"There, I told you he would have some lie to tell," interrupted the eldest brother, and started on.
"Go ahead," urged the brother-in-law; "tell us the rest."
"It's no use; no one cares to listen to me," said Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ.
His younger brother, also incredulous, took up his burden and plodded off, whereat Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ related all that he had seen and heard.
"You men must have killed those people they spoke about," he accused.
"No, it was none of us," his brother-in-law protested; "we have killed no people. Yesterday morning one shot a crow, and last night we killed a magpie, but there was no harm in that."
"I fear there was; they were hunters like yourselves, in search of meat for the Holy People, for the time disguised as birds," Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ ventured. Then, dividing the pack, the two hurried on to overtake the others.
"Well," asked the youngest, "did you hear a fine story?"
"It is not a lie," his brother-in-law retorted; "we killed a crow and a magpie yesterday, and the Holy People talked about it in the cañon last night. Look! There come four mountain sheep! Hurry, Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ and head them off!" They had come upon the cañon where the strange voices had been heard. Four sheep, among large bowlders near the rim, were carefully threading their way out of it. The three dropped back, while Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ ran ahead and concealed himself near the ascending trail. As the sheep approached he drew his bow and aimed for the leader's heart, but his fingers could not loose their grip upon the arrow, and the sheep passed by unharmed. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ scrambled up over the rim of the cañon and ran to get ahead of them again, but the bowstring would not leave his fingers as they passed. A third effort, and a fourth, to kill the game brought the same result. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ cursed himself and the sheep, but ceased suddenly, for whom should he see but four gods, Yébĭchai, appear before him, who had transformed themselves into sheep! Hasché̆ltĭ, in the lead, ran up to him and dropped his balíl—a rectangular, four-piece, folding wand—over him, as he sat, and uttered a peculiar cry. Behind him came Zahadolzhá, Haschĕbaád, and Gánaskĭdĭ; all were masked.
Tónenĭlĭ, Tobadzĭschí̆nĭ, Nayé̆nĕzganĭ - Navaho
These three gods appear in the order shown when seen in the rites of the Navaho Night Chant.
"Whence came you?" Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ asked them.
"From Kĭnní̆nĭkai," Hasché̆ltĭ answered.
"Whither are you going?"
"To Tsé̆gyiĭ, to hold another hatál four days from now. You had better come along."
"No, I couldn't travel so far in four days."
But after a little parleying Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ assented. He was told to disrobe, and doing so Gánaskĭdĭ breathed upon him, and his raiment became the same as that of the gods. Then all took four steps eastward, changing into mountain sheep, and bounded away along the cañon's rim.
The hunters in hiding became restless as The Dreamer did not return, so ventured out where they could view the trail on which he was last seen. No one was in sight. One went to the rock where Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ first hid near the sheep and followed his tracks from hiding place to hiding place until the fourth one was reached, and there he found his brother's old clothes with his bow and arrows upon them. There he traced four human footsteps to the east that merged into the trail of five mountain sheep. The eldest brother cried in his remorse, for he saw that his brother was holy, and he had always treated him with scorn.
The gods and Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ, transformed to mountain sheep, travelled very far during their four days' journey, coming on the fourth day to a large hogán. Inside were numerous Holy People, both gods and men. When Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ entered with his four holy companions, a complaint at once arose from those inside against an earthly odor, whereat Hasché̆ltĭ had their charge taken out and washed with yucca-root suds.
Inside the hogán stood four large jewel posts upon which the gods hung their masks. The eastern post was of white shell, the southern of turquoise, the western of abalone, and the northern of jet. Two jewel pipes lay beside a god sitting on the western side of the hogán. These he filled with tobacco and lighted, passing one each to his right and his left. All assembled smoked, the last to receive the pipes being two large Owls sitting one on each side of the entrance way at the east. They drew in deep draughts of smoke and puffed them out violently. While the smoking continued, people came in from all directions. At midnight lightning flashed, followed by heavy thunder and rain, which Tónenĭlĭ, Water Sprinkler, sent in anger because he had not been apprised of the dance before it was time to begin it; but a smoke with the assembled Holy People appeased him. Soon after the chant began and continued until morning.
Some of the gods had beautiful paintings on deerskins, resembling those now made with colored sands. These they unfolded upon the floor of the hogán during the successive days of the hatál.
The last day of the dance was very largely attended, people coming from all holy quarters. Bĭlh Ahatí̆nĭ through it all paid close attention to the songs, prayers, paintings, and dance movements, and the forms of the various sacred paraphernalia, and when the hatál was over he had learned the rite of Kléjĕ Hatál. The gods permitted him to return to his people long enough to perform it over his younger brother and teach him how to conduct it for people afflicted with sickness or evil. This he did, consuming nine days in its performance, after which he again joined the gods at Tsé̆gyiĭ, where he now lives. His younger brother taught the ceremony to his earthly brothers, the Navaho, who yet conduct it under the name of Kléjĕ Hatál, Night Chant, or Yébĭchai Hatál, The Chant of Paternal Gods.
Ceremonies—The Night Chant
Yébĭchai Sweat - Navaho
Each morning during the first four days of the Navaho Yébĭchai healing ceremony, or Night Chant, the patient is sweated—sometimes inside a small sweat-lodge, oftener by being placed upon a spot previously heated by a fire and covered with heavy blankets. The three figures are medicine-men, or singers, chanting. The patient lies under the blankets surrounded by a line of sacred meal in which turkey-feather prayer-sticks, kĕdán, are implanted.
A description of the ritual and form of the Yébĭchai ceremony,—Kléjĕ Hatál, or Night Chant,—covering its nine days of performance, will give a comprehensive idea of all Navaho nine-day ceremonies, which combine both religious and medical observances. The myth characters personified in this rite are termed Yébĭchai, Grandfather or Paternal Gods. Similar personations appear in other ceremonies, but they figure less prominently.
First Day: The ceremonial, or medicine, hogán is built some days in advance of the rite. The first day's ceremony is brief, with few participants. Well after dark the singer, assisted by two men, makes nine little splint hoops—tsĭpans yázhĕ kĕdán—entwined with slip-cords, and places them on the sacred meal in the meal basket. Following this, three men remove their everyday clothing, take Yébĭchai masks, and leave the hogán. These three masked figures are to represent the gods Hasché̆ltĭ, Talking God, Haschĕbaád, Goddess, and Hasché̆lapai, Gray God. When they have gone and passed to the rear of the hogán, the patient comes in, disrobes at the left of the centre, passes around the small fire burning near the entrance of the hogán, and takes his seat in the centre, immediately after which the singing begins. During the third song Hasché̆ltĭ enters with his cross-sticks—Hasché̆ltĭ balíl—and opens and places them