Jicarillas
On the last night the top of a small spruce tree, tipped with eagle down, is planted near the door of the kozhán, and a new element in the dancing is introduced. About midnight, before any dancing has been engaged in, the ceremonial dancers enter from two dressing kozhán some two hundred yards east of the corral. These consist of two parties. The first, eight in number, enter in single file, preceded and followed by a man in everyday costume. These dancers, called Tsannatí̆, are nude, save for the breech-cloth, with body and face painted in white and black, and the hair hanging loose. Immediately following them are the Chanzhiní̆, six in number, accompanied by four keepers, two in front and two behind. The six are nude, the bodies painted solid white with six black stripes encircling them. The hair is painted white and is done up into two long, stiff braids, which project from the sides of the head like a pair of horns. The faces are hideously made up to represent clowns, as indeed their name signifies. In dancing, the Chanzhiní̆ and Tsannatí̆ do not take steps, but shuffle sidewise, locomotion being effected by means of a sort of exaggerated shivering of the legs. This movement is common to Plains tribes in many of their dances. The whole line of dancers proceed with their peculiar motion into the kozhán and around the fire, passing before the patient, the Chanzhiní̆ all the while uttering hoarse, animal-like cries. Their utterances are always coarse and obscene, causing much merriment, which is supposed to aid the patient in casting off his illness. After passing through the kozhán the Tsannatí̆ form in line outside and with their feet keep time to the singing and drumming, while the others break ranks and in a promiscuous throng pass before the spectators, first on the men's side, then on the women's. Just before their departure from the corral any woman who feels an indisposition may crouch in their path near the gate, facing the west, and the Chanzhiní̆ one by one leap over her, first from the east, then from the other three directions, ever continuing their hoarse cries.
These characters make their appearance four times during the course of the night, the spectators dancing during the intervals. After their last exit dancing continues until shortly before sunrise; then the medicine-man and the singers arise, and, forming a circle about the fire in the centre of the kozhán, sing a number of songs. A maiden is summoned from the gathering to carry a basket of sacred meal, and the medicine-man, taking up the top of the spruce tree, passes out of the enclosure toward the rising sun, followed by the maiden, the patient, the singers, and any who may be afflicted with a bodily ailment. At a distance of about a hundred yards the medicine-man stops and plants the little spruce tip, to which the disease is now supposed to have been transferred, under a tree, sprinkling over it quantities of the sacred meal. Then each of the others, the patient leading, steps forward, throws a pinch of the meal on the tree, and passes on, always facing the east. When the last one has thus passed, the procession stops, everybody holds his blanket ready, and on signal from the medicine-man, just as the sun appears, gives it a shake and runs at full speed to the kozhán and around the fire. Thus is disease shaken out and the pursuit of the evil spirits of sickness eluded.
Jeditoh - Navaho
It is interesting to note the difference between the Apache of Arizona and the Jicarillas in their assignment of colors to the cardinal directions. The former invariably associate black with the east, blue with the south, yellow with the west, and white with the north.
Mythology - Creation Myth
In the beginning all people, birds, and beasts were far beneath this earth, somewhere in the darkness; there was no sun, no moon. It was not a good place in which to live, because of the darkness. After a time came Chunnaái, the Sun, and Klĕnaái, the Moon. They directed the people to leave the world of darkness, showing the way they were to go by passing up through a rift in the sky. But the sky was so far above that the people knew of no way to reach it, so they made a pile of sand in the form of a mountain, and painted the east side white, the south blue, the west yellow, and the north side all colors. Then they gathered seeds from all the plants they knew and placed them inside the little mountain. Chunnaái sent back his messenger, Ánltsĭstn, the Whirlwind, to instruct them how to make the mountain increase in size.
Then all gathered about it and danced and sang, until after four days the seeds sprouted and the mountain began to expand and to increase in height. This continued for four days, at the end of which time the mountain seemed almost to reach the sky; but suddenly its growth ceased, and none knew the cause. From Chunnaái came Whirlwind to tell the inhabitants how two of their maidens had entered the sacred space on the mountain top and had wantonly broken and destroyed plants and fruits, thus causing the mountain to cease growing.
With two long poles and four buffalo horns, which then were straight, the people made a ladder, which, when placed on the mountain top, reached the sky. One of the four Great Whirlwinds, Níchitso, went up to see what this new place was like. He put his head through the opening, and seeing that the world was covered with water, at once descended the ladder. The four Whirlwinds then went up; White Wind rolled the water to the east, but still there was water at the south; Blue Wind rolled it away to the south, but still there was water at the west; so Yellow Wind blew it away to the west, and then there was water only at the north, which All-Color Wind quickly blew away. Then the Winds blew over the earth for four days to dry it; but they left some of the water, which flowed along in streams.
When they returned and told what they had done, the people sent Ká̑gĕ, the Crow, who was wise, to view the land. They waited long, but Ká̑gĕ did not return. Then they sent Little Whirlwind, who found the Crow perched upon some dead bodies, plucking out their eyes; and because of his wickedness in forgetting the people, his feathers, once white, had turned black. Then Nagánschitn, the Badger, was sent to see if the land was good, but just as soon as he had crawled through he sank in the black mud and could go no farther, so Little Whirlwind was despatched to succor him. To this day Badger's legs are black. Next Kĕldinshé̆n, the Skunk, was sent, because he was light in weight; but even he sank in the mud and blackened his legs. Then the people sent Cha, the Beaver, who travelled about for a long time, and finding all the water running away in streams, built dams and thus formed many lakes. He came back and told the people that the land was good to live in, which pleased them greatly. Then they started up the ladder, and when all had passed over, it was found that their weight had bent the buffalo horns, which ever since have been curved. Thus all the people came out upon this earth at a place in the north.3
During the first days the Sun did not rise above the horizon, having been held back in the east by a web that Mansché̆, the Spider, had woven about him. But the people succeeded in tearing the web away, and from that time the Sun each day has travelled across the whole sky.
On emerging from the underworld the inhabitants began moving in a great circle, travelling from the north to the east, then to the south, then to the west. When any found a spot that pleased them, they settled there, and Chunnaái and Klĕnaái gave them a language of their own. Four times the land was thus encircled, but each time the circle became smaller, and when the