ART AND ARCHAEOLOGY 
ties, many of the women of the village 
know very little about religious mat¬ 
ters, but have the idea that a full 
knowledge of these things is possessed 
only by certain men. Ceremonies of 
various kinds are almost constantly 
going on, and each village has also its 
“fiestas grandes,” or great festivals, 
which are attended by Indians from 
other villages. The chief priest or priests 
of a village are designated by the Span¬ 
ish term cacique and spend much of 
their time in prayer and fasting for the 
good of the people. There are religious 
ceremonies performed at birth, puberty, 
marriage, and death of the individual, 
all of them highly symbolic and of deep 
meaning to the people. The use of sa¬ 
cred meal, fetishes, feathered sticks, 
certain dancing regalia, and of religious 
chambers known as kivas, is largely 
peculiar to the Pueblo culture. 
A comprehension of the cosmographi- 
St hool of A merican A rchaeology 
Santa Fe 
cal ideas of the Pueblo Indian shows 
that they were very different from our 
own. It is believed that there were 
other worlds above and below this and 
that the first people lived in the lowest 
world, whence they found their way 
up as through the various stories of a 
house into this living place which the 
Sun Lord lights. The spirits of the dead 
are believed to go to a ceremonial cham¬ 
ber known among some of the tribes as 
Wayima, where they dance. The un¬ 
written mythological literature of the 
Pueblos is large in quantity. 
Voluminous records of the Pueblo 
Indians will be of great scientific value, 
but, however carefully they may be 
written or studied, the impression re¬ 
ceived from reading them will not be 
the same as that gained by the Indian 
himself, who sees the life of his people 
from childhood up with Indian eyes 
and understands it with an Indian mind. 
A MAYA MONOLITH: THE FIRE-PRIESTESS 
How calm her eyelids, and how pure her lips, 
Parted in benediction that reveals 
A sovereignty that springs from knowledge deep, 
Not knowledge that all men proclaim her power, 
Her crown, her scepter, shoes, do not divine, 
But the soft breath that streams unseen from her, 
This, this it was that urged her toward the Sun, 
With this her chant invoked, her mouth proclaimed, 
By this her message triumphs over stone 
Through this her body bore the burning grace 
Of stellar wisdom that informs her face. 
Beatrice Irwin 
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