The natives of this valley had a curious habit, when they were made to dive for fish, of afterward throwing themselves in a row on the sun-heated sand to warm their stomachs for a minute or two.

Near Ohuivo, in the mountains toward Morelos, there used to live a family of ten albinos. When I was there only two survived, smallpox having made havoc among them. Their skin was so delicate that even the contact with their clothing irritated it. Mr. Hartman visited one of them, an old woman who lived in a cave with her husband, a small, dark-skinned fellow, and the two certainly were "mated, but not matched." Her features were entirely Indian, but her complexion was unique in Mexico, even among the white population. She reminded one of a very blond type of Scandinavian or Irish peasantry. Her hair was yellowish-white, but her eye-brows and -lashes were snow-white. The face and body were white, but disfigured with large red spots and small freckles. She kept her eyes more than half shut, and as she was very shy it was not possible to ascertain the color of the iris; but Mr. Hartman was assured by the husband that it was bluish.

Most of the Indians in Ohuivo live in houses. The few caves that are occupied are not improved in any way. One cave contained ancient habitations, and tradition says that there the Tubares had once established themselves. The cave is nothing but a nearly horizontal crack in the rock, situated on the southern side of the river, some 300 feet above the bottom of the valley. It runs from south-east to north-west to a length of about 200 feet, interrupted perpendicularly by a crevice. Entering the cave at the southernmost end I found twelve low-walled rooms, standing singly, but closely side by side. They were square with rounded corners. The walls were built of stone and mud and one foot thick, and the floors were hard and smooth. A store-room, in a good state of preservation, resembled in every detail the store-houses used by the Tarahumares of the present day, being square and built of stone and mud. In none of these rooms was it possible for me to stand upright. Apart from this group, a few yards higher up in the cave, were two small houses. The floor of the cave was getting higher and higher. I had to crawl on my stomach for about ten yards and came suddenly to the edge of a precipice; but a track led around it to the other side, where I found the main portion of the houses, eighteen in all, the largest having a side thirteen feet long, though the others were considerably smaller. They were arranged just like those of the first section, in one row, and were made of the same material, except a few, which were built of adobe. In these the walls were only eight inches thick. One of the rooms was still complete, had square openings, and may have been a store-room. The others seem to have had the conventional Indian apertures. In two chambers I noticed circular spaces sunk into the floor six inches deep and about fourteen inches in diameter. What I took to be an estufa, nineteen feet in diameter, was found in the lowest section. Behind it was only a small cluster of five houses higher up in the cave.

Though this is the only ancient cave-dwelling I visited in Ohuivo, I was assured that there were several others in the neighbourhood. The broken country around Zapuri is interesting on account of the various traditions which, still living on the lips of the natives, refer to a mysterious people called the Cocoyomes, regarded by some Tarahumares as their ancient enemies, by others as their ancestors. They were the first people in the world, were short of stature and did not eat corn. They subsisted mainly on herbs, especially a small agave called tshawi. They were also cannibals, devouring each other as well as the Tarahumares. The Cocoyomes lived in caves on the high cliffs of the sierra, and in the afternoon came down, like deer, to drink in the rivers. As they had no axes of iron they could not cut any large trees, and were unable to clear much land for the planting of corn. They could only burn the grass in the arroyos in order to get the fields ready. Long ago, when the Cocoyomes were very bad, the sun came down to the earth and burned nearly all of them; only a few escaped into the big caves.

Here in Zapuri the Cocoyomes had four large caves inside of which they had built square houses of very hard adobe; in one of the caves they had a spring. The Tarahumares often fought with them, and once, when the Cocoyomes were together in the largest cave, which had no spring, the Tarahumares besieged them for eight days, until all of the Cocoyomes had perished from hunger. From such an event the name of Zapuri may have been derived. Intelligent Mexicans, whom I consulted, agree that it means "fight" or "contest" (Spanish, desafio).

From a place called Tuaripa, some thirty miles farther south, near the border of the Tepehuane country, and in the same mountainous region, I have the following legend, about the Cocoyomes and the serpents:

Two large serpents used to ascend from the river and go up on the highlands to a little plain between Huerachic and Tuaripa, and they killed and ate the Cocoyomes, returning each time to the river. Whenever they were hungry they used to come up again. At last an old man brought together all the people at the place where the serpents used to ascend. Here they dug a big hole and filled it with wood and with large stones, and made a fire and heated the stones until they became red hot. When the serpents were seen to make their ascent on the mountain-side, the men took hold of the stones with sticks, and threw them into the big, wide-open mouths of the serpents, until the monsters were so full with stones that they burst and fell dead into the river. Even to this day may be seen the marks on the rocks where the serpents used to ascend the mountain-side.

Once having again ascended to the highlands, I found rather level country as far as Guachochic, some forty-five miles off by the track I followed. The name of the place signifies "blue herons," and the fine water-course, which originates in the many springs here, was formerly the abode of many water-birds. The locality thus designated is to-day a cluster of Mexican ranches, most of them belonging to one family. There is an old church, but at present no independent Indians live in Guachochic; the aborigines found about the place are servants of the Mexicans.

Guachochic lies at an elevation of 7,775 feet and at the southern end of a mesa, the largest one in the Sierra Madre del Norte, being twelve miles long and three miles wide. Except on the southern end this plateau is bordered with stately pine forests. Many Indians live on the mesa and in the numerous valleys adjoining it, but they are all "civilised"; that is, contaminated with many Mexico-Christian notions, and have lost their pristine simplicity.

I had a letter of introduction to the principal personage in Guachochic, Don Miguel, who enjoys the rare reputation of being just and helpful toward the Indians; and, being a large land-owner, he is a man of considerable influence also with his fellow-countrymen. To those in need he lends money on liberal terms out of the pile of silver dollars buried under the floor of his house. Robbers know from sad experience that he is not to be trifled with. Once, when a band of marauders had taken possession of the old adobe church and were helping themselves to the buried cash of the inhabitants of the ranches, he rallied the terrorised people, gave the robbers battle and routed them effectually. He upholds authority against lawlessness, and wants justice to have its course, except when one of his own relatives has done the shooting—I was sorry to learn that in this regard he was probably not beyond rebuke; but his many good deeds to the needy and oppressed, whether Mexican or Indian, should make us lenient toward this failing. The Indians appeal to him of their own accord. Three ruffians once went to the house of a well-to-do Indian, recently deceased, and told his mourning relatives that they had come to see to the division of the property among the heirs, and that they must have good things to eat and plenty to drink while thus occupied; calling upon the relatives to brew plenty of beer and kill an ox. Their orders were promptly obeyed; but in addition they charged the heirs a fee of three oxen, one fanega of corn, and some silver money. This struck the simple and patient Indians as rather excessive, for what would then be left to divide between themselves? So they took their grievance to Don Miguel to be settled. I do not know of any white man in those parts who would have taken the trouble, as he did, to protect the poor Indians' rights against the wily schemers.

The old gentleman was not at home when I arrived at his ranch, but I met one of his sons, who lives at Guachochic.

"I am the postmaster," he said proudly, stepping forward and showing me, at the same time, his credentials, which he evidently always carried in his pocket. The mail from the lowlands to the mining towns passes over this place, and the mail-carrier sleeps in this house. In the course of the year he may also bring a few letters to the inhabitants of this part of the country. We soon entered into a conversation about postal matters, which naturally interested me greatly, as I was anxious to communicate as often as possible with the outside world. In spite of the great pride this man took in his office, his notions regarding his duties were rather vague. Being desirous of knowing what was going on among his neighbours, he had no compunction about opening the few letters they got; not that he destroyed them after reading them—he very coolly handed them over opened. The people did not like this, and considered it rather high-handed on his part; but then, what was there for them to do about it?

He said he had heard that I could cure people. When a man is called Doctor, the Mexican peasantry expect him to possess comprehensively all useful knowledge in the world. Looking at me for a moment, this healthy, ruddy-cheeked man suddenly, without saying a word, took hold of my hand and pressed it against his forehead for a little while; then, all the time in silence, he carried it backward until my fingers touched a small excrescence on his back. Now was the chance to find out whatever was the matter with him!

On my next visit to his office he received me with a queer, hesitating expression on his face, and suddenly blurted out, "Can you cut out trousers?" For some time he had had a piece of cloth in his house, and he said he would pay me well if I could help him to have it made into trousers. To cure people, mend watches, repair sewing-machines, make applejack, do tailoring, prognosticate the weather—everything is expected from a man who comes from far away. And the good people here are astonished at a confession of ignorance of such matters, and take it rather personally as a lack of good-will toward them. It is the old belief in the medicine man that still survives in the minds of the people, and they therefore look upon doctors with much greater respect than on other persons.

People who live outside of civilisation are thrown upon their own resources in cases of sickness. The daughter of my Mexican guide was confined and the coming of the afterbirth was delayed. I give here, for curiosity's sake, a list of the various remedies applied in the case:

1. The carapace of the armadillo, ground and taken in a little water. This is a Tarahumare remedy, said to be very effective for the trouble mentioned.

2. The skunkwort (the herb of the skunk).

3. The patient to hold her own hair in her mouth for half an hour.

4. The wood of Palo hediondo, boiled.

5. Urina viri, half a cup. This remedy is also externally used for cuts and bruises.

6. Fresh excrement from a black horse. A small quantity of water is mixed with it, then pressed out through a piece of cloth and taken internally.

7. Perspiration from a black horse. A saddlecloth, after having been used on the horse, is put over the abdomen of the woman.

8. A decoction of the bark of the elm.

9. Pork fat.

After a number of days the patient recovered. Whether it was propter hoc or merely post hoc is a matter of conjecture.

Guachochic served admirably as a central point from which excursions in various directions could be made, as it lies in the very midst of the Tarahumare country. It is true that the Mexicans have appropriated all the best land round about, and their extensive and fertile ranches lie all around Guachochic. Toward the east, in the direction of the pueblos of Tonachic and Lagunitas, the broad strip of good arable and pasture land as far as Parral is owned exclusively by Mexicans.

But in the immediate neighbourhood of Guachochic toward the west and south lie the ridges and barrancas that run toward Sinaloa, and these are inhabited by pagan Tarahumares. Toward the north the Indians hold undisputed sway over that extensive region of mountains, pine-covered plateaus and well-watered arroyos around the pueblos of Norogachic, Pamachic and Nararachic, and here are found the most independent Tarahumares that are left, who still defy the whites to take their land away from them. They are more valiant than the rest and not easily intimidated.

The first thing for me to do, after establishing camp near Guachochic, was to secure strong mules and the necessary men to bring up the outfit that had been left behind in Tasajisa, and after a week's absence they returned with all the animals and goods intact.

Guachochic is an uninteresting place at its best, and at this season it seemed especially dreary, on account of the crop failure from which the sierra had been suffering for the last two years. There is never much to get here, but now even corn and beans could hardly be bought. It was therefore quite a treat to have a square meal with Don Miguel, whose wife was a clever cook, and who, considering all circumstances, kept a fair Mexican table. He could also give me some general information about the Indians; but not only here, but in many other parts of Mexico, I was often astonished at the ignorance of the Mexican settlers concerning the Indians living at their very doors. Aside from certain conspicuous practices, even intelligent Mexicans know little of the customs, much less of the beliefs, of the aborigines. Regarding the pagans in the barrancas, I could get absolutely no information beyond a general depreciation of them as savages, bravos (fierce men) and broncos (wild ones). One Mexican whom I interviewed about certain caves thought that the only thing I could be looking for was the silver possibly hidden in them, and therefore told me that there were 12,000,000 pesos buried in a cave near the mining town Guadalupe y Calvo, waiting to be recovered. Thus it was exceedingly difficult in the beginning to determine just which would be the best way to start my investigations, and all that was left for me to do was to find out for myself where my best field was by making extensive excursions into the domains of the Tarahumare in company with an intelligent interpreter. And there was the rub! There are in this part of the sierra a certain number of men who make a living by dealing with the Indians, and who, having been born and bred in the country, speak the difficult language of the Tarahumares as well as the Indians themselves. But as each man operates in a certain district and has a monopoly of the trade with the Indians within its confines, the temptation to cheat the unsophisticated natives out of their little property is naturally very great, and by far the greater number of the dealers succumb to it. As soon, however, as one of them is found out, he loses his influence with the Indians, and to go with a man of that stamp would have been disastrous to my purpose. The duty of the lenguaraz, as the interpreter is called, is to smooth the traveller's way among the distrustful Indians with skilful words, to get provisions, make bargains, and explain to the Indians the purpose of his visit. Last but not least, he must obtain all possible information from them. This may mean one day's hard work, and the trying of his patience with many apparently futile questions which are made to get at the Indian's real meaning. Thus it may be understood how one is completely at the mercy of one's lenguaraz, and how important it is for the success of an expedition to find the right man. There is nothing else to do but to try and try again, one after another.

The Indians near Guachochic seemed all to be depressed, poor, and hungry. Most of their animals had died from lack of food, and the few that had not succumbed to starvation had to be sold in exchange for corn. A couple of Indians who were on their way to Parral to buy wheat died of starvation before they reached their destination. The Indians ascribed the hard times to the presence of the whites, who had deprived them of their lands as well as of their liberty. The gods, as they put it, were angry with the whites and refused to send rain.

In the summer, especially in July, a false truffle is found on the highlands of Guachochic, which serves as a food to the Indians. It grows abundantly a couple of inches below the ground, raising the earth a little; and is found also under the limb of a fallen tree. The dogs help in finding this fungus, and they are so fond of it that they go of their own accord to look for it. Pigs grow fat on this food, and coyotes, bears, and grey foxes also eat it. It is considered by Professor W. G. Farlow as a variety of Melanogaster variegatus, which he calls Mexicanus. It tastes like an over-ripe pear, with a flavour of onion when one first bites into it. The ordinary Melanogaster variegatus is eaten in Europe, and esteemed for its pleasant taste.

It was disagreeable to travel during the dry season, on account of the difficulty in getting provisions and finding pastures for the animals. But I made up my mind to start under any circumstances on an excursion toward the north-east, knowing that the fresh grass would come up quickly after a few of the thunder-storms not infrequent at that season. Toward the end of June I selected a few of my strongest animals, and, leaving one of my Mexicans to take care of the remainder, started out with two. As luck would have it, a heavy storm drenched our first camp, and afterward the rain seemed almost to pursue me, much to the delight of the Indians I visited, who had been praying and dancing for rain for a long time. One day I had the imposing spectacle of three thunder-storms coming up from different directions. The one in the south sent flashes of lightning out of its mass of dark clouds over the clear sky; but after all, not much rain resulted.

There was no difficulty in finding one's way from Guachochic to Norogachic. At one place I noticed an Indian trail leading up a ridge apparently consisting of volcanic tuff. To facilitate the ascent, steps, now worn and old, had been cut for a distance of a couple of hundred feet. I made my way among the Indian ranches to Norogachic, the residence of the only priest living at present in the Tarahumare country. The name of the place contains an allusion to a certain rock in the vicinity. There is another priest who pays some attention to the Tarahumares, but he lives in Nonoava, and makes only annual visits to baptise infants or marry their elders who wish for the blessings of the Church.



Chapter XI

A Priest and His Family Make the Wilderness Comfortable for Us—Ancient Remains Similar to those Seen in Sonora—The Climate of the Sierra—Flora and Fauna—Tarahumare Agriculture—Ceremonies Connected with the Planting of Corn—Deterioration of Domestic Animals—Native Dogs of Mexico.

Called on the padre and found him to be a very social, nice, energetic-looking person with a tinge of the "red man" in his veins.

He complained to me that the Indians were lazy about coming to mass. None of them paid taxes, and there was no way of forcing them. Nearly all of them he considered heathens, and only about a thousand came to the feasts. They arrive in the village on the evening before, and hear vespers. Then they give themselves up to drinking, and on the feast day proper are not in a condition to go to church.

He thinks there are some great men among the Tarahumares, but that, their mental faculties being entirely uncultivated, they are, as it were, rough diamonds. In the padre's opinion not only all the Indians, but also the Mexicans living' among them, will soon relapse into paganism altogether.

Living under rough conditions as he does, it is a lucky thing for the padre that his physique is equal to emergencies. Once at the neighbouring village of Tonachic (= where there are pillars) he admonished the people, in a powerful sermon, to mend their ways. As they were coming out of the church, a scoundrel who resented the charges attacked him with a stick, but the padre managed to disarm him and gave him such a sound thrashing with his assailant's own weapon that the latter had to keep his bed for a fortnight.

He showed me his stately old adobe church, built in missionary times. The ceiling, however, was infested with myriads of bats, the smell of which was quite sickening, and I was glad to get out again. With him in this uttermost outpost of Christendom lived his aged mother and six sisters, and they treated us with all the hospitality their very limited means permitted. We especially enjoyed their home-made macaroni.

In the family of the good priest lived a little Indian orphan girl, about five years old, as nice and sweet a child as one might wish to see. He was teaching her how to read and write, and she had learned her letters in two months.

The padre, good-natured to officiousness, helped me to get Indians to be photographed, fie also would insist upon arranging them before the camera. His efforts, however, were directed more toward achieving artistic triumph than scientific truth, and he wanted, for instance, to decorate the Indians with peacock feathers. He yielded, however, to my suggestion that turkey feathers would be more appropriate, and straightway ordered one of his turkeys to be caught and deprived of some of its tail feathers. The only way in which I could show my appreciation of the disinterested kindness of the family was by photographing them, too.

It was a new sensation to them, and the ladies asked to have it done next day, as they wanted to arrange their hair and prepare themselves properly.

After them it was the turn of the presidente of the village "to look pleasant," but at this juncture the camera met with an accident. The ring holding the lens broke and fell out. This happening miles away from civilisation was decidedly annoying. But the sisters proved themselves equal to the occasion. Their father having been a tinsmith, they had picked up the trade and had tools; and the ring was soldered on so well that it lasted until I returned to the United States the following year.

Norogachic is situated in the most populous part of the Tarahumare country, and its presidente exercises authority over the large surrounding district. He told me that his municipality counted 4,168 souls, among them about 300 Mexicans. With the help of a very intelligent Mexican I made a rough calculation of the number of Indians belonging to Tonachic and Guachochic, next neighbours of Norogachic, and estimated in the former 350, and in the latter 250 families. Counting each family as consisting of eight members, this would give us a population of 4,800. Thus the most populous part of the Tarahumare country, including the three municipalities of Norogachic, Tonachic, and Guachochic, would contain a population of about 8,500 Indians,

As the presidente of Norogachic is an honourable man and speaks the native language, he exercised great influence over them, and on one occasion, when they had gathered in large numbers and threatened to avenge some abuse, he was able to avert disaster. Nature had endowed him with the doubtful blessing of bloodshot eyes, a feature generally attributed to powerful sorcerers, and this was perhaps more a point in his favour than otherwise with the Indians.

One day he took us to the top of a hill where there were some stones set in circles, about one foot above and half a foot under the ground. They reminded us of similar stone arrangements we had come upon in Sonora, but these were larger and more primitive. Altogether there were nine circles, varying in size from nine to thirteen feet in diameter. One, however, measured only five feet across, and the stones forming it were fully two feet above the ground. Close by was another similar small circle, and some little distance off still another. On a small mesa I found a flint arrow-point. There were also some potsherds there, but of the same kind as those used by the people of to-day.

The natives rightly count only three seasons—the dry, the rainy, and the winter. The first lasts from March till June, and is very warm and windy. Throughout July and August one can generally count on thunder-storms and heavy rains, while the mornings are bright. The rains then rarely extend over a large territory, but are confined to local showers, a circumstance very annoying to the agricultural inhabitants, who often see dark clouds rolling up, apparently full of moisture, yet resulting in nothing but gusts of wind. A ridge may change the course of the clouds. Sometimes one valley may be flooded with rain, while not far away the heat is drying up everything. During September and October more constant rains occur, and may last more or less for a week at a time.

In the beginning of the wet season (July and August) the rains come from the south-west, but later on north-eastern winds bring rain. In winter there are constant winds from the south-east to the north, somewhat trying until one gets used to them. Snow is by no means unknown, and Indians have been known to freeze to death when caught out intoxicated.

The climate in the sierra, although not so pleasant on account of the constant winds, is extremely salubrious, the heat never exceeding 97 deg. F., while the nights are deliciously cool. Lung diseases are here unknown. When I asked an old American doctor in Guadalupe y Calvo about his experience in regard to the health of the people, he said, "Well, here in the mountains they are distressingly healthy. Despite a complete defiance of every sanitary arrangement, with the graveyards, the sewers, and a tannery at the river's edge, no diseases originate here. When cholera reached the mountains some years ago, nobody died from it. The people simply took a bath in Mexican fashion, and recovered." Down in the barrancas, however, where the heat often becomes excessive, the climate is far from healthy, and I have seen even Indians ill with fever and ague, contracted generally during the rainy season.

Between these two extremes, on the slopes of the sierra, toward the warm country, at an elevation of 5,000 feet, I found the most delightful climate I ever knew. It was like eternal spring, the air pure and the temperature remarkably even. There is a story of a Mexican woman, who, settling in this part of the country, broke her thermometer because the mercury never moved and she therefore concluded that it was out of order. The pleasantness of the climate struck me particularly on one occasion, after a prolonged stay in the invigorating though windy climate of the sierra. I had caught a cold the night before, and was not feeling very well as I dozed on the back of my mule while it worked its way down the mountain-side, but the sleep and the delightful balmy air made me soon feel well again. At times a mild zephyr played around us, but invariably died out about sunset. The night was delightfully calm, toward morning turning slightly cooler, and there was nothing to disturb my sleep under a big fig-tree but the bits of figs that were thrown down by the multitudes of bats in its branches. They were gorging themselves on the fruit, just as we had done the afternoon before.

Journeying on the pine-clad highlands, the traveller finds nothing to remind him that he is in the southern latitudes, except an occasional glimpse of an agave between rocks and the fantastic cacti, which, although so characteristic of Mexican vegetation, are comparatively scarce in the high sierra. The nopal cactus, whose juicy fruit, called tuna, and flat leaf-like joints are an important article of food among the Indians, is found here and there, and is often planted near the dwellings of the natives. There are also a few species of Echinocactus and Mammilaria, but on the whole the cacti form no conspicuous feature in the higher altitudes of the sierra.

Along the streamlets which may be found in the numerous small valleys we met with the slender ash trees, beside alders, shrubs, Euonymus with brilliant red capsules, willows, etc. Conspicuous in the landscape was still the madrona, with its pretty, strawberry-like, edible berries.

Flowers on the whole are not abundant in the sierra. The modest yellow Mimulus along the water-courses is the first to come and the last to go. Various forms of columbine (Aquilegia) and meadow rue (Thalictrum) should also be remembered. In August and September I have seen the sloping hills of the sierra north-west of the pueblo of Panalachic (Banalachic; banala = face, i. e., the outline of a prominent rock near by), covered with large crimson flowers, and also certain yellow ones, called baguis, making the country appear like a garden. I noticed in the same locality two kinds of lovely lilies, one yellow and one containing a single large red flower. The Tarahumare have names for all these plants.

Before all, however, should be mentioned the carmine-red Amaryllis. Like the crocus and the snowdrops of northern climates it appears before the grass is green. It is a perfect treat to the eye to meet now and then in this dry and sandy country, and at such a chilly elevation, this exquisitely beautiful flower, which is here appreciated only by the humming-birds. Edible plants, species of Mentha, Chenopodium, Cirsium, for instance, and the common water-cress, are, at a certain time of the year, numerous; but fruits and berries are rare, blackberries being the most common ones.

Animal life is not particularly plentiful in the sierra. Still, deer, bears, and mountain lions are fairly common, and there are many kinds of squirrels and rats. The jaguar (felis onza) is found now and then on the summits of the barrancas. Eagles, hawks, turkeys, blackbirds, and crows are the most noticeable birds. The turkey is called by the Tarahumares, tshivi; by the Mexicans of the sierra of Chihuahua, guajolote; while farther south he is designated cocono. Now and then the brilliant green trogon is met with.

There are many species of woodpeckers, all familiar to and named by the Tarahumares. The giant woodpecker is seen in the more remote parts, but it is on the point of being exterminated, because the Tarahumares consider his one or two young such a delicacy that they do not hesitate to cut down even large trees to get at the nests. The Mexicans shoot them because their plumage is thought to be beneficial to health. It is held close to the ears and the head in order to impart its supposed magnetism and keep out the maleficent effects of the wind. In the pairing season these birds keep up a chattering noise, which to my ears was far from disagreeable, but very irritating to a Mexican whom I employed. He used to shoot the birds because they annoyed him.

Corn is the most important agricultural product of the Tarahumares. The average crop of a family may be estimated at six or twelve fanegas. One exceptionally rich Tarahumare, now dead, is said to have raised as much as four hundred fanegas a year, but this was a fact unique in the history of the tribe. The people also raise beans, squashes, chile, and tobacco, all on an exceedingly small scale. On the highlands, the primitive plough already described (page 121) is still used sometimes, though it is rapidly being superseded by ploughs of Mexican pattern. In the arroyos and barrancas, where the condition of the land makes ploughing impossible, the Indians use the ancient mode of agriculture, still in vogue among remote natives of Mexico and called coamillar. They cut down the trees, clear a piece of land from brushwood, and leave it in this condition until just before the wet season sets in. Then they burn the wood, which by that time is well dried up, and plant the corn in the ashes. They simply make a hole in the earth with a stick, drop a few grains of corn into it, and close it up with the foot. Of the usual number of grains I am not aware. The Tepehuanes use four. Their hoes are generally bought from the Mexicans or else home-made, the natural knotted growths of tree limbs being utilised. Women never assist in ploughing, though they may be seen helping in the fields with the weeding and hoeing, and even with the harvesting.

In the sierra a piece of land may yield good crops for three years in succession without manure, but in the broad mountain valleys and on the mesas a family can use the same field year after year for twenty or thirty seasons. On the other hand, down in the barrancas, a field cannot be used more than two years in succession, because the corn-plants in that time are already suffocated with weeds. The planting is done from the middle of April to the first week in July, and the harvest begins about the first week in October and lasts until the beginning of December.

Communal principles prevail in clearing the fields, in ploughing—each furrow in a field is ploughed by a different man—in corn planting, in hoeing, weeding, harvesting, gathering wood for feasts, in fishing and in hunting.

If a man wants to have his field attended to, the first thing he has to do is to prepare a good quantity of the national stimulant, a kind of beer called tesvino. The more of this he has, the larger the piece of land he can cultivate, for the only payment his helpers expect and receive is tesvino.

The master of the house and his sons always do first one day's work alone, before their friends and neighbours come to help them. Then they begin in earnest to clear the field of stones, carrying them in their arms or blankets, and cut down the brushwood. Tesvino is brought out into the field, and iskiate, and the men, all very much under the influence of the liquor, work with the animation of a heap of disturbed ants.

When the work of hoeing and weeding is finished, the workers seize the master of the field, and, tying his arms crosswise behind him, load all the implements, that is to say, the hoes, upon his back, fastening them with ropes. Then they form two single columns, the landlord in the middle between them, and all facing the house. Thus they start homeward. Simultaneously the two men at the heads of the columns begin to run rapidly forward some thirty yards, cross each other, then turn back, run along the two columns, cross each other again at the rear and take their places each at the end of his row. As they pass each other ahead and ill the rear of the columns they beat their mouths with the hollow of their hands and yell. As soon as they reach their places at the foot, the next pair in front of the columns starts off, running in the same way, and thus pair after pair performs the tour, the procession all the time advancing toward the house.

A short distance in front of it they come to a halt, and are met by two young men who carry red handkerchiefs tied to sticks like flags. The father of the family, still tied up and loaded with the hoes, steps forward alone and kneels down in front of his house-door. The flag-bearers wave their banners over him, and the women of the household come out and kneel on their left knees, first toward the east, and after a little while toward each of the other cardinal points, west, south, and north.

In conclusion the flags are waved in front of the house. The father then rises and the people untie him, whereupon he first salutes the women with the usual greeting, "Kwira!" or "Kwireva!" Now they all go into the house, and the man makes a short speech thanking them all for the assistance they have given him, for how could he have gotten through his work without them? They have provided him with a year's life (that is, with the wherewithal to sustain it), and now he is going to give them tesvino. He gives a drinking-gourd full to each one in the assembly, and appoints one man among them to distribute more to all.

The same ceremony is performed after the ploughing and after the harvesting. On the first occasion the tied man may be made to carry the yoke of the oxen, on the second he does not carry anything.

The southern Tarahumares, as well as the northern Tepehuanes, at harvest time, tie together some ears of corn by the husks, two and two. The ears are selected from plants which have at least three or four ears, and after a while tesvino is made from them. At the harvesting feast, the stalks of these plants are strewn on the ground, as well as stalks of squash plants, and over them the people dance kuvala.

The Tarahumare takes good care of his domestic animals and never kills one of them, unless it be for a sacrifice. Sheep and goats are kept at night in enclosures or caves. The shepherd follows his flock wherever the animals choose to find their food, and there are no better herdsmen than the Tarahumares, who wisely trust to the natural instinct of the beasts. They do not pride themselves on breeds. It is astonishing to notice the number of rams with two pairs of horns among the tribe. In every flock two or three specimens may be observed, one pair bending forward, the other to the side. I have seen some with three pairs of horns. Near Nonoava, where the Indians are much Mexicanised, they make butter and cheese, using the rennets from the cow, sheep, and deer, but they do not drink the milk, saying that it makes them stupid, and they are watchful to prevent their children from drinking it. Dogs are not much liked except for hunting. A great number of them hang around the houses, but they have to make their own living as best they can. They are of the same mongrel class found everywhere among the Indians of to-day. They are generally of a brownish color and not large, but some of them are yellow and with ears erect.

The so-called dogs of Chihuahua, which command quite a price among dog-fanciers, are found only in the capital of the state. They are small pet dogs and very timid, with large ears and prominent eyes. I understand that the yellowish-brown are considered the purest breed, but they are found in many different colors, from snow-white and black-and-white to dark-brown. They are said to have a small cavity on the top of the head, though according to some authorities this is not an unfailing mark of the breed, which seems to be indigenous. The illiterate Mexican, in his tendency to connect everything good with Montezuma, thinks that the pure dogs of Chihuahua are descendants of those which were left behind by that regent near Casas Grandes at the time when he started south, which afterward became wild and degenerated into the prairie-dogs of to-day.

Another dog indigenous to Mexico is the hairless dog, also a pet, found throughout the republic among the Mexicans. It is credited with possessing curative properties, for which reason people keep them in their beds with them at night.



Chapter XII

The Tarahumares Still Afraid of Me—Don Andres Madrid to the Rescue—Mexican Robbers Among the Tarahumares—Mode of Burial in Ancient Caves—Visit to Nonoava—The Indians Change their Minds about Me, and Regard Me as a Rain-god—What the Tarahumares Eat—A Pretty Church in the Wilderness—I Find at Last a Reliable Interpreter and Proceed to Live a l'Indienne.

As I travelled along I found the natives unobliging and afraid of me. One man who had hid himself, but was after a while forced to reappear, bluntly asked, "Are you not the man who kills the fat girls and the children?" At another time I was taken for Pedro Chaparro, the famous robber, who had notoriously deceived the Indians. The guide took only a half-hearted interest in me, as he feared that by being seen with me he was ruining his trade with the natives, who were especially suspicious about my writing in my note-book, taking it as a proof of my design to take their land away from them. Still, I accomplished a good deal and made interesting observations, though the difficulties under which I had to labour were quite exasperating.

It was a positive relief, when in the beginning of August, six weeks after my start from Guachochic, I arrived at Guajochic (guajo = sancudo, a small mosquito), one of the stations where the bullion trains stop on their travels between Batopilas and Carichic. The man then in charge of this rather lonely looking place, Andres Madrid, turned out to be very interesting. Born of Tarahumare parents, in the town of Carichic, he had received quite a liberal Mexican education and was virtually a Mexican, though in hearty sympathy with his native tribe. His grandfather had been a noted shaman, or medicine man, whom Don Andres, as a boy, had accompanied on his travels. He was intelligent, lively and imaginative, of a strong humourous vein, and very entertaining. Generous in giving information about the Indians, and speaking the native language, he would have made an ideal interpreter, except for the fact that he grew tired too easily. Only by piecemeal and when having an abundance of time could an ethnologist expect to take advantage of his accomplishments. As he was honest, and helpful to the Indians, and besides was a representative of the Mexican authorities, the Indians had unlimited respect, nay, adoration, for him.

Knowing all that happens in the sierra, he had already heard of me some time ago, and laughed at the cannibalistic propensities attributed to me. He immediately sent a messenger to el capitan at Nararachic, to advise him of my arrival, and to request him to tell the Indians to present themselves to be photographed by a man who came from Porfirio Diaz, a name to conjure with in Mexico, who wanted to know all about the Tarahumares. Nararachic is an insignificant pueblo, to which the Indians of this locality belong. The name means "where one was weeping."

Being taken under the wing of Don Andres benefitted me in many ways. When the Indians from the hills all around could see my white tent close by his little home, they understood that I could not be so bad, or else the good Don Andres would not have anything to do with me.

The Indians in the vicinity had recently gone through the sensation of fighting with four real robbers, who had several times succeeded in plundering store-houses while the owners were off at some feast. At last the Indians had caught them. The thieves travelled on foot, but had a pack-horse which carried all the blankets and handkerchiefs stolen, the total value of which ran up to $112. Sixty-five Tarahumares had banded together in the course of four or five hours, and obliged the robbers to take refuge in a cave, from which they defended themselves with rifles for several hours. The Tarahumares first threw stones at them, as they did not want to waste their arrows. Finally Don Andres, who had been sent for, arrived at the place, and induced the robbers to surrender; but only with difficulty could he prevent the Tarahumares from attacking them. "What does it matter," they said, "if one or two of us are killed?" Cowards as the Tarahumares are when few in number, they do not know fear when many of them are together. They are harmless when not interfered with, but neither forget nor forgive an injury. On several occasions they have killed white men who abused their hospitality, and they even threatened once, when exasperated by abuses, to exterminate all the whites in some sections of their domain.

The robbers were taken by an escort of Indians to the little town of Carichic, and from there sent to Cusihuiriachic ("where upright pole is") to be tried. This place is about a hundred miles from Nararachic, and as the Indians during the next weeks were called to be present at the trial as witnesses, it annoyed them not a little. They were sorry they had not killed the evil-doers; and it would even have been better, they said, to have let them go on stealing.

In the fight the gobernador had got a bullet through his lung. I saw him a fortnight afterward, smoking a cigarette and on the way to recovery, and after some days he, too, walked to Cusihuiriachic. A few months later the robbers managed to dig themselves out of the prison.

On an excursion of about ten miles through the picturesque Arroyo de las Iglesias, I passed seventeen caves, of which only one was at present inhabited. All of them, however, had been utilised as dwellings before the construction of the road to Batopilas had driven the Indians off.

I saw also a few ancient cave-dwellings. Of considerable interest were some burial-caves near Nararachic, especially one called Narajerachic (= where the dead are dancing). A Mexican had been for six years engaged there in digging out saltpetre, with which he made powder, and the cave was much spoiled for research when I visited it. But I was able to take away some thirty well-preserved skulls and a few complete skeletons, the bodies having dried up in the saltpetre. Some clothing with feathers woven in, and some bits of obsidian and of blue thread were found, but no weapons or utensils. According to the miner, who appeared to be trustworthy, he had excavated more than a hundred corpses. They were generally found two and a half feet below the surface, and sometimes there were others underneath these. With many of them he found ear ornaments made of shells, such as the Tarahumares of to-day use, besides some textile made of plant fibre, and a jar with beans.

A few months later at Aboreachic (Tarahumare: Aoreachic = where there is mountain cedar) I examined a burial-cave in which the dead were interred in a different manner from that described before. The cave is somewhat difficult of access. The ascent of 300 feet has to be made over a track at some places so steep that holes have been cut for the feet, to enable a person to climb up. On reaching the top I found a spacious cave, which had been used as a kind of cemetery, but unfortunately the peculiarity of the cave had attracted treasure-seekers, whose destructive work was everywhere to be seen. Still I could see that the corpses had been placed each by itself in a grave in the floor of the cave. The graves were oblong or circular basins lined with a coating of grass and mud and about three feet deep. Apparently no earth had been placed immediately over the body, only boards all around it laid lengthwise in a kind of box. The bodies were bent up and laid on their sides. Over the top boards was spread a layer of pine bark about an inch thick, which in turn was covered with earth and rubbish three inches deep, and this was overlaid with the coating of grass and mud so as to form a solid disk four or five inches, thick. The edge of the basin was slightly raised, thus making the disk a little higher than the level of the floor. I secured four skulls from here, besides a piece of excellently woven cloth of plant fibre, another piece interwoven with turkey feathers, and a fragment of a wooden needle.

Don Andres told me that he had observed similar modes of burial in the neighbourhood of Nararachic. It may be worth mentioning that the miner who excavated in the burial-cave near Nararachic mentioned above, told me of having met with somewhat similar structures in his cave; the material was the same, but they were of different sizes, not larger than two feet, and he found them empty.

The ancient modes of burial that I have come upon, in the Tarahumare country are either like those in Nararachic or in Aboreachic. There scarcely seems any doubt that the bodies buried here were Tarahumares. The Indians of to-day consider the dead in the ancient burial-caves their brethren, and call them Ana-yauli, the ancients.

From Guajochic I went to Nonoava (in Tarahumare: Nonoa, nono = father), although this town is outside of the Tarahumare country proper. The natives here, as may be expected, are pretty well Mexicanised, and losing their customs, religion, and language. The Apache raids were well remembered here, as they were in Carichic, Cusarare, and Bocoyna.

I came upon a Mexican here who had married a Tarahumare woman. His predilection for her tribe was also attested by his dress, which was exactly like that worn by the natives. He had a dark, almost swarthy complexion, but otherwise he did not resemble an Indian. His big; stomach and short arms and legs betrayed his real race, and contrasted strangely with the slender limbs and graceful movements of the Tarahumares.

Near Nonoava I photographed a magnificent fig-tree of the kind called beyota, the fruit of which is appreciated even by the Mexicans. It was 116 feet across, and the leaves, as in other trees of the species, were very small. There are larger trees of this kind to be found, but they are rare. In the wet season, when the figs are ripe, the Tarahumares have a habit of singing under the trees while gathering the fruit.

I noticed some beautiful mezquites in the bed of a creek, the bottom of which was clayish. Although the season for it was late, Indians were gathering the fruit. The proper season is before the rain sets in. The Indians throw the seeds away, but boil the fruit, grinding it between stones and mixing it with water. This drink is also used through Sonora and Chihuahua by the Mexicans.

On my return I again spent some time in Guajochic. The Indians came to visit me every day, and following my rule of giving to every visitor something to eat, I was making satisfactory progress in cultivating their friendship. Some of them after eating from my plates and cups, went to the river to rinse their mouths and wash their hands carefully, to get rid of any evil that might lurk in the white man's implements. To be generous is the first step toward gaining the confidence of both the Indians and the Mexicans, and a gift of food is more eloquent than a long speech. The Indian, however, before he knows you, always wants to see you eat first.

I interviewed many of the shamans, and began to gain some little knowledge of their songs, which helped to bring me nearer to them. Shortly after my first arrival here it happened that rain fell, and precipitations continued quite frequently during my stay. The Indians, who are intensely interested in rain, to obtain which they make so many exertions and sacrifices, evidently began to connect my presence with it. Before my departure they confided to Don Andres that "It was no good that that man went away; it might happen that he carried the rain with him." They even seemed to delight now in posing before my mysterious camera, which they imagined to be a powerful rain-maker. I heard no more excuses for not wanting to be photographed. They no longer told me that it would cause their death, and that their god would be angry with them; nor was there any more of that unwillingness expressed by one Indian who told me that, inasmuch as he did not owe me anything, he did not want to be photographed. Thus, almost without knowing it, I established friendly relations with the people.

However, it must not be thought that all my troubles were ended yet. The Indians are very clannish, and, although my damaged prestige was now almost restored, and, no doubt, favourable rumours heralded me wherever I went, still the good-will of each district had in a way to be won. Many months later, when I found myself among the pagans farther south, I was interpellated quite persistently on the subject of the skulls in Yoquibo. They wanted to know why I had dug them up. My Mexican interpreter, whom they took to task on the subject, advanced an explanation, which was no doubt strictly in accordance with his best knowledge and belief. He declared that my object had been to find out whether those people had been properly baptised—a reason which apparently perfectly satisfied the Indians.

I travelled in a southeasterly direction, making my way back to Guachochic, over the highlands of Humarisa (humashi = to run). This locality is of considerable elevation, with the Indian ranches lying about here and there on strips of level land, which run in among the rocky hills like fjords. Bears are quite common here, and the Indians have difficulty in guarding their fields against them. They are not even to be frightened by stones, and at night they will eat corn until they have enough, and then walk away.

The time of the year in which it is most difficult for the Indians to subsist had passed, and the copious rains of the past months had developed ears of corn. Rarely or never do the Indians plant corn enough to last them all the year round, and they have, therefore, during the summer to depend for support mainly on herbs, roots, fruits, etc. The leaves and flowers of the ash-tree are cooked and eaten, and the flowers of the pine-tree. They never suffer from hunger when living near a river, where they can fish, but in the highlands they have been known to die of starvation.

These natives are fonder of corn than of any other food, and when working for the whites would leave without a word if no more corn or flour were forthcoming. They like, too, to have meat every day, though they cannot always get it. They rarely, if ever, kill any of their domestic animals for food, as, according to their views, man is only the manager for the gods to whom these creatures really belong, and cows, sheep, and the like can be killed only as sacrifices and eaten at the feasts. But any kind of animal in the forest and field, in the air and the water, is acceptable. I once asked a strong and healthy-looking Indian how he managed to keep in such good condition, when food was so scarce, and he said that he ate meat, "What kind of meat?" I asked, and he replied, "Mice, gophers, and small birds." Their favourite meat, however, is deer, mice, and skunks.

Chunks of meat are simply laid upon the coals to roast, or turned before the fire on a wooden spit, the ends of which rest on stones. This, by the way, is the universal method of cooking meat in Mexico. These Indians often eat their meat almost raw, nor have they any repugnance to blood, but boil and eat it. Fish and frogs are broiled by being placed between two thin sticks tied together at the ends to do duty as a gridiron.

The flowers of the maize are dried in the sun, ground and mixed with water; if not required for immediate consumption they are put in jars and kept for the winter. Many herbs are very palatable, as, for instance, the makvasari (of the Crucifercae), which is also kept for winter use after having been properly dried. In the autumn the Indians sometimes eat potatoes, which, when cultivated at all, are planted between the corn, but grow no larger than pigeon eggs. The people eat three kinds of fungi, and they have an extensive knowledge of the poisonous ones. Salt and chile are used as relishes.

A peculiar delicacy is ari, the secretion of a scale insect, carteria mexcicana. In the months of July and August it is gathered from the branches of certain trees in the barrancas, rolled by hand into thick brown sticks, and thus preserved for the winter. A small portion is boiled in water and eaten as a sauce with the corn porridge. Its taste is sweetish acid, not particularly pleasant to the palate, but very refreshing in effect, and it is said to be efficacious in allaying fever. The Indians prize it highly, and the Mexicans also buy it.

Just a few miles before reaching Guachochic, one passes the pueblo of Tonachic, from whence the Indians have been more or less driven off by the whites. In missionary times the village appears to have been of some importance, to judge from the church, which is quite pretty, considering its location in the middle of the sierra. In the sacristy I saw lying about three empty cases, but the silver crucifixes and chalices they once contained had been carried off by Mexican thieves. The man in charge of the building showed me three immense drawers full of gold- and silver-embroidered silken robes of exquisite fineness and great variety. There were at least several dozens of them.

The altar-piece was arranged and painted very tastefully in red and gold. Several oil paintings were hanging in the church, but so darkened by the hand of time that it was impossible to make out whether they were of any artistic merit. Wonderful men those early missionaries, who brought such valuables into this wilderness, over hundreds and thousands of miles, on the backs of mules or Indians. It was rather anomalous to see the poor, naked Indians outside the door, for whose benefit all this had been done. A woman was sweeping away the dirt from the swarms of bats that nested in the ceiling.

The richest and most prominent man in the village enjoyed the reputation of being a great ladron. When I called on him I found him in bed suffering from a tooth-ache. He had his head wrapped up and was completely unnerved, and many people came to sympathise with him in his affliction. When I told him that I liked the Tarahumares, he answered, "Well, take them with you, every one of them." All he cared for was their land, and he had already acquired a considerable portion of it. His wife was the only person in the village who knew how to recite the prayers in the church. This made the husband feel proud of her, and he evidently considered her piety great enough to suffice for the family.

On my return to Guachochic I discharged the Mexicans who had been with me since my travels through Sonora; they were here of little use to me, as they did not know the country. I also disposed of the greater number of my mules, keeping only about half a dozen.

With the kind permission of Don Miguel I installed most of my baggage in one of his houses, and considered his ranch a kind of headquarters from which I made several long excursions in various directions. Thanks to my pack and riding mules I could take along, as barter, corn, glass beads, tobacco, and cotton cloth, and bring back collections made on the road. I was accompanied by a couple of Mexicans from this part of the country and some Indians who acted as carriers. Of course, whenever I went down into the barrancas, I had to leave my mules and cargo in some safe place on the highlands and take along only the most necessary stores as we proceeded on foot. On such trips I had to depend entirely on the natives; they secured the food, and selected the cave or rock shelter, or the tree under which we slept.

Our bill of fare was made up mainly of corn and beans, with an occasional sheep or goat, and some herbs and roots as relishes. Corn was prepared in the styles known to the Indians, either as corn-cakes (tortillas) or, more often, by simply toasting the grains on a piece of crockery over the fire. The dish is easy enough to prepare and does not taste at all bad, but it is hard work for one's teeth to make a meal of it, as the kernels assume the consistency of little pebbles, and many months of such a diet lengthens your dentist's bill at about the same ratio as that in which it shortens your molars. You will ask why I did not carry provisions along with me. Simply because preserved food is, as a rule, heavy to carry, to say nothing of its being next to impossible to secure more when the supply is exhausted. Some chocolate and condensed milk which I ordered from Chihuahua did not reach me until seven months after the date of the order. Besides, the Indians are not complaisant carriers, least of all in this exceedingly rough country.

For over a year I thus continued to travel around among the Tarahumares, visiting them on their ranches and in their caves, on the highlands and in the barrancas. There are few valleys into which I did not go in this central part of the Tarahumare country, that is, from the Barranca de Batopilas and Carichic in the north toward the regions of the mining place Guadalupe y Calvo in the south. By and by I also found a suitable lenguaraz, Don Nabor, who lived a day's journey from Guachochic. He was a tall, lank, healthy-looking fellow, some fifty years old, very poor and blessed with a large family of sons and daughters, some of them full grown. All his life he had been intimate with the Indians; he spoke their language as well as he did Spanish, and really liked the Tarahumares better than his fellow Mexicans. Being a great hunter but a poor shot he brought home but little game, and made his living chiefly by trading with the Indians. He was the picture of good-nature, laughing with the Indians at their jokes, and weeping with them at their sorrows. Among them he passed as a wit, and being very honest was a general favourite. He never took anything without asking, but was not backward about that. Of his teeth he had hardly any but two of his upper incisors left, which was rather hard for a man of his ravenous appetite; but he utilised them with such squirrel-like dexterity as almost to keep pace with others.



Chapter XIII

The Tarahumare Physique—Bodily Movements—Not as Sensitive to Pain as White Men—Their Phenomenal Endurance—Health—Honesty—Dexterity and Ingenuity—Good Observers of the Celestial Bodies and Weather-forecasters—Hunting and Shooting—Home Industries—Tesvino, the Great National Drink of the Tribe—Other Alcoholic Drinks.

The Tarahumare of to-day is of medium size and more muscular than his North American cousin, but his cheek-bones are equally prominent. His colour is light chocolate-brown. I was rather surprised often to find the faces of the people living in the warm barrancas of a lighter colour than the rest of their bodies. The darkest complexions, strange to say, I encountered on the highlands near Guachochic. In the higher altitudes the people also develop higher statures and are more muscular than in the lower portions of the country.

Both men and women wear long, flowing, straight black hair, which in rare cases is a little wavy. When a woman marries, I am told, she cuts her hair once. When the hair is cut because it has grown too long and troublesome, they place it under a stone or hang it in a tree. A shaman once cut his hair short to get new thoughts with the new hair, and while it was growing he kept his head tied up in a piece of cotton cloth to keep his thoughts from escaping. When the people are very old, the hair turns gray; but they never grow bald. Beards are rare, and if they appear the Indians pull them out. Their devil is always represented with a beard, and they call the Mexicans derisively shabotshi, "the bearded ones." Much as they enjoy tobacco, an Indian would not accept some from me, because he feared that coming from a white man it would cause a beard to grow on his face.

There are more women in the tribe than men. They are smaller, but generally just as strong as the other sex, and when angered, for instance by jealousy, the wife may be able to beat her husband. Hands and feet are small. Many of the women have surprisingly small and well-shaped bones, while the men are more powerfully built. The corner teeth differ from the front teeth in that they are thicker, and, in spite of exceptionally fine teeth, tooth-ache is not unknown in the tribe. Men, even those who are well nourished, are never stout. The women are more inclined to corpulency.

Eight people with hair-lip, seven hunchbacks, six men and four women with six toes to their feet, and one or two cases of squint-eyes came under my notice. One boy had a club-foot with toes turned inside, and I saw one man who had only stumps of arms with two or three finger-marks on each. I have observed one case of insanity among these Indians.

Pediculi (lice) from the heads and clothing of the Tarahumare are blackish in colour, but the claw is not different from that of the white men's parasites.

When at ease, the Tarahumare stands on both legs, without stiffness. In micturition he stands, while the Tepehuane sits down. The body is well balanced. The gait is energetic. He swings his arm and plants his foot firmly, with the toes generally in, gliding along smoothly with quick steps and without swaying to and fro, the body bent slightly forward. The palm of the hand is turned to the rear. Tarahumares climb trees by embracing the tree as we do; but the ascent is made in jumps, the legs accordingly not embracing the tree as, much as is the case with us. In swimming they throw their arms ahead from one side to another. They point with the open hand or by protruding the lips and raising the head at the same time in the desired direction. Like the Mexicans they beckon with their hands by making downward movements with their fingers.

To the casual observer the native appears dull and heavy, so much so that at first it would seem hopeless to get any intelligent information out of him; but on better acquaintance it will be found that their faces, like those of Mexican Indians in general, have more variety of feature and expression than those of the whites. At the same time it is true that the individual does not show his emotion very perceptibly in his face. One has to look into his eyes for an expression of what passes in his mind, as his face is not mobile; nor does he betray his feelings by involuntary actions. If he blushes, as he sometimes does, the colour extends down the neck and is visible in spite of his dusky skin. Laughter is never immoderate enough to bring tears to the eyes. The head is nodded vertically in affirmation and shaken laterally in negation only by the civilised Tarahumares.

There is a slight though undefinable odour about the Tarahumare. He is not aware of it; yet he will tell you that the Mexican smells like a pig, and the American like coffee, both offensive odours to Tarahumares. They all love to feel warm, and may often be seen lying in the sun on their backs or stomachs. Heat never seems to trouble them. Young babies sleep on their mothers' backs without any covering on their heads to protect them from the fierce rays of the summer sun. On the other hand, the Tarahumare endures cold unflinchingly. On an icy winter morning, when there are six inches of snow on the ground, many a man may be seen with nothing on but his blanket fastened around his waist, pursuing rabbits.

While their senses are keen, I do not consider them superior to those of any well-endowed white man. To test eyesight, Sir Francis Galton directs us to cut out a square piece of white paper one and a half inches a side, paste it on a large piece of black paper, and mark how far a person can distinguish whether the square is held straight or diagonally. None of the Indians could distinguish the different positions until they were within seven hundred and ten feet. On another occasion, however, when I tested six individuals, four men could tell the position of the square at a distance of nine hundred and five feet. One of these had syphilis. They certainly do not feel pain in the same degree as we do. On this point any collector of hair could have reason to satisfy himself. Scientists consider the hair a particularly distinguishing feature among the races of men, not only in regard to its colour, but also as to its texture. In fact, the human race is by some classified according to the character of the hair of the head. Compared under the microscope a section of the hair of a Chinaman or an American Indian is found to be circular, that of a European oval in shape. As a rule, the flatter the hair the more readily it curls, the perfectly cylindrical hair hanging down stiff and straight. A section of the straight hair of a Japanese, for instance, forms a perfect circle. So much importance being attached to the structure of the hair, I made a collection from different individuals. They were willing enough to let me have all the samples I wanted for a material consideration, of course, but the indifferent manner in which they pulled the hair from their heads, just as we should tear out hairs from the tail of a horse, convinced me that inferior races feel pain to a less extent than civilised man. I once pulled six hairs at a time from the head of a sleeping child without disturbing it at all; I asked for more, and when twenty-three hairs were pulled out in one stroke, the child only scratched its head a little and slept on.

They are not so powerful at lifting as they are in carrying burdens. Out of twelve natives, ten of whom were eighteen and twenty years old, while two owned to fifty years, five lifted a burden weighing 226 2/5 pounds (102 kilograms). I was able to lift this myself. The same five lifted 288 3/5 pounds (130 kilograms), as also did two strong Mexicans present, aged respectively eighteen and thirty years. In order to test their carrying capacity, I had them walk for a distance of 500 feet on a pretty even track. One very poor and starved-looking Tarahumare carried 226 2/5 pounds (102 kilograms) on his back, though tottering along with some difficulty; two others carried it with ease, and might have taken it farther. All three were young men.

Their endurance is truly phenomenal. A strong young man carried a burden of over 100 pounds from Carichic to Batopilas, a distance of about 110 miles, in seventy hours. While travelling with such burdens they eat nothing but pinole, a little at frequent intervals.

The wonderful health these people enjoy is really their most attractive trait. They are healthy and look it. It could hardly be otherwise in this delightful mountain air, laden with the invigorating odour of the pines combined with the electrifying effect of being close to nature's heart. In the highlands, where the people live longer than in the barrancas, it is not infrequent to meet persons who are at least a hundred years old. Long life is what they all pray for.

They suffer sometimes from rheumatism, but the most common disease is pleurisy (dolor de costado), which generally proves fatal. Syphilis rages in some parts of the country. There was at the time of my visit to Pino Gordo hardly a native there who had not, at one time or another, been afflicted with it; but the victims get quickly over it without special treatment, sometimes within a year. Children of syphilitic parents show the symptoms soon after birth. Small-pox, too, plays havoc among the population. I have seen some people suffering with cataract in the eyes, and some foot-runners complained that their sight sometimes became impaired during or after a race. The Tarahumares have not any cases of tape-worm, although their sheep have it; probably the large quantities of tesvino drunk during the winter may have something to do with this.

Medicine takes remarkably strong hold of the Indians. One man suffered for two weeks from fever and ague, lost his appetite, and seemed a general wreck; but after a two-grain quinine pill became at once himself again, and a few days later was able to take a message for me to a place forty miles off and return the same day.

The natives do not bathe except in the wet season. When they go to feasts, they wash their hands and faces, and the women comb their hair. Sometimes they may wash their feet, but more frequently they clean their heads. In fact, the regular way of taking a bath is to wash the head. For this purpose they use an agave called soke. Occasionally they use a white earth from Cusarare, called javoncillo; it is very soft and it is also used as white colour in decorating pottery. When the men go into deep water to bathe they smear fat all over their bodies to guard against all kinds of bad animals in the water; women do not usually take this precaution.

A Tarahumare does not commit homicide unless he is drunk. There are only isolated exceptions. A jefe politico (prefect) told me that in forty years he had heard of only two murders. In both of these cases a drunken husband had killed his wife at a feast, and knew nothing of the crime after he became sober. I have been told that in some rare instances a Tarahumare woman will sit on her child right after its birth to crush it, in order to save herself the trouble of bringing it up. The Tepehuanes are reputed to do the same thing, and for the same purpose. Still with both tribes crimes of this kind are exceedingly rare.

Suicide is never committed unless a person is drunk and angered by some slight or by jealousy. At one time there was a veritable epidemic of suicides among the Indians near Guachochic, the men hanging themselves with their girdles; one of them even suspended himself by the feet. But it is doubtful whether a pagan Tarahumare ever killed himself.

As a rule, the Tarahumare is not a thief. Only when he thinks himself entirely unobserved, he may appropriate some trifle that particularly strikes his fancy, but the indications are that he learned the art from the Mexicans. Once on our travels we passed a man who was weeding his field. We tried to induce him to give us some information, but he was too busy to talk, and we went on. Soon he noticed that we had accidentally dropped our large axe, and immediately he interrupted his pressing work and came running after us with it. I wanted to compensate him for the trouble he had put himself to, but he would not accept the money I offered, saying that he had not had to go far, and, anyway, he did not bring the axe to get payment for it.

As long as he is in his native state, a Tarahumare never cheats at bargains. He does not like to sell anything that is in any way defective. He always draws attention to the flaw, and if a jar has any imperfection, it requires much persuasion to make him part with it. He shows honesty also in other ways. Often I trusted Indians with a silver dollar or two for corn to be delivered a few days later, and never was I disappointed by them. On the other hand, they are chary of selling anything to a stranger. When a Mexican wants to buy a sheep, or some corn, or a girdle, the Tarahumare will first deny that he has anything to sell. What little he has he likes to keep for himself, and he considers it a favour to part with any of his belongings for money. A purchase, however, establishes a kind of brotherhood between the two negotiants, who afterward call each other "naragua," and a confidence is established between them almost of the same character as that which exists between compadres among the Mexicans.

From outsiders they accept silver coins, but not paper money, because they have been cheated with wrappers from cigarette boxes, and besides, they have no means of keeping such money safe and sound from mice, moisture, etc. Among themselves a little trading goes on, the highlands obtaining from the barrancas in the west copal, chile, ari, ear ornaments made from shells, and goats, in exchange for corn and beans. The Indians from Nararachic go to Rio Concho for the shells from which they make their ear pendants. The powder produced in working the shells is saved and mixed with salt to be used as a remedy for eye troubles.

The tribe has undeniably a certain gift for mechanics. The people are deft with their fingers and do everything neatly. This shows itself in their ingeniously constructed wooden locks and in the niceness with which they stuff animals. They are also very clever in following tracks, and even recognise the hoof-prints of particular horses among others in the same trail. They will also tell you that a tired deer keeps its toes more closely together than an animal just aroused from its lair. And never do they lose their way in the forest, not even when drunk. They love to sit among their corn plants, and will hide among them when strangers approach.

The Tarahumares are inquisitive, and will stand for a long time looking at you from a distance, if anything unusual attracts their attention. They are very critical and there is much gossip going on among them. They also laugh at the Mexicans, and say that the hair on their faces is like the fur on a bear. Squint-eyes also afford them much amusement. They are smart, attentive and patient. They have no qualms of conscience about telling an untruth, but my experience with them shows appreciation and gratitude for benefits received. An Indian whom I had occasion to treat to a good meal, many months afterward at a feast came up and said to me, "You were good to me when I was very hungry," and he proved his thankfulness by assisting me in various ways in establishing friendly relations with his people, which otherwise would have been very difficult to bring about.

Children are bright, and when sent to school learn Spanish quickly. They also master reading and writing without difficulty. They are diligent, eager to learn, and very religious, docile, and easily converted to Christianity.

There is a story about a padre who asked a Tarahumare boy, "What is God doing in Heaven?" The boy said, "The same as the macaw does in the tree." The padre asked, "What does the macaw do in the tree?" and the boy replied, "He eats the good seeds and lets the bad ones drop." A Mexican asked me if God was going to walk on earth again, and my Tarahumare attendant remarked, "No, he is now afraid to come, because people have too many rifles."

When they learn something their ambition runs high, and the boys always want to become generals and presidents of the republic.

The Tarahumares are careful observers of the celestial bodies, and know the Pleiades, the Belt of Orion, and the Morning and the Evening Star. The Great Dipper is of no special interest to them. Near Guachochic the Tarahumares plant corn in accordance with the positions of the stars with reference to the sun. They say if the sun and the stars are not equal the year will be bad; but when the stars last long the year will be good. In 1891, the sun "travelled slowly," and the stars "travelled quickly," and in June they had already "disappeared." Therefore the Tarahumares predicted that their crops would be below the average, which came true. On June 3d I asked an Indian how much longer the sun would travel on, and he told me that it ought not to be more than fifteen days. The Tarahumares are reputed to be good weather prophets among the Mexicans, who frequently consult them upon the prospects of rain. The Indians judge from the colour of the sun when he rises as to whether there will be rain that day. If the crescent of the moon is lying horizontally, it is carrying much water; but when it stands up straight, it brings nothing. This belief is shared by the Mexicans. When the moon is full and has "a ring around," she is dancing on her patio. At the period of the dark moon she is dead, but will return after three days. Eclipses are explained as collisions between the sun and the moon on the road, when they fight.

The Tarahumare men make bows and arrows, and in the central part of the country are great hunters and clever at shooting. The fore-shaft of their arrows is made of palo hediondo, a wood used also in the making of needles. But the people living near the pueblo of Panalachic and the Barranca de Cobre are poor shots, and their favourite weapon is the axe. The boys still play with slings, which not so long ago were used for killing squirrels. A club with a stone (Spanish, macana) is said to have been formerly in common use. The grandfathers of the present generation of Nararachic had flint-tipped arrows. The Indians also know how to prepare excellent buckskin. They peg the hide on the ground and leave it for three days, and when it is sufficiently dry the hair is scraped off with a knife. It is then smeared over with the brain of the animal and hung up in the sun for four days. The next step is to wash it well in warm water in a wooden trough. Then it is well kneaded, and two people taking hold of it draw it out of the water and stretch it well between them. It is dried again and is then tanned with the crushed bark of the big-leaved oak-tree.

A natural cavity in a rock is chosen for a vat, in which the skin is left for two days. After this it is well rinsed and squeezed until no water remains in it. Two persons are required for the operation, which is always performed in a place on which the sun beats strongly, while at the same time it is sheltered from the wind by surrounding rocks.

Deer are caught in snares fastened to a bent tree, so that the animal's foot is held, while the tree when released hoists the quarry up. The Indians also chase deer with dogs toward some narrow passage in the track where they have placed sharp-pointed pine sticks, two feet long, against which the deer runs and hurts itself. Blackbirds are decoyed by kernels of corn threaded on a snare of pita fibre hidden under the ground. The bird swallows the kernel, which becomes entangled in its oesophagus and is caught. Small birds are also shot with bow and arrows, or killed with stones.

The Tarahumare is ingenious in devising many kinds of traps for birds and animals. Into the burrow of the gopher he places a small upright frame cut from a piece of bark. There is a groove inside of the frame, and in this the snare runs; and a string is attached to a bough above ground. Another string, on which some grains of corn are threaded, keeps the snare set and obstructs the gopher's passage through the frame. When trying to get at the kernels the gopher cuts the string, the snare is released, and he is caught in his own burrow.

Squirrels are hunted in the most primitive way—by cutting down the tree on which an animal is discovered. Sometimes it will escape when the tree falls, and then the man has to cut down another tree, and thus he may go on felling as many as ten trees before he can bag his game, not a very substantial reward for a whole day's work.

The women make girdles and blankets on primitive looms, inserting characteristic designs in the weaving. It takes four days of constant work to make a girdle, but no woman weaves more than one blanket in a year, and it is almost an event when it is finished. The weaving frame consists simply of four sticks—placed on the ground tied together in a rectangle or triangle, and pieces of reed on which the thread is wound, one for each colour, are used as shuttles. Textiles from Pamachic are especially highly valued. The blankets from that locality are sold all over the Tarahumare country and are the finest made by the tribe.

The Tarahumares are not far advanced in the art of making pottery. Their work is crude and not very substantial. The industry is practised only by the women, and the degree of ability varies considerably. The art is often hereditary. The nicest pottery I found in the neighbourhood of Panalachic, where it is decorated with certain designs in red and white. One woman in a western barranca cultivated a specialty of making large jars for holding tesvino. The largest jar shown in the illustration was nearly eight feet in circumference.

Women when making pottery taste a little of the clay before commencing work, ascertaining whether it is the right kind or not. Some of the clay is acid and not good. The clay which is serviceable is a little sweet and of a pale yellow colour. The clay is dried and ground, and then mixed with ground pieces of old pottery instead of sand. To make a piece of pottery, a lump of clay is hollowed out in the shape of a cup, and on this foundation the jar is built up, thin layers of clay being placed on successively, and smoothed carefully over with wet hands, making the walls thinner and thinner. The vessel is built up standing on a bowl filled with ashes and covered with a piece of cotton cloth.

I saw a clever woman make a medium-sized jar in twenty-seven minutes. She was seated in the sun, and finished four vessels in one afternoon. Then, assisted by her husband, she began to even them on the outside with a small, smooth, oblong piece of a gourd. The vessels were then put into the house in order that they might not dry too quickly. After an interval of fifteen minutes, during which she nursed her infant, which had been bothering her all the while, she began work again. First, with the edge of a sharpened stick she removed all irregularities on the outside and on the brim, and then with a stone she polished the vessel. To polish the jars seemed to take the longest time, for each of the workers was engaged on a vessel for over an hour, and even then had not completed the task. They polished outside and a little way inside below the brim. Finally they painted decorations with ochre, and polished again for a long time, but only the outside. Now the jars were again put into the house to dry a little more before the polishing was finished.

To burn the jars, they must first be thoroughly dried, as otherwise the fire would crack them. When the weather is nice the fire may be made outside the house; but usually it is built inside on the ordinary fireplace. Each vessel, one at a time, is turned upside down over charcoal, and pieces of pine bark are built up all around and over it like a square little hut, then ignited. Care is taken that no piece of bark comes so near to the jar as to touch and injure it. Where bark cannot be readily procured, wood is used. The heat first turns the clay dark, and afterward a pretty yellow colour.

There is one industry which has a peculiar bearing on the whole life of the Tarahumare, namely, the making of native beer.

Nothing is so close to the heart of the Tarahumare as this liquor, called in Mexican Spanish tesvino. It looks like milky water, and has quite an agreeable taste, reminding one of kumyss. To make it, the moist corn is allowed to sprout; then it is boiled and ground, and the seed of a grass resembling wheat is added as a ferment. The liquor is poured into large earthen jars made solely for the purpose, and it should now stand for at least twenty-four hours; but inasmuch as the jars are only poorly made, they are not able to hold it very long, and the people take this responsibility on themselves. A row of beer jars turned upside down in front of a house is a characteristic sight in the Tarahumare region.

The tesvino forms an integral part of the Tarahumare religion. It is used at all its celebrations, dances, and ceremonies. It is given with the mother's milk to the infant to keep it from sickness. In "curing" the new-born babe the shaman sprinkles some over it to make it strong. Beer is applied internally and externally as a remedy for all diseases Tarahumare flesh is heir to. No man could get his field attended to if he did not at first make ready a good supply of tesvino, because beer is the only remuneration his assistants receive. Drinking tesvino at the feast marks the turning-point in a person's life. A boy begins to drink tesvino because now he feels himself a man; and when a girl is seen at feasts, it is a sign that she is looking for a husband. No marriage is legitimate without a liberal consumption of tesvino by all parties present at the wedding. Hunting and fishing expeditions are accompanied by beer-drinking to insure luck. No matter how many times the Tarahumare changes his abode in the course of his life, he always makes tesvino when moving into a new house or cave. Even the dead would not get any rest, but come back and harm the survivors, if a quantity of tesvino were not set aside for them. In fact, there is absolutely no act of importance that is not, in one way or another, connected with the drinking of this beer. Never is a jar commenced unless some of the liquor is sacrificed before the cross, for the gods are believed to be as fond of the beer as are mortals. Rain cannot be obtained without tesvino; tesvino cannot be made without corn; and corn cannot grow without rain. This, in a nutshell, is the Tarahumare's view of life.