle, so as to form an arch, beneath which the candidate passes on his way to the second degree. Nos. 35, 36, 46 and 47 are four malignant spirits which guard the entrance to the second degree. Seven Mida priests are represented by Nos. 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44 and 45, while the figure 48 shows that supernatural powers are given to the candidate. The lines extending upward from the eyes signify that he can look into futurity; from the ears, that he can hear what is transpiring at a great distance; from the hands, that he can touch, for good or for evil, friends and enemies at a distance, while the lines extending from the feet show that he can traverse all distance and ac- complish his desires. The figure No. 53 denotes that the candidate personates the bear seated before his sacred drum. The serpent, No. 54, now arches its body, and beneath it he crawls and advances toward the door, No. 55, the third degree. No. 56, where he encounters four panther spirits, Nos. 57, 58, 59 and 60, who are special guardians of the third-degree lodge. No. 77 signifies his ability SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 189 to grasp from the invisible world, and to accomplish extraordinary deeds. No. 78 personates the bear spirit. He chants prayers, to enter the fourth degree. The chief opponents are the panther spirits, Nos. 80, 82, S3 and 84. Other bad spirits are about the structure: bears, 88; panthers, 91; lynx, 97; human beings. No. 95. In the fourth degree the candidate. No. 98, is endowed with the power of reading thoughts, to call forth the soul. He is covered with the sacred shells. He can practice jugglery. Extending from the fourth degree is an angular pathway. No. 99, showing that his path is beset with dangers. He may possibly deviate from the course of propriety, symbolized by the projecting lines. No. 100. The ovoid figure No. lOl signifies the end of the path, the end of the world, and the end of his existence. Above the fourth degree is the ghost lodge, within which are the spirits of the departed. No. 113 represents the owl passing from the Midewigan to the place of the dead, on the pathway of the dead. No 114. We see in this chart the symbols which preserved the tradi- tions of creation of the world, the course of human life and the safe passage through the intercession of the good spirits in answer to prayers; the serpent lifting itself up and making an arch; the endowment of supernatural gifts; the final end of the world; the departure into the ghost lodge, or the lodge of the spirits. A most remarkable system of natural religion, with many high thoughts— and yet all under the control of the Jessakkids, and subordinate to their jugglery. The conceptions remind us of the sacred mysteries which were prevalent in the east, butj the animal symbols and imagery are purely ab- original." 5. The secret societies of the Iroquois are not so well known. The Iroquois were made] up of five dit^erent tribes, which were in- creased to six and seven, the Tuscaroras and the Missesagas having been adopted into the confederacy. This was an arbitrary brother- hood, for the Hurons, -which belonged to the same stock, were ex- cluded. The Eries and Neuters were absorbed and lost their individ- uality. The evidence is, then, that the national organization of the Iroquois was not based upon the ties of kindred, but was based upon an arbitrary and artificial brotherhood which grew out of their sys- tem of totemism. The phratries of the different tribes bore the same names, and had the same emblems, and could claim protection and kinship, but could not intermarry. The members of the same tribe could intermarry, but they must belong to different clans and have different totems. They constituted an artificial brotherhood, which had signs and countersigns resembling those of modern secret so- cieties. Mr. Horatio Hale ascribes this to the associative instinct. He says: "The guilds of the middle ages, the Masonic and other secret brotherhoods; religious and political parties, are all manifestations of the associative instinct, but here the Iroquois founders took advantage of the clan system and made an artificial brotherhood, the tie of which was as strong as that which binds a Free- 190 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. mason of Berlin to a Freemason of New Orleans. This brotherhood came from the original totem system and cannot be ascribed to anj' known founder, though there was a human founder for the Iroquois confederacy. The confederacy un- doubtedly grew out of the preceding system. The chief work of Hiawatha, the law-giver, was mainly to extend the totem system through the five tribes and to maTce a council-house or a long house, which should combine the council- houses of the clans and tribes into one. The brotherhood then was more of a political organization than religious, though there was an air of religion about it." Mr. Hale, in a private letter, says that it seems very probable that there were secret societies among the Iroquois, as there were among the other stocks, but they have not been studied. It was a custom among all the wild tribes to make one clan very prominent, and in some cases to consign to the same clan or another the care of all relig- ious affairs. Such was the case with the Shawnees, when they were in Ohio. The Onondagas were chosen by the Iroquois as the tribe to which the long house was committed, they being the most central of all the tribes. The sacred records of the Iroquois have been pre- served and have been published under the name of the "Book of Rites." This is not the record of any secret society, but is more like the records which a chief or a monarch would make at the time of his inauguration. It is the record of the ceremonies which took place at the death of a member of the chief council house and the inaugura- tion of a new member. It is called " The Book of the Condoling Council," as it is full of mourning over the death of a chief. It has also been called " The Iroquois Veda." We shall not find in this book any account of sacred mysteries, as we do in the case of the Ojibwa Mida songs, nor do we find in it as elaborate symbolism as we do in Catlin's pictures of the Mandan ceremony. Its style is quiet and sub- dued and reminds us of the character of that remarkable man, who has been regarded as the culture hero of the Iroquois, Hiawatha. 6. The secret societies of the Dacotahs were more numerous and more marked than those of the Iroquois. Some of these were mere social societies, others were designed for sacred mysteries. We find among the Dacotahs the care of the sacred pipes, sacred songs and tribal records was committed to one particular clan. It was looked upon as sacrilege for others to sing these songs. The keepers of the sacred tents belonged to the " hanga" gens. There were also sacred or mysterious men among the Omahas. These were reverenced by all men. They were governors of the tribe and were counted as gods. There were, however, several dancing societies, called Hecucka. One of these was composed of such as had distinguished themselves in war. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 191 and boys whose fathers were chiefs. The name of the principal so- ciety was Wacicka. It existed under ditferent names in many tribes, the Omahas, Chippewas, and the Dacotahs. They held a dance in the, spring of the year. A sacred bag was given to the candidate. None but members could take part in the dance. Four days were spent in the secrets of initiation. The otter-skin bag was the chief symbol. The Icugci dance was conducted by the society of those who have the translucent stones. Small white stones were the symbols. The bulfalo dance, wolf dance, the grizzly bear dance, the black bear dance are conducted by the societies of those who have supernatural communication with buffaloes, wolves, grizzly bears, black bears. In these some or all of the dancers wear the skins of these various ani- mals. The ghost dance is conducted by those who have supernatural communication with ghosts. The " hakuna " dance, which was a sort of courting society, was held in a large earth lodge, in the center of which was a fire. These dancing societies were all open societies and were not to be classed with sacred mysteries or secret societies. Among the Dacotahs the religious affairs were closely associated with civil, were not differentiated. The sacred tent holds the sacred clam shell, the tobacco bag made of the bladder of an elk, the tribal war pipe made of red pipe-stone, the sacred bag made of the skin and feathers of a bird, the war eagle. The conclusion which we reach is, then, that most of the secret societies and sacred mysteries were a part of the tribal organization and were really the religious houses of the people. The symbolism which was founded upon nature worship was guarded by these socie- ties, and even the history of the tribe, especially that history which, like the history of the Bible, goes back to the creation, was preserved by the sacred men of the tribe. There was a priesthood which dealt with the secrets of nature and the mysteries of the gods. This priest- hood at times went into the practice of magic and used the black arts. Still, there was a majesty and august bearing among some of them which impressed the people with the sacredness of the supernatural. Ill, The comparison of the sacred mysteries found among the tribes of the great plateau with those among the eastern tribes will prove interesting. There was here an entirely different system of re- ligion, and the religious ceremonies were accordingly very different. These were conducted in underground chambers called "kivas," the most ancient of which were in the shape of a cone, though in later times they became square rooms, resembling the other rooms of the 192 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Pueblos. There was one peculiarity about these kivas, which reminds us of the custom of the Cherokees. In the middle of the room there was a fire-place, which was hollowed out from the floor and was very sacred, for it was the place where the spirits of the ancestors dwelt, and out of which they came. These were the "divinities of the hearth." The kiva is spoken of as the home of the organization. It may belong either to a society, a group of gentes, or an individual. No woman could enter the kivas. There was a symbolism about this room. The cavity beneath the floor indicates the place of the b'^gin- ning, the house under the earth, the abode of the creator, the place from which the people emerged. The lower floor represents the sec- ond stage or the second world, for there are four worlds in the genesis myth. The elevated section of the floor denotes the third stage, where animals were created. Animal fetiches were set in groups upon this platform. There was an opening through the kiva hatchway. The people climbed up a ladder through this to the open air. This sym- bolized the manner of their emerging from the earth in the creation myth. The fourth world was the open air. A myth which has been preserved by Mrs. Stevenson is as fol- lows: When the people first came to this world, they passed through four worlds, all in the interior, the passage-way f'-om darkness to light being through a large reed. They were led by two war gods, twin brothers, sons of the sun. They reached this world in the early morning, and, seeing the morning star, they re- joiced and said to the war gods: "We see your father," referring to the sun. " No, this is the warrior who comes before our father," was the reply. After- ward they saw the sun, and were full of fear. The first of the Zunis to arrive were the bear gens, the corn gens, and the sand-hill crane gens. They were pre- ceded by two local divinities, the son and daughter of a priest-doctor, called Kawimosa, who dwelt upon the mountains and were transformed, the one into a hideous-looking creature, and the other into a being with snow-white hair — possibly personifications of the snow and rain, or a white cloud and black cloud. One of these, as he descended the mountain, drew his foot through the sands. Immediately a river flowed and a lake appeared, and in the depths of the lake a group of houses. Across this river the Zunis were obliged to pass in their long journey, before they reached their resting-place. As they crossed, some of the children fell and were drowned, but their spirits went to the beau- tiful village beneath the lake. There was a belief among the people that there was a passage-way into the depths of the lake, where were the waters of ever- lasting happiness. In the passage-way were four chambers, where the priests of the divinities rest in their journeys to the sacred waters. This is associated with a mountain and a cave, not many miles from Zuni, which are supposed to be the very places which mark the passage-way from the earth to the spirit SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED AWSTERIES. 193 land. In this cave, plumed sticks were gathered, and an ancient shrine at the mouth of it. There is also a lake about forty-live miles away from Zuni. The spirit lake is the home of the divinities, called the "Sootike" or the " Kokko." The mythical plumed serpent Kolo-oo-witsi has its home in the hot spring, not far from the old village of the Zunis. This plumed serpent tlgures very con- spicuously in the initiatory rites. He is under the control of a great divinity called " Kaklo," the father of the lesser divinities called " Kokko " or " Sootike," who furnishes the food and water and all necessary things, through the body of the serpent. He has certain servants whom he calls " Salamobiya " and whom he sends to the north, east, west and south, to the heavens and to the earth, to procure the cereals. When these return, he says to the serpent: "You will carry them with water to the Zunis, and tell them what to do with the seeds, but 1 will go in advance and prepare them for your coming." The servants or messengers then take the plumed serpent Ko-lo-oo-witsi and carry him to the kivas, and he is the chief object in the ceremony, which occurs once in four years. This is the myth on which is based the ceremony and which ex- plains the different parts of the ceremony. It is a personitication myth, for every name in it can be appHed to some nature power and can be shown to be a personal name for a familiar object — the sun and moon, stars, rain, snow, clouds, lightning, springs, caves, rivers. The most suggestive is the name of the plumed serpent, which signi- fied the rain-cloud floating over the mountains, occasionally descend- ing into the valleys, bringing water and grain to the villages. The ceremony itself was only a sacred drama which represented the differ- ent operations of nature. In the initiation of the children, which takes place in the sacred kivas once in four years, images, masks and plumes are used to symbolize the various divinities, the image of a great ser- pent being the chief object. The symbols are as follows: There are six religious houses, one for each of the cardinal points, one for the zenith and one for the nadir. The superstition is that no male child can after death enter the spirit lake, or have access to the sacred houses of the an- cient village hidden in its depths, unless he receives the sacred breath of the spiritual divinities, or "Sootike." There are accordingly persons appointed who are endowed with the breath, and these represent the dit^'erent parts of the sky, and appear in the ceremony. They wear masks — those for the north, yellow; those for the west, blue; those for the south, red; those for the east, white; those for the heavens, all colors; those for the earth, black. These come to the village after sundown. They carry a serpent made of hide, about twelve feet long and eighteen inches through, the abdomen painted white, the back black, covered with white stars. The tail is held by the priest, who constantly blows through a large shell which he carries in his right hand. They pass through the town, visit each kiva, and put the head of the serpent through the hatchway, where it may be seen by those in the kivas. They finally retire to a particular kiva, the walls of which are decorated with the figures of two serpents, and there leave the image. The members of secret orders are assembled and V 194 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. continue to dance with the Sootike in the different kivas until the first white streaks warn them that day is approaching. At this time the head of the ser- pent is seen projecting through an opening in the wall of the kiva, but the im- age is seen by the uncertain light of the faintest impression of day. Behind the serpent the old priest stands and blows through the body, the peculiar noise representing the roaring of a sea monster. At sunrise the messengers, Salam- obija, bring to the priest plumes and ears of corn, colored yellow for the north, blue for the west, red for the south, white for the east, black for ihe earth, and all colors for the heavens. A sumptuous meal is now served in the kivas, after which the messengers plant their plumes at the respective cardinal points, and drink the medicine water prepared by the priest of the great tire order, take the bunches of Spanish bayonets in their hands and prepare for the ceremony. The priest of the sun enters the sacred plaza and draws the sacred square, with the sacred meal, along the south and the west sides, on which the messengers are to stand — a yellow line on the east, a blue line for the west, a red line for the south. Along these lines the godfathers pass, each one holding his godchild on his back. As he passes the line where the Sootike stand, each one strikes the child with a large bunch of Spanish bayonets, with such force, at times, as to draw tears to the eyes of the little ones. The godfather then receives a plume, which is made of the soft, downy feathers of the eagle, attaches It to the scalp- lock of the child, and gives it a drink of the holy water, which is dipped from a bowl by the medicine man with a shell. This ceremony is in the open air. The night ceremony is in the kiva. Here the godparents sit upon a stone ledge, which represents the third stage in the creation, each with a boy at his side on the ledge. The father of the sun sits upon a throne at the west end of the room, with two young priests at the right and left; the high priest and priest- ess of the earth on either side of the throne. The war god sits at the left of the fire altar and feeds the sacred flames. Inside of the kiva are mounds of sand, on which are wands of feathers, which the messengers from all the points of the compass take and carry to the child, blowing the sacred breath over the plumes into the mouth of the child. The messengers of the north, east, south, west, all in turn, go to each child, and as each messenger completes the round, he places his wand in his belt, turns a somerset over the fire, strikes his head on the fire-slab and leaves the kiva feet foremost. After this the feathered serpent appears, borne by the Sootike and the priest. The high priest of the bow, the sky, the priestess of the earth, ascend to the hatchway, holding a large earthen bowl, to catch the water poured from the mouth of the Ko-lo-oo-witsi serpent. Each godfather carries the holy water to the boys to drink, and makes a gift of the bowl to the boy, who sprinkles the corn stacked in his house with it. After the water is exhausted, the priests catch the seeds which are sent from the abdomen of the Ko-lo-oo-witsi, or serpent, in their blankets and distribute the seeds to all present. The boys now return to their homes, but in the morning are taken to the house, and, after a sumptuous breakfast, are taken a distance from the village and plant the prayer plumes and deposit the plumes from the child's head with a prayer, the child repeating the prayers after the godfather. This ends the remarkable initiation of a child in the sacred order of the Sootike. It is in every part symbolic, but symbolic of the nature powers rather than the animal divinities. SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 195 It will be noticed in this ceremony that the serpent is really a benefactor rather than an enemy, showing that he was a personifica- tion of the rain-cloud; he is borne by the Sootike, who are mes- sengers of the wind; he also appears at the earliest dawn, and again late in the evening or at night, at the hatchways of the kiva. The personification of the sun sits upon the throne, but the priest of the sky and the priestess of the earth symbolize male and female, "mother earth " and " father sky," exactly as they did among the Egyptians. The gifts of the water and the corn come through the body of the serpent as through the rain-cloud. The arch of the sky is symbolized by the roof of the kiva. The ledge or rock, on which the people live, is symbolized by the ledge on which the godfathers sit, with their rela- tives at their side. The fire is in the center of the kiva, the plumes planted on the floor of the kiva; the wind gods or messengers turn somersets over the fire, both as they come in from the sky through the hatchway and as they go up. The water descends from the sky and is distributed in bowls to those on the ledge, and the bowl is left as an emblem of water for the household. The whole ceremony is unique. There is no trace of any historic tradition in it. It is purely aboriginal. Not even the trace of a cosmogony or deluge, such as we find among the eastern tribes. The conception of the future is also unique. Heaven is a pueblo beneath the water and not in the sky. The passage to it is through the mountain and not through the clouds. The kiva is the most sacred part of it. The soul of the child can enter this kiva by means of the intercession of the priests and by making prayers to the divinities. Water was the greatest blessing, even more of a blessing than the sky. Thus the contrasts are owing to the sur- roundings. The Scandinavians located their heavens near the region of fire. The Christian locates his heaven in the sky and in the sun- light. The Zuni located his in the water. IV. The significance of the ceremonies and symbols will next engage our attention. These were for the most part dramatizations and had relation to the " course of life" and perhaps to the ' 'journey of the soul.'' This will be seen more fully as we come to study the remarkable myths and symbols of the Navajos. The secret societies of the Navajos are not so well known as are those of the Zunis and Moquis; still there are various customs and myths which convince us that they were very powerful. The Nava- jos seem to have been very secret in their ways. They rarely put symbols on the rocks, and the sand painting which was common 196 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. amon^ them was much of it practiced in secret. Even that which was done in public had an esoteric meaning" which was equivalent to secrecy. Still the various myths and ceremonies which have been made known convince us that there was a secret order by which these ceremonies were conducted and the myths preserved. The prayer of the Navajo shaman given by Dr. Washington Matthews illustrates this. This prayer might be called the journey of a soul after a body. It is a prayer which must be repeated at one time without cessation, and with great care to observe every part in its order. It contains a series of word pictures, pictures of the unseen world under the mate- rial figures. In it the suppliant calls upon the divinities of the four mountains to come to him. There is a place of emergence referring to the story of the emerging of the people from under the earth. This place is guarded by Smooth Wind, but one of the war gods, Nagay- nezni, with a black wand, a slayer of the alien gods, and Tobajischeni, the second of the war gods, a kinsman to the waters, with a blue wand, open the way for him. The passage is now through the chambers or houses of the clouds — the black cloud, the blue cloud, the yellow and the white clouds. The gods with the black wand and the blue wand lead the way. His passage is next through the chambers of the houses of the mists — the black mist, the blue mist, the white mist and the yellow mist. He arrives at the red river's crossing, an imaginary locality in one of the lower worlds. He then approaches the cham- bers of the mountains. First is the chamber of the black mountain, where the door is guarded by the red bear. Next the chamber of the blue mountain, which is guarded by the red serpent. The third is the yellow mountain, where the red coyote guards the door. The fourth is the chamber of the white moun- tain, where the red hawk guards the door. He comes to the entry of the red- floored lodge, which is the house of the woman, the chief of the witches. He enters and reaches the edge of the lodge, then the fire-place of the lodge, then the middle of the lodge, and finally the back of the lodge. Here he finds the spiritual body, which is held in the power of the woman chieftain. The feet, limbs, body, mind, dust, saliva, hair, are all recognized. The war god places the stone knife and the talking feather in his hand, turns around as the sun moves, and says: "Woman chieftain, my grandson is restored to me. Seek not to find him; say not a word. We start back with my grandson; he is re- stored to me." They then go back to the middle of the lodge, to the edge of the lodge, through the entry of the lodge, the war gods, one with his black wand before, the other with his blue wand behind him; back through the cham- bers of the mountains, past the red hawk, the red coyote, the red serpent and the red bear. They cross the red rivers; they climb up through the white mist, yellow mist, blue mist and black mist; through the white cloud, the yellow cloud, the blue cloud and bhck cloud; through the place of emergence, along the coyote race-course, past the two hanging gourds, by the brown pinnacle and the breeze under a tree, until he sees his lodge and the trails that lead to it. and the broad field beautified with corn. Here two other divinities, Haschayon SECRET SOCIETIES AND SACRED MYSTERIES. 197 and Haschayalti, who were peaceful and beneficent gods of the Navajos, appear, one with a white wand and the other with blue, and lead him through the trails and across the fields to the entry of his lodge, made of the daylight. They then pass through the edge of the lodge to the fire-place, to the middle of the lodge and the back of the lodge, where they all sit down on the floor of the lodge, where the feet, limbs, body, mind, dust, saliva, hair, are lying. The shaman ex- claims: "I have returned to my feet, my limbs, body, mind, dust, saliva, hair; and my feet are restored to me, my limbs, my body, my mind, are restored to me. The world before me, behind me, below me, above me, all things around me, are restored in beauty. My voice is restored in beauty. It is restored in beauty, in beauty, in beauty, in beauty." This prayer illustrates the journey of the soul after the spiritual body, or astral body, that it might be restored to the physical body. The same thought is conveyed by the mountain chant. This chant describes the adventures of a Navajo hunter who was taken captive. He wandered among the mountains in his efYort to escape and get back to his home. It describes the wonderful adventures, which can be compared only to the journey of Virgil through Tartarus, or Dante and Beatrice through the infernal regions. The rocks open by magic power, and he passes in and out again. Trees rise heaven high and land him on the top of the mountains. Mountains sink and rise again, chambers appear. The wind storms and tornadoes come with rushing noise, the air is filled with logs and uprooted trees, but the tempest recognizes him and subsides. Serpents show signs of great anger, shake their rattles violently, thrust out their tongues, but they do not bite. After passing dangers of this kind they come to the houses, the homes of the lightning gods, where the birds flash lightning from their claws. They come to the house of the buttertlies, tilled with butter- flies and rainbows; also to the house of the squirrels, which is built of black water, with a door of red sunbeams; the house of the porcu- pine gods, where the door is of wind; a house of rock crystal with a door of all sorts of plants; a house of cherries with a door of light- ning; a house made of dew-drops, on leaf mountain, whose door is made of plants of ditTerent kinds; to the house of white water, whose door is of daylight. Rainbows ran in every direction and made the house shine with bright colors. They finally came to the medicine lodge, where the ceremonies and dances were conducted by gods, in the shape of the powers of nature, radiating white streaks, beautifully deco- rated with necklaces made of turquoise, coral and rare shells, em- broidered dresses and many beautiful things. The poetry contained in this mountain chant is most remarkable, and equals in some re. spects the poetry of Dante himself. The imagery is drawn from the 198 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. mountain scenery, is filled with bright colors and contains pictures of all the wild things of nature, strangely blended with thoughts of the supernatural beings. This wonderful chant is symbolized by the sand paintings which form an important part in one of the secret ceremonies of the Na- vajos. These paintings contain figures of the cross, and the rainbow, with various plants and animals, all of them in colors; but the chief figures are the serpents which form the walls of the chambers and guard the rafts of the clouds, very much as the serpents guard the halls or lodges in the Medawin ceremony. The imagery is different, for the houses or chambers are in the sky, and the divinities are sky divinities. The serpents are symbols of the nature powers. The cross is the weather symbol. The rainbow is the symbol of the arch of the sky. The revolution of the cross is a symbol of the rev- olution of the earth. The bowl in the center is the symbol of the water. It is an imagery adapted to the cult of the sky rather than to the animal cult, but it reveals the same general conception, the per- sonification of the powers of nature. One of these ceremonies has been described by Mr. James Stev- enson. In this ceremony four men were prepared to personate gods and goddesses. The lodge had the rainbow painted over it. The doorway to the lodge was made of buckskins, which represented the daylight, or the twilight which comes just at the dawn of day. A sand painting, which represents the rainbow, was drawn inside of the medicine lodge, but was erased the first day, and the lodge was taken down and laid at the four points of the compass. Ceremonies in which the four plumes, medicine tubes, reeds, beads, crystals herald- ing the sunbeam, corn pollen, bunches of feathers, were brought into the lodge and placed on a rug. Various ceremonies were passed through with great care to observe every point correctly. A chant was sung by the song priests. The personators of the gods adorned themselves with silver belts, and wore masks and waved pine boughs. In another painting there is a cross in the center of the lodge, which symbolizes water and sunbeams. On the arms of the cross are the gods and goddesses painted in colors, the heads ornamented with eagle plumes, a line of sunlight on the head, blue sunlight on the skirts, colored stars upon the bodies. They carry rattles in their hands to symbolize the rain. The staif is colored black and orna- mented with eagle plumes and sunbeams, symbolizing the clouds and sunlight and the powers of nature. OBSERVATIONS AMONG THE CAMEROON TRIBES OF WEST CENTRAL AFRICA. BY C. H. RICHARDSON. THE continent of Africa is prolific with signs of ancient historical relations. The student of ethnology will find a rich field of research, and the scientist will find increasing interest and sur- prising discoveries. The piercing sun and fatal climate of this unfor- tunate country have alone held back the foot of the explorer and arrested the pen of the historian. But dil^kulties vanish before time, and the result of past research into the condition of this country has been so fruitful of interesting information that every succeeding year will be accompanied with new encouragement and will carry an im- petus to future endeavor, which will, we trust, bring to light what is yet a mystery in the history of the Dark Continent. The country of the Cameroons is situated on the west coast of Africa, between parallels of 5° N. and 10= S. latitude. The coast is for the most part low and marshy. There are few rugged coast lines. But a uniform climate prevails and it is unhealthy. But as you enter the interior the country rises at the rate of 75 feet to the 100 miles. All of Western Africa is heavily timbered, and large trees of ebony and mahogany abound. For ten years it was our privilege to reside at Bakundu, 110 miles interior of the Cameroons Mountains. We lived four miles distant from the Cameroons River, at a point 5 ° N. Lat. and 10° W. Long. Here we found it more healthy than it was at the coast or on the banks of the river. After a year of fevers we had here very good health. All Europeans must have this fever. It is the process of acclimatization, a reduction of the system and regu- lation of the blood to African normal conditions. All newcomers must imbibe good supplies of quinine. Quinine is an antiperiodic, a preventive, not a cure of the fever. We had the quinine put upon the breakfast table, so that we would not forget to take a morning dose of the requisite. We found small doses taken always more effective and less injurious than large doses taken only when fever of a malignant type had been contracted. Even when one is acclimatized, he is yet subject to occasional fever, caused by exposure 199 200 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. and fatigue, and commonly called accidental fever. It is no more dangerous, however, than a slight cold in a northern clime, if due at- tention is paid to it and relief administered. All Africans, when young, have an hereditary disease called behatti — coequal in appearance to scarlet fever, but not contagious. They bathe the infant every morning in the waters of the clear, cold brook. The pimples on the body of the infant emit a mucid liquid called by the natives tnadibaya bubi, or evil water, and none of them escape this disease, and it is undoubtedly their climatic change and accounts for their immunity from that fatal type of the African fever which thins the ranks of the adventurous merchant and explorer. 1 believe that if this mucid substance was inoculated into the blood of a European it would render him impervious to fatal fever. Of course, I did not try it on myself, and my wife objected to be the sub- ject of the first application. So I commend it to men of science every- where as a solution of one of the most important of African problems. This might make the use of horses possible in West Central African commerce as a substitute for the slow foot and hand of the native carrier. The question of roads would then be one of necessity, and the jungle-path would give way to a wide highway, by which the rich woods and oils of the interior would reach the markets of the world. There are two seasons in Africa — a wet season and a dry one. Each is ushered in by tornadoes, the cause of which 1 have no need to discuss scientifically to this audience. These tornadoes often blow down the houses and bananas of the people, and they believe that the witch sends them. Once I attempted to give them a scientific explan- ation, but as I found that they were incredulous and doubted my story, 1 desisted, for fear that my reputation for veracity might be impaired for future use. 1 had occasion to tell them the world was round. " 1 do not believe that," said one, " for the houses would all fall olT." So I learned to wait until they were more advanced before venturing upon the scientific. "All the world and every creature" might be a short expression of the sentiment of this World's Ethnological Congress. The students of antiquity may find as much of interest to excavate from the minds of the African negro of the continent of Africa as those find who work in the excavations of Pompeii. Habits and customs of peoples are as true a sign of ancient historical connections as the hieroglyphics un- earthed from the sacred soil of the Pharaohs. Rolling rocks and tot- tering temples mark the spots where ancient cities stood, and there OBSERVATIONS AMONG THE CAMEROON TRIBES. 201 Stand in the chaotic character of the African people marks of by-gone pomp and ancient splendor. Nature is true to the death everywhere, and the African barbarian boasts himself of lofty birth and noble an- cestry. Physiology and psychology will fmd phenomenal and sur- prising departures from the common rule. Men of brains are stand- ing among the forest of population like giant oaks, only bound by the limits of requirements and the limited area of their knowledge. There are men of genius who have the unwritten laws of the peo- ple engraved on their memory, though they have no law report to which to resort. Their minds are a store-house of past precedent in all civil and criminal cases. Some of these lawyers speak five lan- guages and go miles to settle grave causes among adjoining tribes. Wit and humor sparkle like gems and precious stones in the mines of Kimberly. Every branch of professional life is represented, the phys- ician and surgeon as well as the merchant and silversmith. All of these display past civilization in crude form, but none show what the African mind is so well as the native lawyer or spokes- man of the people. They hold courts of three characters — civil, criminal, and custom or ecclesiastical. Their civil courts relate to breaches of contracts in trades for wives or goods. Their criminal courts have jurisdiction of violations of mar- riage rights and theft and unnatural deaths, said to be caused by poi- son or witchcraft, or accidental murder, or careless homicide. Witnesses swear upon an idol image called moso!iiros,2Lnd it is claimed that any one swearing falsely upon the head of the image will be visited with summary punishment from the violated image. Various bunches of sticks may be seen over any front door of a chief of a household. When a trade is made and partial payment accepted, a stick four or five inches long is taken and notches cut into it to represent the quantities of what is prolTered in payment. The stick is then cut or split in two pieces. Each of the two parties to the trade takes a stick. When they again meet for settlement, these sticks must match to complete the notches which were made in the stick of which they are a part. Any tampering with either half of the stick is thus easily discovered. Sticks have diflferent kinds of notches cut into them, some to represent cloth, some tobacco and other articles. Witnesses are supplied by the interrogator with a small strip of banana leaf for each question propounded to him. If he answers a 202 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. question to the satisfaction of the court, he throws the strip backward over his head. This means that the implication contained in the question is far from him. If he does not answer satisfactorily, he lays the strip of leaf down by his side and stands indicted as guilty of the charge implied in the question asked. It is said of him who thus retains the leaf that the leaf is always with him. To relate all of the peculiarities in the court proceedings of these peculiar people would take unwarranted space in this paper. Their courts are convened with the most solemn ceremony, and the silent space of time before the first speaker is introduced is almost sublime. That dignity which is one of the peculiarities of civil ses- sions is never entirely obliterated from a barbarous people when they sit in courts of dispute, though the wig and gown is conspicuously absent and the American style of honorable address is lost. That sacred demeanor of great assizes is visible and marks past civilization so indelibly that no honest observer can doubt for a moment that the African people were once an enlightened people. They have a name for the Divine Being, but do not apprehend his character, nor how he is to be approached. The heathen want no teacher of God. They want a mediator. In Siam they take the white elephant and in Africa they take the moon. An African believes he will prosper if he is let alone. He does not ask for favors to be bestowed, but asks his gods to prevent enemies from hindering favors from falling to his lot. His destiny is prosperity if nothing interposes; hence his charms to keep the witch away. This is the original idea of the horse-shoe over the door. Over every African door is some charm. It was believed that this charm would change the mind of an enemy or witch who passed under it. That is the idea of the horse- shoe now, not to make good luck, but to prevent the witch of bad luck. If an African dreams of a person whom he knows or with whom he is associated, he visits that person the very first thing in the morning, and he says to him: "Why were you over to my house last night? What have I done to you that your spirit leaves your bed to bother me in the night.'' You must cease that kind of work, or I will accuse you of evil design." If he dreams of animals, he goes hunting in the forest next day, as he believes he will see game. The superstitious of this land who dream of numbers, or cows, or horses, consult a dream-book and play lottery. Many of the charges for witch- craft result from dreams and often end in the death of the accused. They have many devices to detect thieves, most of which are OBSERVATIONS AMONG THE CAMEROON TRIBES. 203 superstitious tests, such as swearing on their country customs and sensitive leaves said to crumple at the touch of a thief. Any indica- tion of a system of punishment for stealing may be regarded as a mark of civilization. Surely, the rights of property are held sacred among the enlightened nations. We may not claim for the Africans a moral abhorrence of theft, but that they regard stealing a trespass not to be tolerated is certain. The Bakundu tribes of the western interior fine the offender for the first, and under some circumstances for the second oiTense, but the third is punished by severing a lobe from the right ear. I have seen men, and women, too, with both ears entirely severed. Such a natural thief is called by them tnotu wawibe, or " a man who steals. " He is also regarded as born to theft and is sometimes banished from the tribe. One of their first ideas of a book or piece of paper was a strange one, namely, that no one could steal anything on which a piece of paper was attached; and a few months after our arrival they put bits of paper, on which something was written or printed, upon their banana trees, to prevent the elephants or people from troubling them. Where did they learn the system of awards and punishment that lies at the root of our moral laws? Could it be inherited.? We think not. It was a custom handed down by a better civilization. There are natural thieves and there are naturally honest ones among them. Kimberly has its gems of matter, but Africa also has its gems of mind. There are faithful ones whose law seems to be, " Honesty is the best policy," and they are both humane and moral. They do not recognize the circumstance of accidental death, neither did the Jews. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. In Africa, he who kills another accidentally must die. Then, they say, the friends of each are equal mourners. One of the most difficult duties we had to perform in Africa was to save a man from death who had killed another accidentally. Missionaries do much good among the wild tribes of the African inte- rior by saving many from the fatal flat of custom whose edict is death. In Bakundu language, akalimba means to crucify, and the victim is crucified in the following manner: The culprit is lashed to a tree with his feet two or three feet from the ground, his arms out- stretched and tied to a cross-beam, so that the weight of his body would hang on his wrists. His feet tied loosely at the foot of the tree and his head hanging on his breast. After some time of sutTering and before death they break his arms and legs with clubs. With such a 204 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. similitude of ancient crucifixion, we have no hesitation in fixing this people's identity as descendants of the early enlightened peoples. And they— the Africans — are the only people who resemble the man whom David referred to when he said: " Wine to make glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine." It is the custom of the Africans to oil themselves, and their complexion is one that shines under the process. If you oil a white man's face it will look wet, but not shine. They make wine of the purest kind, and they are very scrupulous in dividing the wine with their fellows, and I have known one to carry a mouthful of wine to his friend like a pigeon serves its young. They regard a man who gets drunk as a witch, and he is not tol- erated. I have seen a man who never drank wine, used tobacco or danced, and when I inquired why this was so, I was told that " he did not have that time in his body — A sopikoppi ocho punda O nyolo. " They say he never desired to do so. David had many wives, and Africans, too, think the more of them you have the better. They are worth having in Africa. I do not mean this as a reflection on present company. But there is a single exception to the inference which I cannot remove. It is this: All there are worth something — from $50 to $250. There are, then, many marriages and few divorces. Here we have the reverse: widows bring the smallest price, and, anyway, always find suitors. You know how it is here better than I do. They begin payment when the girl is quite young, so as to complete pay- ment by the time she is of age. The father buys his son a wife; the son is then started in life. Her wedding presents are not costly, but highly useful. They are: an axe to cut wood, a large earthen vessel to bring water in, and another one to cook the food in. If she is the third wife in rotation of his purchases, she is considered and considers herself more fortunate than the fifth or sixth. There are few who dissent from the bargain their fathers make. The man of note in Africa carries no parcels. He who occupies a prominent position in Africa must not carry a package, however small; if he does, he loses caste and the respect of the people. Stores in England deliver the smallest package, even a paper of pins or a bar of soap. There as in Africa the gentleman or lady is not expected to carry a parcel on the thoroughfare. The people of Africa have a systematic mode of computation. They count in an arithmetical manner: Lundarro na makau, lundarro na bibba, lundarro na halarro, etc. — ten and one, ten and two, ten OBSERVATIONS AMONG THE CAMEROON TRIBES. " 205 and three, and on to five twenties and ten, one hundred and ten, etc. They shave their heads and cover themselves with ashes and sit on the floor to mourn, as did Job and those of his day. From whence did these people inherit these customs, if they came from baboons and gorillas, as some wise ones would have us believe? What about the native pride they possess, if they were only designed as hewers of wood and carriers of water? In their presence there you feel sur- rounded with a halo of ancient history, not a few paragraphs of which may be read on the faces and forms of these peculiar men. They have a language, and it is grammatical; 225 dialects in Africa, all springing from but two principal languages, and no doubt those two were permanent, as they have rules of grammar which could not possibly have been identical at any time. They take a pride in theii language and speak it properly. In order to have a secret language that they may use in public for private purposes, they perform the wonderful feat of speaking their language backward, and no one who has learned their language can understand them in the rapidity with which they reverse every word of a sentence. Is this genius of the brute creation, or is it not related to that high order of genius that runs railroads and speaks along the track of electric wires? They make wine and understand the processes of dis- tillation, an art perhaps they might do well without, but yet it makes them akin to the distillers of this country, of whom we have not a few. They attain a knowledge of some of the metals, and there are metallurgists among them. They know they are malleable, and make rings and anklets (bangs) of gold, and tools of iron. On their houses also are pictures of snakes, lizards and men drawn with clay of dif- ferent colors. Artists — a nation whose ancestors looked upon the wall of Carthagenia and beheld the work of masters of the pencil, and the handicraft is transmitted and remembered. The tribes of the interior towns are not so large as those who live upon river courses or by the seaside. The reason for this is ob- vious. Water people, as those are called by the natives, to distinguish them from interior people, have bathing facilities, and they always have meat all the year round. Those who live remote from rivers suffer for meat every rainy season and often have no food of any kind. The elephants are numerous at this season and destroy the farm products of the people. It lains and they can hunt but little. When the ground is soft, the elephants can travel, but in the dry sea- son the little stumps that would give way under them in the wet season 206 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. pierce and bruise their feet so that they do not trouble the people, but remain up near the interior lakes and banks of large rivers, where the ground is soft to their feet. Africans are of every cast of complexion, from white to dark. The worst fright 1 had, while in Africa, was occasioned by suddenly meeting an albino man while out hunting. For a whole year we had seen only dark people. No European had passed our way for eighteen months. 1 was not expecting to meet any white person in the jungle, much less a nude albino. Up to this time I had only seen children, and mostly infants, when all at once in the turn of a path I met this albino. Some tribes kill the albino infant, and so preserve a dark complexion throughout the tribe. They believe that the albino is the work of some evil spirit; they suffer it not to live. Other tribes think it is beautiful, and say, regarding the phenomenonof its appearance, that "nature was playing." So this white being they regard as a pleasant joke. Black can turn to white, but white never turns to black. This looks like the final extinction of the dark races of men. The arts and implements of the western tribes of Africa are few, but are ingenious and of ancient origin. In the absence of the gun, with which they are supplied by European trade, they use the cross- bow of early days, also various traps and nets of original design, the principle of which is borrowed from the early ages. One trap they use to catch animals of a large kind is especially worthy of mention. A dozen men pull a tree over and bend the top to the ground. They make a noose trap with a large loop, and attach to the top of this tree. A bunch of bananas is so placed that the animal that touches it puts his head through the loop, detaches a spring and frees the tree. They find their game suspended in the air next morning. They have blacksmiths and silversmiths. These smiths make their farm implements. They make a new bellows every morning, when the dew is on the banana leaves and they are soft and flexible. The native surgeon has a case of three instruments. All persons who die are dissected, both adults and infants, and he decides the cause of death, which is, of course, of a superstitious nature. Interior towns have a fire department. Three hundred men get as near a house which is on fire as they possibly can and simulta- neously fire into and extinguish it. One-third of the guns in a town are always loaded. These people are fruitful of expedients — build houses and make canoes with only a cutlass and axe to work with. OBSERVATIONS AMONG THE CAMEROON TRIBES. 207 They surround a country of a mile square with nets of native cord, six feet high, and kill a hundred animals that are thus enclosed. They inoculate their bodies by puncturing the skin with a sharp instrument and bathing in a decoction of bark, which prevents animals from scenting them. One hunter thus gets so near a sleeping leopard that he brings him down from his jungle bed at one shot of his gun. They are good cooks, and they can make a monkey stew or elephant foot jelly fine and palatable enough to suit the most fastidious. I believe that in the Bakundu language of the west interior of Africa we have a sample of the real original negro language. There are 225 dialects in Africa, all of which spring out of two principal .anguages— the Semitic, or Eastern, and Bantu, or Western. The Bantu is so called because ba and fu prevail through the western dia- lects either as anterior or posterior syllables. The Bakundu dialect admits of conjugation and has all the tenses but one, vi^. : the past perfect. The language is poor in number of words, but rich in depth and beautiful figurative expression of a terse character. By the addi- tion of an affix all adjectives are turned into verbs. (Ex. : Lauli — beautiful; lauliseke — to beautify,) There lies a great future before this people when they overtake the sciences of our day, when they walk the furrow of a modern plow, when they know the culture of the nineteenth century and cross their squares in electric cars, when their nude and tattered modes of dress succumb to the fashions of modern ages, when the horse-shoe falls from over the door and the witch-charm is forgotten. They will read their own history in the gloomy and distant past and wonder at the days of darkness. A sage will be a historian, and He with a pen made of all the forests, and the sea for his ink, He will write the glo- rious ecstasy of modern Africa. ETHNOLOGICAL EXHIBIT OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITU- TION AT THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION. BY OTIS T. MASON. IN the study of ethnology the following terms must be kept sharply distinct, though they apply to the same objects observed from different points of view: 1. Blood or consanguinity. 2. Language or speech. 3. Arts and industries. 4. Nationality, civil life and government science. 5. Systems of mythologic and philosophic religion. 6. Anthropophysiography, hexiology. When the human species is studied from the point of view of consanguinity, the student is entirely in the area of zoology. Men are regarded as animals. They differ in biological characteristics. Under the influence of causes known and unknown there have come to be races of men. A race is a group of human beings that have lived in a certain area long enough to have acquired differential marks that are hereditable. The longer they live in that area undisturbed and unmixed with other races, the more specialized do they become. We can imagine a time when the centrifugal forces were most active in migration and colonization. Departing from the original center or centers, groups of homo- geneous people went out to be separated for centuries. For a long time these separated groups had no contact with one another. That was the epoch of greatest differentiation. The expansion of these groups in time brought their outer margins nearer together. A desire also to multiply the means of gratification set a-going commercial activities, and these two forces, overlapping, began to wear away the distinctions between races and to break up the discrete groups of men. All we can say now concerning the term "races" is that modified iso- lation still exists, and of any people it can be said that they constitute a race just so far as they are shut oiT from the rest of the world and are propagated by intermarriage alone. They should also present some definite biological mark. 203 ETHNOLOGICAL EXHIBIT OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION. 209 2. When the races of men were forming: and the groups were segregated, each race developed a speech and a type of speech doubt- less, though it is not here al^lrmed that the four great forms of lan- guage were thus produced. \n that early time languages were origin- ated by the races and were excellent indications of consanguinity. The men who spoke the same language were of the same people. So long as the centrifugal force was in operation alone, this was the whole truth; but when the races began to overlap and to intermingle, the causes which operated to produce mixture of blood did not operate in the same way to produce mixture of language. At the present time, therefore, the question of how far the possession of a common speech is an indication of the blood relationship of those who speak it must be kept entirely separate from the study of languages on their own account. The science of glossology or comparative philology is now studied by methods of its own regardless of the people who speak. Philologists do not pretend to be ethnologists. 3. Upon the third point, how to study arts and industries, it must be observed that in the primitive period of the races physiography suggested a rule for the arts, and society created a demand for their products. The activities of each race depended upon the atmosphere, its density, temperature, moisture and degree of purity. And inti- mately associated with these phenomena would be the amount of dis- tribution of rainfall, dew, frost, ice and snow. Each region would also have its natural scenery, sea-shore, plains, lowlands and highlands. Also its mineral productions, its plants and animals, as a whole, would be to each of these areas a sort of genus loci. In contact with this en- vironment of which I have just spoken each race would be compelled to invent a series of arts connected with food, clothing, shelter, devel- oped in the exploration of nature for material and the preparation of the material in various crafts and the consumption of the prod- uct. The intimate association of these arts with the locality would operate independently of races when they came together in the centripetal process of commingling them. When the primitive consanguineous groups began to commingle, the arts did not necessarily follow the same rule. It is true and also interesting to note that groups of kindred in moving from the area have carried with them the industries of the fatherland. But these industries would not always fit into the new social and natural environments. For a brief period the love of old fashions and the knack of practicing familiar trades either kept the old art alive or preserved it with certain modili- 210 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. cations, but in the long run the people had to succumb to the order of languages inspired by the environment and were compelled to practice the arts that were dictated by Nature. When the ethnologist comes to study consanguinity and language and arts in relation to one an- other, this is his perplexity— that he cannot tell always whether a cer- tain phenomenon is a survival of the old life or a creation of the new surroundings. 4. By nationality in this connection is meant civil government, whatever form it may assume. Whenever the phrase " Russian Em- pire, Germany, France" is used, it is well known that the lands and the people under the rule of the Czar, the Emperor and the President are meant, whatever may be their blood, their language or their occu- pation. In primitive society civil government belongs especially to the tribe or the union of tribes called the nation. The adoption of strangers into each body politic, especially of women, has always taken place, but to a very much less degree in savagery than in civiliza- tion. However, it is in this regard that men segregate themselves more readily than in any other. The Eskimo are of one blood, speak- ing the same language, practicing arts that are very similar, but they are split up into hundreds of little governments, in which the people are held together by the loosest kind of social bond, and which have nothing to do with one another. Among the civilized communities there has grown up a reverence for the government, called patriotism, and this, combined with the love of one's native land, comes as a strong motive in holding the people of a nation together. Not so in savagery. Among the American tribes of Indians, indeed, the strongest civilized bond is that of kinship, which, after all, is a racial characteristic. The beliefs and philosophies of each separate people are the prod- uct of their entire life and experience. Types of beliefs with refer- ence to this world, in which we live, and to the spirit world which lies all around us invisible, have been generated by the environment in which the people have been developed more than by their blood- relation5;hip and language. The record of these is preserved in the language, but language does not create them. They are the creatures of the sun, the moon, the stars, the winds, the lightning, the rain and drought, great sheets of water, mountains, and even the commonest things connected with daily life. There is, therefore, the most inti- mate connection between the practical activities of the people, their artistic productions, their philosophies and their myths. With these ideas clearly in mind, as Curator of the Department of Ethnology in ETHNOLOGICAL EXHIBIT OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION. 21 1 the United States National Museum, charged with the Ethnological Exhibit at the World's Columbian Exposition, I have endeavored to bring together the results of the labors of men connected with the Smithsonian Institution and with the Government for the period of fifty years. I have been led to do this in order to avoid interfering with the work of the Department of Ethnology at the World's Colum- bian Exposition at large. An enlarged copy of the linguistic map prepared by Major Pow- ell (16x12 feet) has been made and hung upon the wall in the Smithsonian space. Of the fifty-seven linguistic stocks the great ma- jority of them are represented now by a very small number of indi- viduals who have lost their own connection with their ancient aborig- inal life except the few words and phrases of their language. These had to be neglected. Again, on the Pacific Coast, in the Pueblo region, and upon the plains of the Great West, the natural food sup- ply and their environmental influence have invited the assemblage of a large number of linguistic stocks. But at the time of the discovery the North American continent was inhabited by Indians speaking a few great families of languages. These are, in alphabetical order, the Algonquian, Athapaskan, Eskimauan, Iroquoian, Keresan, Kiowan, Koluschan, Muskogean, Piman, Salishan, Siouan, Skittagetan, Tan- oan, Wakashan, Yuman, Zunian. So far as possible, 1 have arranged the costumes and art productions of these families in separate alcoves, so that the student taking his po- sition in one of them may have before his eye practical solution of some of the theoretical questions which have recently arisen concerning the connection between race and language and industries and philosophies. In order to afford the student another point of view from which to look at the same set of phenomena, a few alcoves have been ar- ranged upon another plan, in which a typical industry is made the primary classific concept, tribe or jiationality the second concept, and linguistic affinities the third concept. In the Woman's Building 1 have arranged a large collection on the basis of sex. 1 have said elsewhere that Mr. Spencer's division of the history of culture into two epochs, the primitive one being called the age of militancy and the succeeding one the age of industrialism, applies more to sex than it does to ages of culture. Thus among un- civilized races or peoples there has always been a sex of militancy, of the male members of the tribe, and a sex of industrialism, meaning the female members of the tribe. 212 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. The exhibit in the Woman's Building is really a form to show what has been woman's share in the development of peaceful arts. A portion of one of the four lower rooms around the center of the build- ing is laid off into twelve groups of objects. In each group a certain art is traced in its manifestation among the three modern types of savagery, namely: the American, the Negroid and the Malayo-Poly- nesian. The arts thus laid out are as follows: 1. Preparing the food. 2. Serving the food. 3. Basketry. 4. Hand-weaving. 5. Loom- weaving. 6. Making of bark cloth. 7. Netting and crocheting. 8. Lace-making. 9. Pottery. 10. Primitive gleaning and carrying. 11. Grinding of food. 12. Carrying of burdens. The space allotted has permitted me to make only a partial ex- hibit of these leading ideas of which I have just spoken. The results in their particulars may be here stated. As is well known, the Rocky Mountain region and the plains of the Great West were once the home of the buffalo, and the stocks that lived upon that area, the Siouan, Caddoan, Kiowan, Algonquian, and to a limited extent the Shoshonean, were dominated in their activities very largely by this fact, yet not all together, for the Pawnees lived in earth lodges, the fashion of which they brought from some other region, while the Siouan tribes lived in skin tents or tepees. The Shoshonean stock aiford an excellent study of this question of environment as against blood and language and ideas. This stock occupies the Great Ameri- can Desert or Interior Basin. In the north and east they were meat- eaters and dwelt in tents. In the south and southwest they are agri- cultural, dwelling in pueblos, and practicing arts unknown to their northern kindred. In this same pueblo region, where the people lived in adobe houses, cultivated corn, beans and pumpkins, and now have flocks of sheep, there are five distinct linguistic stocks — Shoshonean, Tanoan, Keresan, Zunian and Athapaskan. The Navajo tribe were also pueblo-builders, an art which their kindred, the Apaches, never began to learn. ETHNOLOGICAL EXHIBIT OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION. 2l3 Of the fifty-seven stocks in North America, about forty dwell on the Pacific slope. The arts practiced by the people speaking these languages have been developed in connection with the natural re- sources of this coast. From the point of view of material, geograph- ically, the Pacific coast may be divided into the Ivory region, the Black Slate region, the Giant Cedar region, the region of Textile Grasses, and the Arid region. From the point of view of food there are really two characteristic areas, the fish region and the nut region. The black slate and the cedar lend themselves to the carver's tools, so that the whole totemic system of all the tribes is worked out into an infinite variety of carvings which are never absent from the house, furniture, clothing and the tools of the people. The inexhaustible supplies of fish and the extension of an archipelago for many thou- sands of miles developed the great fishing canoes, which are marvels of savage workmanship. The cedar bark, the long, slender pine roots and the textile grasses are the material causes of the wonderful variety of textile products in this region. The abundance of pine nuts and acorns in certain areas developed the harvester, the burden-bearer and the miller with their appliances. The bow and arrow had a re- markable development on this western coast. There is a lack here, as in the arctic regions, of hickory, ash, osage-orange and other dif- ferent elastic woods, so the natives have been driven to substitute the most ingenious devices. The Shoshonean and the tribes of Oregon and Washington ply and put back of the broad, thin bow of yew a mass of finely shredded sinew mixed with animal glue. This was laid on so carefully as to seem a part of the wood, and with so much skill as to get the greatest result, without shrinking or breaking the wood. The Eskimo arrived at the same result in another way. They make a very long twine of finely twisted sinew and apply this in the form of a cable to the back of the bow made of twin-wood. The arrows of the Pacific coast present the greatest variety in the world. It is impossible to describe them here. They will be minutely worked out in a paper which 1 am now preparing. It should be stated, how- ever, of them, that in constructing each one of them the savage me- chanic has been guided by the materials that were neai his hands and the kind of work that had to be done by his arrow. He has in each case placed marks of his individual ownership and of his tribe some- where upon the shaft. But these marks leave no deep impression. They are only skin-deep; they are never of the first importance. The 214 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. essential characteristics are due to environmental causes — the material out of which the object is to be made, the facilities for making it, and the work to be done. The conclusion at which 1 have arrived from the arrangement pursued in the Smithsonian exhibit at the World's Columbian Ex- position may be stated somewhat as follows: The American aborigines are practically of one blood or race throughout the entire continent. Dr. Brinton emphatically proclaims this view. Professor Putnam seems to hold to a double race, two races in fact, one developed in the north, the dolichocephalic, and one in the south, the brachycephalic. The modern aborigines are a mixture of the two. One thing is certain, that there are on this continent a great number of culture areas, where groups of people have gone and have developed hundreds of separate languages, social structures, sciences and mythologic systems. They have not remained there long enough to breed races with differential and hereditable characters. But they have in these habitats also worked out many series of arts, both in the practical and the aesthetic class. As in all other parts of the world, so in America there is a law of relationship between the tribes of men and the culture area. There is an element of intellectuality and an element of materiality in each hu- man product. The former belongs rather to the people subjectively considered, the latter to the soil, objectively considered. Language, civil government, science and religion not being made out of any ma- terial things, and being easily carried about and practiced from land to land, are of the subjective or intellectual class. These, language es- pecially, being the product of people who are blood kindred, form the best guide to the study of race. It is not forgotten, however, that the human species has long since passed into the centripetal or congrega- tive stage of culture, that every tribe has received elements of its lan- guage from others, and that whole masses of people have been forc- ibly compelled to accept the language of their conquerors. In such violent transitions, however, the conquered have often refused to intermarry, and have preserved the very best marks of race, namely, their zoological characteristics. The Bureau of Ethnology of the Smithsonian Institution has most assiduously devoted itself to the investigation of the languages, the sociology, the science and the religions of the American aborigines. The results have been published to the world, and they agree with the ETHNOLOGICAL EXHIBIT OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION. 21 5 statements here made that the diflferentiations among these savages have been and are largely upon the intellectual elements of activity, what Mr. Spencer has called the regulative side of industry. It must not be forgotten, however, that in every one of the regu- lative or intellectual classes of action there is a material element. Languages are not only spoken, but written, and speaking and writing are not the only way men have of expressing thought. There is a proposition in every work of men's hands. Indeed, there are many propositions. The same is more true of social life, science and relig- ion. Each one of these involves the use of places and things; of sub- stantial materials, of apparatus, of activities of the body, of perceptible results. The acts of life, on the contrary, are in each culture area in- digenous. They are materialized under the patronage and director- ship of the region. As 1 have said, a man or a woman in doing work must have materials (mineral, vegetal, animal); he must work with substantial apparatus; the processal part of its work is bounded by natural forms and places and seasons. What he creates is a thing which may or may not be of any use anywhere else, since each industrial product is in a double set of relations, being the finished product of one trade and the tool of another. You can see how easy it is for a people to carry their speech with them, compared with the diiliculty of transporting their etfects, their impedimenta. Even though they do not actually carry the things, they must bear in mind all that enter into their making and their use. But, as there is solid material associated with the intellectual cul- ture concepts, so there is an ideal in all substantial activities. These are what the tribe or the horde may freely carry about. I have al- ready spoken of this. There are degrees of ideality among the industries of men, and the same craft passes on in its elaboration from the natural to the arti- ficial, from the materialistic to the ideal. In primitive life each culture region decides what food, clothing, shelter and bed men must use. But, as they progress, they become independent of this law, they widen the culture area by the multiplication of wants and the refine- ment of taste until the whole world becomes an unique, comprehen- sive and undivided home for the whole race. Already this dispersive work had begun when America was dis- covered. Commerce had scattered mineral substances far and wide. No one knows where the Pueblo people, the Mexicans, the Peruvians obtained their com, melons and multitudinous beans. The history of 216 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. the Plains Indians regarding- their houses, bows and arrows, and even their dress, will be difficult to write. Even the ideal forms, the artistic forms and patterns, had begun to scatter and to possess this continent. It would be difficult to decide whether the curious shell gorgets de- scribed by Mr. Holmes were made on the spot in Tennessee from a shell bought in Florida, or bought already made in Florida by one who had migrated from Mexico; or bought in Mexico already made from a Florida shell and carried to Tennessee. The number of ex- amples might be multiplied, but 1 think 1 have made myself clear. THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. An Experimental Study. BY FRANK HAMILTON GUSHING. IN the winter of l890-'9l, I gathered, on the Canadian shore of Lake Erie, opposite Butfalo, a considerable collection of potsherds showing textile impressions of cordage and netting, both coarse and fine. These sherds were, in this respect, strikingly similar to the primitive pottery of other shore-lands along the great lakes, rivers and sea coasts, not only of the United States, but also of the Old World. Recalling the fact that I had very generally observed, in col- lections of ancient pottery from such sources, that these features were more constantly associated with the pottery remains apparently of fisher-folk than with those of tribes in other conditions of life, 1 was led to make careful comparison of specimens in collections from Oneida, Cayuga, Onondaga and Chautauqua lakes, as well as from the shores of Lake Ontario, with specimens in collections from interior portions of the State, also abundantly represented in my boyhood gatherings. The result was striking. I found that in no case did these features of the shore-land pottery of at least the largest of these lakes characterize to any extent the inland pottery. On the other hand, the pottery of the lake shores, even when, as shown by asso- ciated relics, it had been the work of tribes from the inland (probably during their fishing seasons), rarely showed characteristics of inland decoration or form. This led naturally to the conclusion that some- thing in the habits and practices of the fisher mode of life itself had influenced the methods of manufacture, development of forms, and even decorations, of pottery in ancient fishing-camps, especially of such vessels as had evidently been used for cooking. In view of this conclusion, I more carefully examined the rich Erie shore middings, seeking not only for relics themselves, but also for any traces in the soil or hearth-sites which might help me to de- termine how clay had been procured, manipulated, fashioned and burned to form so distinct a type of ware. In an outlying portion of the large camp-ground 1 was examining many of the midding-sites had almost disappeared, the wind having drifted the sand away from 217 218 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. them until only the foundations of hearths and the heavier stones and implements once used about them were left. In such places I found, now and then, rings or circles of indurated and more or less black- ened and reddened sand, varying in size from a few inches to a foot or more in diameter. The contiguous denuded hearths were character- ized likewise by reddened and blackened sand, which occurred, how- ever, in patches more or less continuous and not so round, not in circles. Stones, too, showing the effects of fire, always appeared within or around these larger hearth-patches, although not always found directly associated with the circles in question. I concluded, therefore, that these circles had been formed for use in some special process, and was inclined, at first, to believe that they had been used in firing pottery. On carefully excavating some of them, I ascer- tained that they were the remains of conical concavities or pits, their bottoms and sides quite compact, as though a small quantity of clay or mud had been mixed with the sand composing their perimeters and had hardened by drying or by having been burned. Thus these rings were, it would seem, the worn-off edges of such conical, sometimes funnel-shaped pits, recalling the large mescal pits and ripening-ovens of the Southwestern tribes, and at once suggesting that these small sand-pits may have been modeled after pits in the sand once likewise used for baking, say fish or other food. Reminded of a practice of the wandering Walapais (Hualapais) observed by me whilst exploring the plateaus of Western Arizona in the summer of 1881, I was the more inclined to take this view, yet to modify and amplify it considerably. These Walapais live among the great lava buttes and on the desolate arid plateaus to the west of Cataract Canon in Yavapai County, Arizona. During dry seasons they store water in sandy arroyos or at the foot of lava gulches, and even in the coarse talus, simply by forming pot-shaped pits, sometimes of considerable size, and plastering the bottoms and sides of them with clay. Without further ado the water is introduced and covered over or sealed to prevent evaporation. The clay, even though plastic, renders the porous soil or talus in which these water-pits are excavated perfectly impervious, so long as they contain enough water to keep it thus plastic or moist. I conceived that the mere observation of nature had in times past taught these rude people this simple and ingenious expedient. In that desert and sandy region heavy showers fall during certain months, filling the arroyos with freshets which, when the rain ceases, speedily THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 219 disappear, flowing rapidly away and being drunk up in the porous, sandy bottoms. Often, however, these arroyos cleave through argil- lacious banks, and some of the clay of these, being levegated and washed down by the rushing water, is deposited in depressions along their courses, especially where these are deep or occur at turns or eddies in the arroyos. Thus, these water-worn hollows or pits are lined with fine clay silt, and long after the stream has disappeared in other places, and the surrounding bottoms are parched and dusty, the traveler may find water in the natural clay-lined reservoirs thus formed, and readily learn, as the Walapais of old have learned, the lesson they convey. Returning to a consideration of my theory regarding a possible early use of clay-lined sand-pits for cookery, it now occurred to me that if such were used they might in turn have been suggested by like observations — say at the mouths of streams along sandy, freshet-washed shores — and might thus have come to be made and utilized not only for baking, but also in boiling, by means of hot stones. Indeed, it seemed to me that this latter may have been the earlier use connected with them, and that, if so, the discovery of pottery-making in pits, or of its possibility, must have followed more or less speedily on such usage, and that, when adopted, the practice of fashioning pottery, es- pecially for cooking, by more thinly lining such sand-pits with suitable clay, drying, and then firing them, would have become normal, and might naturally have persisted to quite a late day.* I therefore determined to test these inferences by experiment. On returning home, 1 gathered clay and a quantity of sand. With the * On examining the proof-sheets of this article, Mr. F. W. Hodge, of the Bureau of American Ethnology, has kindly called my attention to a passage in the work of Stephen Powers {Tribes of California in Contributions to North Am- erican Ethnology, Vol. HI, p. 150, 1877), which substantiates almost step by step this course of reasoning, the more so, as the reasoning in question was based wholly on the observations and experiments recorded in the text, and without knowledge that any living tribes had been observed actually using clay or mud- lined pits for stone-boiling, etc. Speaking of the Pomo Indians (a coast tribe of Northwestern California), Mr. Powers says: "Buckeyes are poison, but they extract the toxical principal from them by steaming them two or three days under ground. They first excavate a large hole, pack it water-tight around the sides, burn a fire therein for some space of time, then put in the buckeyes together with water and heated stones," etc. I do not doubt that further observations of other tribes of tiie Calitornian coast would confirm, by living examples, yet other steps in the development of pit-made pottery as traced later on in the pages of this article. 220 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. latter I made a pot-shaped pit like those 1 had discovered the faint re- mains of, rubbing- thick clay-water around its perimeter to make the bottom and sides firmer, and keep the vertical portions from caving in. I allowed this form to dry. In the course of only two or three hours it had become comparatively hard. I then mixed clay-paste, with which to form, inside of the pit, the walls of a vessel. Whilst the bottom and the lowermost portion of the sides of an incipient vessel could thus be formed with great ease, I soon found that it was nearly impossible to cause the thin wall of clay to adhere and thus retain its position higher up. It theil first occurred to me that strips of bark, or fiber, or netting, might be pressed into the pit and used not only to hold the clay in place around its sides whilst being built up, but also to aid in lifting the green vessel out when fashioned, for drying. I therefore roughly netted together some coarse cordage in the form of a bag of suitable size and introduced this into the pit. The first ex- periment made proved a failure. When I had built up the clay nearly to the margin of the form, its sides collapsed inward, netted cordage and all. Again 1 proceeded as before, this time, however, weighting the edge-strings of the bag down to the surrounding" surface with rocks. I succeeded perfectly in fashioning the vessel; but, on endeav- oring to draw it out, found, of course, that it would be necessary to lift evenly on all the edge-strings, else the still soft vessel would give way or at best be utterly distorted when taken out of its mould, by the unequal strain of the strings. It very quickly occurred to me that these difficulties could be overcome by attaching the strings to a hoop, then lifting the vessel out by means of that. Following this plan, I succeeded completely. The vessel left its bed easily, retaining its shape at the bottom and sides perfectly, but both the net and the hoop happened to be too small, hence the rim was puckered in by the taut- ness and indrawing of the strings near the edge and was thereby con- siderably contracted (as shown by lines a, a, a, Fig. 2). I managed, however, by scraping the inside of this rim with clam-shells, to at once thin it and restore its roundness without causing it again to enlarge. I found, moreover, that I could cause the vessel to con- tract still more just below the rim, by constricting it with a band tied around the net-support at this point, {b, b, b, Fig. 3), then repeating the scraping process (on the inside) to again smooth off the pucker- ings or corrugations thus made and to reshape and toughen or weld the rim and constriction. After smoothing the outside of the vessel here and there where its weight had caused the cords (especially at the THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 221 bottom) to cut into it and form protruding lumps or bulges between the meshes, I suspended it to a couple of poles, supported horizontally, and left it to swing and dry in the wind and sun. Thus exposed, it set within an hour or two, becoming so firm that 1 successfully removed, by a sort of gradual peeling-off process, as one takes ol^" a tight glove, the netted bag in which it had been suspended. After it had been slightly dressed down and welded where necessary by more scraping inside and out, with clam-shells, I was surprised and delighted to find that its general surface presented almost the exact appearance of the outer surfaces of the sherds I had been finding, save that the textile impressions were coarser in my specimen than in the ancient ones. Another feature of resemblance was even more striking. The greater number and slight obliquity of cord impressions at the Fig-. 1. rim, where by binding in the meshes I had caused them to gather or closely approach each other, and by the scraping process in the form- ing of the neck had caused them to become slightly twisted or strained sidewise, represented so faithfully the markings on some of the rim potsherds 1 had found, that I could no longer doubt I had followed approximately identical methods in the making of this experimental pot which the ancients long before had followed in the making of their veritable ones. After this 1 lost no time in providing myself with a better sand- form enclosed in a very large tub (Fig. 1), and with an elevated mar- gin or bank of sand around it {a, a), over which to stretch the edges of my hoop-net {b, b), and peg or weight them down when in use, as shown in the accompanying sketch {c, d). This form 1 made very 222 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. large, in order to test my discovery to the utmost, by shaping in it a vessel as large as any whose remains I had ever found. I also studied the impressions of knots and meshes on the ancient sherds, and then proceeded to make a large conical net-bag with identical (rather small) meshes and knots, fastening a stout hoop to its mouth precisely as dip-nets are formed and fashioned. I observed that the potsherds I had collected had been made of ordinary red clay-paste heavily charged with a tempering material of either calcined and pulverized stone (usually granite) or of burnt shells, or of both. Familiar with the fact that clay requires a degraissant or tempering material of some sort to keep vessels made of it from crack- ing, whilst drying, I was nevertheless surprised that sand — the usual and in these cases seemingly unavoidable admixture — had been used very sparingly. At the same time it was obvious that, if my theory in reference to an early use of sand-pits, plastered with clay to render them water-tight for stone-boiling, were correct, then the merely acci- dental introduction of burnt stone, or of calcined shells occurring about the hearth in or near which the boiling-pits had been made, would sometimes occur. And, in case a pit boiled dry, or was used for baking, as no doubt it often might be, and its lining happened thus to be burned to hardness, then, sooner or later, the sufficiency of these pit-linings themselves, as well as the value of such admixture of for- eign materials in preventing their excessive shrinkage and cracking, would become apparent. Still, the preference of calcined shell or stone and sand as temper- ing stuff remained to be accounted for. 1 therefore procured some fragments of micaceous and feldspathic granite, and a quantity of mussel-shells, and separately calcined them until nearly friable, then mixed and pulverized them on a flat rock with a cobble-stone, pro- portioning the burnt stone and shell (more of the latter than of the former) as they appeared to have been proportioned in the ancient potsherds, and mixing them thoroughly, by kneading, with moist clay. With this mixture I built up inside the net (introduced into the sand form, of course, and held in place by four or five pegs inside of its wooden rim) a very large pot. The clay-paste thus mixed was suf- ficiently adhesive, yet not so sticky as the paste made simply with raw sand and clay, but even the thin walls formed of it were firmer. It possessed another and unexpected quality: it hardened so rapidly whilst being built up that 1 had to work fast to finish the pot ere even the mass of it in the lump had become too stiff for use without remoist- THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 223 ening and remixing. By the time I had built the pot up eighteen or twenty inches (the pit was nearly two feet deep, conical, and about eighteen inches in diameter at the margin), the bottom and lower sides had already set. I at once, therefore, lifted the vessel out of its form, suspended it as before, and, by passing cords in and out of the meshes like a drawing-string around and just below the rim (a, Fig. 3), caused this, which still remained plastic, to contract to the desired size of the mouth and neck, then rapidly finished off by scraping inside, as in the first instance. The whole operation had been so easy, and had required so short a time, that 1 determined, whilst waiting for the big vessel to dry (after removing the net and re-introducing it into the pit) to try other experiments. 1 therefore mixed some more paste, this time adding only calcined and crushed shells as tempering material, again in the proportion exhibited by ancient specimens of the more delicate sort. This paste required more water in kneading, out was nevertne- less, while more plastic at first, firmer and still less adhesive than the former mixture. But it also hardened much more rapidly— measur- ably as does hydraulic cement, — and it was impossible for me to build the pot up in the pit and net more than a few inches before my ma- terial (in the lump) became too hard for use, because— as 1 soon Fiff. 2. learned— of an excess of calcined shell. This was a fortunate acci- dent, however, for I found that, by lifting the unfinished bowl-shaped vessel out, I had only to hang the net up, lace it in at or above the un- 224 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. completed rim as before (see lowest section, a, Fig. 2), and behold, a miniature pot, in shape quite like the last made vessel, was produced, merely by a little tlnishing-oflf. It became obvious that, as the accompanying diagrams (Figs. 2 and 3) illustrate, vessels of any size, from the capacity of a pint to that of many gallons, could be formed in the same pit, and also by use of the same net. Thus, conical vessels could be made by tying the net in above the rim (as at a, a, a, Fig. 2), or could be made pot-shaped by tying or gath- ering it in below the rim {b, b, b, Fig. 3). Fig. 3. I tried yet another expenment, that of forming a third vessel of clay mixed only with the calcined stone. To some extent this paste partook of the nature of the shell-mixed paste, but it set a little less rapidly. Singularly enough, however, it was not so tough whilst moist, yet harder, and not therefore so deeply impressed by the sup- porting net cords, or so easily reshaped when setting after having been taken out, being less plastic; but, the material being " shorter " so to say, it was much more readily finished by scraping. f he relative value of these three admixtures to clay-paste, namely, burnt shell and stone, calcined shell alone, and burnt stone alone, re- mained to be tested by firing. I constructed a very simple kiln of stone and mud, fragments of fire brick, etc. (being desirous of burn- ing all three vessels equally, hence together, and therefore abandoning for the time being the burning of them in separate sand-pits), and subjected them therein to a red heat for some three or four hours. THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 225 The vessel first formed (of paste mixed with calcined stone and shell combined) was better in some respects than either of the others The shell material had acted on certain components of the granite to very partially flux them, and the resulting ware was good, ringing, brick- like earthenware, like by far the greater number of ancient specimens. The second specimen (of shell and clay only) was not so strong, although beautifully burned. It had slightly scaled in one or two places, was somewhat softer — easily scratched with a flint knife— and tended to disintegrate in spots when in contact for any length of time with water, again the result of too great an admixture of shell; for the latter, converted to lime by the firing, tended to slake and expand when too much wetted. By far the most useful, though not the strongest ware, was that made of the clay mixed with calcined stone only. It was neither much afliected by the heat, nor by water, and would have served ad- mirably as an every-day cooking-pot had it been less fragile. To overcome the latter defect, 1 therefore, in a subsequent experi- ment, introduced calcined shell in greatly diminished proportion, in- creasing by as much the amount of calcined and crushed granite; with the result of producing a ware which was at once very strong, like the first, and, like the last, sutficiently fire- and water-proof to serve all ordinary primitive culinary requirements. 1 found that in the absence of shell a paste consisting of much more calcined stone than of clay would set so rapidly that it could be built up, strip by strip or lump by lump, without much support. This made a ware so coarse and friable, before burning, that it had to be reinforced by a thin slip- wash or external coating of fine or " fat " clay-paste and sand and by weld-scraping or patting with a spatula of shell or other material. The surface of such a vessel took a very smooth finish, was easily in- dented by the finger-nail, or with stick and bone tools, and when properly decorated by these means, and burned a long time, exactly resembled that of the inland pottery. This resemblance extended as well to its composition after burning. A fragment seen in section consisted apparently of three layers: an outer, moderately thin coating, a medial, dark, stony, rather thick portion, and an inner, smooth, very thin and black lamina, or, rather, surface. This latter had been produced by the inside scraping or "welding," the "washing" and the smoothing processes. That is, the inner surface, having been rendered even and thoroughly blended where paste had been added to paste, by scraping and patting with the edge and flat portion of a 226 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. shell, then smoothed by moistening and rubbing with the rounded portion of the shell, all fragments of the stone or grit had been forced toward the center into the mass or medial portion and an excellent surface left for " smudging " by the smoke which accumulated inside of the vessel whilst being burnt in an open rotten-wood fire. The outer surface coating formed a distinct layer firmly adhering to the gritty middle portion, but presenting a red or lighter contrasting color, and, of course, a finer texture. In all of these respects the ware of my experiments last recorded as closely resembled, when broken, the sherds of pottery from the inland camp sites as fragments of the earlier experimental products did that of the shore-land mid- dings. It is not my purpose to analyze in the present paper the processes of pottery manufacture as practiced by the tribes of New York under the influence of their inland, forest environment. I have studied them out to the minutest details by like experimental means, using, in place of sand-pit forms, stitched or separate bark piece-moulds, and basketry, matting and pieces of other textile in place of the dip-nets. I have mentioned a few of these processes here, chiefly to exemplify and em- phasize the importance and function of the degraissant or tempering material and its varying kinds, as seen in various qualities of this ware. It became evident to me that superiority of strength and im- munity from cracking, however important, were but secondary, or, I may say, incidental objects to the primitive artisan in the adding of coarse tempering ingredients to his terra cotta material. His first or most conscious object was to make a paste which would be short, not too sticky, and would set rapidly and thus retain its shape whilst being moulded, principally (in case of inland tribes) by hand. He had dis- covered in ways I have above indicated and in other easily conceivable ways that burnt stone, burnt shell, burnt sand even, mixed with clay, was superior to unburnt material for giving it, to some extent, the quality of a true hydraulic cement, which could nevertheless be slowly built up if sufficiently worked and welded during the operation, and, when left alone for a few moments, had the remarkable property of hardening or setting, although still moist, sufficiently to keep its shape. Therefore, much of the lacustrine net-impressed pottery, formed, as it apparently was, in sand-pits, and held in shape by them, as well as, whilst being dried and finished by suspension in a dip-net, as often as not contains but a comparatively limited amount of tem- pering material, and that chiefly of burnt shell. Much of the inland THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 227 pottery, however, which was moulded up by hand or with but the slight- est supports of plaited, splint, or wattled basketry, bark, or wooden forms, contains an excessive amount of burnt, coarsely crushed rock, into which is sometimes introduced a little calcined and powdered shell or even bone, by which admixtures the paste of which it was made was converted into a cement easily manageable and, when fully shaped, susceptible of leisurely and elaborate finishing, even after drying. I may add that with primitive peoples who use rotating base- moulds (.like those of the Zuni, which, being convex-bottomed, readily turn, and form true archetypes of the potter's wheel), by being able to build or coil up very green or plastic paste and model it freely even be- fore setting, finer (in fact, very fine) tempering material may be and is used, such as sifted sand or ground stone, more with our own idea of merely communicating strength to their fictiles than of facilitating the moulding of them. But even amongst such peoples calcined ma- terial is resorted to whenever a work of peculiar intricacy and ditfi- culty is undertaken in which much hand modeling is needful. In such case, burnt stone or powdered and sometimes recalcined pot- sherds are used as the tempering-stuff. But in the case of ruder peoples of the interior, like the Iroquois or their predecessors, the process of pottery-making was more dit^l- cult and tedious, as has been partially and might be far more fully shown. For this reason and because of the greater availability of the stone-clay ware for general, and particularly for cooking uses, it was both more highly prized and more finely finished than the shore-land pottery of the same peoples. It was, however, very heavy and quite easily broken, hence not readily transported. On the other hand, the sandpit-formed and net- or textile-sup- ported pottery, while limited in variety of form, not so easily finished or highly decorated, and not quite so serviceable, was still very well suited to temporary use. It was so readily and rapidly made, more- over, that the pottery of the home camps (especially that used in cookery) only very rarely needed to be transported to the fishing- grounds on the shores of the lakes and great rivers. In illustration of this 1 may state that, although a novice, 1 was able, by using the sand-pit mould and dip-net support as described, to turn out in a single day (the third after beginning these experiments) vessels large and small to the number of half a dozen or more, which on the fol- lowing day would have been, had haste required it, quite ready for firing. 228 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Although some of the explorations which led to these experiments were carried on when 1 was a boy, and although the experi- ments themselves were begun more than two years ago, I have lacked, until quite lately, the conclusive evidence of such primitive sand-pit cooking as 1 had assumed naturally prevailed at first among peoples living along the shores of considerable bodies of water, and maintaining themselves, partly at least, by fishing; hence using dip- nets, etc. During my stay at the Columbian Exposition, however, happily I was invited by Mr. D. H. Burnham, Chief of Works, to visit for a day or two his pleasant home in Evanston, close to the south and western shores of Lake Michigan. During this visit I explored high, sandy blutTs lying northward of the Northwestern University Reserve, and there discovered in one place some exceedingly ancient middings. In these no pottery occurred, yet traces of sand-pits such as I have described, but ruder and shallower, were found, and around them plentiful boiling-stones (reddened and crackled by alternate heating and immersion in water) were also found, indicating that probably these pits had actually been used as boiling-holes or pots, so to call them. I therefore now feel measurably certain, not only that forms in sand could easily be used, and would naturally come to be used in moulding and burning pottery by rude fisher or shore-land folk, but also that the practice of cooking in clay-lined sand-pits by means of heated stones would as easily lead to this use of such forms and might explain much in reference to the employment of burnt shell, burnt stone, etc., in pottery-making throughout widely sepa- rated regions of the earth. It would explain equally well the still wider prevalence of textile impressions on pottery like that of our eastern and southern camp-sites, either as indicating the use of cord- age, netting or cloth-forms, at first, for supporting the clay whilst being fashioned into vessels, or else as the survival of such usage in manipulatory processes suggested by it, and in decorations suggested in turn by or practically growing out of experiences involved in such processes. Numerous examples of pottery from here and there the world over, made apparently in pits and with nets or bags, that is, so com- pletely resembling the products of my experiments as to serve admir- ably for illustrating them, the processes by which I produced them and the observations suggested thereby as above recorded, might be given in detail. Still more numerous examples of pottery showing impor- tant variations in decoration and form almost unmistakably derivative THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 229 from such beginnings and processes might also be referred to. But my purpose is, for the time being, to simply suggest and in a merely general way to evidence the probable intluences which led to the first origins of the primal types, the first use in them of burnt shell and crushed stone tempering material, and the first beginnings in them of the widespread practice of working, finishing or stamping the surfaces of vessels, highly ditTerentiated from such primeval sand-pit types in almost every other way, with cordage, netting and textiles, or textile patterns. The extremely easy steps by which a fisher-folk using dip-nets, and continuing to cook their fish, etc., with hot stones in clay-lined sand-pits, would discover at once the useful terra cotta quality of clay when burnt, and all the processes by which it could be manipulated to render it thus useful, would lead, 1 think we may safely conclude, to the making of such pottery in quite identical ways, yet independently, by widely separated peoples. The practice of storing water in clay- lined hollows is, as has been shown, suggested by nature. The prac- tice of cooking fish, at any rate, (and other food, such as was gen- erally eaten without broth or its liquor), in such hollows, would be a very simple additional step to a people used to cookery with hot stones as so many of the most primitive tribes of men have been. Thus the discovery, sooner or later, that the clay lining repeatedly used and re- paired with gritty plasterings was better than a new one, and that when burned it might be used without hot stones by the removal of some of the sand from around or from underneath it and the direct application of fire, and finally that it might be removed and thus used even apart from its original sand-bed, would as naturally follow; and with the use of the dip-net in fishing would come, sooner or later, also the suggestion that the clay lining might be made thinner and held up in forming, and lifted out for drying by the net (from the pit it was formed or bedded in), just as this suggestion came to me through stuiy and experiment with similar appliances and materials and under similar conditions. The best indication that this is practically the his- tory of repeated discoveries of the potter's art by widely severed peo- ples and at very various times, lies not alone in the universality of net- and cord-impressed ware alongside of or within the regions contiguous to nearly all great bodies of water the world over, and the still wider distribution of pottery with a shell tempering material, but also in the fact that the ruder and presumably earlier types of such net-impressed pottery are almost always conical, high, comparatively wide at the 230 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. mouth, and but slightly constricted at the neck, as though built up in- side of a mould of increasing diameter, in order that they might be more readily lifted. It may be well to add that a vessel of this form is better adapted practically (as well as by survival of asso- ciation) for cooking in sandy places. Like the boiling-pots of the Navajo on the sandy plateaus of the Southwest, it could be readily set up for cooking by thrusting its tapering base into the loose, heavy sand and building a fire around it. When, however, cooking with pottery began to prevail in the forests of the inland, where surface and other conditions were quite different, the vessel had to be made differently to meet different require- ments and to facilitate suspension or propping up. It had to be made narrower at the neck than a vessel simply formed in a net could be made, and its rim or upper portion at least had to be very wide or flaring, therefore necessarily formed in other ways, the use of a heav- ier and more abundant tempering material, for instance, being em- ployed to facilitate manipulation. It needs must have not only a greatly expanded rim or border to facilitate suspension, but also wider shoul- ders below the neck to protect from burning the sapling hoop, bark or fiber binding, forked wooden props or other device by which it was suspended over or held up on a fire — in this case probably built under- neath rather than around it. Thus, and through the influence of bark and wooden vessels so common to the forest life and so likely to be used as models ( if not wholly or in part used at first for supporting the clay of which vessels like them were being formed), a great number, at least, of the variations in the types of inland pottery from the types of shore-land pottery may be accounted for, even when the inland pottery was evidently made by the same people, who continued more or less to make the old kind of shore-land pottery, as apparently the New York tribes did. It may be inferred that peoples of the farther interiors, who con- tinued the use of burnt shell tempering itself — though they varied their methods of working clay, as did the mound-builders — or who used other tempering material, yet continued to give a textile-marked finish to the surface of their wares, as did many southeastern tribes, that such a people had some time been shore-land dwellers, or else had directly inherited or derived their art in clay from shore-land dwellers. This becomes the more apparent if we consider that a people who, like the Zuni and other Pueblos, developed (or perhaps re-developed) their art of pottery through the use of gourds and water-tight basketry. THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 23l etc., as 1 have shown in my paper on this subject in the Fourth An- nual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, never introduce a shell tempering into their ware, not having, of course, in their arid, almost waterless land, passed through a fisher period of development at such time as to affect their development of the art itself. it is not unlikely that during the earliest time of the human occu- pancy of this continent tribes of men were scattered only along the sea-shores, where the presence of shellfish as well as of free swimming fish and Crustacea assured the comparatively easy acquisition of a con- stant food supply. It is quite as likely, we may suppose, that when tribes, grown numerous and therefore contentious over these natural vantage-grounds, drove some of their numbers to penetrate the inte- rior, these followed the great water-ways, loth to part with the mother- like element which had so long maintained them and had fostered their increase until some needs must move away. To those who per- force first braved the wilderness, the lakes became new homes, where in part their old fisher life could be continued, and where new con- ditions could be gradually met and mastered. Those who in turn, grown hunters rather than fishermen, ascended the rivers and streams which led down to these lakes, peopling wood- lands and valleys, still, as a rule, returned each season to draw new life, as it were, from the waters. In eastern and southern regions, at least, they did not wander ceaselessly. The forest, with her teeming winged and four-footed denizens, became their new mother, inviting them to stay in every favorable valley, not to constantly shift their places of abode. And so into the forest they could well carry their potter's art born of their earlier fisher life, not finding it less useful, but more so than on the shores, and slowly modifying it to meet new conditions, yet retaining to the last certain survivals of the art as orig- inally developed. Such, for example, would seem to have been the case with the ancestral Iroquoian tribes. In their ancient forest strongholds the sherds of their flctiles are almost as varied in form and decoration as tiiey are numerous, differing essentially, yet along distinctive lines, as 1 have already stated, from either their own shore pottery or the pottery of other peoples on coasts or lake shore. It would seem from this that they must have been for many generations a forest people more than a shore-land people, the comparatively shallow, narrow- necked, wide- rimmed and broad-shouldered style of their cooking-pots, as well as the extraordinary fashion they had of making tlie majority of the rims 232 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. or borders of these pots more or less angular (that is, three, four or five-sided) and of decorating them with stitch-like nickings and quill- like line-drawn markings, showing the influence of folded and stitched bark vessels quite as much as the necessity for suspension over the fire in forestry use. In a line with this is the fact that as a rule (with exceptions, of course) the pottery of the northeastern Algonquian tribes at least is, if 1 may judge from examples I have seen in New England (and even from Virginia), relatively deeper, more conical, relatively narrower at the shoulders than at the rim, more deco- rated with cord-, net- or textile-impressed or stamped markings than with straight-lined incisions, and, above all, is more generally charac- terized by a shell tempering than is the inland pottery of the Iroquoian tribes. And this would seem to indicate that as a rule, while the pristine Iroquoian was a forest-dweller, the Algonquian continued longer to be a man of tide-water regions — not a forest-dweller to a sufficiently ex- clusive extent or for long enough periods after penetrating inland to work such marked changes in his pottery art as were wrought in that of his more exclusively forest-dwelling neighbors. In the case of his relatives in the far West, he seems rather to have forgotten his potter's art as he penetrated the desolate reaches of the northern regions, in his slow shifting thitherward, until, coming out on the borders of the great plains, we find him returning to his stone-boiling, using (as did the Blackfoot Algonquians) green skins instead of clay wherewith to line buffalo wallows or artificial holes for this purpose. So the tribes who, pressing on, passed the forests and entered the great plains; the peoples driven down from the high north into the land of the bison; the punier tribes of the Pacific shore seeking refuge in the mountains and in the great arid wastes they enclosed — we may judge that at first all of these speedily cast away their pottery as too fragile and cumbersome for transport in their life of ceaseless wander- ing. And we may also well suppose that by many of them the pot- ter's art thus disused was wholly forgot, stone-boiling in skins, as with the Blackfeet and other plains tribes, or in comparatively light water- tight baskets, as with the Utes and Walapais, replacing it for so long as the wandering life was maintained, then giving rise to a new gen- esis of the potter's art — like that of the Pueblos and Pimas, when through stress of circumstance and the necessitous adoption of horti- culture their ancestral tribes came to rest once more. One may reasonably ask why, if the discovery of pottery-mak- ing by coast or shore-land peoples was so simple as to have been al- THE GERM OF SHORE-LAND POTTERY. 233 most inevitable — as has been assumed in the preceding paragraphs — why all coast or shore-land peoples did not practice that art. It may be answered that well-nigh all such peoples, to judge by the anciant remains gathered from the sea shores, lake shores or the shores of great rivers in all lands, have practiced that art. Whenever we find an exception to this widely prevailing rule, we may usually find an immediate cause therefor. For example, numerous tribes of the Northwest Coast, considerably advanced in other arts, had made no progress in pottery-making when first found by voyagers. The rea- son for this was simple. They lived in a country which furnished easily worked material, like the redwood and spruce of their region, the soft black slate and fire-proof, easily-carved marls so abundant there. Nor is it wholly certain that these tribes, as found in historic times, had been coast-dwellers uninterruptedly from the earliest times, for their art in basketry and horn, etc., seems to indicate that they had one time or another been influenced by quite ditTerent environ- ments, and that, when finally settling on the coast, they were already supplied with portable vessels for their stone-boiling, obviating the necessity for using the crude boiling-pit of Nature's ready suggesting. Yet even here there was a time when their own ancestors or their re- mote predecessors on the caast, as the case may be, did know the pot- ter's art in one of its crudest states, as shown now and then by re- mains found as far north as Alaska. Again, the islanders and some of the coast tribes of Southern and Lower California did not, when first found, make vessels of clay. But again these peoples were living in a region where exhaustless supplies of superior steatite occurred, and this, even had they earlier discovered the possibilities of clay, they preferred, no doubt, as being more durable, for the material of their cooking-pots. Nevertheless their predecessors, too, had also been makers of pottery; and the sherds I have gathered from the oldest middings there are absolutely identi- cal except in quality of clay with those of the Atlantic and the great lake shores. It may be quite possible, then, in view of all this, that the pot- ter's art, instead of belonging to a late period in man's development — at least here in America — belonged to one of the earliest periods of his occupancy of the sea-shore and lake lands. That in some regions like those of the East, where the forests were dense and the lakes numerous, inviting to comparative permanency of abode, this art may have been handed down as an unbroken heritage even in the interior. 234 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. But that in other regions the art may have been disused and forgotten, rediscovered and forgotten again, or with changing conditions redis- covered in other ways, alTecting total changes in its product of types as well as in the degree of perfection to which it was carried, as was the case with the basket-pottery makers of the great Southwest. In conclusion 1 may say that the statement ventured by me some years ago on the strength of quite other evidences may now, with added force, be repeated; namely, that the use of pottery was in all probability discovered independently in numerous diverse localities, more often, indeed, developed independently by severed tribes, than as a borrowed art; the very identity, almost universally, of at least shore- land varieties of earthenware, so suggestive at first of a common source for it all, proving rather the reverse; that is, that its possession of so many characteristics in common resulted from the action of a uniform and somewhat universally prevailing law, born of the condi- tions of shore-land environment and developed therefrom in one way and another. As 1 have stated once before in the course of these pages, many distinctive inland types of pottery have been experimentally studied by me, many and in some cases all details of process by which they were made having thus been exhaustively worked out, and many of the causes originating these distinctive types having been thereby also apprehended. In a far more thorough manner the evolution of art involved in the development of these types, and, indeed, distinguishing them fully as much as evidences of varied manipulation, have been ex- haustively and admirably worked out and set forth by my friend and confrere. Prof. William H. Holmes, in Reports of the Bureau of Eth- nology. It therefore remains only for me to state that utilitarian pro- cesses growing out of suggestive experiences in the course of the earlier developments 1 have traced, survivals of other kinds, the mythic and animistic conception of vessels and their functions common to prim- itive people, and a variety of other influences have affected the development of their varieties of fictile products fully as much as original conditions of production; but one of the surest ways of understanding even these more subtle influences is through experi- ments with original materials with one's own hands, limited in ac- tion to the appliances of the original local stone age conditions in each given case, and in almost blind submission to their influences and promptings. FOLK-LORE. 235 FOLK-LORE. RITUAL REGARDED AS THE DRAMATIZATION OF MYTH. BY WILLIAM WELLS NEWELL, THERE seem to be good reasons why, in the study of any parti- cular religion, its ritual should be first considered. An act is in itself a more definite thing than a tale. In the worship the cel- ebrant represents, not only his contemporaries, but also probably his predecessors; in the narrative he may represent only himself. The rite is often performed merely as a custom, its original motives being no longer remembered; while the reasons assigned for the performance in such cases are generally not those which brought the ceremony into existence. Many myths are invented simply as explanations of the ritual acts; to use the technical expression, they are etiological. A consideration of these conditions has of late led some writers to minimize the value of mythology, considered as a key to the signi- ficance of the religion with which it is connected. Thus in his excel- lent work on "The Religion of the Semites" (Edinburgh, 1889) W. Robertson Smith observes: " In all the antique religions, mythology takes the place of dogma, that is, the sacred lore of priests and people, so far as it does not consist of mere rules for the performance of religious acts, assumes the form of stories about the gods; and these stories afford the only explanation that is offered of the pre- cepts of religion and the prescribed rules of ritual. But, strictly speaking, this mythology was no essential part of ancient religion, for it had no sacred sanc- tion and no binding force on the worshipers .... This being so, it follows that mythology ought not to take the prominent place that is often assigned to it in the scientific study of ancient faiths. So far as myths consist of explana- tions of ritual, their value is altogether secondary, and it may be affirmed with confidence that in almost every case the myth was derived from the ritual, and not the ritual from the myth; for the ritual was fixed and the myth was variable, the ritual was obligatory and faith in the myth was at the discretion of the wor- shiper .... The conclusion is that in the study of ancient religions we must begin, not with myth, but with ritual and traditional usage." * While entirely admitting the correctness of the principle that it is with the worship that the study of religions must begin, it appears * Lectures on the Religion of the Semites, First Series, Edinburgh, 1889, pp. 19, 20. 237 238 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. to me that the propositions cited contain only part of the truth, and, indeed, exhibit fundamental errors, calculated to interfere with the proper comprehension of the theory of religions. I desire to indicate considerations which incline me to regard myth and ritual as two cor- related elements of worship, equally ancient and equally important. A religion is understood only when we become acquainted both with the rites and with the mythic interpretation; in my judgment, disre- gard of the latter is as fatal as neglect of the former. In the first place, it is to be remarked that these two constituents of ethnic religion cannot be so easily separated as the author cited ap- pears to assume, and that for a very simple reason: namely, that the myth is an essential part of the ritual. It may be affirmed with probability that in all gentile or social ceremonies the myth enters into the celebration, and that in one or other of several distinct ways. First, as part of the ceremonial, the legend may be recited in its full prose form, or chanted as an epos. I have the authority of Dr. J. Walter Fewkes for the assertion that in the secret ceremonies of the Moki snake-dance the priest, in the character of " The Ancient of the Six " (principal directions, /. e. , as the representative of the under- world, the source of knowledge), relates the legend of the ancestors of the snake gens, on which the whole rite depends. In the creation myth of the Zunis, according to Mr. F. H. Gushing, the narrative is also recited, the repetition occupying thirty-six hours. Secondly, the myth may be sung and danced in lyric or ballad form. Although no religious dance songs of a narrative character have come down to us from Greek and Roman antiquity, their ex- istence, and in great number, can hardly be doubted. Of Indian ballads, an Osage example is furnished by J. Owen Dorsey.* Thirdly, the narrative, when not expressly mentioned, may be presupposed, and referred to in sacred hymns, often of so mystical a character as to be incomprehehsible to any person unacquainted with the myth. A striking example is the series of Navajo songs given by Dr. Washington Matthews in his account of the Mountain Ghant. Dr. Matthews is my authority for the statement that the creation legend of this tribe, though apparently not the object of a particular relig- ious treatment in ceremonial, is constantly alluded to and supposed to be known. It is scarcely worth while, in the narrow limits of this * Sixth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnologjy, Washington, 1888, p. 381. RITUAL REGARDED AS A DRAMATIZATION OF MYTH. 239 paper, to enlarge upon this use of mythology; perhaps it may be at!irmed that ethnic hymnology and psalmody abound in examples, as referring to histories the universal comprehension of which i» tacitly assumed. Not only, however (and this is my special theme), is legend the basis of ritual speech and song, but also of ritual costume and gest- ure. It would appear that into many or all social religious rites there enters an element of dramatic representation. The dance or the feast does not consist of a series of arbitrary ceremonies; on the contrary, it is, in some part, a presentation of a sacred history. This principle would seem to make part of all religious ritual, from that of the very lowest existing races to that of the most civilized communities. If it can be shown that legend, in worships called " primi- tive," has so important a place, it cannot be true that myth was of secondary importance in ancient religions. It cannot be that myth- ology had no sacred sanction, or that the performance of the rite was, all in all, without reference to the meaning of the rite. On the contrary, in order to obtain a comprehension of any cere- mony whatever, it must, in all ages, have been absolutely essential to understand the story on which the ceremony is supposed to depend; and where such story has not been recorded, or imperfectly recorded, then the true character of the rite is not known, or is imperfectly known. That this is the case in regard to the worships of civilized coun- tries, at the present day, is not disputed. Suppose an observer, ac- quainted with no more than met the eye, to attempt a description of high mass. How could he understand, from the splendid and highly conventional ritual, that the essence of the whole is the commemora- tion of the supper in the house of Simon, as well as the repetition of the Passion? The history is essential to the comprehension of the rite, even though the history does not complete the explanation. Again, if from the supreme function of Christianity we turn to the older rite, of which the Paschal supper is avowedly the modifica- tion, what sort of a conception of the Jewish Passover, in its ancient or modern performance, should we obtain from an observer acquainted with the order of the actions, but unable to communicate the history of which the ceremony is understood to be the commemoration? It would seem that the true relation is not correctly stated by the writer who has been quoted. It is not a dogma, but a narrative, 240 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. on which the ritual of Christianity, as well as of Judaism, is depend- ent. Mythology in ancient religions does not take the place of dogma in modern faiths; it takes the place of historical narrative in the ad- vanced religions. But, as ancient myths were also presumed to be history, this distinction vanishes. It is further to be considered that in gentile ceremonial some part of every festival is of true historic import. Not only are the ritual actions assumed to dramatize actual events, but in many ways they do represent such events. Observations on North American aboriginal religions justify the following generalizations which will probably be accepted by all workers in this field: 1. Tribal, gentile or social religious festivals or "dances" de- pend, in part, on myths, which are dramatized in the rites. The presentation is usually of a conventional character, rather than theat- rical, so that the symbolism is apparent only to the initiated. 2. The rites are performed by secret societies, possessing initia- tions in different degrees; of the ritual, some portions are intended to be public, while others are wrapt in secrecy; they constitute, that is to say, mysteries. The manner of the celebration, as well as the signifi- cance of the rites, is only comprehended by the initiated persons, 3. The dance is performed by masked or costumed personages, who enact the part of the divine beings whose history is recounted in the myths. To this third principle of American aboriginal worship an import- ant addition is to be made, which, if accepted, will be found to cast a vivid light on the theory of religious observances. There seem to be good reasons for believing that the actor was originally considered to be identical with the being represented; in other words, that the god in his own person appeared on the stage and performed his own history in dramatic representation. On the one hand this involved priestcraft; spectators were made to suppose that the personages whom they saw, and whose disguise was assumed in secret, were none other than the veritable deities. On the other hand, the belief was not wholly deception; the priest or medicine man supposed himself, in assuming the dress, to assume also the character, to be under divine possession, to abdicate his own personality, and to present in his thoughts and actions the god whom he represented. If there were here time to discuss so vast a subject, it might be RITUAL REGARDED AS A DRAMATIZATION OF MYTH. 241 argued that such assumption of foreign personality belongs to the original idea of religious masks. It might be suggested that the old- est of the arts is the 'sacred drama, in which the actors are divine, and repeat their history before an audience consisting both of gods and men. It might be made likely that after the progress of retlection had forbidden the imagination to be content with the solemn concep- tion of immediate visible contact with personal deities, plastic art was introduced, the god, now regarded as distinct from the priestly cel- ebrant, being supposed to animate the image which constituted his medium of representation. But long after such separation had taken place, and into the historic period of civilized races, the theory of the visible presence continued to survive. The detailed illustration, by examples taken from American wor- ships, of the principles above set forth is the less necessary because the papers which will be read at this meeting, as well as all the elabo- rate and interesting researches made during the last few years in the field of American mythology, constitute such illustration. To argue that the generalizations set forth apply also to all the so-called primitive faiths of other continents, would be to attempt a task for which materials do not yet exist. It may only be affirmed that what is known of Australian or African rituals is no way incon- sistent with the supposition that these conditions do represent the the- ory of the religious usage of uncultured races in general.* It will be enough to suggest, for the sake of urging and directing investigation, that an original feature of early worship is the mystery or sacred dramatic representation; that in such rites the worshipers consider themselves as visited by their divine relatives, who perform before their eyes a representation of the presumed sacred history which con- stitutes the testimony of the divine existence, and the repetition of which is assumed to be a condition of the divine aid. * J. M. Orpen, " A Glimpse into the Mythology of the Maiuti Bushmen," Cape Monthly Magazine, July, 1874. In answer to questions abcnit creation myths, Orpen was told: "Only the initiated men of the dance know about these things." C. Lumholtz describes festival dances of the natives on the Her- bert River, North Queensland. These dances included dressing in a secret cham- ber, disguise hy false hair and beards, painting, and elaborate pantomime; they lasted six weeks, being performed at night, in the time of tiie full moon, and were accomjianied by fasting. Lumholtz, who appears to have had no concep- tion of the true character of these rites, could only learn that they were con- nected with "the devil." Among Cannibals, London, 1889, p. 239. 242 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. To these suggestions a few words may be added with regard to the place held by myth in the great religions of antiquity. If, for example, we consider the legend of Osiris, as it appears to have been current in Egypt from very early times, we should find it run, with innumerable variations, somewhat as follows: Osiris, god and king of Upper and Lower Egypt, born in Thebes, is worsted and torn to pieces by his brother Set, dwelling in the Northeastern des- erts. Isis, sister and wife of Osiris, lamenting his fate, seeks him with lamentations, gathers up the fragments of his body, and inters them at Abydos, thus rendering herself the pattern of pious devotion to the dead. She bears a child, and, her babe being threatened by the jealousy of Set, flies from Lybia to Egypt. Reaching the marshes of the Nile, in the neighborhood of Chemnis, she hides among the rushes the babe, who is discovered and nursed by the goddess Buto. The young Horus is crowned by the gods, departs on an expedition against the destroyer of his father, and in his turn overcomes and rends the slayer. The myth, it will be observed, is a version of a story be- longing to a class of folk tales which relate the adventures of the son of a slain prince, and describe in what manner the heir is saved from the pursuit of his enemies and taken to a foreign land, from which he at last returns to avenge his father and assume the crown. Osiris, in ancient texts, is variously represented as the moon or sun, the under- world or the Nile, as a bull or ram, as a sacred plant or the growing corn. But whether an Egyptian considered him as incarnating one or other of these natural objects, no religious person doubted that his history was a real history, that it had occurred in the ancient time, and that it furnished the key to the duty of man and the meaning of life. As to the antiquity of the myth, it must be considered as implied in the Egyptian ritual for the dead, in which the de- ceased is represented under the name of Osiris, while Isis and Nepthys appear as mourners. It hardly seems necessary to argue that this method of representation implies the greater age of the mythology; it would never have occurred to any Egyptian to consider Osiris as a type of humanity, unless a legend of his death and burial had gener- ally been known; Isis would not have been taken for the model of a mourner, unless her lamentation for her brother had been familiar; the mystical representation of every funeral as a divine miracle play RITUAL REGARDED AS A DRAMATIZATION OF MYTH. 243 could not have come into vogue, unless the miracle play itself, taken as literal repetition of history, had been regularly performed. It is therefore evident that before the construction of the earliest pyramids there must have existed in Egypt a religious drama, in which a story of Osiris was acted out in song, dance and masked procession. Concerning the rites of the chief festival of this city, performed at the season of the autumn sowing, Plutarch gives some particulars. An image of a cow, gilt and clothed in a black stole, was displayed during a term of four days, in order to commemorate the lamentation of Isis and her search for the lost body of her husband. On the fifth day of the feast, sacristans and priests carried to the sea, as he says, a wooden chest containing a golden ark, into which was poured drink- ing-water, while a shout was raised that Osiris had been discovered; then, out of fertile soil mixed with the water, an image was formed, of a luniform character, which was dressed and ornamented. According to the same author, the vernal festival celebrated the birth and history of Horus, whose victory over Set or Typhon was represented by hewing in pieces a rope. In the same symbolic spirit the cakes manufactured at the time of the feast represented the de- feated Set under the image of a bound ass, or indicated the victory of the young Horus by the figure of a falcon striking a hippopotamus.* These rites, belonging to a period relatively late, may have been affected by philosophic conceptions; but there is no reason to doubt that similar symbolism would have been found in the ritual of an earlier period. Under t^ese circumstances I am quite at a loss to un- derstand in what sense it can be affirmed that the myth was no essen- tial part of the religion. It appears to me that a directly opposite conclusion is indicated. The legends on which so solemn a worship depended certainly did not lack a sacred sanction. Rather each priest and confraternity had an independent version of the history, regarded as the only correct account, and kept with asecrecy proportionate to its assumed consequence. This particular example is only one case. The worship of Osi- ris has come into great prominence, and the monuments give fuller accounts of the story and the rites than is the case in other ancient worships; but these rites were by no means singular in respect of their character as mysteries. On the contrary, in all countries of the an- cient world every district, every temple had its own mysteries or * Tie hide et Osiride, 19, 30, 39, 50, 52. 244 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. sacred dramas, depending on holy legends, jealously kept secret, and presented in testival rites performed by secret societies, by masked or costumed actors. These legends, in consequence of this sanctity, have either not been recorded at all, or preserved only in literary re- constructions, while of Greek or Roman dramatic ceremonial no ac- curate account has come down. In what I have said of Egyptian worship 1 do not mean to assert that the Osirian myth was in all respects older than the accompanying ceremonies. On the contrary, it is very likely that some part of the rites, devised for practical purposes, preceded the myth, which may thus have been explanatory or etiological. This possible early ritual, however, would not have been Osirian religion, as it exists in the monuments; to understand this religion, the story is as essential as the usage. Once more, these hypothetical primitive ceremonies, to judge by analogy, would have had their own mythology, and this would have entered into the representation; the assumption of an original pre-mythic period is unsupported by any observations; there is no reason to suppose that any such stage existed, or that religion, since the birth of religion, has not always consisted of customs accom- panied by myths, and of rites symbolizing stories. These histories, and the ceremonial usages with which they are connected, act and re- act in such manner that it cannot be said that either element is the older; on the contrary, it may always be affirmed with equal truth that myth depends on custom, and that custom is influenced by myth, the two inseparable divisions of worship being equally ancient and equally important. If there is any correctness in these views, it will follow that a re- ligion is not thoroughly comprehended unless both its ritual and its mythology are known. In the case of ancient religions that knowledge seldom exists. Information, therefore, respecting early Hellenic or Italian religion must be sought from the folk-lore of races which remain in corresponding conditions of culture to those which may be supposed to have prevailed in the beginnings of Hellenic or Italian society. In the formation of such a record of existing ceremonies, it must be considered that the observation of myth is as important as that of ritual. The attempt to effect a separation between these in dissoluble parts of worship, to indicate one as primaryand the other as secondary, to disregard the intellectual part of religion in com- parison with its element of custom, can have no other result than that of confusion and misconception. RITUAL REGARDED AS A DRAMATIZATION OF MYTH. 245 If the conclusions indicated, and which have been set forth chiefly in order to serve as themes for discussion, shall be accepted as of universal application, it will follow that most of the conceptions which have been favored as constituting a proper basis for the classification of religions will be found inadequate, and that the principle of historical continuity will apply to a much fuller extent' than has hitherto been assumed. SOME ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE CONNECTION BETWEEN MYTH AND CEREMONY. BY WASHINGTON MATTHEWS. AMONG the Navajo Indians, as perhaps among all other peo- ples, rites are connected with myths or with tales which may not be all mythical. This much we can safely aver; but we cannot with equal confidence declare that all rites have originated in myths, or at least in the myths with which we now find them con- nected. Neither can we affirm that the myth has always preceded the associated ceremony. In some cases a Navajo rite has only one myth pertaining to it. In other cases it has many myths. The relation of the myth to the ceremony is variable. Sometimes it explains nearly everything in the ceremony and gives an account of all the important acts from beginning to end, in the order in which they now occur; at other times it describes the work in a less systematic manner and leaves you to infer that the orderly arrangement may be the result of an afterthought. Some of the myths seem to tell only of the way in which rites, already established with other tribes were introduced among the Na- vajos. The rite-myth never explains all the symbolism of the rite, al- though it may account for all the important acts. A primitive and underlying symbolism, which probably existed previous to the estab- lishment of the rite, remains unexplained by the myth, as though its existence were taken as a matter of course, and required no explana- tion. Some explanation of this foundation symbolism may be found in the creation and migration myth or in other early legends of the tribe; but something remains unexplained even by these. The myths which account for the origin or introduction of rites have each a central figure or hero who may be called the prophet of the rites. In one case there are twin prophets. He leaves his people ; wanders among foreign tribes and among the gods, or among divine beings only; learns the rites; returns to his people; communicates his knowledge to one or more disciples, and, having performed his mis- sion, disappears mysteriously. But he does not disappear through 246 CONNECTION BEEWEEN MYTH AND CEREMONY. 247 the portals of death or to the eternal home of ordinary men in the lower world. He is apotheosized. His everlasting home is at least above the surface of the ground if not in the heavens. After his de- parture he may still manifest himself to the faithful in the form of some natural phenomenon. In connection with the adventures of this hero, an account of the rites should properly be given; but this is a part of the story which is often omitted. 1 have obtained rite-myths from Indians both with and without the ceremonial part. I shall brietly state the reasons for this omission. The portion of the myth relating the adventures may be told to any one and may be easily understood and remembered by any one; hence many people who are not priests of the rite may be found who know the narrative portion of the myth only, and are ready to tell it. The ritual or esoteric portion of the myth is usually known only to a priest of the rite, who is rarely inclined to part with this knowledge. Such lore interests only the priest. If a layman, unacquainted with all the work of the rite, should hear the ritual por- tion of the myth, he would be apt to forget it, having little knowledge of the rite to assist his memory. I have seen in print rite-myths of other tribes in which descriptions of ceremony were obviously omitted. Probably the most important as well as the most ancient Navajo ceremony now in existence is that of the kledji qacal, or night chant. This rite is explained by two principal myths, each of which describes different elements in the long and intricate ceremonial, whose perform- ance occupies nine nights and portions of ten days. The prophet of the first myth — that of the songs and public dances — was a singular youth who early evinced the gift of second- sight and the possession of magical powers. He seemed to be one favored of the gods and in their confidence. Once, while out hunt- ing, he was seized by certain gods, the Gaaskii — who are represented in Navajo mythology as assuming the form of the mountain sheep — and borne off to a home of the gods in certain cliff-houses in a canon north of the San Juan River, in what is now the State of Colorado. Here he made the acquaintance of the various gods who are now per- sonated in the dances and other acts of the night chant, and he be- held scenes which are to this day depicted in the great dry paintings of this ceremony. He heard, too, numerous sacred songs of the rites and learned them by heart to repeat them to his disciples on his return to his home. While the myth describes the acts of these gods, it does not describe the gods themselves. They seem to have been well- 248 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. known characters before the prophet went on his journey, and we must depend on separate accounts from the hps of learned shamans in order to discover the appearance and attributes of these mysterious beings. But this prophet was not a sick man. He was not treated by the gods for disease. If we would learn how the ceremonies of the night chant may be applied to the cure of disease we must seek the explanation in the second myth. The prophets of this second myth were characters not unknown to the myth-makers of the Old World. One was crippled, the other was blind. The blind child bore the seeing cripple on his back, and thus they wandered through the land. This unfortunate pair were the fruit of a clandestine alliance between a Navajo woman and one of the gods of the Canon de Chelly. Their starving relations, on their mother's side, abandoned them in the wilderness to die. They found their way after many vicissitudes to the Canon de Chelly, where, through the intercession of their father, who long failed to acknowledge them, they were cured of their ailments by means of ceremonies which are described minutely in the myth, and which are practiced to this day. But there are now, at times, variations which the myth does not describe, made in the ceremony. Out of hundreds of instances in which the specific rules of the ceremony are accounted for by incidents in the myth, I select one for illustration: The cripple and the blind boy were to be treated for their infirmities by means of a hot-air bath in a small lodge, such as the Navajos employ now, prepared for the purpose with many ritual ob- servances. The invalids were charged to say not a word while in the sudatory. When they had been seated there awhile and were per- spiring freely, the blind child became conscious that he saw a streak of light stealing in under the corner of the blanket which hung over the opening of the lodge. Forgetting, in his delight, the injunction of the gods, he cried out: "Oh, brother! 1 can see." At the same moment his crippled brother, beginning to experience the benefit of the bath, shouted aloud: "Oh, brother! I can move my limbs." In an instant the sweat-house, the hot stones, the carpet of leaves, all vanished, and the children, still uncured, were left sitting on the bare ground under the open sky. It was with much difficulty that the gods could be persuaded to build another sudatory and repeat the cere- monies. In consequence of the sad experience of these twins, the strictest silence is, to-day, enjoined on the occupant of the sacted sudatory. CONNECTION BETWEEN MYTH AND CEREMONY. 249 Both of these myths refer the orighi of the ceremonies to people dwelling in clirt-houses. The White House and other buildings still standing in a ruined condition in the Canon de Chelly are specitlcally mentioned in the second myth. I think, it not improbable that these rites may have been derived from cliff-dwellers, who still occupied the land when the first small vagrant bands of Tinne penetrated to the mountains of New Mexico and Arizona. True, the myth speaks of these clitf -dwellers as gods; but it is not ditficult to believe that the rude Athabaskan wanderers, in the days when they subsisted on small mammals, such as prairie dogs, and on the seeds of wild plants (as their legends relate), may have regarded the prosperous agricultural clilT-dwellers as gods. Or it may be that the myth originally referred only to the masked characters in the clitf-dwellers' rites as gods. The Navajos say now that when one of their own number wears the mask of a god and personates a god, he is, for the time being, act- ually that god. A prayer to a masquerading representative of divinity is a prayer to a god. But besides these two main myths, there are many more myths belonging to the night chant. The rite contains several groups of songs, and each of these groups has its myth accounting for its origin. Twenty-one divine characters are represented in the rite either by song, by masquerade, or by picture, and each of these characters has its own appropriate myth or myths. In the myth of the mountain chant,* which 1 have already puD- lished, it is related that a ceremony of somewhat similar character existed prior to the establishment of the mountain chant, and that the rite was only enriched and improved by the prophet. This prophet, according to the story, was taken captive by the Ute Indians. In his escape from captivity he suffered much. His limbs became sore and swollen. Certain mountain gods, who were friendly to the Navajos, and whose dwellings he visited while wandering in his flight through the Carrizo and Tuincha Mountains, took pity on the fugitive, taught him the secrets of their sacrifices and showed him how their aid might be sought. The sacrifices and prayers of this rite are directed, with a poetic consistency and completeness, to the natural phenomena which occur in, and the animals which inhabit, the high mountains. The myth does not describe the acts of the rite in their consecutive order; * The Mountain ChanI: A Navajo Ceremony. Fifth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology. Washington, 1888. 250 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. but there is scarcely any act which is not alluded to in the course of the story. A suspicion may be aroused in the mind of the hearer, who accepts this by no means ancient tale as containing something of the truth, that the prophet may have obtained some suggestions of these rites from the Ute Indians while he was captive among them. The most ingenious and poetic rite-myth which I have obtained is that of the. yoi-qacal, or chant of beads. This rite is also known as the eagle medicine. It at least claims for itself a totally superhuman origin. The prophet was a veritable Navajo Lazarus. He was very poor, as the Navajos in their legends represent themselves to have been in the ancient days. Unlike other people, the Navajos have no golden age in the past— the present is the happiest period in their his- tory. This pauper lived near one of the ancient pueblos, now in ruins, in the Chaco Caiion, and subsisted on the refuse of pueblo feasts. One day the pueblo people found on the face of a high cliff, in a small cave, an eagle's nest, which could only be reached by low- ering a man with a rope over the edge of the precipice. All feared to undertake the task of descending the clitT; so they concluded to bribe the starving Navajo, with promises of abundant food for the rest of his life, to make the dangerous descent. He accepted the otTer; but when he was lowered to the mouth of the cave the wind god whis- pered in his ear and told him that if he spared the eaglets he would meet with a great reward, while, if he stole them and delivered them to the people of the Chaco, the latter would soon forget their prom- ises and leave him to starve as before. Hearing this, he disengaged himself from the rope and crept into the cave. In vain did the people of the pueblo plead with him and call him endearing names and re- new all their promises; he heeded them not, and after a while they abandoned their elTorts and went home. Later the grateful eagles (who are represented as men dressed in the feathered robes of eagles) took him out of the cave and flew with him upwards. They bore him through the sky-hole and up to the pueblo of the eagle-people above the sky. Here the prophet performed other valuable services for the eagle-people, and in return for his good deeds he was initiated into the ceremonies of the eagles. A careful examination of the rites and rite-myths of the Navajos seems to reveal that some of them are not of very ancient origin, or at least have not been long known to the tribe, and we possess tradi- tional evidence that, while new rites are being introduced, old rites are being abandoned. There are reasons for believing that suggestions CONNECTION BETWEEN MYTH AND CEREMONY. 25l for rites or parts of rites have been obtained from other tribes; but, if this is the case, such rites have been modified to conform to the fun- damental rules of Navajo symbolism before being adopted. Some rites, as in one example given, appear to be but modifications of older ceremonies. The prophet of the new did not "come to destroy, but to fulfill." In the histories of other Indian tribes we find many instances of the introduction of new ceremonies in recent times. \ THE FALL OF HOCHELAGA. t/1 Study of Popular Tiadiiion. BY HORATIO HALE. WHEN, in the early autumn of 1535, the intrepid explorer Jacques Cartier, with his little flotilla, recalling in number and dimensions the caravels of Columbus, made his doubt- ful and hazardous way up the great stream which his native guides knew as the River of Hochelaga, but v/hich he renamed the St. Lawrence, he found the lands through which he passed occupied by tribes belonging to two distinct ethnic groups. These have been com- monly known as the Algonkin (or Algonquin) and the Huron-Iroquois families. The latest scientific nomenclature makes them the Algon- quian and Iroquoian stocks. But, for the purpose of the present paper, it seems advisable to retain the older designations. From his guides, who were two Indians of the Huron-Iroquois race that had accompanied him to France from an earlier voyage to the St. Lawrence Gulf, he learned that the regions along the river, on both sides, from its mouth as far inland apparently as their knowl- edge extended, belonged, according to the native notions, to three separate provinces or "lands" (ferres). Nearest the Gulf was the land of Saguenay, deriving its name from the great tributary stream which unites with the St. Lawrence about a hundred miles below Quebec. This territory was occupied, then as subsequently, by scat- tered bands of the Algonkin stock. Next came the province of •' Canada" proper, that is to say, the land of the "Town," for such is the well-known meaning of Canada in the Iroquoian language and all the allied idioms. This town was Stadacone, a native village which stood near the site of what is now Quebec. It was the capital or chief abode of Donnacona, the Great Lord { la "Bihhothdqiie Natiottale, Paris, 1858, p. 110 and following. Comp. Maspero, T^ituel du Sacrifice Fundraire, p. 18. 308 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. gistus?" And he answers: " Yes, the statues, O Asklepios. See, what little faith thou hast. The statues animated, full of sentiment and inspiration; who do so many and such great things; the prophetic statues, who predict the future through dreams and all sorts of other means; who strike us down with disease, or cure our sufferings according to our merits." * In the anthropomorphism of such a faith the gods, once brought down upon earth, were only superior men; to them were attributed the same feelings, the same needs, that must be catered to in the same way. Offerings were made to these animated statues; they were puri- fied, dressed, undressed and fed according to, apparently, very much the same ritual as that observed with regard to the dead. Hermes continues: t Terrestrial gods " are accessible to wrath because they are formed and composed by men outside of nature. . . . Their quality consists in divine virtue that naturally exists in herbs, stones, aromatic substances; that is why they like frequent sacri- fices, hymns and praise, sweet music recalling celestial harmony; and that remembrance of heaven— conform to their celestial nature- attracts them and retains them in the idols, and causes them to subject themselves to a prolonged sojourn among men." As may be seen, in all this there entered little allegory: it was idolatry in the narrowest sense of the word. In the primitive belief that, by means of certain human acts per- formed with a certain intention, the life of an individual or that of a divinity could be compelled to enter a certain medium, through which it might be subjected to human control, we have the explana- tion of the close relation which the practices and legends of the ancients imply as having existed in their minds between images and the personality of the being represented. By keeping this in view, a long series of legends, and of, to us, seemingly senseless folk-lore, receives a logical explanation: from the waxen serpent made in the image of the evil serpent Apap and inscribed with his name, which the Egyptians burned three times a day in order to avert the pos- sibility of a storm, i to the curious Arab legend preserved by Macoudi, * Hermes Trisme'giste, Ed. Menant, p. 146. f Loc. cit., p. 169. X P\eyte, Recneil de Travaux, etc., \U., 62-63. The same idea runs beneath many other liturgical acts of the Egyptians. For instance, in order to enable the defunct to overcome his antagonists in the other world, a waxen image AN ANCIENT EGYPTIAN RITE. 309 and according to which Alexander the Great obtained control over the sea monsters, who daily interfered with the building of Alexandria, by having their portraits taken, after which they disappeared and allowed the work to proceed — from the poetic legend of Pyonialion aftd Galathea to the part played in ancient religious mysteries by the dough images of the gods, which were carefully manufactured according to stated rules, and in which, no doubt, the real presence of the deity was thought to dwell. In the Osirian mysteries these dough images were used to represent the body of the dead god; * and it is probable that in the Kawanim which, according to Jeremiah, t the women of Jerusalem made in honor of the queen of Heaven, we have a tradition the origin of which is in a similar way connected with the Adonis mysteries. The custom is widespread; it is found upon the American con- tinent and is met with among the Greeks and other populations of Europe, in whose folk-lore it still survives in a modified form. There are in existence some curious Egyptian documents known as the Turin, Lee and Rollin papyri, which date about the twelfth century B.C., and which supplement each other in furnishing the details of certain judiciary proceedings instituted against some digni- taries and members of the household of Rameses III., who were accused of having conspired against the life of the Pharaoh. In the evidence it appears that one of the conspirators, an officer by the name of Pen-baiben, having, through bribery, possessed him- self of a book of magic lore belonging to the royal library, had, with the aid of the potent spells therein contained, and through the medium of small waxen images, obtained full control over the guards of the royal palace with evil designs upon the king. For these nefarious practices he and his accomplices were sentenced to death. Strangely enough, precisely similar proceedings were instituted in France in l300 against Guichard, Bishop of Troies, who was prosecuted for having caused the death of Jeanne de Navarre, the queen of Philip IV. It was claimed that at his instigation, and with the assistance of a hermit and a witch, a waxen image had been bearinjj inscribed upon its left arm the name of Apap, the type of evil, was made according to a specific receipt, cut into four pieces and burned. See Deveria, Catal. des Manuscripts Egjipliens dii Louvre, 1881, VII., 3; No. 5353. * Victor Loret, Feles d'Osiris au Mois de Choiak. Rec. de Tr., III. vol., 'pp. 43-57. f VII. 18; and XIV. 19. 310 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. made and baptized in due form with a god-father and a god-mother, who called it Jeanne; after which, pins having been stuck in the region of the heart of this image, the queen shortly expired.* This is by no means the only instance where the magic spell, termed "envoultement," is known to have played a gruesome part in modern history. The most notable instance, however, occurred in 1574, when the King of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV. of France, and his brother, the Due d'Alencon, became implicated m a con- spiracy, as a result of which men of high rank and standing at the court of Charles IX. were imprisoned, racked or sent to the scatfold. The Duke's friend, M. de la Mole, was put to the torture v/ith a view to extracting from him information concerning an attempt made by the conspirators upon the life of the French king, through the means of an Italian necromancer called Ruggieri, the methods used being a waxen image of the king into which a pin was stuck in the region of the heart, to the great detriment of the monarch, then already attacked by the singular disease of which he soon afterwards died.t This is, I think, interesting as illustrating the persistency of such practices and their revival when the intellectual conditions of a people favor their renewed development; but it also recalls the fact that, although the ancient faith of Egypt received its death-blow at the hands of Theodosius in 381 A.D,, its spirit survived long after that date. We have already found its naturalism lurking at the basis of the Hermetic books, which were held in high authority by the Christian doctors, who turned to them when, in their polemics against the champions of ancient philosophy, they became anxious to tlnd a support for their innovations in the hoary wisdom of antiquity. In the year 400 A.D. the Bishop of Kyrene, Synesios, speaks of the means used by the Egyptians to compel the gods to do their bidding by muttering certain words. J The tombs of Beni-Hassan were in- habited until quite late by Christian Copts, who used one of them as a school-room, and left there their grafitti.§ Sais, one of the great religious centers of pagan Egypt, was erected into a Christian bishopric in the third century; it furnished at least one saint and a long line of prelates, among whom some were distinguished lights of * Henri Martin, Hre. de France, Vol. IV., p. 50S. f Henri Martin, loc. cit., Vol. XV., p. 377. :]: Wiedeman, Die Religion der alien /Egj'pter, p. 145; Munster, l89l. §Dr. Graves, Proc. Royal Soe. of Antiq. of Ireland, 1891, p. 346. AN ANCIENT EGYPTIAN RITE. 3ll the church. It retained its importance as a bishopric until at least the Xlth c^tury.* Makrisy, 1360-1442, who mentions it several times, states that its territory included 73 towns without counting its villages. t Many ancient Egyptian temples were used by the early Christians, who established their churches therein; and the Bishop of Limerick, Dr. Graves, has pointed out that Egyptian monks had left traces of their influence upon the early antiquities of Ireland. i I believe that when the whole subject has received the general atten- tion which it deserves, it will be found that not only many of the ancient symbols and religious usages of Egypt found their way into Europe through the African church; but that much of its magico- scientitlc lore indirectly penetrated there afterwards with the close intercourse which the Mohammedan conquest, the crusades and the establishment of Western principalities in the east brought about. We must not forget that the very name of the black art — alchemy— points to such an origin. However this may be, the whole order of such practices as imply a belief in the possibility of controlling a spirit, or have for object the bringing down of the real presence of a divine life or of a human personality into a manufactured object, through which control may be obtained over the life thus become incarnate, may be regarded in the light of secondary or tertiary formations at the basis of which lies the phase of human thought whose origin must be sought in a survival of primary fetichism.§ And this, as we have seen, we find, as it were, crystallized in the archaic Egyptian rite which we have just been considering. * Mallet, Culie de Neit h Sais, p. 65. •f Quatremere, {Memoire Geog. et Hist, sur VEgypte, I., 291. ^Dr. Graves, Proc. of the T^ojal Soc. of Aniiq. of Ireland, t89l, p. 346. § Many non-civilized people object to allowing their portraits to be taken, or even to telling their names, for fear of a certain occult power being obtained by this means. See Reville, Revue de VHistoire des Religions, Vol. VI., p. 94. A CHAPTER OF ZUNI MYTHOLOGY. BY MATILDA C. STEVENSON. AT a time when all nations are agitated by the celebration of the discovery of a new world by Columbus, it seems peculi- arly appropriate to study the character of the people occupy- ing this continent upon his landing. To those interested in the humanities this glorious picture of discovery is marred with a touch of pathos that a race spreading in such numbers over our territory, a race which could never be subjugated into slavery, has, during these four hundred years, been driven before the progress of civil- ization, not only from their homes and hunting-grounds, but from the very presence of their gods. Those who know that with these peoples almost every act of life assumes a religious character, and that every mountain of their land, every river, every spring is directly associated with their gods, must feel sympathy for them and wonder at the magnanimity they have shown their white oppressors. The American race was divided into many tribes, speaking many languages and many dialects, and there are still many such divisions, but numbers of tribes in our territory have become amalgamated by coming into closer proximity as they were driven before the white race, while other tribes have passed away. A number of tribes of our Southwest are termed pueblo Indians, living in houses built of stone and adobe. Explorers of the past decade have enlightened the world with their discoveries of pre-Columbian ruins distributed over portions of Colorado, Utah and the entire area of New Mexico and Arizona. These ruins have been classified into five groups: the valley, cliff, cave, cavate and mesa ruins. The valley or plain ruins, once the homes of agricultural peoples, cover New Mexico and Arizona. Here they lived until, driven by a powerful foe from their happy homes along the water-courses and by the springs, they sought refuge in cliffs and caves of canyon walls. Wherever in that arid land a fountain of water is to be found there stands a pueblo or the ruin of a pueblo. This mystic land reveals to the archaeologist a touching tale; the niches in the canyon walls are filled with the fame of the cliff-dwellers, and we rebuild in imagination the worshiping-places 312 A CHAPTER OF ZUNI MYTHOLOGY. 3l3 and homes whose ruhis remain the mute yet eloquent witnesses of a people long passed away. Many of the cliff buildings are in a good state of preservation, while the valley homes of long ago are but heaps of stones; about these ruins are scattered the fragmentary lares and penates of a remote civilization. It has not been determined how many generations of clifT- dwellers lived in these strange retreats. Some of these places have long since become inaccessible, owing to the wearing away of the approaches by the same elements that fashioned the recesses of the canyon walls which served as foundations for their worshiping-places, fortresses and homes. When the cloud of war grew less foreboding these people ventured from the lofty abodes, where their trials and privations had been great, and built themselves homes on mesas — flat-topped mountains or table lands. The difficulties of the mesa life imposed a great tax upon the people; the fields of grain were far away on the low lands, and the maidens grew weary carrying water up the steep acclivities from the springs below, and after a time many of the inhabitants returned to the plains and valleys, erecting dwell- ings upon the ruined towns of their forefathers, thus completing a cycle; and many such cycles may have occurred. The Tusayan Indians of Arizona, a group of the Tewan and the Acoma of New Mexico are the only tribes now living upon these high plateaus in our own territory; but cliff-dwellers still exist in remote regions of Mexico. The earliest history we have of the pueblo Indians dates back to the year l53o. Spanish adventurers penetrated the country and re- turned with extravagant accounts of these people and their wealth; and a series of general and systematic invasions followed for their conquest, and these continued from time to time until the Hidalgo treaty of 1848. According to the accounts of the invaders there were between eighty and one hundred of these pueblos; at present there are some thirty-two. The villages are all of the same general type. The people, although possessing common characteristics and follow- ing similar pursuits, and although strikingly alike in physical structure, belong to four distinct stocks: Shoshonean, Keresan, Tanoan and Zunian. It is of the Zuni that 1 shall now speak. The tribe is divided into clans, descent being through the maternal side, and though the children in a sense belong to the mother, the father is far from an unprivileged person, and his position toward the child is hardly less important than the mother's. One must not 314 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. marry a member of the mother's clan, neither is it admissible to marry into the father's clan, I have witnessed more than one love- making in Zuni, and in essentials it does not ditfer widely from that experienced by our own youths and maidens. I call to mind a couple whose love was not sanctioned by the girl's parents, and, though they determined that she should not meet this lover, she managed to glide by the well to her trysting-place each day at eventide, the hour v/hen the maidens gather to fill their water vases, which they carry, Egyp- tian-like, upon their heads, and when they exchange their bits of gossip. When I discovered them one autumn evening in the gloam- iug the youth was endeavoring to take the maiden's hand, and she was objecting with her lips, but bidding him take courage with her be- witching eyes, whose luster the shadows of evening could not veil. There are many real love matches, while others are prudential marriages, v/hich are, of course, arranged by the elders of the girl's family. It has been suggested that in Zuni the girl takes the initial step in love-making. On the contrary, these people hold such for- wardness on the part of their women much as we regard the husband- seeker. The woman indicates her satisfaction at the call of a suitor by ofifering him a draft of cool water and food. If she hesitates, owing to her uncertainty or her coquettish desire to excite anxiety within the breast of her lover, she is reminded of her duty by either the father or mother, should the young man be desired for a son-in- law. While their system of government is characteristic of a primitive state of culture, it is, nevertheless, quite complete as far as it goes, meeting the requirements of the established authority. While we profess to mete out justice to the accused, primitive law makes no such pretension. The rich and prominent man is favored; the poor and despised must suffer to the full extent of the law. The governor, who has a staff of assistants, is ex-ofticio the judge, before whom are tried all persons charged with ordinary otTenses. In more important cases the six zAhshiivanni (rain-priests) are present and interfere if in their judgment the governor fails in a proper decision. Witchcraft is always tried by the priest of the Society of the Bow and his associ- ates. The chance for a sorcerer's life is the relating of some marvel- ous story sufficient to impress the judges of his occult knowledge of medicine. The earth is watered by the deceased Zuni of both sexes, who are controlled and directed by a council composed of ancestral gods. A CHAPTER OF ZUNI MYTHOLOGY. 3l5 These shadow-people collect water in vases and gourd jugs from the six great waters of the world, and pass to and fro over the middle plane, protected from view of the people below by cloud masks, the clouds being produced by smoke; and when it is understood that, the greater the smoke offering, the greater the inducement for the rain-makers to work, it is not surprising that smoking is one of the conspicuous features of Zuni ritual. The Ahshiwanni, a priesthood of fourteen men who fast and pray for rain, the Kokko, an organization bearing the name of an- thropomorphic beings (principally ancestral) whom they personate, and thirteen esoteric societies are the three fundamental religious bodies of Zuni. It must be borne in mind that the religion and sociology of these people are so interwoven that the one cannot be studied without the other. The Society of the Kokko personate anthropomorphic gods by wearing masks and other paraphernalia. There are six estufas or chambers of the Kokko for the six regions: the north, west, south, east, zenith and nadir, and these rooms present fantastic scenes when the primitive drama is enacted by the personators of these anthro- pomorphic gods. The costumes worn at such time are quite elaborate and of artistic design. As soon as the mask is donned the actor loses his identity as a man, his body becoming the abiding-place of the god he personates. The esoteric societies, with but one or two exceptions, have nothing to do with anthropomorphic beings, this category of gods being zoomorphic. These societies deal essentially with the anagogics of medicine, feats with fire, knives, arrows and general legerdemain. The medicine practices are for extracting disease intlicted by the sorcery of men or of the lower animals. The other performances are to bring rain and snow. No society convenes without giving much time to invocations for rain, not, however, appealing directly to the sun-father, their supreme deity, and to the rain-makers, as the four- teen rain priests do, but to the beast-gods of their worship, to inter- cede with the sun-father and rain-makers. A complete system of rain cult has been instituted by these people of an arid land, for in a region where the rain seldom falls the greatest boon to man seems to come from the clouds. At the winter and summer solstices synchronal meetings of most of these societies are held, and also at other times. The members of a society meet for a number f«f nights previous to the ceremonial to rehearse their 316 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. songs, which, however, are not begun until late in the evening, the earlier part being devoted to relating epic stories— at least this used to be the custom, but at the present time the glowing accounts of the feats of their war-gods and experiences with the hated Navajo have been replaced by tales of the wrongs suffered at the hands of the white man. The women and children as well as the men are devotees in their observances of the practices of their societies. The Zuni are an agricultural and pastoral people, maize being their staple article. Every color and shade of corn may be found, these primitive agriculturists having observed the greatest care in the development of varieties. The reds range from the richest cardinal to the faintest blush of pink, and a similar variety of shades runs through the blues, yellows and purples. They have pure white and black, and the variation in the individual ears is remarkable. Almost the same variety of color is to be found among the beans. All this care of propagation has a religious significance. They do not attribute the introduction of cattle, horses and sheep to Europeans, but to the creative power of their culture hero. It is only by long and intimate relations with these people that one may gather correct data of their religion and sociology. They are so hospitable, so ready to serve others in many ways, yet so reticent, so diplomatic, that one might live much in their midst with- out knowing anything of their real life. Zuni is built upon a knoll in a broad valley walled by picturesque mesas of red and white sandstone, and on the site of a village which they deserted during a flood to flee to a mesa near by for safety, according to their account. Although this table-land is several hundred feet above the valley, yet, according to Zuni tradition, the waters reached nearly to the summit of the mesa, and in the dire extremity the rain-priests determined to sacrifice a youth and maiden in order to propitiate the angry waters. The two were dressed in their most beautiful clothes and adorned with many necklaces of turkis and other precious beads, and cast into the waters. The offer- ing stayed the calamity, and the victims were turned to stone, and are to be seen in a columnar rock broken near the top into two parts which are capped with head-like forms. These are called the father and mother rocks. This reference to the casting of the two into the waters leads to the inference that at some period in the past human sacrifice was practiced by these people. Zuni is the name given by the Spaniards; they call themselves A CHAPTER OF ZUNI MYTHOLOGY. 3 17 "Ah-shi-wi," meaning all people, reference being to themselves alone. The natural impulse of the human mind is to seek for truth and to account for the phenomena of nature, and thus philosophy grows. Mythologic philosophy is the fruit of the struggle for knowledge of cause. The reasoning of aboriginal peoples is by analogy, for at this stage of culture science is yet unborn. So the philosopher of early times is the myth-maker. The philosophy of primitive peoples is the progenitor of natural religion, and religion is invented through long processes of analogic reasoning. The Zunian belongs to this stage of culture. He is conscious of the earth he treads upon, but he does not know its form; he knows something of what the earth con- tains beneath its surface, of the rivers, the mountains, the sun, moon and all celestial bodies of the solar system to be discerned without the optical inventions of man; he sees the lightning, hears the thunder, feels the winds and knows the value of rains and snows; he is acquainted with the beasts of the forests, the birds and insects of the air, the fishes of the rivers, and knows that these living things possess attributes not attainable by himself, and so he endows these animals with superior or supernatural qualities. When one becomes ill from any other cause than that of a wound it is attributed to some foreign element thrust into the body and beyond his power to overcome. Nothing is left him then but to appeal to the creatures of superior qualities, and thus a system of theurgism develops, when religion and medicine become a sort of dualism, for the animals of his worship are his doctors, acting through the agency of the theurgist. These theurgists are the destroyers of evil inflicted by sorcery; they have no power within themselves to avert such evil; in dealing with sorcery of man they must first become entirely under the influence of the beast-gods of the cardinal points — theZuni having relegated the cougar to the north, the bear to the west, the badger to the south, and the white wolf to the east. Now, in order that the theurgist should heal his patient, this foreign object in the body must be extracted, and the means adopted to this end is curious. The lips are applied to the flesh, and the disease is drawn out by sucking. This process of suck- ing to cure disease is not confined to the Zuni, but is common among aboriginal peoples of the world, differing only in minor details. A theurgist must be a person regularly initiated into a medicine order of a secret society and may be either man or woman. All but one or two of the thirteen esoteric societies comprise several orders, that of medicine being considered the most important division. 3 18 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Though young children of both sexes enter this order, they do not practice healing until in the opinion of elder theurgists they have reached years of discretion, when they become members of the first degree. At these ceremonies of initiation a sand-painting is one of the prominent features. A ground color of sand is laid upon the floor in front of the slat altar and made perfectly smooth, and upon this figures are delineated by sprinkling powdered mineral pigment from between the thumb and fingers. These paintings, of more or less elaborateness, are common among all the pueblo Indians, the Navajo, the Mission Indians of California and tribes of the north, and are all used in connection with medicine practices. I cannot say how wide- spread the observance of sand-painting is, but the low-caste people of India design their gods in sand paintings on the ground by sprinkling in the same way, and they also have sprinkling-cups for the purpose. Unlike our Indians, they do not have a ground color of sand, but spread the surface with diluted chips of the sacred cow. The high castes have greatly elaborated the sand-paintings, which are used by them purely for decoration. This same feature is to be found in the Renaissance, when the tables of the French were bordered in elaborate designs with powdered marbles. If I have digressed from the main subject it is because it seems a point of interest to note at what remote regions of the globe the custom of sand-painting is observed. It has been mentioned that the mission of the theurgist, acting as the agent of the beast-gods, is to extract the object which causes disease, and much sleight of hand is brought into practice, especially at regular meetings, when patients gather in large numbers in the ceremonial chamber to be healed of real or imaginary disease. Our concepts of the universe are altogether different from those of primitive man; we understand natural phenomena through philo- sophical laws, while he accounts for them by analogy; we live in a world of reality, he in a world of mysticism and symbolism; he is deeply impressed by his natural environment, every object with him possessing a spiritual Ufe, so that celestial bodies, mountains, rocks, the flora of the earth and the earth itself are to him quite different from what they are to us. The sturdy pine, delicate sapling, fragrant blossom, giant rock and tiny pebble play alike their part in the mystic world of aboriginal man. Many things which tend to nourish life are symbolized by the Zuni as mother. When the Zuni speak of the earth-mother, they symbolize the earth as the source of all vegetal matter which not only nourishes man, but which also supports the A CHAPTER OF ZUNl MYTHOLOGY. 3l9 game which gives animal food to man. The earth is mother, the great one to whom they are indebted for sustenance. Ancestors are passing to and fro over the middle plane hidden by the cloud masks. The character of the clouds influences Zuni thought concerning them. If the clouds are white and fleecy the shadow-people are passing about for pleasure. Heavy rain clouds indicate that the shadow-people will water the earth; but there is a proviso. The smoke offerings which produce the clouds may have been sufficient, but this is not all: the daily life, especially of their priests, must be such as not to offend the council of ancestral gods which controls and directs the rain- makers, for, should such be the case, the council would withhold its power, and, in doing so, would leave evil-beings free to use their power, and those who send the cold winds would drive away the cloud masks. Thus the Zuni account for wind clouds. These people rarely cast their eyes upward without invoking the rain-makers, for in this arid land rain is the prime object of prayer; their water vases are covered in cloud and rain emblems, the water in the vase symbolizing the life or soul of the vase. The cereals distributed by the personators of ancestral gods are recognized by the intelligent as symbolizing only the blessings which they desire and anticipate, yet each person receives the gift with the same solemnity, and plants it with the same reverence as if it actually came from the god of cereals in the under world. While their gods preserve from evil they also bring evil; they bring plenty or want at harvest time. Thus the gods are supposed to hold within their power all prosperity and all adversity, and by means of ceremonies and many prescribed observances the gods are induced to preserve from evil and bring happiness. Thus the daily life of the Zuni is so con- trolled that every act of life assumes something of a religious char- acter, and although their religion is fraught with much fear, and although their trials and hardships in the observance of the cult in which all their hopes and ambitions are centered are many and severe, from early childhood to old age, they feel great pride in the long and tedious rituals of their esoteric societies, and real joy in personating their anthropomorphic gods when they join in the rhythm of song and dance. THE RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM OF CENTRAL AMERICA AND ITS WIDE DISTRIBUTION. BY FRANCIS PARRY, F.R.G.S. (ENG.) [Abstract.] AFTER referring to the saying of the Mayas that " they were the sons of the trees," and stating that the tree emblem existed among the sacred forms reverenced later by the Aztecs, who designated it "the tree of our life," or "the tree of our flesh," the paper mentioned that the emblem is observable in each division of the Maltese cross calendar of the hieratic manuscript of the Mayas known as the Fejerday Codex, in closest association with the cherished emblems of their religion. It was stated further that the two living principles or natural forces displayed separately on the slab from Palemke, deposited in the National Museum of Mexico, the life of man and the vegetable kingdom, are on the sacred Maya Stone of Mexico each assigned a place. In the cruciform, almost tree-like form of the larger so-called altar slabs of Palemke, they are combined; as the Ahan, the lord of the life of men, is a part of the stem and is dove-tailed into one piece with a symbol universally employed to represent vegetation or the force producing it. The Maya hieratic symbol Ahan embodies the three principles of life, those found in the sexes and the vegetable germ, the former com- prising the continuity of the existence of men, animals, insects, and the inhabitants of the air and water. It is common in the manu- scripts, and is freely employed as a hieroglyphic and as a symbol. When used as a hieroglyphic, the Ahan frequently has its three dots removed to the outside lower edge, and they are used alone either grouped in a triangular or in a lineal manner, and may be observed in multiples or as the original three on the majority of the Maya monuments, where they denote plenty, fecundity. The three-dot symbol may be seen on the Costa Rica and Zuni pottery, and on native stones for grinding corn in actual use by the mission Indians of California, in the latter instance undoubtedly denoting ' ' abund- ance," or a desire for it. Another symbol occasionally occurring appears to accord with part of the sentiment expressed by Ahan. It closely resembles the Chinese sign which symbolizes the two natural forces, the Yun and 320 THE RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM OF CENTRAL AMERICA. 321 the Yin, the male and the female. The symbol is on a Santa Lucia slab now in the Berlin Museum, and is among the symbols on the monoliths of Copan, the largest known being there on a circular so- called altar five feet in diameter, where it covers the entire mass, with the exception of a serpent border. Yet another symbol occurs synonymous with these. It is taken from the form of a springing calibash plant, that is, the erect sprout, and is employed oftentimes in the place of Ahan to portray the three principles of life. The renowned Palemke cross has this rival emblem incorporated into its stem; a large specimen in sculpture is among the recent acquisitions at Cambridge, Mass. ; and it survives among the Aztecs. The Copan stellar are really the representations of the emblems, three in number, here treated of, with varieties of them, massed together, in combination with other two principal emblems and their varieties. The fourth emblem was the sun, the heat-and-light-giver. His symbols were in many cases masks, and throughout the whole central region these were worn by the priests on certain occasions until recent times. One sculptured form of mask had a shape so like a skull as to be mistaken for one. Another skull-like mask is, both in the manuscripts and in carving, shown with clawed feet, an accompani- ment quite in order with the historical development of the symbol as recorded on the sacred stone. Lastly, an equal-limbed cross, of the Greek form, was wor- shipped by the natives of Merida, and at Palemke was another cruciform, on the slabs of a temple or shrine built on a pyramid, which had the semblance to the true cross, because, although of equal limbs, it overlaid, or rather was incorporated into, the tree form. The Palemke cross has arms, the terminals of which are grecques that with grotesque contortions make the heads of serpents. The Greek cross and the serpent were inseparable and manifestations of one idea, both being symbols of the God of the Air, who was per- sonified by the rattle-snake, and obtained the appellation of the Plumed Serpent. In conclusion, the paper stated that unanimity marks the ancient people of America in the matter of religious belief, and that in sur- veying the past history of the religion of the Five principles, there is some satisfaction in claiming for it a distinct place, and being able to come to the conclusion that it is of independent growth and purely American. MUSEUM COLLECTIONS TO ILLUSTRATE RELIGIOUS HISTORY AND CEREMONIALS. BY CYRUS ADLER. MUSEUM collections perform a double funcrion. They instruct the public and they furnish material for the investigator. They render the reading of books more intelligible, and their writing more accurate. Infinitely more than the popular illustrated magazine or scientific monthly are they the means of communication between the average man and the scholar. The study of religious history and ceremonial institutions stands on a footing different from that of any other branch of knowledge. Political history, though in a lesser degree, suffers under similar disadvantages. The study of biology or the physical sciences is approached with no predisposition. Their terminology is arbitrarily given, and the errors of their followers are due to infirmity of the powers of obser- vation or generalization. The study of political history, no matter how scientific the spirit in which it be approached, is influenced by an emotion — that worthy emotion known as patriotism, for which men sacrifice life, health and fortune. An emotion even stronger is religion; its influence is second only to that of domestic affection, and sometimes overcomes it; its lessons are the earliest instilled into the mind; none escapes its influence. Even with unusual precautions in the case of a human being bereft of most of the avenues of perception religious teaching could not be excluded.* All modern literatures presuppose a definite belief, and the creeds which differ therefrom are described in terms which carry a derog- atory implication, t It is obvious, therefore, that if the public is to be taught the history of religion or religious ceremonies, it will be most advisable * Laura Bridgman. f This sometimes occurs as a result of scientific prejudice; witness the plac- ing by Paolo Mantegazza of many religious objects under the headings of super- stitioin and crneUj> in the Museo Psychologico at Florence. 322 MUSEUM COLLECTIONS. 323 to approximate the methods of those branches of study in which the knowledge is acquired for its own sake, without thought of profes- sional use or partisan advantage, simply for the enlargement of the mental horizon of the individual, and the increased mental power thereby attained. Modern investigation and modern teaching are based upon phen- omena. Science deals with objects and phenomena; it collects them, describes them, and classifies them. A few great men in the world generalize; speculation, acknowledged to be such, is out of fashion. This tendency of investigation to deal with phenomena has reacted upon all forms and grades of instruction, the higher as well as the popular. It has given the impulse to and shaped the growth of the highest modern method of popular instruction— " the most powerful and useful auxiliary of all systems of teaching by object lessons," * — the educational museum. Religious history and ceremonial have been the very last to profit by the awakened impulse acquired through the museum and the general exhibition. The first museum established solely for the collection and pres- ervation of objects having to do with religion was the Muse'e Guimet, founded at Lyons in 1879 by M. Emile Guimet, on his return from the mission entrusted to him by the French Ministry of Public In- struction, to study the religions of the extreme Orient. The collec- tion thus assembled is the largest and best single collection of objects relating to religion ever put together. It has occasioned the publica- tion of a series of volumes which form by far the most remarkable contributions yet produced to the scientific study of religions. In 1885 this museum was removed to Paris, a special building erected for it, and it is now included among the series of museums under government control. But, in spite of the splendid character of the collections and the great impetus they have given to scientitic research, the Museum has serious weaknesses which should not be overlooked. The general classification as well as the special arrangement are defective from the point of view of a museum of religions. Geographical considerations have dictated the general classifica- tion, so that the Chinese, Japanese and Indian Buddhism, for example, » Dr. G. Brown Goode, Museums of the Future. Report U. S. CKatioiial Museum, 1889, p. 427. 324 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. are shown out of relation to one another. ^Esthetic considerations have directed the arrangement of the groups themselves; the special objects are in the main without labels, making the use of the printed guide, always tiresome and distracting, an absolute necessity for the general visitor. So strongly has the aesthetic arrangement pre- dominated that I am informed the character of the museum is to be changed, and that in future it will be devoted to Oriental art. The most serious fault of the museum, however, is that it fails to furnish an intelligent train of thought to the mind of the average visitor. The real method of popular education consists in imparting the unknown in terms of the known. Just as the scientific investi- gator obtains results by the comparison of facts and phenomena, does the museum visitor have his interest awakened by the oppor- tunity of comparing familiar objects with those brought to his knowl- edge for the first time. From the point of view of popular education it is, therefore, a capital error that the Musee Guimet has not included the Christian religion, as well as the Mohammedan and Jewish religions, with which the first named has such close affiliations, in the series which it places on exhibition. Many museums contain objects which would find place in a collection of religions. These are usually installed in ethnological exhibits, and more frequently still are shown as objects of art. In a few museums religious art is treated as a distinct subject, and, being arranged chronologically, may be considered as showing the development of both church history and religious symbolism. The most important of these is the Lateran Museum at Rome. In 1843 Pope Gregory XVI. set apart the Palazzo del Laterano as a museum for heathen and Christian antiquities, styling it Museum Gregorianum Lateranense. The Christian Museum was founded by Pius IX. It contains a most valuable collection, including a series of early Christian inscriptions arranged by De Rossi. The National Bavarian Museum at Munich contains a rich col- lection of Christian ecclesiastical art, as well as a goodly series of Jewish religious objects. The Arab Museum in Cairo, although not erected from the point of view of religions, is yet to a considerable extent a collection of Mohammedan ecclesiastical art. Its purpose is the preservation of monuments of Arab art, but, as the mosque was the chief inspirer of MUSEUM COLLECTIONS. 325 elegant work, most of its objects are directly or indirectly related to Mohammedan worship. The U. S. National Museum contains Buddhist objects from India, Siam, China, Corea and Japan, as well as considerable col- lections from Polynesia — the result of the Wilkes Exploring Expedi- tion, In the Department of Ethnology much attention has been paid to collections of objects of religious import employed by the abori- gines of North America, and special series, as, for instance, mortuary customs, have been for some time on exhibition. As a result of the travels of Mr, W. W. Rockhill in Thibet, the National Museum secured a rich and unique collection of the religious objects of the Buddhists of that little known country. lu 1889 a collection of objects illustrating Jewish religious cere- monial was placed on exhibition, and in his report for that year Dr. Goode announced the purpose of the museum to form a collection which would illustrate the comparative history of religion. Having found a place in the museum, it was but proper that the subject of religion should be assigned space in the great exhibitions, and that in the natural course of events special exhibits of religious objects should be made. These exhibits are quite distinct from the church exhibits — either from the point of view of propaganda or philanthropy — which have usually been included in exhibition classi- fications, A special religious exhibition of considerable importance was the Esposizione Vaticana, held to commemorate the jubilee of Pope Leo Xlll., from December, 1887, to May, 1888. It took place in the Basilica di San Pietro e Palazzi Vaticani, and its story is told in a serial publication, U Esposizione Vaticana Illustrata Giornale Ujjiciale per la Commissione Promotrice, as well as in a valuable catalogue.* While not exclusively religious, the exhibition was in the main an exhibit of the Roman Catholic religion, although costumes of other religious functionaries were admitted. In the same year there was held in London, in honor of the Queen's jubilee, the Anglo-Jewish Historical Exhibition, in which the richest collection of Jewish ceremonial obiects ever got together was placed on exhibition. At the Paris Exposition of 1889 the Society of Anthropology of * See Appendix No. l. 326 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Paris included a history of religions in its classfication, with the sub- divisions of Amulets and Divinities. Amulets, however, were given most attention. In April, 1892, a loan exhibition of objects used in religious cere- monies and charms and implements for divination was held at Philadelphia under the auspices of the Department of Archc^ology and Paleontology of the University of Pennsylvania. A useful catalogue of this collection (edited by Mr. Stewart Culin) was published. The classification followed the Musee Guimet, and was geographical in the main, though not strictly so.* A decided improvement on the Musee Guimet plan was the admission of one of the great Semitic religions — Mohammedanism. In the Columbian Historical Exhibition at Madrid (1892), 7,000 square metres were devoted to a splendid exhibit of Christian ecclesi- astical art, arranged by cathedrals. The Chicago Exposition has made considerable advance on its predecessors in this regard. Two exhibits of religions are to be found here— one in the Ethnological Building and one in the U. S. Govern- ment Building. On the Midway Plaisance there is a mosque in charge of an Imam, officially appointed by the Sultan of Turkey, in his capacity of Caliph, i. e., successor, or rather substitute of Moham- med—the title of the head of the Mohammedan church. A Parliament of Religions has been called which, while conducted on church lines, and almost exclusively from the propagandist or philanthropic point of view, yet possesses a certain interest, in that it enables the presentation of many creeds by their own professors. Of the exhibits I shall not speak in detail, as the Congress has set apart a special day for visiting them, yet I may be pardoned for making a few general statements covering the exhibit in the Smithsonian Section. Some time before the plans for the National Museum exhibit were under way, the purpose of forming a section devoted to com- parative religion had been definitely announced. It was accordingly decided to prepare a type exhibit for the World's Fair. This exhibit suffered under limitations as to space and time for preparation. It was further decided to limit the religions shown to a selection of the nations inhabiting the Mediterranean. This selection had a conscious *See Appendix No. 2. MUSEUM COLLECTIONS. 'Sll significance already referred to in the discussion of the Musee Guimet, which is of considerable practical value for the advance of the study of religions in America. The Mediterranean basin has been the seat of the civilizations of the modern western world. The art, phil- osophy and religion of Europe and America arose among the ancients of that region, and the highest ideals even of the moderns are still to be found in the books and the works of art of those ancient peoples. In an attempt, therefore, to introduce the study of religions into universities, or to create departments of religious ceremonial in museums, it behooves us for the nonce to put aside the American, Indian and the Central African, and to begin at least with those religions whose history has an interest for all men of our day, the knowledge of which should really become a part of general culture. The exhibits comprised the following religions: Assyro-Baby- lonian, Jewish, Oriental Christian, Mohammedan, Greek and Roman. It is expected that in the coming year a collection of religious history and ceremonial institutions will be installed in the National Museum. For the present, museum economy will render it necessary that objects relating to the religion of the aborigines of North America be retained in the general ethnological exhibits, though they will be carefully differentiated. With that exception, the museum collections already referred to, those on exhibition at the Exposition and some recently acquired, will be labeled and installed as soon as practicable. So fully is the im- portance of this subject recognized that, in spite of the great pressure for floor space at the museum, adequate room will be provided, although it will require the retiring of some interesting collections. Religion consists in what men believe concerning the supernatural and what they do in consequence of that belief— in creed and cult. It is the cult which most readily lends] itself to museum exhib- ition, and this will be taken up first, although there are devices by which even creeds may be shown in museum collections. The objects will be exhibited in religious groups and not in any geographical relation, except in so far as the worship has actually been affected by geographical considerations. The cult objects will be arranged under certain well recognized heads. There is usually a public worship in which the sacerdotal and lay classes have definite functions; there are places of worship with 328 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. furniture and appointments, symbols about them and shrines within them; there is the sacerdotal person, his costume and the implements he employs; the sacred writings, the altar or its equivalent; the special public religious occasions, such as feasts; the public religious ceremonies on special occasions that affect the community — as wars, triumphs, distress, famine and drought. The relation of the individual to the cult will come next in order — marriage, birth and death, in some cases betrothal; ceremonies at certain ages, more especially of the attainment of puberty; the rela- tion of religion to the organized community, state religious obser- vances; finally the secret religious practices among which charms and divination would probably fall. Such collections once made for the individual religions, cer- tain groups of ceremonies will be taken up in the hope that a com- parison of the underlying ideas may form a fruitful subject of study, * A double purpose would be served, for instance, by an exhibit of sacred books, which would furnish an opportunity for the classifica- tion of the book religions. This may be followed by a collection to illustrate the altar and sacred enclosure. Another subject that would lend itself to such a comparative collection would be votive offerings; still another would be music and musical instruments; mortuary and marriage customs, and many other subjects will readily suggest them- selves. I cannot do better than quote a sentence from the suggestive article of Prof. Jastrow t as expressing the aspirations of the National Museum in this connection: " With the admirable facilities possessed by a government institution," he says, "for obtaining objects from all parts of the world, the scope of this section ought at an early day be made co-equal with the universe." The study of religions is one by no means narrow, but full of significance for the historian and anthropologist. The greatest move- ments in political history have either been occasioned by or resulted *How effectively t^iis may be done as a matter of investigation, has already / been shown by the study of sacrifice among the Semites by Prof. W. Robertson Smith in his work, The Semitic T^eligions: Fundamental Institutions, the most notable contribution to the study of Semitic religions which has ever been made. f 'Biblical IVorld, Jan., 1893, pp. 24-32. MUSEUM COLLECTIONS. 329 in religious movements; and these are not infrequently stereotyped in some religious ceremony. It is no exaggeration to say that the history of the Roman Church, as well as the history of the church symbolism, might be studied in a collection of Papal medals; yet, so far as I am aware, no attempt has ever been made to form such a collection. As Dr. Brinton has pointed out, religion has had much to ao with the growth of the arts and forms of government.* A subject of such wide import and so great general interest ought rapidly be admitted to our museums, find a place in the curriculum of our universities, and gain an entrance to all the avenues of public instruction. Appendix L CLASSIFICATION OF OBJECTS RELATIVE TO CATHOLIC WORSHIP AND RELIGION. Group L — Woven Goods. ist Class. — IVhite Goods. Principal objects: Amices— Albs— Cinctures— Corporais— Palls— Purifac- tors— Handkerchiefs— Finger Towels— Altar Linens— Communion Cloths— Sur- plices and Rochet-towels for the Sacristy, etc., etc. 2nd Class. — Colored Goods. Principal Objects : Chasubles— Stoles— Maniples— Chalices— Veils— Burses for Chalices (colors: white, red, green, violet, black, and gold and silver cloth) —Cushions for Missals— Dalmatics— Copes— Veils for Sub-deacon— Coverings for the Bench in Solemn Masses— Coverings for the Missal in the same Solemn Masses— Canopy or Altar Coverings— Burse for Pyx— Veil for Pyx— Veil for Processions— Altar Coverings— Carpet or Cloth for Altar Steps— Covering for Immovable Lecturns— Covering for Movable Lecturns—Cloths— Arras-Veils, €tc., to adorn churches— Artificial Flowers in silk, cloth and talc— Pennants- Banners, etc. Gnoup II.— Objects in Metal, Wood. Etc. jrd Class.— I^essels of Metal. Principal Objects: Chalices (cups of gold and silver gilt)— Paiens— Vessels for Hosts (i. e., Ciboriums)— Little Basins for Cruets— Peace Instruments— Pyxes— Ostensoria— Vessels for Purifications— Vessels for Water to be Blessed- Portable Vessels for Holy Water— Vessels for Oil for the Lamps— Vessels for the Holy Oils— Vessels for washing the hands in the Sacristy. * I cono graphic Cjyclopedia, Vol. I., 141. 330 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. 4th Class. — Furniture of Various Kinds. Principal Objects: Crosses for Altars — Processional Crosses — Crosses for the Sick — Chandeliers for Altars— Triangular Chandeliers — Chandeliers for the Pascal Candle — Altar-Cards— Antependiums — Missal-stands — Censers — Incense Boat — Umbrellas and Canopies — Wooden Boxes for Chalices — Case for Osten- soria — Folding Seats — Bishop's Chairs — Fold-stool {i. e., unofficial episcopal throne)— Kneeling Benches— Pulpits — Official Throne of Bishop — Gates- Wooden Altars — Cornices, etc., etc. ^th Class. — Glass. Principal Objects: Cruets — Vessels for Purifications — Lamps — Colored Glasses. Group III.— Books. 6th Class. — 'Books for Worship. Principal Objects: Missals — Psalters — Graduals — Antiphonaries — Breviaries — Martyrologies — Rituals — Pontificals — Ceremonials, etc., etc. yth Class. — Religious Books. Principal Objects: Theological and Catechetical Works— Moral and Casu- istry—Philosophy — Ascetic Works — History — Biography — Apologists— Litur- gies — Sacred Archaeology and Epigraphy — Reliefs and Monographs of Sacred Monuments now existing — Religious Journals and Periodicals, etc., etc. Group IV.— Fine Arts and their Affinities. 8tb Class. — (Architecture. Principal Objects: Plans and Designs for Churches, Chapels, Altars, Bap- tistries — Small Models — Designs of existing Churches — Designs and Plans for Restoration of Churches, etc., etc, gth Class. — Painting. Principal Objects: Altar Pieces in oil, encaustic, distemper — Miniatures, etc., etc. toth Class.^Sculpture. Principal Objects: Statues — Groups — Bas-reliefs — Wall Decorations and Sacred Furniture (in marble, metal, wood, terra-cotta, cement, scagliola, stucco) etc., etc. nth Class. — zMusic. PART first. Principal Objects: Treatises on Religious Music — Collection of Ancient Religious Music — Modern Church Music, etc. PART second. Principal Objects: Organs— Harmoniums — Bells, large and small, etc., etc. MUSEUM COLLECTIONS. 33l i2tb Class. — Ajfniities. PART FIRST. Photography, Silography, Lithography, Engravings in Steel and in Copper, Seals, Mosaics, Plaster, etc., etc. The reproduction of Devotional Objects — Sacred Images— Monuments, etc. HART SECOND. Small Devotional Objects, as Rosaries, Medals, Crucifixes, etc. PART THIRD. Different Products: Wax— Oil— Wine— Incense, etc. John ACQUADERIN, President. John Donini, Secretary. Bologna, January fist, i88y. Appendix 11. CLASSIFICATION OF UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA EXHIBITS OF RELIGIONS. Ancient Egypt. Religions of India. Sectarian Brahminism. Buddhism. Jainism. Religions of China: The State Religion. Confucianism. Worship of Ancestors. Taoism. Buddhism. Thibetan Buddhism. Religious Ceremonies of the Chinese in the United States. Japan: Shintoism. Buddhism. Mohammedanism. American Religions: Northwest Coast. United States. Mexico. Yucatan. San Domingo. Peru. Polynesia. Bantu Tribes. ^ LINGUISTICS. xa LINGUISTICS. THE PRESENT STATUS OF AMERICAN LINGUISTICS. BY DANIEL G. BRINTON. [Abstract.] THE survey of American linguistics which I shall present to you shall have as its chief object the indication of the tlelds which have been least cultivated, and which, for this reason, demand the closer attention of future workers. In the extreme north, the various Eskimo dialects have of late been studied by a number of competent observers, and their relation- ship rendered more clear, while their sharp contrast to the Ural-Altaic languages has become evident. In the Dene, or Athabascan, the labors of the Rev. A. J, Morice in the west have supplied excellent material for the important comparisons which should be instituted between the De'ne of the northern interior and the dialects of the coast, and the Navaho and Apache of the south. The relationship of the northwest coast tongues has been most fruitfully examined by Dr. Boas, whose conclusions will be laid before this Congress. Throughout the United States the native tongues have long been systematically studied by the linguists of the Bureau of Ethnology, and many interesting discoveries have resulted. The linguistic map lately issued by the Bureau will long be the guide to laborers in this field. To Mr. Horatio Hale we owe, among many other valuable contributions, the discovery of the extension of the Dakota stock to the eastern seaboard among the Tuteloes, a suggestion followed up by Messrs. Gatschet and Dorsey in the identification of the Biloxis, and probably the Catawbas, as other members of the same family. We still ask further evidence of the identification of the Cherokee with the Iroquois; and the stocks of Texas, Southern Florida and Southern California are not yet positively established. In Mexico, under the active supervision of Dr. Antonio Penafiel, a mass of material has been collected in the shape of vocabularies by the Ministerio del Fomento; but practically none of this has been 335 336 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. published. It is very likely that entirely new and unknown linguistic stocks survive in this republic, and it is certain that of many languages and dialects still spoken there we possess only the most meager information. We cannot too strongly urge upon the intelli- gent scholars of our sister republic to collect and publish the new linguistic material which is at their hands in the less traveled portions of their own country. The same cannot be said of the Central American, or, as I have called it in my work on " The American Race," the "Inter-Isthmian" region. 1 do not believe that a single new stock will be discovered between the Isthmus of Tehuantepec and that of Panama; and the only important historic tribe which we cannot assign to its linguistic place is the Guetares of Costa Rica. Dr. C. Sapper, of Guatemala, has, indeed, recently promised me a vocabulary of a new stock from Tapachula, but I shall be surprised if on receipt it does not turn out to be one already familiar.* Passing to South America, 1 avail myself of this opportunity lo make public for the first time a conclusion which I have reached, opposed not only to the opinion hitherto always expressed by linguists, but to my own former statements. This opinion, so long held, is that the linguistic stocks of South America are more numerous than those of North America. This view I have been obliged to renounce after a prolonged and special study of all the accessible materials con- cerning South American languages. I am persuaded that the really astonishing multitude of dialects there found will resolve themselves into a comparatively small number of stocks, less, certainly, than those already recognized in the northern continent, t The interesting question of the possible relationship of some of these stocks with tongues on the northern continent has been noted by Herzog, Uhle, Adam, Ernst, and others, and is eminently deserv- ing of continued investigation. It cannot be said that, up to the present, wholly satisfactory results have been reached. We have recent and excellent studies of the Carib by Von den Steinen and Adam, of the Southern Brazilian dialects by Ehrenreich, *This proved to be the case, as it is found to be a dialect of the Zoque- Mixe family. f Some evidence may be seen in my Studies of South American O^ative Languages. (Philadelphia, 1S92.) THE PRESENT STATUS OF AMERICAN LINGUISTICS. 337 of the Pano by R. de la Grasserie, who also contributes one on the Puquina to this Congress, on the Kechua, by MiddenorlT, on the Tupi by Nogueira, Rodrigues and Seybold, on the Chaco dialects by Lafonequevedo, on the Yahcan by Brydges and Hyades; but we have inadequate information of the numerous tongues spoken along tiie great divide between the basins of the La Plata and Amazon rivers; of those which still survive in the mountains of Southern Colombia and Ecuador, and in Andaqui and the neighboring provinces. We have yet to establish the relationship, if any exists, between the Patagonian Tzoneca, the tongues of Fuegia, and the Great Araucan and Chaco families to the north. Nor can it be allowed that the last word has been said as to the connection of the Aymara with the Kechua, or of the Arawack with the Tupi. These are hasty references to the geographical lacunae which are visible on the linguistic map of America; but there are others keenly felt by the student who is in earnest on this subject. He perceives that not only in some localities the material does not exist, but that in others, while it does exist, it remains inaccessible. Here is where we should appeal urgently to governments, learned societies and the intelligent wealthy for aid. We shall never know Nahuatl till the great history written in that language by Father Sahagun, the unique manuscript of which is in the Medicean Library in Florence, is pub- lished; we can never learn the full resources of the Maya language until the dictionary written at the Convent of Motul in the middle of the sixteenth century is printed, two manuscripts of which exist— one in my possession. In similar case is the Micmac- English Dictionary of Rand, the Cakchiquel Dictionary of Coto, and many others. How fruitful has been the liberality of Julius Platzmann in republish- ing extremely rare works on American languages! How valuable the Library of oAmerican Linguistics, edited by Shea; the Bibliotbeque de Linguistique Americaine, published under the auspices of various French scholars in Paris; and the similar series brought out by Alphonse Pinart! 1 have scarcely left myself room to refer to many scholars who have made general or special studies on American languages, such as Friedrich Mueller, who, in his epochal Gnmdriss der Sprachwissen- schaft, offers a systematic analysis of over forty of them; of Lucien Adam, who, besides general studies, has published model monographs on the Chapanec, Mosquito, etc. ; of Charencey, whose Chrestomathie 338 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. zMaya merits the highest commendation; of Dr. Stoll, who has taken as his field the numerous South Maya dialects; of Dr. Sapper, whose recent linguistic map of Guatemala is most satisfactory; or Dr. Darapsky, whose analyses of South American groups are always scholarly; of the Licentiate Belmar, who is exploring the unfilled field of South Mexican dialects; of Fernandez Ferraz, to whom we owe valuable publications on Central American native tongues; of Dr. Leon, who has opened the treasures of the Tarascan; of the Abbe Petitot, whose Dene Dictionary is the standard; of Rink and Bour- quin, whose works on the Eskimo are unsurpassed; and in this list of those who have lent the greatest aid to American linguistics it would be a signal omission to forget the name of James C. Pilling, whose bibliographies of the native languages of North America are unequaled in their class for fullness and accuracy. CLASSIFICATION OF THE LANGUAGES OF THE NORTH PACIFIC COAST. BY FRANZ BOAS. THE North Pacific Coast is inhabited by a great number of Indian tribes who speak many distinct languages. A comparison of vocabularies of these languages has led to the following group- ing in linguistic stocks. In Southern Alaska we find a number of dialects of the Tlingit language. On Queen Charlotte Islands and on a few islands of the Prince of Wales Archipelago the Haida is spoken. In the northern portion of British Columbia, particularly along Naass River and Skeena River, we find the Tsimshian spoken in two dialects. From Northern British Columbia to the central portion of Vancouver Island extend the Kwakiutl, whose language is spoken in three closely allied dialects. Adjoining them at the west coast of Vancouver Island live the Nootka. South and east of these regions a great number of languages are spoken which are all ai^liated, and called the Salish languages. An isolated branch of this stock lives among the Kwakiutl, while the great body is located in the interior of British Columbia, Washington, Northern Idaho and Northwestern Montana. A small isolated branch is found south of Columbia River. On the coast of Washington they enclose a small territory on which the Chemakum language is spoken. Along Columbia River they adjoin the Sahaptin and Chinook languages. The Willamette River valley was occupied by people speaking two distinct languages, the Calapooya and the Molala. In this enumeration I have omitted the Athapascan, which is spoken in the northern interior of British Col- umbia and in a number of isolated regions along the Pacific coast. In comparing these languages we are, first of all, struck by a certain similarity of phonetics among most of them. We find an abundance of k sounds, articulated in all positions from the posterior velar to the anterior palatal position; a series of lateral explosives or / sounds articulated at the posterior portion of the palate. On the other hand, the aspirate labials and the lingual r are absent. The only languages which show an entirely difierent phonetic type are the 340 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. Calapooya and Molala. As little is known regarding their strucmre, I must omit them in the following considerations. The phonetic system of the various languages may best be set forth by the following scheme: rals. Tlingit Haida Tsimshian.. Kwakiutl ; . Nootka .... Salish Chemakum Chinook ... bials. Poiut of Tongue. Back of Tong-ue. Thrills. R. L,ater L,. — 1 1 * 1 1 1 1 1 — 1 — If 1 — 1 — I — * M occurs sometimes, but pronounced with semi-closure of the lips. t Except the Tillamook dialect. This tabulation shows that the Tlingit, Haida and Tsimshian take a peculiar position among the other dialects, as they have an r sound, and as the first two have no labials. The r sound in question is a uvular thrill, the lips assuming at the same time the w position. As the thrill is very light, particularly in Tlingit and Tsimshian, the sound is often mistaken for u. In Bishop Ridley's translation of the Gospel I find, for instance, g'uel for what I hear as g'E'rEl, In all these languages the dilTerence between surds and sonants is very slight, so much so that I doubt if there is any real difference of this character in Haida and Tlingit. It exists, undoubtedly, in the Kwakiutl and Salish. In the latter language we find the peculiarity that in many dialects m and n are pronounced with semi-closure of the nose, so that they are dit!kult to distinguish from h and d. This peculiarity is also found, although to a less extent, in the Kwakiutl, Nootka, Chemakum and Chinook languages. When we turn to a consideration of the grammatical form of these languages, we shall find again that Haidi and Tlingit stand de- cidedly by themselves when compared to the rest of the languages. While all the others use reduplication for grammatical purposes, no trace of reduplication is found in these two languages. A closer comparison reveals a number of other traits which they have in common. There is no trace of grammatic gender and no separate forms for singular and plural or distributive. When it is neces- sary to state expressly that the plural is meant, a word denoting ' ' a number of " is placed after the noun. Compound nouns are very LANGUAGES OF THE NORTH PACIFIC COAST. 341 numerous, the compounds being placed side by side without any alteration. Words of two, three and more components which seem to be monosyllabic occur. Local adverbs, which always retain their independence, frequently enter into compound words of this kind. The adjective always follows the noun to which it belongs. In both languages there are four forms of the personal pronoun. In the independent pronoun the selective and the ordinary form may be distinguished. For instance, in Tlingit, the question: "Who among you is going to go?" requires the answer xatc, I; while the question, "Who is there?" requires the answer ;va/, I. The pronoun of transitive verbs differs from that of intransitive verbs, the latter being identical with the objective form of the former. In Thngit we have qat (1) rE (2) nek (3) I (1) (am) sick (3), the rE being a particle, but at {\) qa (2) sae' (3) it (1) I (2) cook (3); in Haida; de (1) sfe'ga (2) I (1) sick (2); but tla (1) ga (2) ta (3), I (1) it (2) eat (3). The latter example elucidates another point of resem- blance between the two languages. When transitive verbs have no object, it is necessary to add a general object, in Tlingit at {\) qa {2) qa (3), It (1) I (2) eat (3); in Haida tla (1) ga (2) ta (3), I (1) it (2) eat (3). The transitive verb is formed in both languages by placing the objective pronoun first, next the subject, and last the verb. The objective pronoun is derived in both languages from the objective form of the personal pronoun. The interrogative is formed in Tlingit by the particle ag^, in Haida by gua. In the former language the particle follows the verb, in the latter the pronoun. In both languages, however, it follows the adverb, if there is one. The enumeration of similarities shows a far-reaching resemblance of structure of the two languages. I will add a short list of compound words which will make the similarity of structure still clearer. Haida. Literal Translation. gyaU'aniE'l leg knuckle , , S leg dancing ap- g'at idsga'wa deer belt / ,. ., , J , { mouth smoke 'r xe'Ltnga'etida'o\ ^^^ I faL gjyit'e' her womb child na ti'na house top g'o'Ua Ira'era stealing master ra'Hila Ira'era fighting master Eng-lish. Tling-it Literal Translation. ankle q'os CaqL leg knuckle dancing leggins \ q'os qet leg dancing ap- parel lycopodium pipe q'oqan si'ge ts'eqda ket deer belt smoke around box pregnant roof to kat gafa hit ka her womb child house top thief ta'o s'a'te stealing master warrior g'au s'a'te fighting master 342 THE INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF ANTHROPOLOGY. This similarity of structure becomes the more surprising if we take into consideration that not one of the neighboring languages shows any of the peculiarities enumerated here. The structural re- semblance of the two languages and their contrast with the neighbor- ing languages can be explained only by the assumption of a common origin. The number of words which may possibly be connected by etymology is small, and the similarities are doubtful. Nevertheless, the structural resemblance must be considered final proof of a his- torical connection between the two languages. In concluding, I give a brief list of similar words: ngrlish. Tlingit. Haida. child gat gj>it small ga'tsko gE'tso ear guk gvu thumb gouc k'use' blood CE g.a'i knuckle t'aql fzmE'l septum faka' fa'nri sinew fas fa'tse elbow fer isEgui' heart tek tek' o' go knee q'ulo' hyer people na na (house) to stand gya gy^l dry xoq qa woman ea'wat dja'at on top of hi si man ungit e'Lingj i< qa q'al The next group of languages embraces the Tsimshian, Kwakiutl and Nootka, Salish and Chemakum. As I have proved at another place {Sixth Report on the Northwestern Tribes of Canada, Tro- ceedin^s of the British Association for the