138 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Boll. 196 



ours were. It's usually like this when you have va ih es out of Cibecue. I don't 

 know why it is. We made a big shade for na ihl esn to stay in and a big shade for 

 cooking too. That shade wasn't as big as ours because they don't have so many 

 people to help with cooking. After we made these my cross-cousin said we 

 should build another one because na ihl esn had lots of people coming with her. 

 So we did. Over there we didn't make food shelters. Just covered-over plac&s 

 inside the shades. That took a long time and we sure had to get a lot of wood. 

 All along other people helped. My brother came from Whiteriver with his son. 

 He only stayed 2 days but his son didn't go home. My wife's brother came too. 

 He's pretty old but he can still work hard. He is still strong. He didn't stay 

 there at night, but we gave him food and tulipay when he went home. After 

 that, I went to na ihl esn's camp [in Cibecue] and told her that we were ready. 

 She came there the next day with her husband and about 20 other people. 

 They were her relatives. I knew most of them because they live in Cibecue, but 

 some had come from San Carlos. 



Stage Three — August 9, 1960; 6 days before na ih es: 



Then we had a lot of people up there, and the work got a little easier. We 

 cleared away all the weeds and stones from where they would sing and dance at 

 bi goh ji tal. We needed lots of firewood and the men did that with pickups. 

 The women put the food and candy away and made tuUpay. Pretty soon every- 

 thing was ready. All we had to do was make a tent for the medicine man and 

 we did that 2 days before he came up there from Cedar Creek. We had hi goh 

 ji tal every night, and there was lots of dancing. One night everybody got drunk 

 and my cousin got into a fight with a boy from San Carlos. He didn't get hurt 

 and we stopped the fight. I went and got groceries twice from Show Low and 

 once from Whiteriver. We had lots of flour and cofifee and sugar and potatoes. 

 So we were just about ready. Two days before ?ia ih es I went to Cedar Creek 

 and got the medicine man and his wife. 



A dance ground in preparation is a scene of great activity. 

 Hauling wood or unloading food from pickup trucks, the men joke 

 constantly and there is much laughter. Women, some with babies 

 in cradleboards strapped to their backs, put the finishing touches on 

 the shades or bend over their manos and metates grinding corn shoots 

 into pulp for tulipay. Young children race about wildly playing tag 

 and lassoing dogs. The older people, always keeping somewhat 

 apart from the others, watch the proceedings quietly, occasionally 

 calling out bits of advice. Few activities bring so many relatives 

 together in one place and the atmosphere is one of relaxation and 

 congeniality. The bonds of blood kinship are reinforced with the 

 bond of a common religious purpose. 



BI GOH J I TAL 



('half-night dance') 



Apaches do not have a phrase in their language precisely equivalent 

 to "social dancing." However, when talking with Whites, they use 

 it to describe the series of dances which begin 4 or 5 nights before na 

 ih es, and which are held every night up until the eve of the ceremony. 



