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INSTITUTE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY — PUBLICATION NO. 6 



VIII. 



Carmen and Guillermo, from time to time, 

 have their domestic troubles, some serious, some 

 unimportant. Never do they lose an opportun- 

 ity to rattle skeletons in the family closet of 

 the other. We are seated around the supper 

 table, the dishes have not yet been removed. 

 The talk turns to creencias, superstitions, and 

 witchcraft. Presently a lively discussion ensues 

 between the two as to whether the grandmother 

 of the former was a witch or not. Guillermo 

 maliciously insists que si, and Carmen, blush- 

 ing, denies it. Her alibi is pretty good. The 

 grandmother had a marriage godmother from 

 La Vuelta, a naturalita who, admits Carmen, 

 was a bruja — and a powerful one at that. She 

 tried to teach the grandmother the formulas, 

 which consisted chiefly of using the right pray- 

 er so as to be able to fasten petate wings and 

 fly away to suck blood. The grandmother, and 

 several other novices, were trained together, but, 

 while the others easily flew off with their new- 

 found wings. Carmen's ancestress remained on 

 the ground, beating her wings in a fruitless ef- 

 fort to get into the air. She was obviously not 

 of the right stuff", and so gave up all attempts to 

 become a witch. 



IX. 



"The hill of Tariaqueri is where Don Flo- 

 rentine Fraga, one of the richest men who ever 

 lived in Ihuatzio, made his pact with the Devil." 

 Eleuterio is explaining one way to be wealthy 

 without working. "Don Florentine was a very 

 ugly man with large, red eyes which always 

 seemed to shoot fire. His face was hard, and 

 one really felt fear in approaching him. He 

 was accustomed to go to the hill to a place where 

 there was a huge rock, and when he got there 

 he would say, \4qui estoy, Patroncitd' ('Here I 

 am, my chief), and the rock would open and 

 Don Florentine would go in. After talking with 

 his patroncito he would come out with a great 

 quantity of money, and that is how he became 

 so rich." 



Eleuterio's story is interesting, but how does 

 he know it is true? "Once," says the story 

 teller, "a compadre of Don Florentine found 

 himself in straitened financial circumstances, 

 and resolved to go to his compadre and express 



his desire also to make a pact with the patron- 

 cito. Don Florentine asked him if he were sure 

 he could submit to the awful tests necessary, 

 and the compadre said 'Yes.' So they went to 

 the rock. 'Now, you wait here while I go on in,' 

 said Don Florentine. First you will see a goat 

 running at you. Pay no attention to it. It will 

 be followed by a fierce bull, and finally a seven- 

 headed serpent. If you do not flinch before 

 these tests, then you can come in.' Don Flo- 

 rentine knocked on the door, and out rushed 

 the goat, so hard and fast that it almost knocked 

 the compadre down. Don Florentine knocked 

 again, and this time out rushed a great, black 

 bull with long horns, running directly at the 

 compadre. It was then that this sefior turned 

 around and ran down the hill without looking 

 back, and he himself tells that never in his life 

 was he as terrified as on that day." 



X. 



On earlier field trips in Veracruz, I had found 

 that a proffered cigar was often an inexpensive 

 way of inviting a prospective informant to sit 

 down for an hour or so. Expecting the same 

 in Micheacan, I went equipped with ample sup- 

 plies. It soon became apparent that, net only 

 were cigars not smoked, but that few if any 

 men had ever even tried them. Salvador Reyes 

 is owner of one of the larger stores. One day 

 we find ourselves seated on the porch of the 

 presidencia, I smoking. He watches me intently, 

 and though I have learned that cigars are usual- 

 ly rejected, I off^er him one. He takes it, puts 

 it into his mouth without biting off the end, 

 tries to light it and, for lack of draft, fails. I 

 show him how to do it. He inhales deeply, 

 chokes, and bursts out coughing. The other men 

 watching find it highly amusing. "Don't you 

 like it, Salvador?" I ask encouragingly. "Yes, 

 of course, it's really very nice." He can't afford 

 to have the others think he looks ridiculous, and 

 he doesn't want me to think the gift is unappre- 

 ciated. He takes a few more puffs, and terror 

 mounts in his eyes. I purposely look away, and 

 begin talking with Melesio, who is on the porch. 

 After several minutes 1 turn back to Salvador. 

 The cigar is no longer to be seen, and his com- 

 posure is restored. 



Vicente is just as much a novice, but better 



