This is a modern-English version of The Seri Indians. (1898 N 17 / 1895-1896 (pages 1-344*)), originally written by McGee, W J. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

The cover image was made by the transcriber and is in the public domain.


Transcriber's Note:

W J McGee apparently preferrred his initials without periods. The initials W J are retained as scanned.

W J McGee apparently preferred his initials without periods. The initials W J are retained as scanned.

The letter "q" does not have a superscript character in unicode. Superscripts with a "q" are formatted with a caret and any additional superscript characters in braces in the text version.

The letter "q" doesn't have a superscript character in Unicode. Superscripts with a "q" are formatted with a caret and any extra superscript characters in braces in the text version.

Pages 129-end are asterisked in the original text because they overlap the pagination of the following article.

Pages 129-end are marked with an asterisk in the original text because they overlap with the pagination of the following article.


THE SERI INDIANS
BY
W J McGEE

Seventeenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1895-96, Government Printing Office, Washington, 1898, pages 1—344*

Seventeenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, 1895-96, Government Printing Office, Washington, 1898, pages 1—344*

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Contents

page
Introduction 9
Salient features 9
Recent explorations and surveys 12
Acknowledgments 20
Habitat 22
Location and area 22
Physical characteristics 22
Flora 31
Fauna 36
Local features 39
Summary history 51
Tribal features 123
Definition and nomenclature 123
External relations 130*
Population 134*
Somatic characters 136*
Demotic characters 164*
Symbolism and decoration 164*
Face-painting 164*
Decoration in general 169*
The significance of decoration 176*
Industries and industrial products 180*
Food and food-getting 180*
Navigation 215*
Habitations 221*
Appareling 224*
Tools and their uses 232*
Warfare 254*
Nascent industrial development 265*
Social organization 269*
Clans and totems 269*
Chiefship 275*
Adoption 277*
Marriage 279*
Mortuary customs 287*
Serial place of seri socialry 293*
Language 296*45
Comparative lexicology
Index
Footnotes

Illustrations

Page
Plate I. Seriland 9
II. Pascual Encinas, conqueror of the Seri 13
IIIa. Seri frontier 40
IIIb. Sierra Seri, from Encinas desert 40
IVa. Sierra Seri, from Tiburon island 42
IVb. Punta Ygnacio, Tiburon bay 42
Va. Western shore of Tiburon bay 44
Vb. Eastern shore of Tiburon bay 44
VIa. Recently occupied rancheria, Tiburon island 80
VIb. Typical house interior, Tiburon island 80
VIIa. House framework, Tiburon island 110
VIIb. House covering, Tiburon island 110
VIII. Sponge used for house covering, Tiburon island 112
IXa. House skeleton, Tiburon island 114
IXb. Interior house structure, Tiburon island 114
X. Typical Seri house on the frontier 117
XI. Occupied rancheria on the frontier 119
XII. Group of Seri Indians on trading excursion 121
XIII. Group of Seri Indians on the frontier 137*
XIV. Seri family group 139*
XV. Seri mother and child 142*
XVI. Group of Seri boys 144*
XVII. Mashém, Seri interpreter 146*
XVIII. “Juana Maria”, Seri elderwoman 150*
XIX. Typical Seri warrior 154*
XX. Typical Seri matron 156*
XXI. Seri runner 158*
XXII. Seri matron 160*
XXIII. Youthful Seri warrior 162*
XXIV. Seri belle 164*
XXV. seri maiden 166*
XVI. Characteristic face-painting 168*
XXVII. Face-painting paraphernalia 170*
XXVIII. seri Archer at Rest 200*
XXIX. Seri archer at attention 202*
XXX. Seri bow, arrow, and quiver 204*
XXXI. Seri balsa in the national museum 217*
XXXII. painted Olla, With Olla Ring (Museum Number 155373) 222*
XXXIII. Plain olla (Museum number 155373) 226*
XXXIV. Domestic anvil, side (Museum number 178858) 234*
XXXV. domestic Anvil, Top (Museum Number 178858) 234*
XXXVI. Domestic anvil, bottom (Museum number 178858) 234*
XXXVII. domestic Anvil (Reduced), Top and Side (Museum Number 178838) 237*
XXXVIII. Metate (reduced), top and edge (Museum number 178839) 237*
XXXIX. Long-used metate (reduced), top (Museum number 178840) 238*6
XL. long-used Metate (Reduced), Bottom (Museum Number 178840) 238*
XLI. Natural pebble bearing slight marks of use (Museum number 178841) 240*
XLII. Natural pebble used as bone-crusher (Museum number 178842) 240*
XLIII. Little-worn pebble used for all domestic purposes (Museum number 174570) 243*
XLIV. Natural pebble used as crusher and grinder (Museum number 178843) 243*
XLV. Natural pebble slightly used as hammer and anvil (Museum number 178844) 244*
XLVI. Natural pebble slightly used as grinder (Museum number 178845) 247*
XLVII. Natural pebble slightly used as domestic implement (Museum number 178846) 247*
XLVIII. Natural pebble slightly worn by use (Museum number 178847) 249*
XLIX. natural Pebble Considerably Worn in Use As Grinder (Museum Number 178848) 249*
L. Natural pebble considerably worn as cutter and grinder (Museum number 178849) 251*
LI. Natural pebble considerably used as hammer, grinder, and anvil (top and edge) (Museum number 178850) 253*
LII. Natural pebble considerably used as hammer, grinder, and anvil (bottom and edge) (Museum number 178850) 253*
LIII. Hammer and grinder (Museum number 178851) 255*
LIV. implement Shaped by Use (Museum Number 178853) 255*
LV. Implement perfected by use (Museum number 178853) 257*
LVI. Perfected implement found in use (Museum number 178854) 259*
 
Figure 1. Nomenclatural map of Seriland 16
2. Gateway to Seriland—gorge of Rio Bacuache 27
3. Tinaja Anita 29
4. Beyond Encinas desert—the saguesa 33
5. Embarking on Bahia Kunkaak in la lancha Anita 48
6. Anterior and left lateral aspect of Seri cranium 142*
7. Snake-skin belt 170*
8. Dried flower necklace 171*
9. Seed necklace 172*
10. Nut pendants 172*
11. Shell beads 172*
12. Wooden beads 172*
13. Necklace of wooden beads 173*
14. Rattlesnake necklace 174*
15. Seri olla ring 184*
16. Water-bearer’s yoke 184*
17. Symbolic mortuary olla 185*
18. Symbolic mortuary dish 185*
19. Shell-cup 186*
20. Turtle-harpoon 187*
21. fish-spearhead 193*
22. African archery posture 202*
23. Desiccated pork 205*
24. Seri basket 208*
25. Scatophagic supplies 213*
26. Seri marlinspikes 217*
27. The balsa afloat 218*
28. Seri balsa as seen by Narragansett party 219*7
29. Seri hairbrush 226*
30. Seri cradle 226*
31. Hair spindle 227*
32. Human-hair cord 228*
33. Horsehair cord 228*
34. Mesquite-fiber rope 229*
35. Bone awl 230*
36. Wooden awls 230*
37. Seri arrowheads 246*
38. Diagrammatic outline of industrial development 253*
39. Mortuary olla 289*
40. Woman’s fetishes 290*
41. Food for the long journey 291*
42. Mortuary cup 291*

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BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. I

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. I

SERILAND

SERILAND

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THE SERI INDIANS
By W J McGEE

THE SERI INDIANS
By W J McGEE


INTRODUCTION

Key Features

Something has been known of the Seri Indians (Seris, Ceris, Ceres, Heris, Tiburones) since the time of Coronado, yet they remain one of the least-studied tribes of North America. The first systematic investigation of the tribe was made in the course of expeditions by the Bureau of American Ethnology in 1894 and 1895; it was far from complete.

Something has been known about the Seri Indians (Seris, Ceris, Ceres, Heris, Tiburones) since Coronado's time, yet they are still one of the least-studied tribes in North America. The first thorough investigation of the tribe took place during expeditions by the Bureau of American Ethnology in 1894 and 1895; it was far from comprehensive.

The Seri Indians are a distinctive tribe in habits, customs, and language, inhabiting Tiburon island in Gulf of California and a limited adjacent area on the mainland of Sonora (Mexico). They call themselves Kun-kaak or Kmike: their common appellation is from the Opata, and may be translated “spry”. Their habitat is arid and rugged, consisting chiefly of desert sands and naked mountain rocks, with permanent fresh water in only two or three places; it is barred from settled Sonora by a nearly impassable desert. Two centuries ago the population of the tribe was estimated at several thousands, but it has been gradually reduced by almost constant warfare to barely three hundred and fifty, of whom not more than seventy-five are adult males, or warriors.

The Seri Indians are a unique tribe in their habits, customs, and language, living on Tiburon Island in the Gulf of California and a small area on the nearby mainland of Sonora (Mexico). They refer to themselves as Kun-kaak or Kmike; their common name comes from the Opata and can be translated as “spry.” Their environment is dry and rugged, primarily consisting of desert sands and bare mountain rocks, with permanent freshwater sources available in only two or three locations; it is separated from settled Sonora by a nearly impassable desert. Two centuries ago, the tribe's population was estimated to be several thousand, but it has gradually decreased due to almost constant warfare to barely three hundred and fifty, of whom no more than seventy-five are adult males or warriors.

The Seri men and women are of splendid physique; they have fine chests, with slender but sinewy limbs, though the hands and especially the feet are large; their heads, while small in relation to stature, approach the average in size; the hair is luxuriant and coarse, ranging from typical black to tawny in color, and is worn long. They are notably vigorous in movement, erect in carriage, and remarkable for fleetness and endurance.

The Seri men and women have impressive physiques; they have broad chests and lean but strong limbs, although their hands and especially their feet are large. Their heads are small compared to their height but are about average in size. Their hair is thick and coarse, varying from typical black to a light brown color, and is kept long. They are particularly energetic in their movements, stand tall, and are known for their speed and stamina.

The Seri subsist chiefly on turtles, fish, mollusks, water-fowl, and other food of the sea; they also take land game, and consume cactus fruits, mesquite beans, and a few other vegetal products of their sterile domain. Most of their food is eaten raw. They neither plant nor cultivate, and are without domestic animals, save dogs which are largely of coyote blood.

The Seri mainly rely on turtles, fish, shellfish, waterfowl, and other seafood for their diet; they also hunt land animals and eat cactus fruits, mesquite beans, and a few other plant products from their barren land. Most of their food is consumed raw. They don’t farm or grow crops, and they have no domestic animals except for dogs, which are mostly mixed with coyote genes.

The habitations of the Seri are flimsy bowers of cactus and shrubbery, sometimes shingled rudely with turtle-shells and sponges; in some 10 cases these are in clusters pertaining to matronymic family groups; in other cases they are isolated, and are then often abandoned and reoccupied repeatedly, and are apparently common property of the tribe. The habitations afford some protection from sun and wind, but not from cold and wet, which are hardly known in winterless and nearly rainless Seriland.

The homes of the Seri are makeshift structures made from cactus and shrubs, sometimes covered roughly with turtle shells and sponges. In some cases, these homes are grouped together based on family ties; in other instances, they stand alone, often being left behind and reused multiple times, seeming to be shared property of the tribe. These dwellings provide some shelter from the sun and wind, but they don't protect against cold and rain, which are rare in the nearly rain-free and always warm Seriland. 10

The Seri clothing consists essentially of a kilt or skirt extending from waist to knees; sometimes a pelican-skin robe is worn as a blanket or mantle, and used also as bedding; the head and feet, as well as the bust and arms, are habitually bare, though a loose-sleeved wammus reaching not quite to the waist is sometimes worn. These garments were formerly woven of coarse threads or cords made from native vegetal fibers; the belt is generally of twisted human hair, of horse hair, of dressed deerskin, or of snake skin; the robe consists of four, six, or eight pelican skins sewed together with sinew. The pelican-skin robes are still used, though the aboriginal fabric is commonly replaced by cotton stuffs obtained through barter or plunder. Cords of human hair and skins of serpents are used for necklaces.

The Seri clothing mainly includes a kilt or skirt that goes from the waist to the knees. Sometimes, they wear a pelican-skin robe as a blanket or cloak, and it’s also used for bedding. The head, feet, chest, and arms are usually bare, though a loose-sleeved wammus that doesn’t quite reach the waist is sometimes worn. These garments were once made from coarse threads or cords made from local plant fibers. The belt is usually made from twisted human hair, horsehair, tanned deerskin, or snake skin. The robe is made up of four, six, or eight pelican skins sewn together with sinew. Pelican-skin robes are still in use, although the original fabric is often replaced by cotton fabrics obtained through trade or theft. Human hair cords and snake skins are used for necklaces.

The sports and games of the Seri Indians include racing and dancing, and there are ceremonial dances at the girls’ puberty feasts, accompanying the rude music of improvised drums. Decoration is ordinarily limited to symbolic face-painting, which is seen especially among the females, and to crude ornamentation of the scanty apparel. A peculiar pottery is manufactured, and the pieces are sometimes decorated with simple designs in plain colors.

The sports and games of the Seri Indians include racing and dancing, and there are ceremonial dances at the girls’ puberty feasts, accompanied by the rough music of makeshift drums. Decoration is usually limited to symbolic face-painting, especially among the women, and to simple adornments of their minimal clothing. They create unique pottery, and the pieces are sometimes decorated with basic designs in solid colors.

The bow and arrow are habitually used, especially in warfare, and turtles and fish are taken by means of harpoons, shafted with cane and usually tipped with bone, charred wood, or flotsam metal. The arrows are sometimes provided with chipped stone points, though the art of chipping seems to be accultural and shamanistic. The ordinary stone implements are used for crushing bone and severing sinew or flesh, and also for mulling seeds and other food substances; they are mere cobbles, selected for fitness, and retained only if their fitness is increased by the wear of use, after the manner of protolithic culture. Graceful balsas are made from canes, bound together with mesquite-fiber cords; and on these the people freely navigate the narrow but stormy strait separating Tiburon and the neighboring islets from the mainland. They make a distinctive pottery, which is remarkably light and fragile. Its chief use is carrying water to habitations (always located miles from the spring or tinaja) or on desultory wanderings. Shells are used for cups, and to some extent for implements. They have a few baskets, which are not greatly different from those made by neighboring tribes.

The bow and arrow are commonly used, especially in warfare, while turtles and fish are caught using harpoons made of cane, typically with tips made from bone, charred wood, or scrap metal. The arrows sometimes have stone points that are chipped, although the skill of chipping seems to be tied to cultural and spiritual practices. Basic stone tools are used for crushing bone and cutting sinew or flesh, as well as for grinding seeds and other food items; they are just selected stones, kept only if they become more useful through wear, similar to early stone age cultures. Elegant rafts are made from canes, tied together with mesquite fiber cords, which the people use to navigate the narrow but rough strait separating Tiburon and the nearby islets from the mainland. They create unique pottery that is surprisingly light and fragile, mainly used for carrying water to homes (which are always several miles away from the spring or water source) or during casual travels. Shells serve as cups and, to some extent, tools. They also have a few baskets that are quite similar to those made by neighboring tribes.

The modern Seri are loosely organized in a number of maternal groups or clans, which are notable for the prominence given to mother-right in marriage and for some other customs; and there are indications that the clan organization was more definite before the tribe was so 11 greatly reduced. The leading clans are those of the Pelican, the chief tribal tutelary, and the Turtle, a minor tutelary. At present polygyny prevails, professedly and evidently because of the preponderance of females due to the decimation of warriors in battle; but both custom and tradition tell of former monogamy, with a suggestion of polyandry. The primary marriage is negotiated between the mothers of the would-be groom and the prospective bride; if the mother and daughter in the latter family look with favor on the proposal, the candidate is subjected to rigorous tests of material and moral character; and if these are successfully passed the marriage is considered complete, and the husband becomes a privileged and permanent guest in the wife’s household. Family feeling, especially maternal affection, is strong; but petty dissensions are common save when internal peace is constrained by external strife. The strongest tribal characteristic is implacable animosity toward aliens, whether Indian or Caucasian; certainly for three and a half centuries, and probably for many more, the Seri have been almost constantly on the warpath against one alien group or another, and have successfully stayed Spanish, Mexican, and American invasion. In their estimation the brightest virtue is the shedding of alien blood, while the blackest crime in their calendar is alien conjugal union.

The modern Seri are loosely organized into several maternal groups or clans, which stand out for their emphasis on maternal rights in marriage and other customs. There are signs that clan organization was more defined before the tribe faced significant reductions. The main clans are the Pelican, the chief tribal guardian, and the Turtle, a minor guardian. Currently, polygyny is common, primarily due to the larger number of females resulting from the loss of warriors in battles; however, both custom and tradition point to a past of monogamy, with hints of polyandry. The main marriage is arranged between the mothers of the prospective groom and bride; if the mother and daughter in the bride's family approve the proposal, the groom-to-be undergoes strict evaluations of both material and moral character. If he passes these tests, the marriage is deemed complete, and he becomes a privileged and permanent guest in his wife's household. Family bonds, particularly maternal love, are strong, but minor conflicts frequently arise unless internal peace is maintained by external conflicts. The most defining tribal trait is a deep-seated hostility toward outsiders, whether they are Indian or Caucasian. For at least three and a half centuries, and likely much longer, the Seri have been almost continuously in conflict with one outsider group or another, effectively resisting Spanish, Mexican, and American invasions. They hold the belief that their greatest virtue is the shedding of outsider blood, while the worst crime on their list is intermarriage with outsiders.

The Seri vocabulary is meager and essentially local; the kinship terms are strikingly scanty, and there are fairly full designations for food materials and other local things, while abstract terms are few. Two or three recorded vocables seem to resemble those of the Yuman languages, while the numerals and all other known terms are distinct. The grammatic construction of Seri speech appears not to differ greatly from that of other tongues of Sonora and Arizona; it is highly complex and associative. The speech is fairly euphonious, much more so than that of the neighboring Papago and Yaqui Indians.

The Seri vocabulary is limited and mainly local; the terms for family relationships are notably few, while there are quite a few words for food items and other local things, but there are very few abstract terms. A couple of documented words seem to resemble those in the Yuman languages, but the numbers and all other known words are different. The grammar of Seri speech doesn't seem to differ much from that of other languages in Sonora and Arizona; it's quite complex and associative. The language sounds pretty pleasant, much more so than that of the nearby Papago and Yaqui tribes.

The Seri Indians appear to recognize a wide variety of mystical potencies and a number of zoic deities, all of rather limited powers. The Pelican, Turtle, Moon, and Sun seem to lead their thearchy. Creation is ascribed to the Ancient of Pelicans—a mythical bird of marvelous wisdom and melodious song—who first raised Isla Tassne, and afterward Tiburon and the rest of the world, above the primeval waters. Individual fetishes are used, and there is some annual ceremony at the time of ripening of cactus fruits, and certain observances at the time of the new moon. The most conspicuous ceremony is the girls’ puberty feast. The dead are clothed in their finest raiment, folded and fastened in small compass like Peruvian mummies, placed in shallow graves, and covered with turtle-shells, when the graves are filled with earth and heaped with stones or thorny brambles for protection against beasts of prey. Fetishes, weapons, and other personal belongings are buried with the body, as well as a dish of food and an olla of water, and there are curious customs connected with the place of 12 sepulture. There is a weird, formal mourning for dead matrons, and suggestions of fear of or veneration for the manes.

The Seri Indians appear to recognize a wide variety of mystical powers and several animal deities, all with rather limited abilities. The Pelican, Turtle, Moon, and Sun seem to lead their pantheon. Creation is attributed to the Ancient of Pelicans—a mythical bird known for its incredible wisdom and beautiful songs—who first lifted Isla Tassne, and later Tiburon and the rest of the world, above the primeval waters. They use individual fetishes and hold an annual ceremony when the cactus fruits ripen, along with certain rituals during the new moon. The most notable ceremony is the girls’ puberty feast. The dead are dressed in their finest clothes, wrapped and secured tightly like Peruvian mummies, placed in shallow graves, and covered with turtle shells. When the graves are filled with earth, they are heaped with stones or thorny brambles to protect against predators. Fetishes, weapons, and other personal items are buried with the body, along with a dish of food and a jar of water, and there are unique customs related to the burial site. There is an intense, formal mourning for deceased women, and hints of fear or reverence for their spirits.

Seriland is surrounded with prehistoric works, telling of a numerous population who successfully controlled the scant waters for irrigation, built villages and temples and fortresses, cultivated crops, kept domestic animals, and manufactured superior fictile and textile wares; but (save possibly in one spot) these records of aboriginal culture cease at the borders of Seriland. In their stead a few slightly worn pebbles and bits of pottery are found here and there, deeply embedded in the soil and weathered as by the suns of ages. There are also a few cairns of cobbles marking the burial places, and at least one cobble mound of striking dimensions but of unknown meaning; and there are a few shell-mounds, one so broad and high as to form a cape in the slowly transgressing shoreline (Punta Antigualla), and in which the protolithic implements and other relics are alike from the house-dotted surface to the tide level, 90 feet below.

Seriland is surrounded by ancient sites that tell of a large population who effectively managed the limited water for irrigation, built villages, temples, and fortresses, cultivated crops, raised livestock, and produced high-quality pottery and textiles. However, these records of early culture mostly stop at Seriland's borders, except possibly in one location. Instead, there are a few worn pebbles and pieces of pottery scattered throughout, buried deep in the soil and weathered by the passage of time. There are also some stone piles marking burial sites, and at least one impressive stone mound whose significance is unknown. Additionally, there are several shell mounds, one so wide and tall that it creates a cape along the slowly shifting shoreline (Punta Antigualla), which contains protolithic tools and other artifacts that can be found ranging from the surface with homes to the tide level, 90 feet below.

The absence of relics of a superior culture, and the presence of Seri relics throughout deposits of high antiquity, suggest that the tribe is indigenous to Seriland; and this indication harmonizes with the peculiar isolation of the territory, the lowly culture and warlike habits of the people, the essentially distinct language, the singular marriage custom, and the local character of the beast-gods. And all these features combine to mark the Seri as children of the soil, or autochthones.

The lack of evidence from a more advanced culture, along with the abundance of Seri artifacts found in ancient layers, suggests that the tribe is native to Seriland. This aligns with the unique isolation of the area, the simplistic culture and aggressive nature of the people, their distinct language, unique marriage customs, and the local characteristics of their beast-gods. All these elements come together to identify the Seri as true locals or indigenous people.

Recent Explorations and Surveys

Present knowledge of Seriland and its inhabitants is based primarily on the work of two expeditions by the Bureau of American Ethnology, conducted in 1894 and 1895, respectively; and, secondarily, on researches into the cartography and literature (descriptive, historical, and scientific) of the region. Both of the expeditions were projected largely for the purpose of making collections among little-known native tribes in the interests of the National Museum, and the general ethnologic inquiries were ancillary to this purpose.

Present knowledge of Seriland and its inhabitants mainly comes from two expeditions by the Bureau of American Ethnology, carried out in 1894 and 1895, respectively. Additionally, research into the maps and literature (descriptive, historical, and scientific) of the area has contributed to this knowledge. Both expeditions were primarily aimed at collecting information from lesser-known native tribes for the National Museum, with general ethnological inquiries being a secondary goal.

The 1894 expedition was directed chiefly toward work among the Papago Indians in the vaguely defined territory known as Papagueria, lying south of Gila river and west of the Sierra Madre in southwestern Arizona and western Sonora (Mexico). Outfitting at Tucson early in October, the party moved southward, visiting the known Papago rancherias and seeking others, and thus defining the eastern limits of the Papago country. On the approach to the southern limits of the tribal range toward Rio Sonora, the evil repute of the Seri Indians sounded larger and larger, suggesting the desirability of scientific study of the tribe; and it was decided to attempt investigation. Accordingly the party was reorganized at Hermosillo, and, with the sanction of the Secretary of State and Acting Governor, Señor Don Ramón Corral, proceeded to Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, 13 where a temporary Seri rancheria was found occupied by about sixty of the tribe, including subchief Mashém, who speaks Spanish. In this part of the work the expedition was accompanied by Señor Pascual Encinas, the owner of the rancho visited, and doubtless the best informed white man concerning the habits, customs, personnel, and habitat of the tribe. About a week was spent in intercourse with the occupants of the rancheria, when the studies were brought to an end through the illness of Señor Encinas, and the consequent necessity for return to Hermosillo. The expedition then proceeded northwestward and northward along a route so laid as to define the western limits of Papagueria proper, and reached Tucson near the end of the year. In addition to the leader, the party comprised Mr William Dinwiddie, photographer; José Lewis, Papago interpreter, and E. P. Cunningham, teamster. The outfit was furnished chiefly by Mr J. M. Berger, of San Xavier (near Tucson). On the visit to the Seri frontier the party was accompanied by Señor Encinas, Don Arturo Alvemar-Leon (who acted as Spanish interpreter), and two or three attachés of Molino del Encinas.1

The 1894 expedition was mainly focused on working with the Papago Indians in the somewhat unclear area known as Papagueria, located south of the Gila River and west of the Sierra Madre in southwestern Arizona and western Sonora (Mexico). The group prepared in Tucson at the beginning of October, then headed south, visiting the known Papago rancherias and trying to locate others, which helped define the eastern boundaries of Papago territory. As they approached the southern edge of the tribal range near the Rio Sonora, the negative reputation of the Seri Indians grew increasingly concerning, highlighting the need for scientific study of the tribe; therefore, they decided to investigate. The party was reorganized in Hermosillo, and with the approval of the Secretary of State and Acting Governor, Señor Don Ramón Corral, they moved on to Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, 13 where they found a temporary Seri rancheria occupied by about sixty tribe members, including subchief Mashém, who spoke Spanish. During this part of the expedition, they were joined by Señor Pascual Encinas, the owner of the rancho, who was likely the best-informed white person about the tribe's habits, customs, members, and living conditions. They spent about a week interacting with the rancheria's residents until their research was cut short by Señor Encinas's illness, which required them to return to Hermosillo. The expedition then continued northwest and north on a route designed to define the western limits of Papagueria proper, reaching Tucson near the year's end. Besides the leader, the party consisted of Mr. William Dinwiddie, photographer; José Lewis, Papago interpreter; and E. P. Cunningham, teamster. The equipment was mainly supplied by Mr. J. M. Berger from San Xavier (near Tucson). During the visit to the Seri frontier, the group was joined by Señor Encinas, Don Arturo Alvemar-Leon (who served as the Spanish interpreter), and two or three associates from Molino del Encinas.1

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. II

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. II

PASCUAL ENCINAS, CONQUEROR OF THE SERI

PASCUAL ENCINAS, CONQUEROR OF THE SERI

The second expedition was directed primarily toward investigation of the Seri, and only incidentally to continuation of the researches among the Papago. Outfitting at Tucson in October (again with the aid of Mr Berger), the expedition proceeded southward by a route different from those previously traversed, and carried forward a plane-table route survey covering a considerable zone from the international boundary at Sasabe to Rio Sonora. Descending the previously unmapped course of Rio Bacuache, the expedition reached the Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica on December 1, 1895, and, although conditions were found unfavorable in that the Seri were on the warpath, immediately prepared for the extension of the work into Seriland.

The second expedition was mainly focused on investigating the Seri, while also continuing research among the Papago on the side. After getting supplies in Tucson in October (with help from Mr. Berger again), the expedition headed south along a different route than before and conducted a plane-table route survey across a significant area from the international boundary at Sasabe to the Rio Sonora. Following the previously unmapped path of the Rio Bacuache, the expedition arrived at Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica on December 1, 1895. Even though conditions were tough with the Seri being hostile, they quickly got ready to extend their work into Seriland.

A preliminary trip was made into the mainland portion of the Seri habitat, terminating at the crest of Johnson peak, the highest point in Sierra Seri. The triangulation and topographic surveys were carried over the territory traversed, and several points were fixed on Isla Tiburon; but the natives, agitated by a skirmish with vaqueros on the frontier a day or two earlier, had withdrawn to remoter parts of the territory, and were not encountered. The party returned to Costa Rica, a rude boat was completed, transported across the desert via Pozo Escalante to Embarcadero Andrade, and launched in Bahia Kunkaak. The surveys were extended to the southern portion of Sierra Seri and Isla Tassne, and, after various difficulties and delays due to dearth of fresh water, to gales, and to other causes, the party (enlarged for the purpose) finally landed on Tiburon. Many Seri rancherias were found on 14 both sides of Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo. Some of these had been occupied almost to the hour of the visit, but the occupants had taken flight, leaving most of their unattached possessions behind, and were not seen, though it was evident that, like wary birds and game animals, they kept the invaders in sight from points of vantage and hidden lairs. The eastern scarps and foot-slopes of Sierra Kunkaak were traversed extensively and repeatedly; its crest was crossed by Mr Johnson with a small party at a point west of Punta Narragansett, and the triangulation and topographic sketching were connected with the work on the mainland and carried over practically the entire surface of the island, being tied to the work of the Hydrographic Office about the coasts. Then, despairing of finding the wary natives, and having exhausted food supplies, the party returned to the mainland and thence to Costa Rica, arriving in the evening of December 31.

A preliminary trip was made into the mainland part of the Seri habitat, ending at the top of Johnson Peak, the highest point in Sierra Seri. The triangulation and topographic surveys were conducted over the area traveled, and several points were identified on Isla Tiburon; however, the locals, unsettled by a skirmish with vaqueros on the border a day or two earlier, had moved to more remote areas and were not encountered. The group returned to Costa Rica, completed a rough boat, transported it across the desert via Pozo Escalante to Embarcadero Andrade, and launched it in Bahia Kunkaak. The surveys continued into the southern part of Sierra Seri and Isla Tassne, and after various difficulties and delays caused by a lack of fresh water, strong winds, and other issues, the expanded party finally landed on Tiburon. Many Seri rancherias were discovered on both sides of Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo. Some of these had been occupied up until the time of the visit, but the residents had fled, leaving most of their belongings behind, and they were not seen, though it was clear that, like cautious birds and game animals, they kept an eye on the intruders from hidden vantage points. The eastern slopes and foot-hills of Sierra Kunkaak were extensively and repeatedly traversed; its summit was crossed by Mr. Johnson with a small group at a point west of Punta Narragansett, and the triangulation and topographic sketching were linked with the work on the mainland, covering nearly the entire surface of the island, and connected to the work of the Hydrographic Office along the coasts. Then, giving up on finding the cautious locals and having run out of food supplies, the party returned to the mainland and then back to Costa Rica, arriving in the evening of December 31.

The original party comprised, in addition to the leader, Mr Willard D. Johnson, topographer; Mr J. W. Mitchell, photographer; Hugh Morris, Papago interpreter, and José Contrares, teamster. The party engaged in the expedition to Sierra Seri comprised the leader, Messrs Johnson and Mitchell, Mr L. K. Thompson of Hermosillo, Don Andrés Noriega of Costa Rica, José Contrares, and two Papago Indian guards, Miguel and Anton, of Costa Rica. The Tiburon party was made up of the leader, Messrs Johnson and Mitchell, S. C. Millard of Los Angeles, and Señores Andrés Noriega and Ygnacio Lozania, together with Ruperto Alvarez, a Yaqui Indian guard, and Miguel, Anton, Mariana, Anton Ortiz, and Anton Castillo, Papago guards; while Hugh Norris and José Contrares, with half a dozen Papago guards and other attachés of the rancho at Costa Rica, maintained an intermittent supply station at Embarcadero Andrade. Señor Encinas cooperated in the work of the expedition, part of the time at Costa Rica and part at Molino del Encinas, his principal hacienda in the outskirts of Hermosillo; while Mr Thompson and Dr W. J. Lyons aided in the work, the former at both Hermosillo and Costa Rica and the latter at Hermosillo.

The original group included, besides the leader, Mr. Willard D. Johnson, a topographer; Mr. J. W. Mitchell, a photographer; Hugh Morris, a Papago interpreter; and José Contrares, a teamster. The expedition to Sierra Seri was made up of the leader, Messrs. Johnson and Mitchell, Mr. L. K. Thompson from Hermosillo, Don Andrés Noriega from Costa Rica, José Contrares, and two Papago Indian guards, Miguel and Anton, from Costa Rica. The Tiburon group consisted of the leader, Messrs. Johnson and Mitchell, S. C. Millard from Los Angeles, and gentlemen Andrés Noriega and Ygnacio Lozania, along with Ruperto Alvarez, a Yaqui Indian guard, and Papago guards Miguel, Anton, Mariana, Anton Ortiz, and Anton Castillo; meanwhile, Hugh Norris and José Contrares, along with half a dozen Papago guards and other ranch staff from Costa Rica, managed a supply station at Embarcadero Andrade. Señor Encinas collaborated with the expedition, spending part of the time in Costa Rica and part at Molino del Encinas, his main hacienda on the outskirts of Hermosillo; while Mr. Thompson and Dr. W. J. Lyons contributed to the effort, with the former working in both Hermosillo and Costa Rica and the latter in Hermosillo.

The return trip from Costa Rica lay via Hermosillo, and permitted the extension of the plane-table surveys to this longitude. While at the city advantage was taken of the opportunity to obtain linguistic and other data from “El General” Kolusio, a full-blood Seri retained at the capital by the State for occasional duty as a Seri interpreter, who was obligingly assigned to the service of the party by Señor Don Ramón Corral, then governor of Sonora. At Hermosillo the leader of the expedition left the main party, which then proceeded northwestward and northward along the route followed by the 1894 expedition on the return journey, the party comprising Mr Johnson, in charge, with Messrs Mitchell and Millard, Hugh Norris, and José Contrares; and the plane-table surveys were continued and combined with the route surveys made on the outward journey. 15

The return trip from Costa Rica went through Hermosillo, allowing for the plane-table surveys to be extended to this longitude. While in the city, we took the opportunity to gather linguistic and other information from “El General” Kolusio, a full-blooded Seri who was kept in the capital by the State for occasional duties as a Seri interpreter. He was kindly assigned to assist our group by Señor Don Ramón Corral, who was the governor of Sonora at the time. In Hermosillo, the leader of the expedition parted ways with the main group, which then continued northwest and north along the route taken by the 1894 expedition on the way back. The party consisted of Mr. Johnson, in charge, along with Messrs. Mitchell and Millard, Hugh Norris, and José Contrares; and the plane-table surveys continued, merging with the route surveys conducted on the outward journey. 15

The principal ethnologic results of both expeditions relating to the Seri Indians are incorporated in the following pages; the data concerning the Papago are reserved for further study. The topographic surveys of the 1895 expedition covered a zone averaging 50 miles in width, extending from the international boundary to somewhat beyond Rio Sonora. Mr Johnson, by whom these surveys were executed, was on furlough from the United States Geological Survey, and his resumption of survey work prevented the construction of finished maps, except that of Seriland (plate I), which forms but a small fraction of the area surveyed. The results of the remaining, and by far the greater, part of the topographic surveys are withheld pending completion of the inquiries concerning the Papago Indians.

The main findings from both expeditions related to the Seri Indians are included in the following pages; the information about the Papago will be studied further. The topographic surveys from the 1895 expedition covered an area about 50 miles wide, stretching from the international border to just beyond Rio Sonora. Mr. Johnson, who conducted these surveys, was on leave from the United States Geological Survey, and his return to survey work delayed the creation of finalized maps, except for the one of Seriland (plate I), which is only a small part of the surveyed area. The results from the rest of the much larger part of the topographic surveys are on hold until the research concerning the Papago Indians is completed.


The geographic nomenclature found requisite in the field and in writing is partly new and partly restored, yet conforms with general and local custom so far as practicable; and nearly all of the new names have been applied in commemoration of explorers or pioneers. Most of the names pertaining to Seriland proper are incorporated in the map forming plate I; the others (including a few minor corrections) appear in the outline map forming figure 1, prepared after the larger sheet was printed.2

The geographic names used in both the field and in writing are partly new and partly restored, but they align with general and local customs as much as possible; almost all of the new names honor explorers or pioneers. Most of the names related to Seriland are included in the map shown in plate I; the others (including a few minor corrections) are on the outline map in figure 1, created after the larger sheet was printed.2

The following list of place-names is designed primarily to give the meaning and raison d’être of the nomenclature; with a single exception,3 the names are Hispanized or Mexicanized in accordance with local usage.

The following list of place names is mainly meant to explain the meaning and purpose of the names; with one exception, 3 the names are adapted to reflect Hispanic or Mexican usage based on local customs.

Nomenclature of Seriland.4

*Seriland: Extra-vernacular name of tribe, with English locative.

*Seriland: Additional non-native name for the tribe, along with the English location.

Mar de Cortés (Sea of Cortés=Gulf of California): Customary Sonoran designation, applied by Ulloa (1539) in honor of Hernando Cortés, first discoverer of the gulf.

Sea of Cortez (Sea of Cortés=Gulf of California): Traditional Sonoran name, given by Ulloa (1539) to honor Hernando Cortés, the first person to discover the gulf.

*Pasaje Ulloa (Ulloa passage): Generic Spanish; specific applied in honor of Captain Francisco de Ulloa, first navigator of the passage and the upper gulf, 1539.

*Pasaje Ulloa (Ulloa passage): Generic Spanish; specifically named in honor of Captain Francisco de Ulloa, the first navigator of the passage and the upper gulf, 1539.

*Estrecho Alarcon (Alarcon strait): Named in honor of Hernando de Alarcon, second navigator of the gulf; 1540.

*Estrecho Alarcon (Alarcon strait): Named after Hernando de Alarcon, the second navigator of the gulf; 1540.

El Infiernillo (The Little Hell): Local designation, retained by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N. (miswritten “Estrecho Infiernillo” on larger map).

El Infiernillo (The Little Hell): Local name, kept by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N. (incorrectly written as “Estrecho Infiernillo” on the larger map).

Boca Infierno (Mouth of Hell): A colloquial local designation (miswritten “Puerto Infierno” on larger map).

Boca Infierno (Mouth of Hell): A local nickname (incorrectly written as “Puerto Infierno” on larger maps).

*Bahia Kunkaak (Kunkaak bay): Generic Spanish; specific the vernacular name of the Seri tribe (miswritten “Tiburon bay” on plates IV and V). 16

*Bahia Kunkaak (Kunkaak bay): General Spanish; specifically the local name of the Seri tribe (incorrectly written as “Tiburon bay” on plates IV and V). 16

Fig. 1—Nomenclatural map of Seriland.

Fig. 1—Nomenclature map of Seriland.

17

17

Bahia Kino (Kino bay): Long-standing name given in honor of Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino, an early Jesuit missionary (the “Bahia San Juan Bautista” of various early maps); adopted in Anglicized form by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Bahía Kino (Kino Bay): A long-established name honoring Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino, an early Jesuit missionary (the “Bahia San Juan Bautista” of various early maps); this name was adopted in its Anglicized form by the U.S. Hydrographic Office.

Bahia Tepopa (Tepopa bay): Specific a corruption of Tepoka, the extra-vernacular name of a local tribe related to the Seri; applied in 1746 by Padre Consag, and used by most navigators and cartographers of later dates, though it does not appear on the charts of the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Bahia Tepopa (Tepopa bay): Specifically, it's a variation of Tepoka, the name of a local tribe connected to the Seri. This name was used in 1746 by Padre Consag and has been adopted by many navigators and cartographers since, although it doesn’t show up on the charts from the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Bahia Agua Dulce (Freshwater bay): Named by Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R. N., 1826; name retained (in Anglicized form) by Hydrographic Office, U. S. N. (The name is misplaced on Hardy’s map, but the bay is correctly located in his text, p. 293.)

Bahia Sweet Water (Freshwater Bay): Named by Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R. N., in 1826; the name has been kept (in an Anglicized version) by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N. (The name is incorrectly placed on Hardy’s map, but the bay is accurately described in his text, p. 293.)

Bahia Bruja (Witch bay): Named (in honor of his vessel) by its discoverer, Lieutenant Hardy, 1826.

Witch Bahia (Witch bay): Named (in honor of his ship) by its discoverer, Lieutenant Hardy, 1826.

*Bahia Espence (Spence bay): Named in honor of Pilot Tomás Espence (Thomas Spence), second circumnavigator of the island, who landed in the bay in 1844.

*Bahia Espence (Spence bay): Named after Pilot Tomás Espence (Thomas Spence), the second person to sail around the island, who arrived in the bay in 1844.

Estero Cochla (Cockle inlet): Named by Lieutenant Hardy, 1826.

Estero Cochla (Cockle inlet): Named by Lieutenant Hardy in 1826.

*Bajios de Ugarte (Ugarte shoals): Named in honor of Padre Juan de Ugarte, first visitor to the shoals and circumnavigator of Tiburon, 1721.

*Bajios de Ugarte (Ugarte shoals): Named after Padre Juan de Ugarte, the first person to visit the shoals and the one who circumnavigated Tiburon in 1721.

*Rada Ballena (Whale roadstead): Named from the stranding of a whale about 1887, an incident of much note among the Seri.

*Rada Ballena (Whale roadstead): Named after the stranding of a whale around 1887, an event that was significant to the Seri.

*Anclaje Dewey (Dewey anchorage): Named in honor of its discoverer, Commander (now Admiral) George Dewey, in charge of the surveys by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N., 1873.

*Dewey Anchor (Dewey anchorage): Named after its discoverer, Commander (now Admiral) George Dewey, who led the surveys by the Hydrographic Office, U.S. Navy, in 1873.

Laguna la Cruz (Lagoon of the Cross): Name adopted (Anglicized) by Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.; the “Laguna de los Cercaditos” (Lagoon of the Little Banks) of Colonel Francisco Andrade, 1844.

Laguna La Cruz (Lagoon of the Cross): Name adopted (Anglicized) by the U.S. Hydrographic Office; the “Laguna de los Cercaditos” (Lagoon of the Little Banks) of Colonel Francisco Andrade, 1844.

Isla Tiburon (Shark island): Name of long standing; used alternatively with “Isla San Agustin” since the seventeenth century, both names being apparently applied to Isla Tassne by several writers, and also to Isla Angel de la Guarda (the second largest island in the gulf) by Kino and others, while the present Tiburon was regarded as a peninsula.

Tiburón Island (Shark island): This name has been in use for a long time and has been used interchangeably with “Isla San Agustin” since the seventeenth century. Both names seem to have been used for Isla Tassne by various writers and for Isla Angel de la Guarda (the second largest island in the gulf) by Kino and others, while what we now call Tiburon was seen as a peninsula.

Isla San Esteban (Saint Stephen island): Name of long standing; in consistent use since early in the seventeenth century.

Isla San Esteban (Saint Stephen island): A name that has been around for a long time; in steady use since the early seventeenth century.

*Isla Tassne (Pelican island): Name recast by the use of the Seri specific in lieu of the Spanish (Alcatráz), which is too hackneyed for distinctive use.

*Isla Tassne (Pelican island): Name reinterpreted using the Seri language instead of the Spanish (Alcatráz), which is too clichéd for unique reference.

Isla Turner (Turner island): Name used (and probably applied in honor of Rear-Admiral Thomas Turner, U. S. N.) by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Isla Turner (Turner island): Name used (likely in honor of Rear-Admiral Thomas Turner, U.S. N.) by the Hydrographic Office, U.S. N.

Isla Patos (Duck island—i. e., Island of Ducks): Name of long standing; adopted by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Isla Patos (Duck Island—i.e., Island of Ducks): A name that has been used for a long time; accepted by the Hydrographic Office, U.S. N.

Roca Foca (Seal rock): Name used (and probably applied) by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Roca Foca (Seal rock): Name used (and likely assigned) by the U.S. Navy Hydrographic Office.

Peña Blanca (White crag): Name used (and probably applied) by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Peña Blanca (White crag): Name used (and likely designated) by the Hydrographic Office, U.S. Navy.

Punta Tepopa (Tepopa point): Named (probably corruptly) from a local tribe related to the Seri; used by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Tepopa (Tepopa point): Named (likely with some distortion) after a local tribe connected to the Seri; utilized by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Sargent (Sargent point): Name applied by Lieutenant Hardy in 1826 to what is now known as Punta Tepopa; adopted for the minor point by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Sargent (Sargent point): Name given by Lieutenant Hardy in 1826 to what is now called Punta Tepopa; accepted for the small point by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

*Punta Perla (Pearl point): Name applied in commemoration of the traditional pearl fisheries of the vicinity.

*Punta Perla (Pearl Point): This name honors the traditional pearl fisheries in the area.

*Punta Arena (Sand point): A descriptive designation.

*Punta Arenas (Sand point): A descriptive name.

*Punta Tortuga (Turtle point): Name applied in recognition of the extensive turtle fisheries of the Seri in the vicinity. 18

*Tortuga Point (Turtle Point): This name honors the large turtle fisheries of the Seri in the area. 18

*Punta Tormenta (Hurricane point): Name applied in recognition of the nearly continuous gales and tide-rips by which navigation is rendered hazardous, and by which the long sand-spit has been built.

*Storm Point (Hurricane point): This name is used because of the almost constant strong winds and tidal currents that make navigation dangerous, which also contributed to the formation of the long sand-spit.

Punta Miguel (Miguel point): Recast from “San Miguel point”, partly through association with the name of a Papago guard accompanying the expedition of 1895; in the old form the name is of long standing, was probably applied by Escalante in 1700, and was adopted by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N., 1873.

Punta Miguel (Miguel point): Changed from “San Miguel point,” partly due to the connection with the name of a Papago guard who was with the 1895 expedition; the original name has been around for a long time, likely given by Escalante in 1700, and was officially recognized by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N., in 1873.

*Punta Granita (Granite point): A descriptive designation.

*Punta Granita (Granite point): A name that describes the location.

*Punta Blanca (White point): A descriptive designation.

*Punta Blanca (White point): A descriptive name.

*Punta Narragansett (Narragansett point): Specific (of Algonquian Indian derivation) applied in commemoration of the vessel employed in the surveys by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N., in 1873, the point being that at which the commander of the Narragansett located the principal Seri rancheria of that time and made observations on the tribe.

*Narragansett Point (Narragansett point): Named specifically (of Algonquian Indian origin) in honor of the ship used in the surveys by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N., in 1873. This is the point where the commander of the Narragansett found the main Seri rancheria of that time and made observations on the tribe.

*Punta Ygnacio (Ygnacio point): Specific applied in honor of Don Ygnacio Lozania, a trusted aid in the 1895 expedition, who had visited this point in connection with the Andrade expedition of 1844; described as “Dark bluff” on charts of the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

*Punta Ignacio (Ygnacio point): Named in honor of Don Ygnacio Lozania, a reliable assistant in the 1895 expedition, who visited this point during the Andrade expedition of 1844; referred to as “Dark bluff” on charts from the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

*Punta Antigualla (Antiquity point—i. e., Point of Antiquities): Name applied in recognition of a great shell-mound which has retarded the transgression of the sea and produced the point.

*Punta Antigualla (Antiquity point—i. e., Point of Antiquities): This name is used to honor a large shell mound that has slowed down the encroachment of the sea and created the point.

Punta Kino (Kino point): Name of long standing; specific in honor of the early missionary; used by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Kino (Kino point): A long-standing name; specifically honoring the early missionary; used by the U.S. Naval Hydrographic Office.

*Punta Mashém (Mashém point): Specific in honor of the Seri chief Mashém (sometimes called Francisco Estorga or Juan Estorga), who speaks Spanish and acted as Seri-Spanish interpreter in 1894.

*Punta Mashém (Mashém point): Named after the Seri chief Mashém (who was also known as Francisco Estorga or Juan Estorga), who spoke Spanish and served as a Seri-Spanish interpreter in 1894.

Punta Monumenta (Monument point): Named by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Monumenta (Monument Point): Named by the U.S. Navy Hydrographic Office.

Punta Colorada (Red point): Recast from the “Red Bluff point” of the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Colorada (Red point): Revised from the “Red Bluff point” of the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Willard (Willard point): Origin of name unknown; used by the Hydrographic Office, U. S. N.

Punta Willard (Willard point): The origin of the name is unknown; used by the Hydrographic Office, U.S.N.

*Embarcadero Andrade (Andrade landing): Named in memory of the embarcation for Tiburon of Colonel Francisco Andrade, 1844.

*Embarcadero Andrade (Andrade landing): Named to honor the departure point for Tiburon of Colonel Francisco Andrade, 1844.

*Campo Navidad (Christmas camp): Named in memory of a camp occupied December 24-26 by the expedition of 1895.

*Christmas Camp (Christmas camp): Named to honor a camp that was occupied from December 24-26 by the expedition of 1895.

*Sierra Seri (Seri range): Generic Spanish, specific the extra-vernacular tribe name.

*Sierra Series (Seri range): General Spanish term, specifically the name of the extra-vernacular tribe.

*Sierra Kunkaak (Kunkaak range): Specific the vernacular tribe name.

*Sierra Kunkaak (Kunkaak range): Specify the local tribe name.

*Sierra Menor (Minor range): A descriptive designation.

*Sierra Minor (Minor range): A descriptive name.

*Cerros Anacoretos (Anchorite hills): A designation suggested to Topographer Johnson by the solitary series of spurs rising singly or in scattered groups from the sheetflood-carved desert plain.

*Anacoretos Hills (Anchorite hills): A name proposed to Topographer Johnson by the lonely series of ridges rising individually or in small clusters from the desert plain shaped by sheet flooding.

*Johnson Peak: Name applied in commemoration of the first and only ascent of the peak, and of its occupation as a survey station, December 7 and 8, 1895, by Willard D. Johnson, accompanied by John Walter Mitchell and Miguel (Papago Indian).

*Johnson Peak: Named in honor of the first and only climb of the peak, as well as its use as a survey station on December 7 and 8, 1895, by Willard D. Johnson, along with John Walter Mitchell and Miguel (Papago Indian).

*Desierto Encinas (Encinas desert): Generic Spanish, specific in honor of the intrepid settler on the outskirts of the desert, Señor Pascual Encinas.

*Encinas Desert (Encinas desert): This is a general Spanish term, specifically named after the brave settler on the edge of the desert, Mr. Pascual Encinas.

*Playa Noriega (Noriega playa): Generic Spanish, specific in honor of Don Andrés Noriega, kinsman of Señora Anita Encinas, a resident on the outskirts of the desert, and the leading Mexican aid in the expedition of 1895.

*Noriega Beach (Noriega beach): General Spanish term, specifically named after Don Andrés Noriega, relative of Señora Anita Encinas, who lived on the outskirts of the desert and was the main Mexican supporter in the 1895 expedition.

*Arenales de Gil (Gil sandbanks): Generic Spanish, specific in honor of Fray Juan Crisóstomo Gil de Bernabe, sole missionary to Seriland, massacred at this point in 1773.

*Arenales de Gil (Gil sandbanks): Generic Spanish, specifically named after Fray Juan Crisóstomo Gil de Bernabe, the only missionary to Seriland, who was killed at this spot in 1773.*

*Rio Sonora (Sonora river): Generic Spanish, specific a long standing and originally colloquial corruption of Señora, a designation said to have been applied 19 by Spanish pioneers to a hospitable native chieftainess; afterwards apparently fixed through the name of an early mining camp and garrison and perhaps by similarity to a local aboriginal (Opata) term connoting maize, i. e., sonot.

*Rio Sonora (Sonora river): This is a general Spanish term that originally came from a colloquial twist on Señora, a title claimed to have been given by Spanish pioneers to a welcoming native chieftainess. The name seems to have become established through an early mining camp and garrison, and possibly by resembling a local indigenous term (Opata) for maize, which is sonot. 19

Rio Bacuache (Bacuache river): Name of long standing; specific doubtless from the Opata term bacot, “snake”, with a locative termination, i. e., “Snake place”.

Rio Bacuache (Bacuache river): A long-standing name, likely originating from the Opata term bacot, meaning “snake,” with a locative ending, i.e., “Snake place.”

Arroyo Carrizal (Reedy arroyo): Generic and specific Spanish; colloquial designation used by the Seri chief Mashém in describing the island; a traditional name of long standing.

Carrizal Stream (Reedy arroyo): This is both a general and specific Spanish term; a casual name used by the Seri chief Mashém to refer to the island; it's a traditional name that has been used for a long time.

Arroyo Agua Dulce (Freshwater arroyo): A traditional name like the former, also used by Mashém.

Sweet Water Creek (Freshwater stream): A traditional name similar to the previous one, also used by Mashém.

*Arroyo Millard (Millard arroyo): Named in memory of S. C. Millard, aid and interpreter in the expedition of 1895 (died 1897).

*Arroyo Millard (Millard arroyo): Named to honor S. C. Millard, who served as an aide and interpreter during the 1895 expedition (passed away in 1897).

*Arroyo Mariana (Mariana arroyo): Named in honor of Mariana (Papago Indian), a guard accompanying the 1895 expedition, who had once approached this arroyo on a hunting expedition.

*Mariana Creek (Mariana arroyo): Named to honor Mariana (a Papago Indian), a guide who was part of the 1895 expedition and had previously visited this arroyo during a hunting trip.

*Arroyo Mitchell (Mitchell arroyo): Named in honor of John Walter Mitchell, photographer of the 1895 expedition.

*Arroyo Mitchell (Mitchell arroyo): Named after John Walter Mitchell, the photographer from the 1895 expedition.

Pozo Escalante (Escalante well): Generic Spanish, specific in honor of Sergeant Juan Bautista de Escalante, the first Caucasian to cross El Infiernillo (in 1700), who is reputed to have dug the shallow well still existing; the name has been retained ever since alternatively with “Agua Amarilla” (Yellow water); doubtless the “Carrizal” of certain early maps; the site of the only mission ever established in Seriland, and of the massacre of Fray Crisóstomo Gil in 1773.

Pozo Escalante (Escalante well): This is a common name in Spanish, specifically named after Sergeant Juan Bautista de Escalante, the first white person to cross El Infiernillo in 1700. He's believed to have dug the shallow well that still exists today. The name has continued to be used, along with “Agua Amarilla” (Yellow water), and is likely the same as the “Carrizal” found on some early maps. It’s also the location of the only mission ever established in Seriland and the site of the massacre of Fray Crisóstomo Gil in 1773.

*Pozo Hardy (Hardy well): Named in honor of Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R. N., second known Caucasian visitor to the spot, 1826.

*Hardy Well (Hardy well): Named after Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R. N., the second known white visitor to the site, 1826.

*Aguaje Anton (Anton water, or water-hole): Generic a common Mexican term; specific applied in memory of Anton (Papago Indian), a guard and visitor to the spot in the expedition of 1895.

*Aguaje Anton (Anton water, or water-hole): A common Mexican term; specifically named in memory of Anton (a Papago Indian), who was a guard and visitor to the location during the expedition of 1895.

*Aguaje Parilla (Parilla water): A traditional water (not found by the expedition of 1895) named in memory of Colonel Diego Ortiz Parilla, the vaunted destroyer of the Seri in 1749, whose imposing expedition may have reached this point.

*Aguaje Grill (Parilla water): A traditional water (not discovered by the 1895 expedition) named after Colonel Diego Ortiz Parilla, the famed conqueror of the Seri in 1749, whose notable expedition might have reached this location.

*Barranca Salina (Saline gorge): Generic colloquial Mexican, specific denoting the character of the practically permanent water; the designation applied by Mexican vaqueros and Papago hunters, who occasionally visit the locality.

*Barranca Salina (Saline gorge): A term commonly used in Mexico to describe the nature of the almost always present water; it's what Mexican cowboys and Papago hunters call this area when they visit.

*Tinaja Anita (Anita basin): Generic a useful Mexican term for a water-pocket, or rock basin containing water supplied by storms or seepage; specific a tribute to Anita Newcomb McGee, M. D., Actg. Asst. Surg. U. S. A.; perhaps the “Aguaje de Andrade” of 1844.

*Tinaja Anita (Anita basin): A common Mexican term for a water pocket or rock basin that holds water from storms or seepage; specifically named after Anita Newcomb McGee, M. D., Acting Assistant Surgeon U. S. A.; possibly the "Aguaje de Andrade" of 1844.

*Tinaja Trinchera (Entrenched basin): Specific a common Mexican term for the ancient entrenchments found on many mountains of Papagueria; applied in recognition of a few low, loose-laid stone walls about the tinaja, the only structures of the kind known in Seriland.

*Tinaja Trench (Entrenched basin): This is a specific Mexican term for the ancient trenches found on many mountains in Papagueria. It refers to a few low, loosely stacked stone walls around the tinaja, which are the only known structures of this kind in Seriland.

Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica: Name applied by the founder, Señor Pascual Encinas, about 1850.

Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica: Name given by the founder, Mr. Pascual Encinas, around 1850.

Rancho Santa Ana: Name applied by the founder, Señor Encinas, about 1870.

Rancho Santa Ana: Name given by the founder, Señor Encinas, around 1870.

Rancho Libertad: Name applied by the founder, Señor Encinas, about 1875.

Liberty Ranch: Name given by the founder, Mr. Encinas, around 1875.

The fairly full geographic nomenclature of Seriland merely expresses the necessity for place-names, felt in some measure by all intelligent beings, and realized especially by explorers and describers of the region. Excepting the ranchos and perhaps Pozo Escalante, they denote natural features only, and, with the same exceptions, the features are seen but rarely or from great distances by enlightened men. Despite 20 the wealth of place-names and the strongly accentuated configuration which the nomenclature expresses, Seriland is one of the most hopeless deserts of the American hemisphere.

The extensive geographic names in Seriland highlight the need for place-names, something that all intelligent beings recognize to some degree, especially those who explore and describe the area. Aside from the ranchos and possibly Pozo Escalante, these names only refer to natural features, and, with those exceptions, these features are rarely seen or are only visible from far away by knowledgeable people. Despite the abundance of place-names and the distinct landscape that the names represent, Seriland remains one of the most desolate deserts in the Americas.

Acknowledgments

Since most of the field work of the two expeditions lay in the neighboring Republic of Mexico, it became necessary to ask official sanction for the operations from the Mexican government; and it is a pleasure to say that every possible privilege and courtesy were extended by both federal and state officials. Especial acknowledgments are due to the Mexican minister (and afterward ambassador) to the United States, his Excellency Don Mateo Romero (now deceased); to the Ministro de Fomento of the Mexican Republic, Excelencia Don Fernando Leal; and to the governor of the State of Sonora, Señor Don Ramón Corral. Equal acknowledgments are due to various United States officials, notably Honorable W. Woodville Rockhill, First Assistant Secretary of State when the expeditions were planned; and it is a pleasure to advert to the active interest taken in both expeditions by Honorable S. P. Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, and to the careful attention given the 1894 expedition by the late Dr G. Brown Goode, Assistant Secretary of the Institution.

Since most of the fieldwork from the two expeditions took place in the neighboring Republic of Mexico, it was necessary to seek official approval for the operations from the Mexican government. I’m pleased to report that every possible privilege and courtesy was extended by both federal and state officials. Special thanks go to the Mexican minister (who later became the ambassador) to the United States, His Excellency Don Mateo Romero (now deceased); to the Ministro de Fomento of the Mexican Republic, His Excellency Don Fernando Leal; and to the governor of the State of Sonora, Señor Don Ramón Corral. Thanks are also due to various United States officials, especially Honorable W. Woodville Rockhill, First Assistant Secretary of State when the expeditions were planned; and I am happy to mention the active interest shown in both expeditions by Honorable S. P. Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, and the careful attention given to the 1894 expedition by the late Dr. G. Brown Goode, Assistant Secretary of the Institution.

Mr Willard D. Johnson did invaluable service in connection with the second expedition, particularly in the execution of surveys and the construction of maps in inimitable style. Mr William Dinwiddie is to be credited with the excellent photographs made during the 1894 expedition, with the representation of the devices used in Seri face-painting, and with various other aids to the investigation; while Mr J. W. Mitchell is to be credited with the photographs made on Isla Tiburon, and with other contributions to the success of the 1895 expedition. Acknowledgments are due also to all of the participants in both expeditions, whose names appear in other paragraphs. Their contributions were not primarily intellectual, yet were of a kind and amount to be forever remembered among men who have worked and hungered and thirsted and stood guard together. The deepest debt connected with the field work is to the now venerable but ever vigorous pioneer, Señor Pascual Encinas; and no small part of this debt goes over to his estimable spouse, Señora Anita Encinas, who twice traversed the long road from Hermosillo to Costa Rica in the interest of the 1895 expedition.

Mr. Willard D. Johnson provided invaluable support during the second expedition, especially in conducting surveys and creating maps in a unique style. Mr. William Dinwiddie deserves recognition for the outstanding photographs taken during the 1894 expedition, including images of the tools used in Seri face-painting, as well as various other contributions to the research. Mr. J. W. Mitchell is credited with the photographs taken on Isla Tiburon and for other contributions to the success of the 1895 expedition. Thanks are also owed to all the participants in both expeditions, whose names are listed in other paragraphs. Their input was not primarily intellectual, but was significant enough to be remembered by those who have worked, endured, and stood together through challenges. The biggest debt from the fieldwork goes to the now-respected but still energetic pioneer, Señor Pascual Encinas; and a significant portion of this debt also goes to his admirable wife, Señora Anita Encinas, who made the long journey from Hermosillo to Costa Rica twice for the sake of the 1895 expedition.

The scientific results of the researches have been enriched by invaluable contributions from Director Powell’s store of ethnologic knowledge, and by suggestions from Messrs Frank Hamilton Cushing, F. W. Hodge, James Mooney, and other collaborators in the Bureau of American Ethnology. The qualities of the colored illustrations are due largely to the artistic skill of Mr Wells M. Sawyer, by whom they were designed, and of Mr DeLancey Gill, by whom the proofs were revised. The Spanish translations are due chiefly to Colonel F. F. 21 Hilder, ethnologic translator of the Bureau, partly to Mr Emanuele Fronani; though neither can be charged with errors of interpretation or of Englishing, both finally shaped by the author. The somatic determinations and discussions were by Dr Ales Hrdlička, of New York; the tests for arrow poison were made by Dr S. Weir Mitchell, of Philadelphia; while the philologic comparisons were made almost wholly (with notable thoroughness and perspicacity, and in such wise as to illustrate the wealth and utility of the linguistic collections of the Bureau) by Mr J. N. B. Hewitt. Finally, it has become due, probably for the first time in the nearly four centuries of their history, to make public acknowledgment of services by Seri Indians, viz., subchief Mashém, the real sponsor for the Bureau vocabulary and many other data, and “El General” Kolusio, the outlaw interpreter of Hermosillo and contributor to certain historical identifications. 22

The scientific findings of the research have been greatly enhanced by the invaluable contributions from Director Powell's extensive knowledge of ethnology and by suggestions from Frank Hamilton Cushing, F. W. Hodge, James Mooney, and other collaborators at the Bureau of American Ethnology. The quality of the colored illustrations is primarily due to the artistic talent of Wells M. Sawyer, who designed them, and DeLancey Gill, who revised the proofs. The Spanish translations were mainly done by Colonel F. F. Hilder, the ethnologic translator for the Bureau, and partly by Emanuele Fronani; however, neither can be blamed for any errors in interpretation or in the English translations, which were ultimately shaped by the author. The discussions and determinations regarding human characteristics were conducted by Dr. Ales Hrdlička from New York; the tests for arrow poison were performed by Dr. S. Weir Mitchell from Philadelphia; while the linguistic comparisons were mostly done by J. N. B. Hewitt, with notable thoroughness and insight, illustrating the richness and usefulness of the linguistic collections of the Bureau. Lastly, it is probably for the first time in their nearly four-century history that we publicly acknowledge the contributions of the Seri Indians, specifically subchief Mashém, who was the true sponsor for the Bureau vocabulary and many other data, and “El General” Kolusio, the outlaw interpreter from Hermosillo and contributor to certain historical identifications.


HABITAT

Location and Area

Seriland, the home from time immemorial of the Seri Indians, lies in northwestern Mexico, forming a part of the State of Sonora. It comprises Tiburon island, the largest and most elevated insular body in Gulf of California, together with a few islets and an adjacent tract of mainland; the center of the district being marked approximately by the intersection of the parallel of 29° with the meridian of 112°. The territory is divided by the narrow but turbulent strait, El Infiernillo. It is bounded on the west and south by the waters of the gulf with its eastward extensions to Kino bay, on the east by a nearly impassable desert, and on the north by a waterless stretch of sandy plains and rugged sierras 50 to 100 miles in extent.

Seriland, home to the Seri Indians for ages, is located in northwestern Mexico, part of the State of Sonora. It includes Tiburon Island, the largest and highest island in the Gulf of California, along with a few smaller islets and an adjacent piece of mainland; the center of the area is roughly at the intersection of the 29° parallel and the 112° meridian. The territory is split by the narrow but rough strait known as El Infiernillo. It is bordered to the west and south by the waters of the gulf, extending eastward to Kino Bay, to the east by a nearly impassable desert, and to the north by a dry stretch of sandy plains and rugged mountains that spans 50 to 100 miles.

Tiburon island is about 30 miles in length from north to south and 12 to 20 miles in width; its area, with that of the adjacent islets, is barely 500 square miles. The mainland tract held by the Seri is without definite boundary; measured to the middle of the limiting desert on the east and halfway across the waterless zone on the north, its area may be put at 1,500 square miles. To this land area of 2,000 square miles may be added the water area of the strait, with its northern and southern embouchures, and the coastwise waters habitually navigated by the Seri balsas as far as Kino bay, making half as much more of water area. Such is the district which the Seri claim and seek to control, and have practically protected against invasion for nearly four centuries of history and for uncounted generations of prehistory.

Tiburon Island is about 30 miles long from north to south and 12 to 20 miles wide; its total area, including the nearby islets, is just under 500 square miles. The mainland area owned by the Seri doesn't have clear boundaries; when measured to the middle of the surrounding desert on the east and halfway across the arid zone on the north, its size can be estimated at 1,500 square miles. This brings the total land area to 2,000 square miles, plus the water area of the strait, including its northern and southern openings, and the coastal waters that the Seri regularly navigate with their balsas as far as Kino Bay, which adds an additional equal amount of water area. This is the region that the Seri claim and seek to control, and they have effectively protected it from outside invasion for nearly four centuries, as well as through countless generations of prehistory.

Physical Traits

Seriland forms part of a great natural province lying west of the Sierra Madre of western Mexico and south of an indefinite boundary about the latitude of Gila river, which may be designated the Sonoran province; it differs from Powell’s province of the Basin ranges in that it opens toward the sea, and also in other respects; and it is allied in many of its characteristics to the arid piedmont zone lying west of the Andes in South America.

Seriland is part of a large natural area located west of the Sierra Madre in western Mexico and south of a vague boundary around the latitude of the Gila River, which can be called the Sonoran province. It differs from Powell’s Basin Ranges province because it faces the sea and has other differences as well. Additionally, it shares many features with the dry foothill region situated west of the Andes in South America.

In general configuration the province may be likened to a great roof-slope stretching southwestward from a comb in the Sierra Madre to a broad eaves-trough forming Gulf of California, the slope rising steeper toward the crest and lying flatter toward the coast; but the expanse is warped by minor swells, guttered by waterways, and dormered by outlying 23 ranges and buttes. The most conspicuous inequality of the slope (partly because of its coincidence with tide-level) is offered by the rugged ranges of Seriland. These may be considered four in number, all approximately parallel with each other and with the coast; the first is a series of eroded remnants (Cerros Anacoretos) from 600 to 1,200 feet in height; the second is the exceedingly rugged Sierra Seri, culminating in Johnson peak 5,000 feet above tide; the third is Sierra Kunkaak, attaining about 4,000 feet in its highest point; the fourth is Sierra Menor, some 2,000 feet high, with the northern extremity sliced off obliquely by marine erosion. The principal arm of Desierto Encinas lies between the first two ranges, El Infiernillo separates the second and third, while a subdesert valley divides the third from the fourth. The valleys correspond more closely than the ranges; if the land level were 100 feet higher the strait and its terminal bays would become an arid valley like the others, while if the sea-level were 500 feet higher the four ranges would become separate islands similar to Angel de la Guarda and others in the gulf.

In its overall shape, the province resembles a large sloped roof that extends southwest from a ridge in the Sierra Madre down to a broad trough forming the Gulf of California. The slope is steeper toward the peak and flatter near the coast, but the land is uneven with minor hills, cut by rivers, and interspersed with outlying ranges and buttes. The most notable feature of the slope, mainly due to its alignment with tide levels, is the jagged ranges of Seriland. There are four main ranges, all roughly parallel to each other and the coast. The first range consists of eroded remnants (Cerros Anacoretos) that rise between 600 to 1,200 feet; the second is the very rugged Sierra Seri, which peaks at Johnson Peak at 5,000 feet above tide level; the third is Sierra Kunkaak, reaching about 4,000 feet at its highest point; and the fourth is Sierra Menor, about 2,000 feet high, with its northern end worn away by the ocean. The main arm of Desierto Encinas lies between the first two ranges, El Infiernillo separates the second and third, while a subdesert valley divides the third from the fourth. The valleys are more aligned than the ranges; if the land were 100 feet higher, the strait and its terminal bays would turn into a dry valley like the others, while if sea level were 500 feet higher, the four ranges would be turned into separate islands like Angel de la Guarda and others in the gulf.

The Sonoran province is notably warm and dry. The vapor-laden air-currents from the Pacific drift across it and are first warmed by conduction and radiation from the sun-scorched land, to be chilled again as they roll up the steeper roof-slope to the crest; and the precipitation flows part way down the slopes, both eastward and westward from the Sierra Madre—literally the Mother (of waters) range. A climatal characteristic of the province is two relatively humid seasons, coinciding with the two principal inflections of the annual temperature-curve, i. e., in January-February and July-August, respectively. In the absence of meteorologic records the temperature and precipitation maybe inferred from the observations at Yuma and Tucson,5 which are among the warmest and driest stations in America, or indeed in the world; though it is probable that such points as Caborca, Bacuachito, and Hermosillo are decidedly warmer and perhaps slightly moister than Yuma. The ordinary midday summer temperature at these points may be estimated at about 110° in the shade (frequently rising 5° or 10° higher, but dropping 20° to 50° in case of cloudiness); the night temperature at the same season is usually 50° to 75°, though during two-thirds of the year it is liable to fall to or below the freezing point. The sun temperature is high in comparison with that measured in the shade, the exposed thermometer frequently rising to 150° or 160°, according to its construction, while black-finished metal becomes too hot to be handled, and dark sand and rocks literally scorch unprotected feet. The leading characteristic of the temperature is the wide diurnal range and the relatively narrow annual range; another characteristic is the uniformity, or periodic steadiness, of the maxima, coupled with variability and nonperiodicity of the minima. 24

The Sonoran region is definitely warm and dry. Air currents from the Pacific, filled with moisture, move across it and are first heated by the sun-baked land, then cooled again as they rise up the steep slopes to the peak; precipitation falls partway down the slopes, both east and west from the Sierra Madre—literally the Mother (of waters) range. A defining feature of the region’s climate is two relatively humid seasons, occurring with the two main peaks of the annual temperature curve, specifically in January-February and July-August. In the absence of weather records, temperature and precipitation can be inferred from observations in Yuma and Tucson, which are among the hottest and driest locations in America, or even in the world; however, it’s likely that places like Caborca, Bacuachito, and Hermosillo are significantly warmer and maybe slightly wetter than Yuma. The typical midday summer temperature at these locations can be estimated at around 110°F in the shade (often rising 5° or 10° higher, but dropping 20° to 50° if it's cloudy); the nighttime temperature during the same season usually ranges from 50° to 75°, although for about two-thirds of the year it can fall to or below freezing. The temperature in direct sunlight is much higher than the shade, with exposed thermometers often reaching 150° or 160°F, depending on their design, while black-finished metal gets too hot to touch, and dark sand and rocks can literally burn unprotected feet. The main feature of the temperature is the significant daily range and the relatively small annual range; another characteristic is the consistency, or regular stability, of the maximum temperatures, combined with the variability and unpredictability of the minimums. 24

The precipitation on the Sonoran province is chiefly in the form of rain; in the winter humid season snow falls frequently on the Sierra Madre and rarely on the outlying ranges; in both humid seasons (and in humid spots at all seasons) dew forms in greater or less abundance. Fog frequently gathers along the coast, especially during the winter and in the midsummer wet season, and sometimes drifts inland for miles. The mean annual precipitation may be estimated at 20 or 25 inches toward the crest and half as much toward the base of the high sierra; thence it diminishes coastward, probably to less than 2 inches; the mean for the extensive plains forming the greater part of the province may be estimated at 3 or 4 inches. The greater part of the precipitation is in 25 local storms, frequently accompanied by thunder-gusts or sudden tempests, though cold drizzles sometimes occur, especially at the height of the winter humid season. Except where the local configuration is such as to affect the atmospheric movements, the distribution of precipitation is erratic, in both time and space; some spots may receive half a dozen rains within a year, while other spots may remain rainless for several years; and the wet spot of one series of years may be the dry spot of the next.

The rainfall in the Sonoran province mainly comes in the form of rain; during the winter rainy season, snow often falls on the Sierra Madre and rarely on the surrounding ranges; in both rainy seasons (and in humid areas year-round), dew forms in varying amounts. Fog often develops along the coast, especially in winter and during the mid-summer wet season, and sometimes drifts inland for miles. The average annual precipitation is estimated to be around 20 to 25 inches at the peak and about half that amount at the base of the high sierra; from there, it decreases toward the coast, likely dropping to less than 2 inches; the average for the wide plains that make up most of the province is estimated to be around 3 or 4 inches. Most precipitation occurs during local storms, which are often accompanied by thunderstorms or sudden tempests, although cold drizzles can happen, especially during the peak of the winter rainy season. Unless the local landscape influences the air movement, the distribution of precipitation is unpredictable, both in time and place; some areas may experience half a dozen rainfalls in a year while others might go for several years without any rain; and the wet area in one series of years might be the dry area in the next. 25

The climatal features of Seriland are somewhat affected by the pronounced topographic features of the district. Snow sometimes falls on Sierra Seri, and probably on Sierra Kunkaak; gales gather about the rugged ranges at all seasons, and sometimes produce precipitation out of season; the extreme heat of midday and midsummer is tempered by the proximity of the tide-swept gulf; and since most of the local derangements tend to augment precipitation and reduce temperature, it would seem safe to estimate the mean annual rainfall of the tract at 4 or 5 inches, and the mean temperature at about 70°, with a mean annual range of some 30° and an extreme diurnal range of fully 80°.

The climate of Seriland is influenced by the area's distinct topography. Snow occasionally falls on Sierra Seri and likely on Sierra Kunkaak as well. Strong winds swirl around the rugged mountains year-round and can cause off-season rain; the intense heat of midday and midsummer is softened by the nearby tide-swept gulf. Since most local variations increase rainfall and lower temperature, it’s reasonable to estimate the average annual rainfall for the region at 4 to 5 inches, with an average temperature around 70°, an annual temperature range of about 30°, and a daily range of up to 80°.

The configuration and climate combine to give distinctive character to the hydrography of the Sonoran province. The melting snows and more abundant rains of the high sierras form innumerable streams flowing down the steeper slopes toward the piedmont plains, or soak into the pervious rocks to reappear as springs at lower levels; sometimes the streams unite to form considerable rivers, flowing scores of miles beyond the mountain confines; but eventually all the running waters are absorbed by the dry sands of the plains or evaporated into the drier air; and from the mouth of the Colorado to that of the Taqui, 500 miles away, no fresh water ever flows into the sea. During the winter wet season, and to a less extent during that of summer, the mountain waterways are occupied by rushing torrents, rivaling great rivers in volume, and these floods flow far over the plains; but during the normal droughts the torrents shrink to streamlets purling among the rocks, or give place to blistering sand-wastes furlongs or even miles in width and dozens of miles in length, while beyond stretch low, radially scored alluvial fans, built by the great freshets of millenniums. Only a trifling part of the rainfall of the plains ever gathers in the waterways heading in the mountains, and only another small part gathers in local channels; the lighter rains from higher clouds are so far evaporated in the lower strata of the air as to reach the earth in feeble sprinkles or not at all; the product of moderate showers is absorbed directly by earth and air; while the water of heavy rains accumulates in mud-burdened sheets, spreading far over the plains, flowing sluggishly down the slopes, yet suffering absorption by earth and air too rapidly to permit concentration in channels. These moving mud-blankets of the plains, or sheetfloods,6 are often supplemented by 26 the discharge from the waterways of adjacent sierras and buttes; they are commonly miles and frequently dozens or scores of miles in width, and the linear flow may range from a fraction of a mile to scores of miles according to the heaviness of the rainfall and the consequent dilution of the mud. Such sheetfloods, especially those produced by considerable rains, are characteristic agents of erosion throughout most of the province; their tendency is to aggrade depressions and corrade laterally, and thus to produce smooth plains of gentle slope interrupted only by exceptionally precipitous and rugged mountain remnants. A part of the sheetflood water joins the stronger mountain-born streams, particularly toward the end of the great storm whereby earth and air are saturated; another part forms ground-water, which slowly finds its way down the slopes toward the principal valleys, perhaps to reappear as springs or to supply wells. These with certain other conditions determine the water-supply available for habitation throughout Seriland and adjacent Papagueria.

The layout and climate come together to give a unique character to the water systems of the Sonoran region. The melting snow and more frequent rains of the high mountains create countless streams that flow down the steep slopes toward the foothill plains or seep into porous rocks, emerging as springs at lower elevations. Sometimes, the streams merge to form significant rivers that flow dozens of miles beyond the mountains; however, eventually all the flowing water is absorbed by the dry sands of the plains or evaporates into the arid air, and from the mouth of the Colorado River to that of the Taqui, 500 miles away, no fresh water ever reaches the sea. During the winter wet season and, to a lesser extent, in summer, the mountain streams are filled with rushing torrents that rival major rivers in volume, flooding far across the plains. Yet during normal droughts, these torrents shrink to small streams trickling among the rocks, or give way to blistering expanses of sand that can stretch for furlongs or even miles in width and dozens of miles in length, while beyond lie low, radially scored alluvial fans created by ancient floods. Only a tiny portion of the rainfall on the plains collects in the waterways that originate in the mountains, and only another small fraction collects in local channels; the light rains from higher clouds evaporate in the lower air layers before reaching the ground, resulting in weak sprinkles or none at all. The effects of moderate showers are absorbed directly by the earth and air, while the water from heavy rains gathers in muddy sheets that spread far across the plains, flowing sluggishly down the slopes but being absorbed by the earth and air too quickly to form concentrated channels. These moving mud blankets of the plains, or sheet floods, 6 are often enhanced by runoff from the nearby mountain streams and buttes; they typically extend for miles and often dozens of miles in width, while the flow can range from a fraction of a mile to many miles depending on the intensity of the rain and the resulting mud dilution. Such sheet floods, especially those caused by significant rainfall, are key agents of erosion throughout most of the region; their tendency is to fill in depressions and erode sideways, creating smooth plains with gentle slopes, interrupted only by notably steep and rugged mountain remnants. Some of the sheet flood water joins the stronger streams that originate from the mountains, especially after major storms that saturate the earth and air; another portion becomes groundwater, slowly making its way down the slopes toward the main valleys, potentially reappearing as springs or supplying wells. These factors, along with certain other conditions, determine the water supply available for habitation throughout Seriland and the neighboring Papagueria.

Another condition of prime importance arises in a secular tilting of the entire province southwestward. This tilting is connected with the upthrust of the Sierra Madre and the uplifting of the plateau country and the southern Rocky mountain region north of the international boundary. Its rate is measured by the erosion of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado and other gorges; and its dates, in terms of the geologic time-scale, run at least from the middle Tertiary to the present, or throughout the Neocene and Pleistocene. Throughout this vast period the effect of the tilting in the Sonoran province has been to invigorate streams flowing southward, and to paralyze streams flowing toward the northerly and easterly compass-points; accordingly the streams flowing toward the gulf have eroded their channels effectively during the ages, and have frequently retrogressed entirely through outlying ranges; so that throughout the province the divides seldom correspond with the sierra crests.

Another important condition arises from a southwestward tilt of the entire region. This tilt is related to the uplift of the Sierra Madre and the rising of the plateau area and the southern Rocky Mountain region north of the international border. Its rate can be measured by the erosion of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado and other gorges, and its timeline, according to the geologic time scale, spans at least from the middle Tertiary to the present, covering both the Neocene and Pleistocene epochs. Throughout this long period, the tilting in the Sonoran region has strengthened streams flowing south while weakening those moving toward the north and east. As a result, the streams heading toward the gulf have carved their channels deeply over time and have often retreated entirely through the surrounding ranges, meaning that in the region, the divides rarely align with the mountain peaks.

A typical stream of the province is Rio Bacuache, one of the two practicable overland ways into Seriland (albeit never surveyed until traversed by the 1895 expedition). Viewed in its simple geographic aspect, this stream may be said to originate in a broad valley parallel with the gulf and the high sierra, 200 miles northeast of Kino bay; its half-dozen tributary arroyos (sun-baked sand-washes during three hundred and sixty days and mud-torrents during five days of the average year) gather in the sheetflood plain and unite at Pozo Noriega, where the ground-water gives permanent supply to a well; then the channel cleaves a rocky sierra 3,000 feet high in a narrow gorge, and within this canyon the ground-water gathered in the valley above seeps to the surface of the sand-wash and flows in a practically permanent streamlet throughout the 4 or 5 miles forming the width of the sierra; then the liquid sinks, and 25 miles of blistering sand-wash (interrupted by a single lateral spring) stretch across the next valley 27 to Pueblo Tiejo, where another sierra is cleft by the channel, and where the water again exudes and flows through a sand-lined rock-bed (figure 2). In the local terminology this portion alone is Rio Bacuache, the upper stretches of the waterway bearing different names; it supplies the settlement and fields of Bacuachito, flowing above the sands 5 to 15 miles, according to season; then it returns to the sand-wash habit for 50 miles, throughout much of which distance wells may find supply at increasing depths; finally it passes into the delta phase, and enters northeastern Seriland in a zone marked by exceptionally vigorous mesquite forests. Normally the 200 miles of stream way is actual stream only in two stretches of say 5 miles each, some 25 miles apart, and the farther of these stops midway between the head of the channel and the open sea toward which it trends and slopes; but during and after great storms it is transformed into a river approaching the Ohio or the Rhine in volume, flowing tumultuously for 150 miles, and finally sinking in the sands of Desierto Encinas, 30 to 50 miles from the coast. Viewed with respect to genesis, Rio Bacuache has responded to the stimulus of the southwestern tilting, and has retrogressed up the slope through two sierras, besides minor ranges and 100 miles of sheetflood-carved plains; while the debris thus gathered has filled the original gorge to a depth of hundreds of feet, and has overflowed the adjacent sheetflood-flattened expanses to form the great alluvial fan of eastern Seriland. The genetic conditions explain the distribution 28 of the water: the product of the semiannual storms suffices to form a meager supply of ground water, which is diffused in the sands and softer rocks of the plains, and concentrated in the narrow channels carved through the dense granites of the sierras; and enough of the flow passes the barriers to supply deep wells in the terminal fan, as at the frontier ranchos Libertad (abandoned) and Santa Ana, just as the subterranean seepage from the Sonora more richly supplies the deep well at San Francisco de Costa Rica. In these lower reaches the mineral salts, normally present in minute quantities, are concentrated so that the water from these wells is slightly saline, while deeper in the desert the scanty water is quite salt.

A typical river in the region is the Rio Bacuache, one of the two feasible overland routes into Seriland (though it was never mapped until the 1895 expedition). Geographically, this stream starts in a broad valley that runs parallel to the gulf and the high mountains, 200 miles northeast of Kino Bay. Its six tributaries—dry sand washes for about 360 days a year and muddy torrents for five days—collect in a floodplain and merge at Pozo Noriega, where groundwater provides a permanent supply for a well. The river then cuts through a rocky mountain range, 3,000 feet high, in a narrow gorge. Within this canyon, the groundwater from the valley above seeps out into the sand wash, flowing almost continuously for about 4 to 5 miles across the width of the mountain range. After that, the water disappears, and a 25-mile stretch of hot, sandy wash (broken up by a single lateral spring) extends to Pueblo Tiejo, where the river again cuts through the mountains, and the water seeps out again, flowing through a sand-filled rock bed (figure 2). Locally, this part of the river is called Rio Bacuache; the upstream sections have different names. It supplies the community and fields of Bacuachito, flowing over the sand for 5 to 15 miles, depending on the season; then it turns back into the sand-wash experience for 50 miles, during which time wells can provide water at increasing depths. Eventually, it enters a delta phase and flows into northeastern Seriland, an area characterized by robust mesquite forests. Typically, the 200 miles of the river is only a real stream in two sections, each about 5 miles long and roughly 25 miles apart. The farther section is located midway between the head of the river and the open sea that it flows toward; however, during heavy storms, it transforms into a river with a volume comparable to the Ohio or the Rhine, flowing vigorously for 150 miles before finally disappearing into the sands of Desierto Encinas, 30 to 50 miles from the coast. In terms of its formation, Rio Bacuache has adjusted to the southwestern tilt and has retreated up the slope through two mountain ranges, in addition to smaller ranges and 100 miles of floodplains carved by sheet floods. The debris collected has filled the original gorge to a depth of hundreds of feet and has overflowed onto the adjacent flat areas, creating the large alluvial fan of eastern Seriland. The genetic conditions clarify the distribution of the water: the result of the biannual storms is enough to create a minimal groundwater supply, which spreads through the sands and softer rocks of the plains and concentrates in narrow channels cut through the dense granite of the mountains. Enough of the flow makes it past the obstacles to supply deep wells in the terminal fan, like at the now-abandoned ranchos Libertad and Santa Ana, similar to how underground seepage from Sonora provides more generously for deep wells at San Francisco de Costa Rica. In these lower sections, mineral salts, usually found in small amounts, become concentrated so that the water from these wells is slightly salty, while deeper in the desert, the scarce water is quite salty.

Fig. 2—Gateway to Seriland—gorge of Rio Bacuache.

Fig. 2—Gateway to Seriland—gorge of Rio Bacuache.


In Seriland proper the distribution of potable water is conditioned by the meager precipitation, the local configuration (shaped largely by sheetflood erosion), and the disturbance of equilibrium of the scanty ground-water due to the tilting of the province. The most abundant permanent supply of fresh water is that of Arroyo Carrizal, which is fed by drainage and seepage from the broad and lofty mass of pervious rocks forming the southern part of Sierra Kunkaak, the abundant supply being due to the fact that the eastern tributaries are energetically retrogressing into the mass in deep gorges which effectually tap the water stored during the semiannual storms. The arroyo and valley of Agua Dulce are less favorably conditioned by reason of a trend against the tilting of the province and by reason of the narrower and lower mass of tributary rock in the northern part of the range, and the flow is impermanent, as indicated by the absence of canes and other stream plants; yet four explorers (Ugarte, 1721; Hardy, 1826; Espence, 1844; Dewey, 1875) reported fresh water, apparently in a shallow well tapping the underflow, at the embouchure of the arroyo. On the eastern slope of Sierra Kunkaak there are several arroyos which carry water for weeks or even months after the winter rains, and sometimes after those of summer; but the only permanent water—Tinaja Anita—is at the base of a stupendous cliff of exceptionally pervious and easily eroded rocks, so deeply cut that ground-water is effectually tapped, while an adjacent chasm—Arroyo Millard—is so situated that the cliff-faced spur of the sierra above the tinaja absorbs an exceptional proportion of the surface flowage from the main crest. The tinaja (figure 3) is permanent, as indicated by a canebrake some 20 by 50 feet in extent, and by a native fig and a few other trees—though the dry-season water-supply ranges from mere moisture of the rocks to a few gallons caught in rock basins within the first 50 yards of the head of the arroyo. No other permanent supplies of fresh water are known on the island, though there are a few rather persistent tinajas along the western base of Sierra Menor above Willard point.

In Seriland, the availability of drinking water is affected by low rainfall, the local landscape (largely shaped by sheetflood erosion), and the disruption of the limited groundwater balance due to the province's tilting. The most reliable source of fresh water is Arroyo Carrizal, which gets its supply from drainage and seepage from the broad and high layer of permeable rocks in the southern part of Sierra Kunkaak. This plentiful supply is mainly because the eastern tributaries are actively eroding into the rock mass, creating deep gorges that effectively access the water stored during the biannual storms. The arroyo and valley of Agua Dulce are less favorably situated due to the direction against the province's tilting and because of the narrower and lower layer of tributary rock in the northern part of the range, leading to an inconsistent flow, as evidenced by the lack of reeds and other stream plants. However, four explorers (Ugarte, 1721; Hardy, 1826; Espence, 1844; Dewey, 1875) reported finding fresh water, apparently from a shallow well tapping into the underflow, at the mouth of the arroyo. On the eastern slope of Sierra Kunkaak, several arroyos carry water for weeks or even months after the winter rains, and sometimes after the summer rains; but the only consistent water source—Tinaja Anita—is at the base of a massive cliff made of highly permeable and easily eroded rocks, which is so deeply cut that it effectively accesses groundwater. Meanwhile, an adjacent chasm—Arroyo Millard—is positioned such that the cliff-faced spur of the sierra above the tinaja absorbs a significant amount of surface runoff from the main ridge. The tinaja (figure 3) is permanent, as shown by a canebrake approximately 20 by 50 feet in size and a native fig tree along with a few other trees—though the water supply during the dry season ranges from just moisture on the rocks to a few gallons collected in rock basins within the first 50 yards at the head of the arroyo. No other permanent sources of fresh water are known on the island, although there are a few fairly persistent tinajas along the western base of Sierra Menor above Willard Point.

On the mainland tract there is a cliff-bound basin, much like that of Tinaja Anita, at the head of Arroyo Mitchell and base of Johnson peak, christened Tinaja Trinchera; but the range is narrow and the rocks 29 granitic, and hence the supply is not quite permanent.7 A practically permanent supply of water is found in one or more pools or barrancas at the head of Playa Noriega in Desierto Encinas. The liquid lies in pools gouged by freshets in the bottoms of arroyos coming in from the northward, just where the flow is checked by the spread of the waters over the always saline playa; and, since they are modified by each freshet, they are sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, sometimes entirely sand-filled. When the barrancas are clogged, or when their contents are evaporated, coyotes, deer, horses, and vaqueros obtain water by excavating a few feet in the sand lining the larger arroyos. Commonly the barranca water is too saline for Caucasian palates save in dire extremity, but the salinity diminishes as the arroyos are ascended. An apparently permanent supply of saline and nitrous water is found in a 10-foot well, known as Pozo Escalante, or Agua Amarilla (yellow water), near the southern extremity of Desierto Encinas, reputed to have been excavated by Juan Bautista de Escalante in 1700, and still remaining open; its location is such that it catches the subterranean seepage from both Bacuache and Sonora rivers. The water is potable but not palatable. Among the vaqueros of San Francisco de Costa Rica there is a vague and ancient tradition of a carrizal-marked tinaja or arroyo (Aguaje Parilla) at the eastern base of the southern portion of Sierra Seri; and both vaqueros and Indians 30 refer to one or more saline barrancas about the western base of the same semirange, probably in Arroyo Mariana.

On the mainland, there's a cliff-bound basin similar to Tinaja Anita, located at the head of Arroyo Mitchell and the base of Johnson Peak, called Tinaja Trinchera. However, the range is narrow, and the rocks are granitic, so the water supply isn't very reliable. A usually steady water supply is found in one or more pools or gullies at the head of Playa Noriega in Desierto Encinas. The water collects in pools carved out by seasonal floods in the bottoms of arroyos coming from the north, right where the flow is held back by the spread of water over the always salty playa. Since these pools change with each flood, they can be deep, shallow, or completely filled with sand. When the gullies are blocked or when the water evaporates, coyotes, deer, horses, and cowboys dig a few feet into the sand lining the larger arroyos for water. Usually, the gullies' water is too salty for Caucasian tastes unless it's an emergency, but the saltiness decreases as you go upstream. There’s also a seemingly permanent supply of saline and nitrous water found in a 10-foot well known as Pozo Escalante or Agua Amarilla (yellow water), located near the southern edge of Desierto Encinas. It's said to have been dug by Juan Bautista de Escalante in 1700 and is still open. Its location allows it to catch the underground seepage from both the Bacuache and Sonora rivers. The water is drinkable but not very pleasant. A vague and ancient tradition among the cowboys of San Francisco de Costa Rica speaks of a reed-marked tinaja or arroyo (Aguaje Parilla) at the eastern base of the southern part of Sierra Seri, and both cowboys and Indigenous people mention one or more saline gullies near the western base of the same mountain range, likely in Arroyo Mariana.

Fig. 3—Tinaja Anita.

Fig. 3—Tinaja Anita.

In brief, Arroyo Carrizal, Tinaja Anita, and Pozo Escalante are the only permanent waters, and Pozo Hardy, Barranca Salina, and Tinaja Trinchera the only subpermanent waters actually known to Caucasians in all Seriland, though it seems probable that permanent water may exist at Aguaje Parilla and in Arroyo Mariana, and impermanent supplies near Bahia Espence. There may be one or two additional places of practically permanent water in smaller quantity, and a few other places in which saline water might be found either at the surface or by slight excavation, and which may be approximately located by inspection of the map under guidance of the principles set forth in the preceding paragraphs; but this would seem to be the limit of trustworthy water supply. During the humid seasons the waters are naturally multiplied, yet it is improbable that any of the arroyos except Carrizal and Agua Dulce and a few minor gulches along the more precipitous shores shed water into the gulf save at times of extraordinary local flood.8

In short, Arroyo Carrizal, Tinaja Anita, and Pozo Escalante are the only permanent water sources, while Pozo Hardy, Barranca Salina, and Tinaja Trinchera are the only semi-permanent water sources known to Caucasians in all of Seriland. However, it seems likely that permanent water may exist at Aguaje Parilla and in Arroyo Mariana, with temporary supplies near Bahia Espence. There might be one or two more places with nearly permanent water in smaller amounts, as well as a few locations where saline water could be found either on the surface or with minor digging, and these can be roughly identified by inspecting the map using the principles outlined in the previous paragraphs. But that seems to be the extent of reliable water sources. During wet seasons, water naturally increases, but it's unlikely that any of the arroyos, except Carrizal and Agua Dulce along with a few smaller streams on the steeper shores, will drain into the gulf except during times of extraordinary local flooding.


The geologic structure of the Sonoran province is complex and not well understood. So far as the meager observations indicate, the basal rocks are granites, frequently massive and sometimes schistose, sometimes intersected by veins of quartz, etc. The granitic mass is upthrust to form the nuclei of Sierra Madre and other considerable ranges; it also approaches the surface over large areas of plains. Resting unconformably on the granites lie heavy deposits of shales and limestones, commonly more or less metamorphosed; these rocks outcrop on the slopes of most of the main ranges and form the entire visible mass of some of the lower sierras and buttes, while they, too, sometimes approach the surface of the sheetflood-carved plain. The rocks, both calcareous and argillaceous, combine the characters of the vast Mesozoic limestone deposits of eastern Mexico and the immense shale accumulations of corresponding age in California, and hence probably represent the later half of the Mesozoic. This is the only sedimentary series recognized in the province. Both the granites and the sedimentary beds are occasionally overlain by volcanic deposits, chiefly in the form of much-eroded lava-sheets and associated tuff-beds, which sometimes form considerable ranges and buttes (notably Sierra Kunkaak, of Isla Tiburon); these remnantal volcanic deposits are probably late Mesozoic or early Tertiary. Newer volcanics occur locally, forming mesas, as about Agua Nueva (40 miles northwest of Hermosillo), or even coulees apparently filling barrancas of modern aspect, as in the vicinity of Bacuachito,9 or rising into cinder cones surrounded by 31 ejectamenta, as at Pico Pinacate, in northwestern Sonora. The various rocks are usually bare or meagerly mantled with talus in the mountains; over the greater part of the plains they are commonly veneered with sheetflood deposits, ranging from a few inches to a few yards in thickness; while the central portions of the larger valleys are lined with alluvial accumulations reaching many hundreds of feet in thickness.

The geological structure of the Sonoran region is complicated and not fully understood. Based on limited observations, the base rocks appear to be granites, which are often massive and sometimes schistose, with some areas intersected by quartz veins. The granite formations are pushed up to create the cores of the Sierra Madre and other significant ranges, and they also come close to the surface across large areas of plains. On top of the granites, there are thick deposits of shales and limestones, which are often somewhat metamorphosed; these rocks emerge on the slopes of most major ranges and make up the visible mass of several lower sierras and buttes, while they also tend to rise to the surface of the sheetflood-formed plains. The rocks, both limestone and clay-rich, show characteristics of the vast Mesozoic limestone deposits in eastern Mexico and the enormous shale accumulations of a similar age in California, likely representing the latter half of the Mesozoic era. This is the only sedimentary series identified in the region. Both the granites and the sedimentary layers are sometimes covered by volcanic deposits, mostly in the form of heavily eroded lava sheets and associated tuff beds, which can create significant ranges and buttes (notably Sierra Kunkaak on Isla Tiburon); these leftover volcanic deposits are likely from the late Mesozoic or early Tertiary periods. More recent volcanics are found locally, forming mesas like those around Agua Nueva (40 miles northwest of Hermosillo), or even filling coulees that appear modern, as seen near Bacuachito, or rising into cinder cones surrounded by ejecta, like at Pico Pinacate in northwestern Sonora. Generally, the various rocks are mostly bare or only lightly covered with talus in the mountains; across much of the plains, they are often topped with sheetflood deposits that vary in thickness from a few inches to several yards; while the central parts of the larger valleys are covered in alluvial deposits that can reach hundreds of feet thick.

The clearly interpretable geologic history began with extensive degradation and eventual baseleveling of a granitic terrane in Paleozoic or early Mesozoic time; then followed the deposition of the shales and associated limestones during the later Mesozoic; next came elevation, accompanied or followed by corrugation, chiefly in folds parallel with the present coast, whereby the granite-based sierras were produced, and accompanied also by the earlier vulcanism to which the volcanic sierras owe their existence. A vast period of degradation ensued, during which the land stood so high as to induce greater precipitation than that of today and to permit the streams to carve channels far below the present level of tide, and during which the present general configuration was developed; then came the southwestward tilting and consequent climatal desiccation, the filling of the deeper valleys, the inauguration of sheetflood erosion, some local vulcanism, and the progressive shifting of the divides.

The clearly understandable geological history started with significant erosion and eventual leveling of a granitic area in the Paleozoic or early Mesozoic era; this was followed by the deposition of shales and associated limestones during the later Mesozoic. Next came uplift, accompanied or followed by folding, mainly in patterns parallel to the current coast, which led to the formation of granite-based mountain ranges and was also influenced by earlier volcanic activity that created the volcanic mountain ranges. A lengthy period of erosion followed, during which the land was so high it caused more rainfall than today and allowed rivers to carve channels well below the current tide level, shaping the existing landscape. Then there was southwestward tilting and subsequent drying of the climate, filling of the deeper valleys, the start of sheetflood erosion, some local volcanic activity, and the gradual shifting of the divides.

The geologic structure affects the hydrography, especially that factor determined by subterranean circulation, or ground-water; for the superficial sheetflood and alluvial deposits are highly pervious and many of the volcanics hardly less so, while the shales and limestones are but slightly pervious and the granites nearly impervious. The geologic structure also determines the character of the soil with exceptional directness, since the dryness of the air and the dearth of vegetation reduce rock decay to a negligible quantity. The characteristically precipitous sierras and cerros are of naked ledges, save where locally mantled with a mechanical débris of the same rocks (much finer than the frost product of colder and humider regions); the soil of the normal plains is but the little-oxidized upper surface of sheetflood deposits made up of the mechanical debris of local rocks and varying in coarseness with the slope; while the soil of the valleys is detrital sand and silt, derived from tributary slopes, passing into adobe where conditions are fit, and essentially mechanical in texture and structure save where cemented by ground-water solutions at the lower levels.

The geological structure influences the water systems, especially regarding underground circulation or groundwater; the surface sheet flows and alluvial deposits are very porous, and many of the volcanic rocks are almost as permeable, while shales and limestones are only slightly permeable, and granites are nearly impermeable. The geological structure also directly affects the type of soil because the dry air and lack of vegetation reduce rock decay to almost nothing. The steep mountain ranges and hills are mostly bare rock, except where they are locally covered with fine debris from the same rocks (much finer than the frost debris found in colder, wetter areas); the soil in the typical plains is just the lightly oxidized top layer of sheet flood deposits made from the debris of local rocks, varying in coarseness with the slope; while the soil in the valleys consists of sandy silt from nearby slopes, turning into adobe where conditions allow and is mainly mechanical in texture and structure, except where it gets cemented by groundwater solutions at lower levels.

Plants

The flora of the Sonoran province affords a striking example of the adjustment of vegetal life to an unfavorable environment. The prevailing vegetation is perennial, of slow growth and of stunted aspect; and it is not distributed uniformly but arranged in separate tufts or clusters, gathering into a nearly continuous mantle in wetter spots, though commonly dotting the plains sparsely, to completely disappear 32 in the driest areas. Nearly all of the plants have roots of exceptional length, and are protected from evaporation by a glazed epidermis and from animal enemies by thorns or by offensive odors and flavors; while most of the trees and shrubs are practically leafless except during the humid seasons. Grasses are not characteristic, and there is no sward, even in oases; but certain grasses grow in the shadow of the arborescent tufts and in the fields of the farmer ants, or spring up in scattered blades over the moister portions of the surface. The arborescent vegetation represents two characteristic types, viz., (1) trees and shrubs allied to those of humid lands, but modified to fit arid conditions; and (2) distinctive forms, evidently born of desert conditions and not adapted to a humid habitat, this type comprising the cacti and related forms, as well as forms apparently intermediate between the cacti and normal arborescent type. The various plants of the district, including those of the distinctive types, are communal or commensal, both among themselves and with animals, to a remarkable degree; for their common strife against the hard physical environment has forced them into cooperation for mutual support. The tufts or clusters in which the vegetation is arranged express the solidarity of life in the province; commonly each cluster is a vital colony, made up of plants of various genera and orders, and forming a home for animal life also of different genera and orders; and, although measurably inimical, these various organisms are so far interdependent that none could survive without the cooperation of the others.10

The plant life in the Sonoran region is a striking example of how vegetation adapts to a harsh environment. The main type of vegetation is perennial, grows slowly, and looks stunted; it's not evenly spread out but is found in separate clumps or clusters, forming a nearly continuous layer in wetter areas, while it often sparsely dots the plains and can completely vanish in the driest spots. Most plants have exceptionally long roots and are protected from evaporation by a shiny outer layer, as well as from animals by thorns or off-putting smells and tastes; additionally, most trees and shrubs are almost leafless except during the wet seasons. Grasses aren't typical, and there's no grassy ground cover, even in oases; however, some grasses do grow in the shade of the tree-like clusters and in the fields of farmer ants, or pop up in scattered patches over the wetter areas. The tree-like vegetation consists of two main types: (1) trees and shrubs related to those found in wetter areas, but adapted to dry conditions; and (2) unique forms that have clearly evolved in desert conditions and aren't suited for wetter habitats, including cacti and similar plants, as well as some forms that seem like a mix between cacti and typical tree forms. The various plants in the area, including the unique types, form communities or share space with animals in a remarkable way; their shared struggle against the tough physical environment has driven them into cooperative relationships for mutual support. The clumps or clusters of vegetation highlight the interconnectedness of life in the region; often, each cluster acts as a living community, made up of plants from different genera and orders, and providing a home for various animal life as well, also from different genera and orders; although they may be somewhat harmful to each other, these different organisms rely on one another to the extent that none could survive without the cooperation of the others.32

In Seriland proper, as in other parts of the Sonoran province, a prevailing tree is the mesquite (Prosopis juliflora); on the alluvial fan of Rio Sonora it grows in remarkable luxuriance, forming (with a few other trees) a practically continuous forest 20 to 40 feet in height, the gnarled trunks sometimes reaching a diameter of 2 or 3 feet; over the Rio Bacuache fan and much of the remaining plain surface it forms the dominant tree in the scattered vital colonies; and here and there it pushes well into the canyon gorges. The roots of the mesquite are of great length, and are said to penetrate to water-bearing strata at depths of 50 to 75 feet; its fruit consists of small hard beans embedded in slender woody pods. Associated with the mesquite in most stations are the still more scraggy and thorny cat-claw (Acacia greggii) and ironwood (Olneya tesota), both also yielding woody beans in limited quantity. Similarly associated, especially in the drier tracts, and characteristically abundant over the plains portions of Isla Tiburon, are the paloverdes (Parkinsonia torreyana, etc.), forming scraggy, wide-branching, greenbark trees 5 to 15 feet high, and commonly 3 to 10 inches in diameter of trunk. Over the mountain sides, especially of Sierra Seri and Sierra Kunkaak, grow sparsely the only straight-trunk trees of the region, rooted in the rocks to the average number of a few score to the square 33 mile; this is the palo blanco (Acacia willardiana). Associated with it along rocky barrancas of permanent water supply is a fig tree (Ficus palmeri), which has a habit of springing from the walls and crests of cliffs, and sending white-bark roots down the cliff-faces to the water 50 or 100 feet below, and which yields a small, insipid, and woody fruit. Interspersed among the larger trees, and spreading over the intervening spaces, particularly in the drier and more saline spots, grow a number of thorny shrubs, much alike in external appearance and habit, though representing half a dozen distinct genera (Cassia, Microrhamnus, Celtis, Krameria, Acacia, Randia, Stegnospherma, Frankenia, etc.), while considerable tracts are sparsely occupied by straggling tufts of the Sonoran greasewood, or creosote bush (Larrea tridentata), whose minute but bright green leafage relieves that prevailing gray of the landscape in which the lighter greens of the paloverde and cactus stems are lost.

In Seriland, like in other areas of the Sonoran region, the dominant tree is the mesquite (Prosopis juliflora); it thrives on the alluvial fan of the Rio Sonora, creating a nearly unbroken forest that stands 20 to 40 feet tall, with gnarled trunks sometimes reaching 2 to 3 feet in diameter. Along the Rio Bacuache fan and much of the surrounding plains, it is the main tree in scattered, vibrant clusters, and it even reaches into canyon gorges in some places. The roots of the mesquite are quite long, said to reach water-bearing layers at depths of 50 to 75 feet; its fruit consists of small, hard beans nestled in slender, woody pods. Usually found alongside the mesquite are the even scraggly and thorny cat-claw (Acacia greggii) and ironwood (Olneya tesota), both also producing limited quantities of woody beans. Similarly found, particularly in dryer areas and notably abundant on the plains of Isla Tiburon, are the paloverdes (Parkinsonia torreyana, etc.), which grow into scraggly, wide-branching trees with green bark, typically 5 to 15 feet tall and ranging from 3 to 10 inches in trunk diameter. On the mountainsides, especially in the Sierra Seri and Sierra Kunkaak, you can find the only straight-trunk trees in the region, rooted in the rocks at an average density of a few dozen per square mile; this is the palo blanco (Acacia willardiana). Along rocky barrancas with a permanent water supply, there's also a fig tree (Ficus palmeri) that often springs from the walls and tops of cliffs, sending white-bark roots down the cliff faces to reach the water 50 or 100 feet below, producing small, bland, woody fruit. Among the larger trees, especially in dryer and saltier areas, you'll find various thorny shrubs that look similar and have comparable growth habits, representing about half a dozen distinct genera (Cassia, Microrhamnus, Celtis, Krameria, Acacia, Randia, Stegnospherma, Frankenia, etc.), while significant areas are sparsely filled with scattered tufts of the Sonoran greasewood or creosote bush (Larrea tridentata), whose tiny but vibrant green leaves brighten the otherwise gray landscape, where the lighter greens of the paloverde and cactus stems blend in.

Fig. 4—Beyond Encinas desert—the saguesa.

Fig. 4—Beyond Encinas desert—the saguaros.

Intermingling with the woody trees and shrubs in most stations, and replacing them in some, are the conspicuous and characteristic cacti in a score of forms. East of Desierto Encinas, and sometimes west of it, these are dominated by the saguaro (Cereus giganteus), though throughout most of Seriland the related saguesa (Cereus pringleii?) prevails. The saguaro is a fluted and thorn-decked column, 1 foot to 3 feet in diameter and 10 to 60 feet in height, sometimes branching into a candelabrum, while the still more monstrous saguesa (figure 4) usually consists of from three to ten such columns springing from a 34 single root; both are masses of watery pulp, revived and renewed during each humid season, and both flower in a crown of fragrant and brilliant blossoms at or near the top of column or branch, and fruit in fig-like tunas (or prickly pears) during late summer or early autumn. Ordinarily the saguesa, like the saguaro, is sparsely distributed; but there is an immense tract between Desierto Encinas and the eastern base of Sierra Seri in which it forms a literal forest, the giant trunks close-set as those of trees in normal woodlands. Hardly less imposing than the giant cactus is the wide-branching species known as pitahaya (Cereus thurburi?), in which the trunks may be ten to fifty in number, each 4 to 8 inches in diameter and 5 to 40 feet in height; and equally conspicuous, especially in eastern Seriland, is the cina (Cereus schotti), which is of corresponding size, and differs chiefly in the simpler fluting of the thorn-protected columns. Both the pitahaya and the cina flower and fruit like the saguaro, the tunas yielded by the former being especially esteemed by Mexicans as well as Indians. Another important cactus is the visnaga (Echinocactus wislizeni lecontei), which rises in a single trunk much like the saguaro, save that it is commonly but 3 to 6 feet in height and is protected by a more effective armature of straight and curved thorns; it yields a pleasantly acid, pulpy fruit, which may be extracted from its thorny setting with some difficulty; but its chief value lies in the purity and potability of the water with which the pulpy trunk is stored. The visnaga is widely distributed throughout the Sonoran province and beyond, and extends into eastern Seriland; it is rare west of Desierto Encinas and is practically absent from Isla Tiburon, where it may easily have been exterminated by the improvident Seri during the centuries of their occupancy. Most abundant of all the cacti, and less conspicuous only by reason of comparatively small size, is the cholla (an arborescent Opuntia); on many of the sheetflood-carved plains it forms extensive thickets 5 to 8 feet high, the main trunks being 2 to 6 inches in diameter, while dozens or hundreds of gaunt and thorn-covered branches extend 3 to 8 feet in all directions; and it occurs here and there throughout the district from the depths of the valleys and the coast well up to the rocky slope of the sierras. It yields quantities of fruit, somewhat like tunas, but more woody and insipid; this fruit is seldom if ever used for human food, but is freely consumed by herbivores. Much less abundant than the cholla is the nopal, or prickly pear; and there are various other opuntias, often too slender to stand alone and intertwined with stiffer shrubs which lend them support, and many of these yield small berry-like tunas. Another characteristic cactus, widespread as the cholla and abundant in nearly all parts of Seriland save on the rocky slopes, is the okatilla (Fouquiera splendens). It consists of half a dozen to a score of slender, woody, and thorn-set branches radiating from a common root, usually at angles of 30° to 45° from the vertical, and ordinarily reaching heights of 10 to 20 feet. 35

Intermingling with the woody trees and shrubs in most areas, and replacing some of them, are the striking and distinctive cacti in numerous shapes. East of Desierto Encinas, and occasionally west of it, these are predominantly the saguaro (Cereus giganteus), although across most of Seriland the related saguesa (Cereus pringleii?) is more common. The saguaro is a fluted and thorn-covered column, ranging from 1 to 3 feet in diameter and 10 to 60 feet tall, sometimes branching out like a candelabrum, while the even larger saguesa (figure 4) generally consists of three to ten columns rising from a single root; both are made up of watery pulp, replenished during each humid season, and both bloom with a crown of fragrant and vibrant flowers at or near the top of the column or branch, producing fig-like tunas (or prickly pears) in late summer or early autumn. Typically, the saguesa, like the saguaro, is spread out; however, there's a vast area between Desierto Encinas and the eastern base of Sierra Seri where it forms a true forest, with the giant trunks closely packed like trees in typical woodlands. Almost as impressive as the giant cactus is the wide-branching species known as pitahaya (Cereus thurburi?), which may have ten to fifty trunks, each 4 to 8 inches in diameter and 5 to 40 feet tall; equally noticeable, especially in eastern Seriland, is the cina (Cereus schotti), which is similar in size and mainly differs in the simpler fluting of the thorn-protected columns. Both the pitahaya and the cina bloom and bear fruit like the saguaro, with the tunas from the pitahaya being particularly valued by both Mexicans and Indians. Another significant cactus is the visnaga (Echinocactus wislizeni lecontei), which grows as a single trunk similar to the saguaro, but is usually only 3 to 6 feet tall and has a more effective protective covering of straight and curved thorns; it produces a pleasantly sour, pulpy fruit, which can be difficult to extract from its thorny exterior; however, its main value lies in the clean, drinkable water stored in its pulpy trunk. The visnaga is widely found throughout the Sonoran province and beyond, extending into eastern Seriland; it is uncommon west of Desierto Encinas and is virtually absent from Isla Tiburon, where it may have been wiped out by the careless Seri during their centuries of residence. The most abundant cactus, and less noticeable only due to its smaller size, is the cholla (an arborescent Opuntia); in many of the sheetflood-carved plains, it forms dense thickets 5 to 8 feet high, with main trunks measuring 2 to 6 inches in diameter, while dozens or hundreds of tall, thorny branches spread out 3 to 8 feet in all directions; it can be found throughout the area, from the depths of the valleys and the coast up to the rocky slopes of the sierras. It produces a lot of fruit, somewhat like tunas but more woody and bland; this fruit is rarely, if ever, eaten by humans, but is commonly consumed by herbivores. Much less common than the cholla is the nopal, or prickly pear; there are various other opuntias, often too slender to stand alone and intertwined with tougher shrubs for support, many of which produce small berry-like tunas. Another typical cactus, as widespread as the cholla and abundant in nearly all parts of Seriland except on rocky slopes, is the okatilla (Fouquiera splendens). It consists of six to twenty slender, woody, thorny branches radiating from a common root, usually at angles of 30° to 45° from the vertical, and typically grows to heights of 10 to 20 feet.

The pulp masses of the larger cacti, especially the saguaro, saguesa, pitahaya, and cina, are supported by woody skeletons in the form of vertical ribs coincident with the external flutings; within a few years after the death and decay of these desert monsters the skeletons weather out, and the vertical ribs form light and strong and approximately straight bars or shafts, valuable for many industrial purposes; while the slender arms of okatilla are equally valuable, in the fresh condition after removal of the spiny armament, and in the weathered state without special preparation.

The pulp of larger cacti, especially the saguaro, saguesa, pitahaya, and cina, is supported by woody frameworks made up of vertical ribs that align with their outer grooves. A few years after these desert giants die and decompose, the skeletons erode, and the vertical ribs turn into lightweight, strong, and mostly straight bars or shafts, which are useful for various industrial applications. Meanwhile, the slender arms of okatilla are also quite valuable, both when freshly cut after removing the spines and in their weathered state without any special treatment.

On many of the higher plain-slopes, especially in eastern Seriland, there are pulpy stemmed shrubs and bushes, sometimes reaching the dignity of trees, which present the normal aspect of exogenous perennials during life, but which are so spongy throughout as to shrink into shreds of bark-like debris shortly after death. These are the torotes of the Sonoran province—common torote (Jatropha cardiophylla), torote amarillo (Jatropha spathulata), torote blanco (Bursera microphylla), torote prieto (Bursera laxiflora), torotito (Jatropha canescens?), etc. These plants grow in the scattered and scraggy tufts characteristic of arid districts (a typical torote tuft appears in left foreground of figure 4); they are protected from evaporation by the usual glazed epidermis, and maintained by the water absorbed during the humid seasons; but they are thornless and are protected from animal enemies by pungent odors, and at least in some cases by toxic juices. Like various plants of the province they are measurably communal—indeed, the torotito appears to be dependent on union with an insect for reproduction, like certain yuccas, and like the cina and (in some degree at least) the saguaro and other cacti.

On many of the higher slopes, especially in eastern Seriland, there are thick-stemmed shrubs and bushes that sometimes grow into trees. While they look like typical perennial plants when alive, they're so spongy that they break down into bark-like bits soon after they die. These are the torotes of the Sonoran region—common torote (Jatropha cardiophylla), torote amarillo (Jatropha spathulata), torote blanco (Bursera microphylla), torote prieto (Bursera laxiflora), torotito (Jatropha canescens?), and others. These plants grow in the scattered, scraggly clumps typical of dry areas (a typical torote clump is shown in the left foreground of figure 4); they are protected from evaporation by a shiny outer layer and are sustained by water absorbed during the wet seasons. They are thornless and defend themselves against animals with strong odors, and in some cases, by toxic juices. Like several plants in the region, they tend to grow together—indeed, the torotito seems to rely on a partnership with an insect for reproduction, similar to certain yuccas, and to some extent the cina and the saguaro and other cacti.

Along the lower reaches of Rio Bacuache, and in some of the deeper gorges of Sierra Seri and Sierra Kunkaak, grow a few veritable trees of moderately straight trunk and grain and solid wood, such as the guaiacan (Guaiacum coulteri) and sanjuanito (Jacquinia pungens); both of these fruit, the former in a wahoo-like berry of medicinal properties, and the latter in a nut, edible when not quite ripe and forming a favorite rattle-bead when dry. On the flanks of such gorges the slender-branched baraprieta (Cæsalpinia gracilis) grows up in the shelter of more vigorous shrubs, its branches yielding basketry material, while its fruit is a woody bean much like that of the cat-claw. In like stations there are occasional clumps of yerba mala or yerba de flecha (Sebastiana bilocularis), an exceptionally leafy bush growing in straight stems suitable for arrowshafts, and alleged to be poisonous from root to leaf—with inherent probability, since the plant is without the thorny armature normal to the desert. Along the sand-washes, especially about their lower extremities wet only in floods, springs a subannual plant (Hymenoclea monogyra) which shrinks to stunted tussocks after a year or more of drought, but flourishes in close-set fens after floods; though of acrid flavor and sage-like odor, it is eaten by herbivores in 36 time of need, and it yields abundant seeds, consumed by birds, small animals, and men. About all of the permanent waters not invaded by white men and the white man’s stock there are brakes of cane or carrizal (Phragmites communis?); the jointed stems are half an inch to an inch in thickness and 8 to 25 feet in height; the seeds are edible, while the stems form the material for balsas and afford shafts for arrows, harpoons, fire-sticks, etc., and the silica-coated joints may be used for incising tough tissues.

Along the lower stretches of the Rio Bacuache, and in some of the deeper gorges of Sierra Seri and Sierra Kunkaak, a few true trees with moderately straight trunks and solid wood grow, like guaiacan (Guaiacum coulteri) and sanjuanito (Jacquinia pungens). The guaiacan produces a wahoo-like berry with medicinal properties, while the sanjuanito has a nut that’s edible when slightly unripe and becomes a favorite rattle-bead when dried. In the sides of these gorges, the slender-branched baraprieta (Cæsalpinia gracilis) thrives under the shelter of more robust shrubs. Its branches provide material for basket weaving, and its fruit is a woody bean similar to that of the cat-claw. In similar areas, you can find occasional clusters of yerba mala or yerba de flecha (Sebastiana bilocularis), an exceptionally leafy shrub growing straight stems that are good for arrow shafts, and said to be poisonous from root to leaf—that seems likely since this plant lacks the thorny defense typical of the desert. Along the sandy washes, especially near their lower ends that only get wet during floods, a subannual plant (Hymenoclea monogyra) emerges, shrinking to stunted tussocks after a year or more of drought but thriving in dense patches after floods. Despite its harsh flavor and sage-like smell, it is eaten by herbivores in times of need and produces plenty of seeds that are consumed by birds, small animals, and humans. Near all the permanent water not taken over by white people and their livestock, there are patches of cane or carrizal (Phragmites communis?); the jointed stems are half an inch to an inch thick and can reach heights of 8 to 25 feet. The seeds are edible, the stems serve as materials for balsas and provide shafts for arrows, harpoons, fire-sticks, etc., and the silica-coated joints can be used for cutting tough materials.

The coasts of Seriland, both insular and mainland, are skirted by zones of exceptionally luxuriant shrubbery, maintained chiefly by fog moisture. Along the mountainous parts of the coast the zone is narrow and indefinite, but on the plains portions it extends inland for several miles with gradually fading characters; this is especially true in the southern portion of Desierto Encinas, where the fog effects may be observed in the vegetation 12 or 15 miles from the coast. Most of the fog fed species are identical with those of the interior, though the shrubs are more luxuriant and are otherwise distinctive in habit. On the Tiburon side of gale-swept El Infiernillo, and to some extent along other parts of the coast, some of these shrubs (notably Maytenus phyllanthroides) grow in dense hedge-like or mat-like masses, often yards in extent and permanently modeled by the wind in graceful dune-like shapes. Somewhat farther inland the flatter coastwise zones of Tiburon are rather thickly studded with shrubby clumps from 6 inches to 2 feet high, made up of Frankenia palmeri with half a dozen minor communals; while still farther inland follows the prevailing Sonoran flora of mesquite, scrubby paloverde, and chaparral (Celtis pallida), etc., only a little more luxuriant than the normal.

The coasts of Seriland, both the islands and the mainland, are lined with areas of exceptionally thick shrubs, mainly supported by moisture from the fog. In the mountainous sections of the coast, this area is narrow and unclear, but in the plains, it stretches several miles inland, gradually losing intensity; this is particularly evident in the southern part of Desierto Encinas, where the effects of fog can be seen in the vegetation up to 12 or 15 miles from the shore. Most of the fog-dependent species are the same as those found inland, although the shrubs are more robust and have unique characteristics. On the Tiburon side of the wind-swept El Infiernillo, and to some extent in other coastal areas, some of these shrubs (especially Maytenus phyllanthroides) grow in dense, hedge-like or mat-like formations, often extending for yards and shaped by the wind into elegant dune-like forms. A bit further inland, the flatter coastal areas of Tiburon are dotted with shrub clumps ranging from 6 inches to 2 feet high, mainly consisting of Frankenia palmeri along with several other minor species; while even further inland, the typical Sonoran flora of mesquite, scrubby paloverde, and chaparral (Celtis pallida), etc., appears, being only slightly more lush than usual.

Throughout Seriland proper, and especially in the interior valleys of Tiburon, grasses are more prevalent than in other portions of the Sonoran province, their abundance doubtless being due to the rarity of graminivorous animals during recent centuries.

Throughout Seriland, and especially in the interior valleys of Tiburon, grasses are more common than in other parts of the Sonoran region, probably because there have been fewer grazing animals in recent centuries.

Wildlife

Considered collectively, the fauna of the Sonoran province is measurably distinctive (though less so than the flora), especially in the habits of the organisms. The prevailing animals, like the plants of extraneous type, evidently represent genera and species developed under more humid conditions and adjusted to the arid province through a long-continued and severe process of adaptation; and no fundamentally distinct orders or types comparable with the cacti and torotes of the vegetal realm are known. The prime requisite of animal life in the province is ability to dispense with drinking, either habitually or for long intervals, and to maintain structure and function in the heated air despite the exceptionally small consumption of water; the second requisite is ability to cooperate in the marvelously complete solidarity of animal and vegetal life characteristic of subdesert regions. No 37 systematic studies have been made of special structures in the animal bodies adapting them to retention of liquids, either by storage (as in the stomach of the camel) or by diminished evaporation, though the prevalence of practically nonperspiring mammals, scale-covered reptiles, and chitin-coated insects suggests the selection, if not the development, of the fitter genera and species for the peculiar environment. Much more conspicuous are the characters connected with cooperation in the ever severe but never eliminative strife for existence in the sub-desert solidarity; the mammals are either exceptionally swift like the antelope, exceptionally strong like the local lion, exceptionally pugnacious and prolific like the peccary, or exceptionally capable of subsisting on waterless sierras like the bura and mountain goat; the reptiles are either exceptionally swift like the rainbow-hued lizards, exceptionally armed like the sluggish horned toads, exceptionally venomous like the rattlesnake, or exceptionally repulsive, if not poisonous, like the Gila monster; even the articulates avoid the mean, and are exceptionally swift, exceptionally protective in form and coloring, exceptionally venomous like the tarantula and scorpion and centipede, or exceptionally intelligent like the farmer ant and the tarantula-hawk; while there is apparently a considerable class of insects completely dependent on the cooperation of plants for the perpetuation of their kind, including the yucca moth and (undescribed) cactus beetle. Among plants the intense individuality (which is the obverse of the enforced solidarity) is expressed in thorns and heavily lacquered seeds and toxic principles; among animals it is expressed by chitinous armament, as well as by fleetness and fangs and deadly venom.

When looked at as a whole, the wildlife of the Sonoran region is noticeably unique (though not as much as the plant life), particularly in the behaviors of the species. The dominant animals, similar to the plants of different types, clearly belong to genera and species that evolved in more humid conditions and adapted to the dry environment through a long process of severe adaptation; no fundamentally distinct orders or types comparable to the cacti and torotes in the plant kingdom are known. The main requirement for animal life in this region is the ability to go without drinking for long periods or to manage with minimal water intake while still functioning in the hot air; the second requirement is the capability to work together in the incredibly tight-knit relationship between animal and plant life typical of subdesert areas. No systematic studies have been conducted on specific features in animal bodies that help them retain liquids, either through storage (like in a camel's stomach) or by reducing evaporation, although the presence of nearly non-sweating mammals, scale-covered reptiles, and chitin-coated insects hints at a selection process, if not an ongoing development, of the most suitable genera and species for this unique environment. Much more apparent are the traits associated with cooperation in the relentless yet non-destructive struggle for survival in the subdesert community; mammals are either extraordinarily fast like the antelope, exceptionally strong like the local lion, very aggressive and prolific like the peccary, or uniquely capable of surviving without water in the highlands like the bura and mountain goat; reptiles are either particularly quick like the vividly colored lizards, very well-equipped like the slow-moving horned toads, highly venomous like the rattlesnake, or notably off-putting, if not poisonous, like the Gila monster; even the arthropods exhibit extremes, being exceptionally fast, highly protective in shape and color, very venomous like the tarantula, scorpion, and centipede, or incredibly intelligent like the farmer ant and the tarantula-hawk; there also seems to be a significant group of insects that completely rely on plants for the survival of their species, such as the yucca moth and (not yet described) cactus beetle. Among plants, the intense individuality (which is the opposite of the enforced cooperation) shows in thorns, highly glossy seeds, and toxic substances; among animals, it is expressed through chitinous armor, as well as speed, fangs, and deadly venom.

The larger land animals of Seriland proper are the mountain goat in the higher sierras, the bura (or mule-deer) and the white-tail deer on the mid-height plains and larger alluvial fans, with the antelope on the lower and drier expanses. Associated with these are the ubiquitous coyote, a puma, a jaguar of much local repute which roams the higher rocky sites, and a peccary ranging from the coast over the alluvial fans and mid-height plains of the mainland (though it is apparently absent from Tiburon). Of the smaller mammals the hare (or jack-rabbit) and rabbit are most conspicuous, while a long-tail nocturnal squirrel abounds, its burrows and tunnels penetrating the plains of finer debris so abundantly as to render these plains, especially on Tiburon, impassable for horses and nearly so for men. The California quail and the small Sonoran dove are fairly common; a moderate number of small birds haunt the more humid belts, and there is a due proportion of Mexican eagles and hawks of two or three forms, with still more numerous vultures. Ants abound, dominating the insect life, while wasps and spiders, with various flies and midges, gather about the vital colonies of the drier plains and swarm in the moister belts. Horned toads and various lizards—bright-colored and swift, or earth-tinted and sluggish—are fairly abundant, while black-tail rattlesnakes 38 haunt the more luxuriant vegetation of fog zones, permanent waters, and cienegas. On the whole, the land fauna of Seriland is much like that of the province in general, though the various forms of life are less abundant than the average, since all (except the abounding squirrel) are sought for food by the omnivorous Seri; and the distribution, even when relatively abundant, is woefully sparse, as befits the scant and scattered vegetal foundation for the animal life.

The larger land animals in Seriland include mountain goats in the higher mountains, bura (or mule-deer) and white-tailed deer on the mid-elevation plains and larger alluvial fans, and antelope in the lower, drier areas. Along with these, you'll find the common coyote, a puma, a well-known local jaguar that roams the higher rocky areas, and a peccary that travels from the coast over the alluvial fans and mid-elevation plains of the mainland (though it seems to be absent from Tiburon). Among the smaller mammals, hares (or jackrabbits) and rabbits are the most noticeable. There's also a nocturnal squirrel with a long tail that digs burrows and tunnels through the sandy plains, making these areas, particularly in Tiburon, nearly impassable for horses and almost so for people. California quail and small Sonoran doves are quite common; several small birds thrive in the more humid regions, and you can find a good number of Mexican eagles and hawks of different types, along with even more vultures. Ants are plentiful and dominate the insect population, while wasps and spiders, along with various flies and midges, gather around the important colonies in the drier plains and swarm in the wetter areas. Horned toads and various lizards—some bright-colored and quick, while others are earth-toned and slow—are fairly common, and black-tailed rattlesnakes are found in the lush vegetation of foggy areas, permanent bodies of water, and wetlands. Overall, the land fauna of Seriland closely resembles that of the broader province, although different species are generally less abundant than average, since all (except for the plentiful squirrels) are hunted for food by the omnivorous Seri. Even when present in reasonable numbers, their distribution is often sadly sparse, as fits the limited and scattered plant life that supports the animal populations.

Strongly contrasted with the meagerness of the land fauna is the redundant aquatic fauna of that portion of the gulf washing the shores of Seriland. Tiburon island is named from the sharks, said by some explorers to have been seen by thousands along its coasts; these voracious feeders find ample food in literal shoals and swarms of smaller fishes; a not inconsiderable number of whales have survived the early fisheries (one, estimated at 80 feet in length, was stranded in Rada Ballena about 1887); while schools of porpoises play about Boca Infierno and elsewhere, making easy prey of slower swimmers caught in the tide-rips and gale-swept breakers. Proportionately abundant and varied is the crustacean life; littoral mollusks cling to the ledges exposed along all the rocky coast stretches, and the entire beach from Punta Antigualla to Punta Ygnacio is banded by a practically continuous bank of wave-cast molluscan shells, the shell-drift being often yards in width and many inches in depth. Common crabs abound in many of the coves, and a large lobster-like crab frequently comes up from deeper bights and bottoms; oysters attach themselves to rocks and to the roots of shrubby trees skirting protected bays like Rada Ballena, while clams are numerous in all broad mud-flats, such as those of Laguna la Cruz; and the pearl oyster was fished for centuries toward Punta Tepopa, until the ferocity of the Seri put an end to the industry. Especially abundant and large are the green turtles on which the Seri chiefly subsist, leaving the shells scattered along the shore and about rancherias in hundreds; while two land tortoises (Gopherus agassizii and Cinosternum sonorense) range about the margins of the lagoons, and one of these is alleged to enter the water freely.

Strongly contrasting the sparse land animals is the abundant aquatic life in the part of the gulf that washes the shores of Seriland. Tiburon Island is named for the sharks, which some explorers claim were seen by the thousands along its coasts; these hungry predators find plenty of food in literal shoals and swarms of smaller fish. A notable number of whales have survived the early fishing efforts (one, estimated to be 80 feet long, was stranded in Rada Ballena around 1887); meanwhile, schools of dolphins play around Boca Infierno and elsewhere, easily capturing slower swimmers caught in the tidal currents and stormy waves. The crustacean life is also plentiful and diverse; coastal mollusks cling to the ledges exposed along the rocky shorelines, and the entire beach from Punta Antigualla to Punta Ygnacio features a nearly continuous bank of wave-tossed shells, often several yards wide and many inches deep. Common crabs are abundant in many coves, and a large lobster-like crab frequently comes up from deeper areas. Oysters attach themselves to rocks and the roots of bushes along sheltered bays like Rada Ballena, while clams are plentiful in all the wide mudflats, such as those in Laguna la Cruz. The pearl oyster was fished for centuries near Punta Tepopa, until the fierce Seri people ended that industry. The green turtles, on which the Seri primarily rely, are especially abundant and large, leaving their shells scattered along the shore and around villages in the hundreds; while two species of land tortoises (Gopherus agassizii and Cinosternum sonorense) roam the edges of the lagoons, with one of them reportedly entering the water freely.

The abundance of water-fowl is commensurate with that of the submarine life. The pelican leads the avifauna in prominence if not in actual numbers, breeding on Isla Tassne (Pelican island), and periodically patrolling the whole of Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo in lines and platoons of military regularity; gulls are always in sight, and the cormorant is common; while different ducks haunt several of the islets, and the shores are promenaded by curlews, snipes, and other waders. There is a corresponding wealth of plankton, which at low spring tide with offshore gale covers acres of shallow littoral with squirming or inert but always slimy life, the substratum for that of higher order; and jellyfish and echinoids are cast up by nearly every wave, while at night the surf rolls up the smooth strands in shimmering lines of phosphorescent light. On the whole, the aquatic life teems in tropic luxuriance 39 and more than ordinary littoral variety; for the waters of the gulf are warmed by radiation and conduction from its sun-parched basin, while the concentrated tides distribute and stimulate the species and keep the vital streams astir.

The number of waterfowl matches that of the underwater life. The pelican stands out among the birds, if not in actual numbers, breeding on Isla Tassne (Pelican Island) and regularly patrolling Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo in organized lines like a military parade. Gulls are always visible, and cormorants are common; various ducks inhabit several of the small islands, while the shores are frequented by curlews, snipes, and other wading birds. There’s also a rich variety of plankton, which, during low spring tides and offshore winds, covers vast areas of shallow shorelines with wriggling or inert but always slimy life, serving as the foundation for larger organisms. Jellyfish and sea urchins wash up with almost every wave, and at night, the surf creates shimmering lines of phosphorescent light along the smooth beaches. Overall, the aquatic life is abundant and lush in this tropical setting, featuring more variety than usual; the waters of the gulf are heated by radiation and conduction from its sun-baked basin, while the strong tides mix and encourage species, keeping the ecosystems vibrant. 39

Local Highlights

Considered as a tribal habitat, Seriland comprises four subdivisions of measurably distinct character, viz., (1) the broad desert bounding the territory on the east; (2) the mountainous zone of Sierra Seri; (3) Tiburon island and the neighboring islets; and (4) the navigable straits and bays contiguous to island and mainland.

Considered a tribal area, Seriland consists of four subdivisions that have distinct characteristics: (1) the wide desert that borders the territory on the east; (2) the mountainous region of Sierra Seri; (3) Tiburon Island and the nearby small islands; and (4) the navigable straits and bays next to the island and mainland.

1. So far as its marginal portions are concerned, Desierto Encinas is a typical valley of the Sonoran province, sparsely dotted with vital colonies of the prevailing type and variegated by the exceptionally luxuriant mesquite forests of the Bacuache and Sonora fans; but the interior of the valley is rendered distinct by the fact that it lies near, if not below, the level of the sea.11 The central feature is Playa Noriega—a film of brackish water for a few days after each considerable semiannual freshet, a sheet of saline mud for a few weeks later, and for the greater part of the year a salt-crusted sherd 20 square miles in area, level as a floor and unimpressionable as a brick pavement. The playa is rimmed by dunes 10 to 40 feet in height, and about these and along the arroyos which occasionally break into it there is some aggregation of salt-enduring shrubs, evidently sustained in part by the semiannual freshet with its meager vapors and fogs. Outside this rim the surface is exceptionally broken; low dunes and irregularly wandering banks of soft and dust fine sand are interspersed with meandering salt flats much like the central playa, ranging from a few feet in width and a few yards in length up to mappable dimensions, as in the lesser playa lying east of the great one; and many of the dustbanks are honeycombed with squirrel burrows. This annulus of broken surface is narrow on the west, soon passing into okatilla scrub and then 40 into the saguesa forests of the eastern base of Sierra Seri; on the east it is miles in breadth, passing gradually into the normal Sonoran plain; on the south it widens still farther, stretching all the way to Arenales de Gil and Pozo Escalante, and merging into the playa-like mud-flats bordering Laguna la Cruz, into which the gulf waters are sometimes forced by southwesterly gales at high spring tides. Throughout this portion of the desert, marine shells are scattered over the playa-like flats or lodged in the adjacent banks, sometimes in great beds; the vegetation is scantier than usual and largely of salt-loving habit; the mud-flats are usually coated with saline and alkaline crusts, while the dunes are soft and fluffy, and expand into broad belts perforated with the tunnels of the surprisingly abundant rodents. Across this plain of bitter sand-dust lie the two hard land routes to Seriland—the supposed Escalante route of 1700, down the fan of Rio Bacuache and thence by Barranca Salina; and the Encinas route, down the northern border of the Rio Sonora fan and thence by Pozo Escalante to the shores of Bahia Kino.12

1. In terms of its outer areas, Desierto Encinas is a typical valley of the Sonoran province, sparsely dotted with essential colonies of the local type and varied by the unusually lush mesquite forests of the Bacuache and Sonora fans; however, the valley's interior is unique because it is situated near, if not below, sea level.11 The main feature is Playa Noriega—a patch of brackish water that lasts for a few days after each significant biannual floods, a sheet of salty mud for a few weeks later, and for most of the year, a salt-crusted surface measuring 20 square miles, as flat as a floor and as hard as a brick pavement. The playa is surrounded by dunes ranging from 10 to 40 feet high, and around these and along the arroyos that occasionally flow into it, there are clusters of salt-tolerant shrubs, clearly supported in part by the biannual floods with their sparse vapors and fogs. Beyond this rim, the surface is extremely uneven; low dunes and irregular banks of fine, soft sand are mixed with winding salt flats much like the central playa, ranging from a few feet wide and a few yards long to larger sizes, as in the smaller playa located east of the larger one; and many of the sandy banks are filled with squirrel burrows. This ring of uneven surface is narrow on the west, quickly turning into okatilla scrub and then into the saguesa forests on the eastern slopes of Sierra Seri; on the east, it is several miles wide, gradually blending into the typical Sonoran plain; on the south, it expands even more, reaching all the way to Arenales de Gil and Pozo Escalante, and merging into the playa-like mud flats next to Laguna la Cruz, where the gulf waters sometimes flow in due to southwesterly gales at high spring tides. Throughout this part of the desert, marine shells are scattered across the playa-like flats or caught in the nearby banks, sometimes in large beds; the vegetation is sparser than usual and largely consists of salt-loving plants; the mud flats are typically coated with saline and alkaline crusts, while the dunes are soft and fluffy, extending into wide areas filled with tunnels made by surprisingly abundant rodents. Across this plain of bitter sand-dust lie the two main land routes to Seriland—the rumored Escalante route from 1700, traveling down the fan of Rio Bacuache and then by Barranca Salina; and the Encinas route, moving down the northern edge of the Rio Sonora fan and then through Pozo Escalante to the shores of Bahia Kino.12

Desierto Encinas is an impossible human habitat in any proper sense; it is merely a broad and hardly passable boundary between habitats. The hardy stock of the frontier ranchos, pasturing partly on the thorny fruit of the cholla, push far out on the plains, and are sometimes watered for short periods, under strong guards of heavily armed vaqueros, at Barranca Salina; yet the greater part of the expanse is trodden only by the Seri. Two or three ruined frames of Seri jacales and a few graves crown the low knoll near Pozo Escalante, and there are one or two house remnants near Barranca Salina; these are notable not only as the easternmost remaining outposts of Seri occupancy, but because they represent the only known instances in all Seriland of the erection of even temporary houses adjacent to water. Distinct paths, trodden deep by bare Seri feet, radiate from both waters toward the Seriland interior, but no traceable trails extend eastward.

Desierto Encinas is an impossible place for humans to live in any real sense; it’s just a wide and barely navigable boundary between different habitats. The tough livestock from the frontier ranches graze partly on the thorny fruit of the cholla and venture far out onto the plains, sometimes getting water for short periods under the close watch of heavily armed cowboys at Barranca Salina; however, most of this land is only walked on by the Seri. A couple of ruined structures from Seri jacales and a few graves sit on the low hill near Pozo Escalante, and there are one or two remnants of houses near Barranca Salina; these are significant not only as the easternmost remaining signs of Seri presence but also because they represent the only known cases in all of Seriland where even temporary houses were built close to water. Distinct paths, worn deep by bare Seri feet, stretch from both water sources into the interior of Seriland, but no marked trails lead eastward.

The southern limit of Desierto Encinas is marked either by the broad mud-flats opening into Laguna la Cruz or by the coast of the gulf, the coast cutting the lower portions of the plain being accentuated by a sand-bank 30 or 40 feet high, against which the surf thunders in nearly continuous roar, audible halfway or all the way to Pozo Escalante. A Seri trail skirts the crest of this bank, sending occasional branches into 41 the interior. At Punta Antigualla the bank expands and rises into a great mammillated shell-mound nearly 100 feet high, with several of the cusps occupied by more or less ruined jacales; and occasionally occupied houses occur midway thence to the southernmost point of Sierra Seri, and again at the base of the first spur east of Punta Ygnacio. Beyond Punta Antigualla the sweep of the waves is stronger than in Bahia Kino, and the coastal sand-bank is generally higher. Between the rocky buttresses of Punta Ygnacio and the next spur eastward the sand-ridge rises fully 50 feet above mean low tide, and here, as elsewhere, its verge is protected by a fog-fed chaparral thicket with occasional clumps of okatilla and other cacti. Behind the coast barrier lie lagoon-like basins, generally dry and floored with saline silt-beds, though sometimes occupied by briny pools formed through seepage during southwesterly gales; and there are physiographic indications that the northwestward extension of Laguna la Cruz formerly stretched some miles farther than now and lay in the rear of Punta Antigualla in such wise as to form a source of supply of the clam-shells of which the eminence is built.

The southern edge of Desierto Encinas is defined either by the wide mudflats leading into Laguna la Cruz or by the coastline of the gulf. The coast cuts into the lower areas of the plain and is marked by a sandbank rising 30 to 40 feet high, where the surf crashes in a nearly constant roar, heard halfway or all the way to Pozo Escalante. A Seri trail runs along the top of this bank, with occasional branches extending into the interior. At Punta Antigualla, the bank widens and rises into a large, bulging shell mound nearly 100 feet high, with several of its peaks featuring more or less ruined jacales; occasionally, occupied houses can be found midway from there to the southernmost point of Sierra Seri, and again at the base of the first spur east of Punta Ygnacio. Beyond Punta Antigualla, the waves are more powerful than in Bahia Kino, and the coastal sandbank is generally taller. Between the rocky outcrops of Punta Ygnacio and the next spur to the east, the sand ridge rises about 50 feet above mean low tide, and here, as elsewhere, its edge is shielded by a fog-fed chaparral thicket with scattered clumps of okatilla and other cacti. Behind this coastal barrier are lagoon-like basins, usually dry and covered in saline silt, although they can sometimes contain saline pools formed by seepage during southwesterly winds. There are also signs that the northwestward extension of Laguna la Cruz used to stretch several miles further than it does now and lay behind Punta Antigualla in such a way that it served as a source of the clam shells used to build the elevation.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. III

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. III

SERI FRONTIER

SERI FRONTIER

SIERRA SERI FROM ENCINAS DESERT

Sierra Seri from Encinas Desert

2. Sierra Seri is a double range, divided mid-length by a broad saddle barely 2,000 feet in height.13 Like other Sonoran ranges, the nucleal portions are exceedingly rugged and precipitous—at least two of its picachos shoot so boldly that they commonly seem to overhang, and have been called leaning peaks. In large part the precipices rise abruptly from a symmetrical dome molded by sheetflooding, much as the insulated buttes rise from the Bacuache fan in northeastern Seriland; so that the tract lying between Desierto Encinas and El Infiernillo is a composite of exceptionally precipitous and exceptionally smooth mountain slopes. One of the Seri trails radiating from Barranca Salina lies across the mid-sierra saddle; others push into several mountain valleys, and the largest leads to Tinaja Trinchera, at the base of Johnson peak, where there are a few low walls of loose-laid rubble, somewhat like those of the trincheras (entrenched mountains) farther eastward—the only structures of the sort seen in Seriland. Toward the southern end of the range lie various trails, the most conspicuous paralleling the coast, either near the shore or over the steep salients, according to the configuration; while here and there ruinous jacales a few yards from the coast attest sporadic habitation. The eastern shore of Bahia Kunkaak from Punta Ygnacio northward reveals a typical geologic section of the Sonoran province: the transgressing waves have carved in the granitic subterrane a broad shelf lying just below mean low tide and usually stretching several furlongs offshore; this shelf is relieved here and there by remnantal crags of obdurate rocks, cumbered by bowlders and locally sheeted with sand and arkose derived from mechanically disintegrated granite; while the 42 inner margin of the shelf is a sea-cliff, usually 30 to 50 feet high, of which the lower half is commonly granite and the upper half unconsolidated and recent-looking mechanical debris collected by sheetflood erosion. Sometimes the granite of the subterrane is replaced by volcanics; sometimes ancient and firmly cemented talus deposits separate the superficial mantle from the subterrane, as shown in the lower part of plate V; sometimes the line of sheetflood planation passes below tide-level, when the waves beat against the unconsolidated deposits in a deep embayment; sometimes the sharply defined planation surface ends abruptly at the sides of subranges or buttes shooting upward in the abrupt slopes characteristic of the sierra proper; yet this 10-mile stretch of coast is a nearly continuous revelation of the structure of sheetflood-carved plains and of modern marine transgression. The debris of the combined processes forms an abundant and varied assortment of bowlders, cobbles, and pebbles, whence the inhabitants readily derive their simple implements without need for studied forethought or manual cunning.

2. Sierra Seri is a double mountain range, split in the middle by a wide saddle that is just about 2,000 feet high. Like other ranges in the Sonoran region, its central parts are incredibly rugged and steep—at least two of its peaks rise so dramatically that they often appear to overhang, earning them the nickname "leaning peaks." Much of the cliffs rise sharply from a symmetrical dome shaped by flooding, similar to how isolated buttes rise from the Bacuache fan in northeastern Seriland. The area between Desierto Encinas and El Infiernillo features a mix of exceptionally steep and smooth mountain slopes. One of the Seri trails starting from Barranca Salina crosses the mid-sierra saddle; others head into various mountain valleys, with the largest one leading to Tinaja Trinchera at the foot of Johnson Peak, where there are a few low walls made of loose rubble, somewhat like those found in the trincheras (entrenched mountains) further east—the only structures of this kind seen in Seriland. At the southern end of the range, there are several trails, the most noticeable of which runs parallel to the coast, either close to the shore or over the steep outcrops, depending on the terrain; scattered throughout are dilapidated jacales a short distance from the coast indicating occasional habitation. The eastern shoreline of Bahia Kunkaak from Punta Ygnacio northward displays a typical geological section of the Sonoran province: the encroaching waves have carved a wide shelf in the granite substrate, located just below the mean low tide line and usually extending several hundred yards offshore; this shelf is occasionally interrupted by remaining outcrops of resilient rock, littered with boulders and locally covered with sand and arkose formed from mechanically broken-down granite. The inner edge of the shelf is a sea cliff, typically 30 to 50 feet high, where the lower half is usually granite and the upper half is unconsolidated and appears recent, made up of debris collected by flood erosion. Sometimes the granite background is replaced by volcanic rock; sometimes ancient, well-cemented talus deposits stand between the surface layer and the substrate, as depicted in the lower portion of plate V; at times, the line where flooding levels off dips below tide level, causing waves to crash against the loose deposits in a deep bay; other times, the clearly defined level ends sharply at the sides of subranges or buttes that rise steeply in the typical slopes of the sierra proper; yet this 10-mile stretch of coastline continuously reveals the structure of plains carved by floodwaters and the effects of modern marine inundation. The remnants of these combined processes create a rich and diverse collection of boulders, cobbles, and pebbles, which the local inhabitants easily use to make simple tools without needing much planning or skill.

The long sand-spit terminating in Punta Miguel and the shorter one terminating in Punta Arena are the product of geologically recent wave building, and consist of irregular series of V-bars, backed by lagoon-like basins and enclosing considerable bodies of brine in the central portions; and the bars and basins become successively higher outward, in such wise as to attest the secular subsidence of this coast. Several jacales are located on the higher portion of the southern sand-spit, midway between Punta Granita and Punta Miguel, while footpaths traverse the flat and skirt the coast. Toward the terminal portion of the spit the sand is blown into hummocks, held by clumps of salt-enduring and sand-proof shrubbery; but there are no rancherias here, despite the fact that it is a natural point of embarkation—doubtless because no Seri structure could withstand the sand-drifting gales and storm inundations of this exposed spot. The more protected lagoons behind the outer bars harbor abundant waterfowl, within bowshot of shrub-clumps and dunes well adapted to the concealment of hunters, while the mud-flats open to the tide abound in clams and other edible things. The features of the Punta Miguel sand-spit are repeated with variations along the eastern shore of El Infiernillo; and Seri jacales, evidently designed for temporary occupancy, occur here and there, usually on higher banks above reach of the severer storms.

The long sandspit ending at Punta Miguel and the shorter one at Punta Arena are formed from recent wave activity and consist of uneven series of V-shaped bars, supported by lagoon-like basins that enclose large amounts of brine in the center; the bars and basins gradually rise outward, indicating the long-term sinking of this coast. Several small huts are situated on the higher part of the southern sandspit, halfway between Punta Granita and Punta Miguel, while paths cross the flat land and follow the coastline. Toward the end of the spit, the sand is shaped into small mounds, held together by clusters of salt-tolerant and sand-resistant shrubs; however, there are no small communities here, likely because no Seri structure could survive the sand-blowing winds and storm flooding of this exposed area. The calmer lagoons behind the outer bars are home to plenty of waterfowl, located within shooting range of shrub patches and dunes that hide hunters well, while the mudflats that are exposed to the tide teem with clams and other edible items. The features of the Punta Miguel sandspit can be seen with variations along the eastern shore of El Infiernillo; and Seri huts, clearly made for temporary use, are found here and there, usually on higher banks above the reach of the stronger storms.

3. Tiburon island itself is apparently the chosen home of the Seri—a habitat to which the mainland tract is at once a dependency, an alternative refuge, and a circumvallation. Its dominant range, Sierra Kunkaak, mates Sierra Seri in its essential features, though the rocks are for the greater part ordinarily obdurate eruptives rather than exceptionally obdurate granites, as in the mainland sierra; accordingly the range is somewhat lower and broader, while the sheetflood sculpture, with its sharp transition into precipitous cliffs, is somewhat less trenchant. 43 Sierra Menor is a third term in the mountain series, in structure and geomorphy as in altitude; while the interior plain is a homologue of that portion of Desierto Encinas lying north of Playa Noriega—i. e., of its (potentially) free-drained portion. Almost the entire perimeter of Tiburon is suffering marine transgression, and is faced with seacliffs overlooking wave-carved shelves; and in both form and structure the greater part of the coast repeats, with minor variations, the features of the mainland coast from Punta Ygnacio northward. Partly because of the superior magnitude and height of its debris-yielding sierra, partly because of protection from the wave-beat of the open gulf, the eastern shore is skirted with a talus-shape slope, usually two to four miles wide; and while there are unmistakable evidences of sheetflood carving in the higher portions of this plane, the coastal cliff commonly reveals nothing but heterogeneous debris, sometimes rising thirty or forty feet above tide. Somewhat the greater part of the volume of this debris is fine—i. e., sand and silt and nondescript rock-matter; but there is always a considerable element of larger rock-fragments, which gather along the shore in a pavement of bowlders and cobbles (upper figure of plate V). These coarse materials—important factors in aboriginal industry—are harmoniously distributed; more conspicuously on the ground than on the map, the coast is set with salients (of which Punta Narragansett is a type), consisting merely of exceptional accumulations of debris from gorges in the sierra and from shallow arroyos, or pebble washes, traversing the coastwise plain. These salients owe their prominence partly to the relative coarseness, partly to the abundant supply, of fragmental material from the heights; and about their extremities the beach is paved with bowlders, which grade to cobbles or even to pebbles along the reentrant shores on either hand. This distribution of cobbles is one of the conditions governing the placement of Seri rancherias; and in many cases the jacales are located, either singly or in groups, where the coastal salients and reentrants meet, and where there is an abundant supply of cobbles of convenient size and wave-tested hardness.

3. Tiburon Island is clearly the chosen home of the Seri—a habitat that depends on the mainland, serves as an alternative refuge, and acts as a protective barrier. Its main mountain range, Sierra Kunkaak, is similar to Sierra Seri in key characteristics, although the rocks here are mostly standard hard volcanic rocks instead of the exceptionally hard granite found in the mainland sierra. As a result, this range is somewhat lower and wider, and the landscape features less sharp drops into steep cliffs. 43 Sierra Menor serves as a third element in the mountain series, both in terms of structure and shape, as well as altitude. The interior plain parallels the northern part of Desierto Encinas, specifically the (potentially) well-drained area. Almost the entire edge of Tiburon is experiencing rising sea levels, presenting cliff faces that overlook wave-carved ledges; in both form and structure, most of the coastline mirrors, with minor differences, the features of the mainland coast from Punta Ygnacio northward. Due to the larger size and height of its debris-producing sierra and protection from the open gulf's waves, the eastern shore has a sloping talus formation that is usually two to four miles wide. While there are clear signs of sheetflood erosion in the higher areas of this plain, the coastal cliff typically shows only a mix of debris, sometimes rising thirty or forty feet above the tide. A significant portion of this material is fine—sand, silt, and various types of rock—though there's always a notable amount of larger rock fragments, which accumulate along the shore in a layer of boulders and cobbles (upper figure of plate V). These coarse materials—important for the indigenous economy—are evenly distributed; visually more apparent on the ground than on a map, the coast is dotted with projections (like Punta Narragansett), formed from the unique collection of debris from canyons in the sierra and from shallow washes of pebbles that cross the coastal plain. These projections are notable partly due to their relative coarseness and the abundant supply of broken material from the heights; around their ends, the beach is covered in boulders that transition into cobbles or even pebbles along the inlets on either side. This arrangement of cobbles influences where the Seri settlements are established; often, the jacales are located, individually or in groups, where the coastal projections and inlets meet, providing a plentiful supply of cobbles of the right size and durability tested by the waves.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. IV.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. IV.

SIERRA SERI FROM TIBURON ISLAND

Sierra Seri from Tiburon Island

PUNTA YGNACIO, TIBURON BAY

Punta Ignacio, Tiburon Bay

The coastwise plain skirting eastern Tiburon has a few wave-built projections analogous to those east of El Infiernillo; the most conspicuous of these are Punta Tormenta, Punta Tortuga, and Punta Perla with its tide-swept extensions, Bajios de Ugarte. All of these are located primarily by sierra-fed arroyos, but all are greatly extended by wave-borne material laid down along lines determined by the prevailing currents of this best-protected portion of the coast. The long outer face of Punta Tormenta, shaped by the storms of Bahia Kunkaak, is strikingly regular and symmetric; its broad extremity and inner face are diversified by subordinate bars and lagoons, evidently tending to connect with the main coast toward Punta Tortuga, and thereby to transform the whole of Rada Ballena into a lagoon. Already the narrow embayment is so shallow that, although a comfortable 44 haven at high tide, it is mostly mud-flat and sand-waste at extreme low tide—a condition which explains the stranding of an 80-foot whale in this treacherous harbor about 1887. The rada is between two and three miles in length. It abounds in marine life of kinds preferring quieter waters: clams are plentiful in its mud-flats, a sponge lines portions of the bottom toward its inner extremity, oysters cluster numerously on bowlders and on the mangrove-like roots and trunks of a large shrub along the outer shore, and various fishes find refuge here from the fierce currents and the hungry sharks and porpoises of the open strait; these and other creatures form food for innumerable waders and other water-fowl that seek shelter in the quiet bay, which is still further protected by salt-enduring shrubbery on the bars of the point and by the shrubby thickets and wave-cast banks and wind-built dunes on the mainland side.

The coastal plain along eastern Tiburon has a few wave-formed projections similar to those east of El Infiernillo. The most notable ones are Punta Tormenta, Punta Tortuga, and Punta Perla, along with its tide-affected extensions, Bajios de Ugarte. All of these are mainly located near arroyos fed by the sierra, but they are significantly extended by materials deposited by waves following the prevailing currents in this well-protected section of the coast. The long outer edge of Punta Tormenta, shaped by the storms of Bahia Kunkaak, is remarkably regular and symmetrical. Its broad tip and inner side are varied by minor bars and lagoons, which appear to connect with the main coast toward Punta Tortuga, potentially transforming the entire Rada Ballena into a lagoon. The narrow bay is now so shallow that, while it serves as a comfortable harbor at high tide, it mostly becomes a mud flat and sand waste at extreme low tide—this explains how an 80-foot whale got stranded in this dangerous harbor around 1887. The bay stretches between two and three miles long. It is rich in marine life that prefers calmer waters: clams are abundant in the mud flats, a sponge covers parts of the bottom near its inner edge, oysters gather in large numbers on boulders and the mangrove-like roots and trunks of a large shrub along the outer shore, and various fish find refuge here from the strong currents and hungry sharks and porpoises in the open strait. These and other creatures provide food for countless wading birds and other waterfowl that seek shelter in the tranquil bay, which is further protected by salt-tolerant shrubs on the point's bars and the bushy thickets, wave-cast banks, and wind-formed dunes on the mainland side.

The combination of conditions renders this portion of the Tiburon coast the optimum habitat of the Seri Indians. There are, indeed, no houses or other traces of permanent habitation on Punta Tormenta itself, which is not only swept by gales but must sometimes be inundated by gale-driven waters at high spring tide; but at the inner end of the long sand-spit, and also on the mainland opposite the outer portion of Rada Ballena, there are extensive and well-kept rancherias, capacious enough to accommodate comfortably thirty or forty Seri families, i. e., 150 or 200 persons. Toward its landward end the sand-spit is built largely of pebbles and cobbles, of which thousands of tons are adapted to industrial use; sea-food is practically unlimited and is readily taken; water-fowl literally crowd the protected rada within arrow-shot of natural cover; the outer slope of the bar is admirably suited for landing and embarking balsas in calm weather, while the bay is an ideal harbor for the portable craft, and the shrub-grown shores give unlimited opportunity for concealing them when not in use; the dunes and banks are high enough to protect the low jacales from storm-winds, while the abundant sponges and turtle-shells afford material for thatching and shingling the more exposed walls and roofs; and finally, it is but a favorite distance (about 4 miles) to the permanent fresh water of Tinaja Anita. From this Seri metropolis well-trod trails radiate toward all other parts of the island; the best beaten leads to the tinaja, sending branches into all the neighboring gorges, in which game is sometimes taken; next best-worn is the trail laid across Sierra Kunkaak to strike Arroyo Carrizal mid-length of its permanently wet portion; others pass northward to rancherias at different points on the coast, and still another skirts the coast southward by several smaller rancherias to the considerable jacal collection near Punta Narragansett—this, like other longshore routes, having alternative trails, the evanescent fair-weather one following the beach, while the permanent path threads the thorn-set thickets marking the crest of the sea-cliff or cuts across the longer salients. The Narragansett rancheria is 45 also a center for radiating trails, the best-beaten of these leading toward the fresh waters of Tinaja Anita and Arroyo Carrizal; and even the rancherias half-way thence to Punta Mashém send their most permanent paths over 15 miles of intervening ranges and spall-strewn valleys toward the same waters. According to Mashém’s cautious statements, there is a minor Seri metropolis at the northwestern spur of Sierra Kunkaak, within reach of Pozo Hardy and Arroyo Agua Dulce, and two or three smaller rancherias along the western shore; but these were not reached by the 1895 expedition.

The combination of factors makes this part of the Tiburon coast the ideal home for the Seri Indians. There are no houses or signs of permanent settlement on Punta Tormenta itself, which is not only hit by strong winds but can sometimes be flooded by storm surges during high spring tides. However, at the inner end of the long sand spit, and on the mainland across from the outer area of Rada Ballena, there are large and well-maintained rancherias, spacious enough to comfortably house thirty or forty Seri families, or about 150 to 200 people. Towards its landward end, the sand spit is mainly made up of pebbles and cobbles, thousands of tons of which can be used for industrial purposes; seafood is virtually unlimited and can be easily gathered; waterfowl are abundant in the protected harbor, within easy reach of natural cover; the outer slope of the bar is perfect for landing and launching balsas in calm weather, while the bay serves as an ideal harbor for small boats, and the shrub-covered shores provide ample opportunity to hide them when not in use; the dunes and banks are high enough to shield the low jacales from storm winds, and abundant sponges and turtle shells provide materials for thatching and roofing the more exposed walls and roofs; finally, it’s just a preferred distance (about 4 miles) to the permanent fresh water of Tinaja Anita. From this Seri hub, well-used trails extend to all other parts of the island; the most traveled leads to the tinaja, branching into all the nearby gorges where game is occasionally hunted; next best is the trail that crosses Sierra Kunkaak to reach Arroyo Carrizal at the middle of its consistently wet section; others head north toward rancherias at various points along the coast, while another goes south along the coast past several smaller rancherias to a notable collection of jacales near Punta Narragansett—this, like other coastal routes, has alternative paths, with the temporary fair-weather one following the beach while the more permanent path navigates the thorny thickets on the ridge of the sea cliff or cuts across the longer projections. The Narragansett rancheria is also a hub for trails, the most traveled of these heading toward the fresh water of Tinaja Anita and Arroyo Carrizal; even the rancherias halfway to Punta Mashém send their most reliable paths over 15 miles of connecting ranges and rocky valleys toward the same water sources. According to Mashém’s careful statements, there’s a smaller Seri center at the northwestern end of Sierra Kunkaak, accessible to Pozo Hardy and Arroyo Agua Dulce, along with two or three smaller rancherias along the western shore; however, these weren't visited by the 1895 expedition.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. V.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. V.

WESTERN SHORE OF TIBURON BAY

Tiburon Bay's Western Shore

EASTERN SHORE OF TIBURON BAY

Tiburon Bay Eastern Shore

4. The seas washing Seriland are notably troubled by tides and winds. Gaping toward the Pacific, and narrowing and shoaling for the 800 miles of its length (measured from midway between Islas de Tres Marias and Cabo San Lucas), Gulf of California approaches Bay of Fundy, Bristol channel, and Broad sound as a tide accumulator; while the semidiurnal sweep of the waters in the upper half of the gulf is conditioned by the constriction of the basin to a fraction of its average cross-section at the narrows between Isla Tiburon and Punta San Francisquito. Toward the head of the gulf the ordinary spring tides range from 20 to 25 feet, and may be much increased by favoring winds; the debacles culminate there, but the currents culminate off Seriland in the great tide-gate half dammed by the islands of Tiburon, San Esteban, San Lorenzo, and Salsipuedes,14 with their marine buttresses, and through the breaches of Pasaje Ulloa, Estrecho Alarcon, and Canal de Salsipuedes flow, four times daily, some two or three cubic miles of water in tremendous tidal floods, probably unsurpassed in vigor elsewhere on the globe. Naturally the islands and the adjacent coasts afford extraordinary examples of marine transgression; and while exceptional wave-work is a factor, the transgression is undoubtedly due mainly to the extraordinary tidal currents in this gateway of the gulf. The fierce currents and the frequent storms of the region condition local navigation, and have undoubtedly contributed to the development of the peculiarly light, strong, and serviceable water-craft of the aboriginal navigators among the islands.

4. The seas around Seriland are significantly affected by tides and winds. Opening into the Pacific and narrowing and shallowing over its 800-mile length (measured from halfway between Islas de Tres Marias and Cabo San Lucas), the Gulf of California acts like a tide collector, similar to Bay of Fundy, Bristol Channel, and Broad Sound; while the semi-daily movement of the waters in the upper part of the gulf is influenced by the narrowing of the basin to a fraction of its typical width at the constriction between Isla Tiburon and Punta San Francisquito. At the head of the gulf, normal spring tides reach heights of 20 to 25 feet and can be significantly increased by favorable winds; these flow peaks happen there, but the strongest currents occur off Seriland in the large tidal gate partially blocked by the islands of Tiburon, San Esteban, San Lorenzo, and Salsipuedes,14 which act as marine barriers. Through the openings of Pasaje Ulloa, Estrecho Alarcon, and Canal de Salsipuedes, about two or three cubic miles of water flows four times a day in massive tidal surges, probably unmatched in intensity anywhere else on Earth. Naturally, the islands and nearby coasts showcase remarkable examples of marine erosion; while exceptional wave activity plays a role, the erosion is definitely mainly due to the extraordinary tidal currents in this gateway to the gulf. The strong currents and frequent storms in the area affect local navigation and have likely led to the development of the particularly lightweight, strong, and practical boats used by the indigenous navigators among the islands.

El Infiernillo derives its distinctive characteristics largely from the local character of the tides. Bahia Kunkaak is a funnel-shape embayment so placed as to catch half the volume of the incoming tide and to 46 concentrate the flow into a bore hurtling through Boca Infierno and thence throughout the shoaling strait with greatly accelerated velocity; meantime the body of the tidal stream is diverted around Tiburon, and then enfeebled in its northward flow by the expansion of the gulf above the Tiburon-San Francisquito gateway, so that the entire strait is flooded (to the limit fixed by the capacity of Boca Infierno) before the main tide flows into its head past Isla Patos and through Bahia Tepopa; and with this unobstructed inflow the strait is reflooded with a counterbore, whereby the waters are heaped and pounded into an unstable, swirling, churning mass.15 The flooding is little less than catastrophic in magnitude and suddenness; indeed, the volume of water in the body of the strait between Punta Perla and Boca Infierno 47 is approximately doubled at neap tide and tripled at spring tide twice in each twenty-four hours. Then, as the crest of the main debacle advances into the upper gulf beyond Punta Tepopa, the trough of the ebb is already approaching the Tiburon-San Francisquito constriction; and even before the final flooding of El Infiernillo from the north is completed, the waters of Bahia Kunkaak are receding and a tiderip is tearing through Boca Infierno at a rate sufficient to half empty the reservoir of its accumulated volume before the ebb trough has rounded the island to the head of the strait. Thus the effect of the exceptional tides of the gulf and the peculiar configuration of Seriland is to concentrate and accentuate tidal currents in El Infiernillo, and to convert the channel into a raceway for nearly continuous tide rips. According to Dewey, the spring tides are 10 feet and the neaps 7 feet about the northern end of the strait;16 in December, 1895, the tides about Punta Blanca and Punta Granita were roughly determined as 13 or 14 feet at spring and 7 or 8 at neap, the range varying considerably with the direction and force of the wind; and the consequent current through Boca Infierno was estimated at 4 to 8 miles per hour, the higher velocity of course coinciding with the spring tide. The change in direction of the current is almost instantaneous—indeed, the run is in opposite directions on opposite sides of the narrow strait when the wind sets obliquely—so that the tidal flow is practically continuous. The currents are of course slacker in the body of the strait, but even here suffice to transport coarse sediments; and it is to this agency that the “shoals and sand spits” noted by Dewey17 and the maintenance of a deep channel through Boca Infierno are chiefly to be ascribed. The materials of Punta Tormenta and Punta Tortuga attest the transportation of pebbles up to 3 or 4 inches in diameter by the combined work of waves and tidal currents.

El Infiernillo gets its unique features mainly from the local tide patterns. Bahia Kunkaak is shaped like a funnel, positioned to capture half of the incoming tide's volume and concentrate the flow into a bore rushing through Boca Infierno and then throughout the narrowing strait with much faster speed; meanwhile, the main body of the tidal stream is diverted around Tiburon and then weakened in its northward movement by the expanding gulf above the Tiburon-San Francisquito gateway, so that the entire strait is flooded (up to the limit defined by the capacity of Boca Infierno) before the main tide flows into its head past Isla Patos and through Bahia Tepopa; with this unrestricted inflow, the strait is reflooded with a counterbore, causing the waters to pile up and swirl into an unstable, churning mass. The flooding is nearly catastrophic in its scale and suddenness; in fact, the water volume in the strait between Punta Perla and Boca Infierno is roughly doubled at neap tide and tripled at spring tide, occurring twice every twenty-four hours. Then, as the peak of the main flood advances into the upper gulf beyond Punta Tepopa, the trough of the ebb is already nearing the Tiburon-San Francisquito constriction; and even before the final flooding of El Infiernillo from the north is complete, the waters of Bahia Kunkaak are receding, and a tiderip is rushing through Boca Infierno at a speed fast enough to partially empty the reservoir of its accumulated water before the ebb trough has rounded the island to the head of the strait. Thus, the effect of the unusual tides of the gulf and the specific layout of Seriland is to concentrate and intensify tidal currents in El Infiernillo and turn the channel into a raceway for nearly continuous tide rips. According to Dewey, spring tides reach 10 feet and neaps 7 feet near the northern end of the strait; in December 1895, the tides near Punta Blanca and Punta Granita were roughly estimated to be 13 or 14 feet at spring and 7 or 8 feet at neap, with the range varying significantly depending on wind direction and strength; as a result, the current through Boca Infierno was estimated at 4 to 8 miles per hour, with the higher speed coinciding with the spring tide. The direction of the current changes almost instantly—in fact, the current flows in opposite directions on either side of the narrow strait when the wind blows at an angle—meaning that the tidal flow is essentially continuous. The currents are slower in the body of the strait, but they're still strong enough to move coarse sediments; and it’s this process that accounts for the “shoals and sand spits” noted by Dewey and for maintaining a deep channel through Boca Infierno. The materials at Punta Tormenta and Punta Tortuga indicate the movement of pebbles up to 3 or 4 inches in diameter, shaped by the combined action of waves and tidal currents.

Like other mountain-bound water bodies, the portion of the gulf washing Seriland is exceptionally disturbed by winds of given velocity by reason of the high angle of incidence; and moreover the exceptionally prominent local configuration disturbs the atmospheric currents in a manner somewhat analogous to that in which the tidal currents are disturbed; so that the winds are highly variable but generally strong. Under the combined action of tide and wind the waters are normally ruffled; choppy seas freely flecked with whitecaps are rather the rule than the exception,18 and are replaced less frequently by calms than by steadier billows breaking in continuous surf on sand-beaches (figure 5) and dashing into foam-flecked and rainbow-tinted spray-jets, bathing the rocky cliffs for 50 feet above their bases. Sometimes the wind stills suddenly, when the sea sinks to rhythmic swells, soon extinguished by reaction from the irregular shores and by the interference of tide-currents; but the swell seldom dies away before the gale springs again. 48 The broad valley between Sierras Seri and Kunkaak, bottomed by El Infiernillo, is especially beset by fierce and capricious gales; the general atmospheric drift is disturbed by the leading and lesser sierras, as well as by temperature convection from the gulf, and eddies are developed in such wise as to send air-currents directly or obliquely up or down the valley. These local or sublocal winds are characteristic. Judging from observations covering several weeks, the valley is wind-swept longitudinally for an average of eighteen or twenty hours daily, the winds ranging from strong breezes to gales so stiff as to load the air with sand ashore and spray asea; and even the calms may be broken any minute by sudden gusts and williwaws, passing rapidly as they arrive. Not only waves but wind itself combines with tides to shape the structural features of the valley; nowhere within it do flour-fine sands like those of Desierto Encinas occur, save as a hardly perceptible constituent of the dunes and banks of coarser sand—they have been blown into the sea or beyond the limits of the valley. Throughout the strait so expressively named by its explorers, the capriciousness of the sea culminates, despite the shoalness and the protection from easterly and westerly winds; the storm currents and tide-currents are half the time opposed, raising breakers even when the air is nearly still; eddies and whirls and cross-currents arise constantly, and even at the stillest 49 hours tumultuous waves come and go sporadically, while about the mile-wide boca the choppy sea sometimes takes the form of spire-like jets, spurting 5 or 10 feet high and breaking into aigrettes of glittering spray in most unwaterlike and wholly indescribable fashion. Dewey described the strait as “unsafe for navigation by any except the smallest class of vessels”; it is safe, indeed, only for portable and indestructible craft like the Seri balsas, which may be put off or carried ashore at will by craftsmen willing to wait for wind and tide, and unpossessed of impedimenta of a sort to be injured by wetting. Of such an environment the balsa is a natural product.

Like other water bodies in mountainous areas, the part of the gulf that washes Seriland is greatly affected by winds of specific speeds due to the steep angle at which they hit; additionally, the unique local landscape disrupts the atmospheric currents in a way that's similar to how tidal currents are affected. As a result, the winds are highly variable but generally strong. With the combined influence of tides and winds, the waters are usually choppy; rough seas sprinkled with whitecaps are more of a norm than an exception, 18 and calm waters are less frequent than steady waves crashing on sandy beaches (figure 5) and splashing into foam-covered sprays that shower the rocky cliffs up to 50 feet above their base. Occasionally, the wind will suddenly die down, causing the sea to settle into rhythmic swells, which are quickly disturbed by the irregular coastline and the interference of tidal currents; however, the swells rarely fade away before the winds pick up again. The wide valley between Sierras Seri and Kunkaak, which is filled by El Infiernillo, is especially troubled by fierce and unpredictable gales. The overall atmospheric flow is disrupted by the prominent sierras and variations in temperature from the gulf, creating eddies that push air currents directly or diagonally up and down the valley. These local winds are quite distinctive. Based on observations over several weeks, the valley experiences wind for an average of eighteen to twenty hours a day, ranging from strong breezes to gales that kick up sand on the shore and spray in the sea; even periods of calm can be abruptly interrupted by sudden gusts and whirlwind-like winds that come and go quickly. Not only do waves but the wind itself, combined with tides, shape the features of the valley; fine sands, like those in Desierto Encinas, are absent except as barely noticeable parts of dunes and banks of coarser sand—they’ve been blown into the sea or out of the valley. Throughout the strait, aptly named by its explorers, the sea's unpredictability reaches its peak, despite the shallow waters and the shelter from easterly and westerly winds; storm currents and tidal currents often oppose each other, creating breakers even when the air is almost still. There are constantly eddies, whirlpools, and cross-currents, and even in the calmest moments, chaotic waves intermittently appear, while around the mile-wide boca, the choppy sea sometimes forms spire-like jets shooting 5 to 10 feet high and breaking into glittering sprays in a way that's completely unique and hard to describe. Dewey described the strait as “unsafe for navigation by any except the smallest class of vessels”; it is indeed safe only for portable and resilient crafts like the Seri balsas, which can be launched or carried ashore at will by craftsmen willing to wait for the right wind and tide, and free from anything that could be damaged by water. In such an environment, the balsa is a natural product.

Fig. 5—Embarking on Bahia Kunkaak in la lancha Anita.

Fig. 5—Getting on Bahia Kunkaak in the boat Anita.

The adjunct islets of Seriland are miniatures of Tiburon in all essential respects, save that they are without fresh water. The largest is San Esteban, a somewhat complex butte rising sharply from the waters in a nearly continuous sea-cliff recording vigorous work by storms and tides; it is occasionally visited by the Seri, chiefly in search of water-fowl and eggs. The most important of the series in Seri economy and mythology is Isla Tassne, off the mouth of Bahia Kino; it is a rugged butte some 600 feet high, rising in wave-cut cliffs on the sea side and pedimented by low spits and banks of sand toward the lea; the sand-banks are literally flocked with pelicans, while other fowl cover the flatter ledges and crowd the crannies of the pinnacle. Isla Turner is a somewhat smaller and still more rugged butte, bounded on both sides by precipitous cliffs, while Roca Foca is merely a great rock shelving upward from the storm-swept waters off the most exposed angle of Tiburon; in the crannies of the former birds nest abundantly, while the lower ledges of both are haunted by seals. Isla Patos, north of Tiburon, is a breeding-place for different water-fowl, and is especially noted as a refuge for ducks; it, too, is for the most part a rocky butte, with a sandy shelf at the eastern base. Beyond San Esteban lies the similar but smaller Isla San Lorenzo, while Isla Salsipuedes and a few other islets stretch thence northward half way to the southern point of Isla Angel de la Guarda, the second-largest island of the gulf. San Lorenzo and the smaller islets are occasionally visited by the Seri, partly for a mineral pigment used in face-painting, partly in quest of game; and they sometimes push on to the larger island to enjoy its fairly abundant game, including the easily taken iguana, amid the ruins of an ancient culture apparently akin to that of southern Mexico. Even the most frequented islets, Tassne and Patos, can be reached only by crossing miles of open sea; but in their way the Seri are as canny navigators as they are skilful boat-builders—it is their habit to hug the shore in threatening weather, to await wind and tide for hours or days together, to set out on distant journeys only when all conditions favor, and in emergency to seize inspiration from the storm like the vikings of old, and bend supernormal power to the control of their craft.

The small islands of Seriland are tiny versions of Tiburon in almost every way, except they lack fresh water. The biggest is San Esteban, a complex butte that rises steeply from the waters with almost continuous sea cliffs, shaped by intense storms and tides; the Seri occasionally visit it mainly to search for waterfowl and eggs. The most significant of these islands for the Seri's economy and mythology is Isla Tassne, located at the mouth of Bahia Kino; it's a rugged butte about 600 feet high, featuring wave-cut cliffs on the sea side and sandy slopes on the leeward side; the sandbanks are filled with pelicans, while other birds cover the flatter ledges and crowd the cracks of the peak. Isla Turner is a slightly smaller but even more rugged butte, surrounded on both sides by steep cliffs, while Roca Foca is just a large rock rising from the stormy waters off the most exposed part of Tiburon; birds nest abundantly in the cracks of the former, while the lower ledges of both are frequented by seals. Isla Patos, north of Tiburon, is a breeding ground for various waterfowl and is especially known as a refuge for ducks; it is mainly a rocky butte, with a sandy shelf at its eastern base. Beyond San Esteban lies the similar but smaller Isla San Lorenzo, while Isla Salsipuedes and a few other islets stretch northward halfway to the southern point of Isla Angel de la Guarda, the second-largest island in the gulf. San Lorenzo and the smaller islets are sometimes visited by the Seri, partly for a mineral pigment used in face painting and partly in search of game; they occasionally venture to the larger island to take advantage of its relatively plentiful game, including the easily caught iguana, among the ruins of an ancient culture that seems related to that of southern Mexico. Even the most visited islets, Tassne and Patos, can only be reached by crossing miles of open sea; however, the Seri are as skilled navigators as they are expert boat builders—they tend to stay close to the shore in bad weather, wait for favorable winds and tides for hours or days, set out on long journeys only when all conditions are right, and in emergencies, they draw inspiration from storms like the Vikings of old, using extraordinary power to control their boats.


Summarily, the prevailing features of Seriland may be said to be 50 characterized by extreme development or intensity, many of them being of such sort as to be adequately described only by the aid of strong comparatives or superlatives. Seriland is the most rugged portion of piedmont Sonora, and is bounded by its most forbidding desert; the territory is nearly if not quite, the most arid and inhospitable of the Sonoran province; the diurnal and sporadic temperature-ranges are apparently the widest, and the gales and other storms apparently the severest of the entire province; the flora is among the most meager and least fruitful, and the mountains are among the craggiest of the continent; the tides are among the strongest and the tidal currents among the swiftest of the world; and, as shown by the limited direct observations and by the extraordinary marine transgression, the waters are among the most turbulent known. At the same time, the waters washing Seriland are among the richest of America in sea-food, so that the habitat is one of the easiest known for a simple life depending directly on the product of the sea. It is but natural that these extreme factors of environment should be measurably reflected in pronounced characteristics on the part of the inhabitants. 51

In summary, the main features of Seriland can be described as extremely intense, many of which can only be accurately captured using strong comparisons or superlatives. Seriland is the most rugged part of piedmont Sonora and is bordered by its most harsh desert; the area is nearly the most dry and inhospitable in the Sonoran province. The daily temperature fluctuations and sporadic ranges seem to be the widest, with the gales and storms appearing to be the fiercest in the province. The plant life is among the scarcest and least productive, and the mountains are some of the most jagged on the continent. The tides are among the strongest, and the tidal currents are among the fastest in the world. Additionally, limited direct observations and notable marine transgressions indicate that the waters are among the most turbulent known. At the same time, the waters surrounding Seriland are among the richest in America for seafood, making the area one of the easiest for sustaining a simple life that relies directly on sea products. It's only natural that these extreme environmental factors would be reflected in the distinct characteristics of the inhabitants.


SUMMARY HISTORY

There is some doubt as to who was the first among the Caucasian explorers of the Western Hemisphere to set eyes on the Seri Indians. Nuño de Guzman, rival of Cortés and invader of Jalisco and Sinaloa, must have approached the southern boundary of Seri territory about 1530, though there is no record of contact with these tribesmen. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, one of Cortés’ captains, coasted along southern Sonora in 1532 to a point considerably beyond Rio Yaqui, where he was massacred on his return, and hence left no record of more northerly natives.19 Both of these pioneers must accordingly be eliminated from the list of probable discoverers of the Seri.

There’s some uncertainty about who was the first Caucasian explorer of the Western Hemisphere to see the Seri Indians. Nuño de Guzman, who was a rival of Cortés and invaded Jalisco and Sinaloa, likely reached the southern border of Seri territory around 1530, although there are no records of interactions with these tribes. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, one of Cortés’ captains, navigated along southern Sonora in 1532 to a point well past the Rio Yaqui, where he was killed on his way back, so he didn’t leave any record of northern natives. Both of these explorers, therefore, can be ruled out as the likely discoverers of the Seri.

In the course of their marvelous transcontinental journey, Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca and his companions also approached Seriland, and apparently skirted its borders shortly before meeting Captain Diego de Alcaraz, of Guzman’s party; this was in April, 1536, according to Bandelier.20 Vaca wrote: “On the coast is no maize: the inhabitants eat the powder of rush and of straw, and fish that is caught in the sea from rafts, not having canoes. With grass and straw the women cover their nudity. They are a timid and dejected people.”21 He added half a dozen ambiguous sentences, of which only a part, apparently, refer to the “timid and dejected people”; half of these describe a poison used by them “so deadly that if the leaves be bruised and steeped in some neighboring water, the deer and other animals drinking it soon burst”. The people were identified as Seri (Ceris) by Buckingham Smith and General Stone,22 and the identification may be considered as strongly probable, provided the Tepoka be classed with the Seri.

During their incredible journey across the continent, Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca and his companions came close to Seriland, and seemed to have traveled along its borders just before encountering Captain Diego de Alcaraz from Guzman's group; this happened in April 1536, according to Bandelier.20 Vaca wrote: “On the coast, there is no corn: the locals eat a powder made from rushes and straw, and fish caught at sea using rafts, as they do not have canoes. The women cover themselves with grass and straw. They are a shy and downcast people.”21 He included several unclear sentences, of which only part seems to refer to the “shy and downcast people”; half of those describe a poison they used “so deadly that if the leaves are crushed and steeped in nearby water, deer and other animals drinking it soon burst.” The group was identified as Seri (Ceris) by Buckingham Smith and General Stone,22 and this identification is likely correct, assuming the Tepoka are classified with the Seri.

The next Caucasians to approach Seriland appear to have been the two Spanish monks, Fray Pedro Nadal and Fray Juan de la Asuncion, who, in 1538, sought to retrace Vaca’s route, and traveled northward to a river somewhat doubtfully identified as the Gila;23 but the meager accounts of this journey contain no clear reference to the Seri Indians.

The next Caucasians to reach Seriland seem to have been the two Spanish monks, Fray Pedro Nadal and Fray Juan de la Asuncion, who, in 1538, tried to follow Vaca’s route and traveled north to a river that is somewhat uncertainly identified as the Gila;23 but the sparse records of this journey do not clearly mention the Seri Indians.

On March 7-19, 1539, the Italian friar Marcos de Niza left San Miguel de Culiacan under instructions from the Viceroy, Don Antonio 52 de Mendoza, to explore the territory traversed by Vaca, under the guidance of the negro Estevanico, the only one of Vaca’s three companions remaining in Mexico; in good time he reached a point probably not far from the center of the present state of Sonora, whence messengers were sent coastward to return duly accompanied by certain “very poor” Indians wearing pearl-oyster (?) ornaments, who were reputed to inhabit a large island (almost certainly Tiburon) reached from the mainland by means of balsas. Bandelier identified these coastwise Indians with the Guayma tribe, a supposed branch of the Seri;24 but if the “large island” were Tiburon, it would seem more probable that the Indians belonged to the tribe now known as Seri, while both description and location suggest the Tepoka. This record is of questionable weight, partly by reason of the doubtful identification of the Indians, and partly because the friar’s itinerary was found to be misleading by his immediate successors, because of the fact that portions of his narrative were based on hearsay; though it is just to note that Bandelier, after critical study, deemed the record about as trustworthy as others of the time, and to add that the disparagement of Niza’s discoveries by his followers was in accord with the fashion of the day—indeed it was little more severe relatively than the criticism of the strikingly trustworthy Ulloa by his first follower, Alarcon.

On March 7-19, 1539, the Italian friar Marcos de Niza left San Miguel de Culiacan on orders from the Viceroy, Don Antonio de Mendoza, to explore the area traveled by Vaca, guided by the African slave Estevanico, who was the only one of Vaca’s three companions still in Mexico. He soon reached a point likely not far from the center of what is now Sonora, where messengers were sent toward the coast, returning accompanied by some “very poor” Indians wearing pearl-oyster ornaments. These Indians were believed to live on a large island (probably Tiburon) accessible from the mainland by balsas. Bandelier associated these coastal Indians with the Guayma tribe, thought to be a branch of the Seri; however, if the “large island” was indeed Tiburon, it seems more likely that the Indians belonged to what is now known as the Seri tribe, while both the description and location suggest the Tepoka. This record is of questionable reliability, partly due to the uncertain identification of the Indians, and partly because the friar’s journey was found to be misleading by his immediate successors, as some parts of his account were based on hearsay. However, it’s worth noting that Bandelier, after careful study, considered the record to be about as reliable as others from that time. It should also be mentioned that the criticism of Niza’s findings by his followers was consistent with the trend of the period; in fact, it was not much more severe than the critique of the notably reliable Ulloa by his first follower, Alarcon.

On July 8-19, 1539, according to the collection of Ramusio, three vessels sent out by Cortés to discover unknown lands—“Of Which Fleete was Captaine the right worshipfull knight Francis de Vlloa borne in the Citie of Merida”—sailed from Acapulco.25 Skirting the mainland northwestward, they explored Mar de Cortés, or Gulf of California; and on September 24 (as fixed by interpolation from Ulloa’s excellent itinerary) they descried and described the features of the coast in such fashion as to locate their vessels (one was already lost) off the southern point of Tiburon, and in sight of the islands of San Esteban and San Lorenzo, as well as locally prominent points on the mainland of Lower California. Here they “discerned the countrey to be plaine, and certaine mountaines, and it seemed that a certaine gut of water like a brooke ran through the plaine” (p. 322). Judging from other geographic details, this “gut of water” was certainly the tide-torn gateway now named Boca Infierno; while the next day’s sailing (it is noteworthy that this was “north” instead of northwestward as usual) carried them by “a circuit or bay of 6 leagues into the land with many coones or creeks”, evidently Bahia Tepopa with the northern end of the turbulent strait El Infiernillo. The record shows clearly that Ulloa discovered Tiburon, but failed (quite naturally, in view of the route pursued and the peculiar configuration at both extremities of the strait) to perceive its insular character. No mention is made of inhabitants or habitations on this land-mass, though both are described on the 53 neighboring island of Angel de la Guarda in terms that would be applicable to the Seri.

On July 8-19, 1539, according to Ramusio's collection, three ships sent by Cortés to explore uncharted territories—"The captain of this fleet was the respected knight Francis de Ulloa, born in the city of Merida"—departed from Acapulco. Skirting the mainland to the northwest, they explored the Gulf of California. On September 24 (based on Ulloa’s detailed itinerary), they observed and described the coastline, enabling them to locate their vessels (one had already been lost) off the southern tip of Tiburon, in view of the islands of San Esteban and San Lorenzo, as well as notable landmarks on the mainland of Lower California. Here they "noticed that the land was flat, with certain mountains, and it appeared that a narrow stream similar to a brook flowed through the flatland." Judging by other geographic details, this "narrow stream" was likely the tide-swept entrance now called Boca Infierno; the following day's sailing (notably, this was "north" instead of the usual northwest) took them "around a bay or inlet of 6 leagues into the land with many coves or creeks," clearly Bahia Tepopa along with the northern end of the turbulent strait El Infiernillo. The records clearly indicate that Ulloa discovered Tiburon, but, understandably considering the route taken and the unique shapes at both ends of the strait, he failed to recognize its island status. There is no mention of inhabitants or settlements on this land, although both are described on the neighboring island of Angel de la Guarda in ways that would apply to the Seri.

On Monday, February 23, 1540, according to Winship,26 Captain-General Francisco Vazquez Coronado set out on his ambitious and memorable expedition to the Seven Cities of Cibola. His course lay from Compostela along the coast of Culiacan, and thence northward through what is now Sinaloa and Sonora. On May 9-20, 1540, Hernando de Alarcon set sail on the ancillary expedition by sea; he followed the coast from Acapulco to Colorado river, and although he undoubtedly saw and was the first to name Tiburon,27 and claimed to have “discouered other very good hauens for the ships whereof Captaine Francis de Vlloa was General, for the Marquesse de Valle neither sawe nor found them”,28 he made no specific record of any of the features of Seriland or of contact with the Seri Indians. Meantime Coronado’s forces were divided, a considerable part of the army falling behind the leader; and some time during the early summer the belated army, under Don Tristan de Arellano, founded the town of San Hieronimo de los Corazones, which in the following year (1541) was transferred to a place in Señora (Sonora) not now identifiable. From Corazones Don Rodrigo Maldonado went down to the seacoast to seek the ships, and brought back with him “an Indian so large and tall that the best man in the army reached only to his chest”, with reports of still taller Indians along the coast.29 It is impossible to locate Maldonado’s route with close accuracy, but in view of geographic and other conditions it is evident (as recently shown by Hodge30) that he must have descended Rio Sonora and approached or reached the coast over the broad delta-plain of that stream south of Sierra Seri, and thus within Seri territory. The reported gigantic stature practically identifies the Indians visited by him with the Seri, since no other gigantic tribes were consistently reported by explorers of western North America, and since the 6-foot Seri warriors, with their frequent Sauls of greater stature, are in fact gigantic in comparison with the average Spanish soldiery of earlier centuries. There are indications that the fame of these giants of the Southern sea spread to Europe and filtered slowly throughout the intellectual world, and that the fancy-clothed colossi grew with their travels, after the manner of their kind—indeed, there is no slender reason for opining that these half-mythical islanders were the real originals of Jonathan Swift’s Brobdingnagians,31 despite his location of their fabled land a 54 few degrees farther northward on the long-mysterious coast below the elusive “Straits of Anian”.

On Monday, February 23, 1540, according to Winship,26 Captain-General Francisco Vazquez Coronado began his ambitious and memorable expedition to the Seven Cities of Cibola. He traveled from Compostela along the coast of Culiacan, then north through what is now Sinaloa and Sonora. From May 9-20, 1540, Hernando de Alarcon set off on the related sea expedition, sailing the coast from Acapulco to the Colorado River. He certainly saw and was the first to name Tiburon,27 claiming to have "discovered other very good harbors for the ships where Captain Francis de Vlloa was General, which the Marquess de Valle neither saw nor found,”28 but he didn't specifically record any features of Seriland or any contact with the Seri Indians. Meanwhile, Coronado's forces became split, with a significant part of the army falling behind. At some point during early summer, the delayed army, led by Don Tristan de Arellano, established the town of San Hieronimo de los Corazones, which was moved the following year (1541) to a location in Señora (Sonora) that can't be identified now. From Corazones, Don Rodrigo Maldonado went down to the coast to look for the ships and returned with “an Indian so large and tall that the best man in the army only reached his chest,” along with reports of even taller Indians along the coast.29 It's hard to pinpoint Maldonado's route accurately, but based on geographical and other conditions, it’s clear (as recently indicated by Hodge30) that he must have descended the Rio Sonora and approached or reached the coast over the wide delta plain of that river south of Sierra Seri, and thus within the Seri territory. The description of these giants practically matches the Indians he visited with the Seri, as no other consistently reported giant tribes were noted by explorers of western North America. The 6-foot Seri warriors, along with their often taller individuals, were indeed gigantic compared to the average Spanish soldiers of earlier centuries. There are signs that the reputation of these giants of the Southern Sea spread to Europe and gradually circulated through the intellectual world, resulting in exaggerated tales of these mythical islanders—there's a good reason to suggest that these half-mythical figures might have inspired Jonathan Swift’s Brobdingnagians,31 even though he placed their legendary land a few degrees further north on the long-mysterious coast below the elusive “Straits of Anian.”

About the middle of September, 1540, Captain Melchior Diaz, then in command at Corazones, selected 25 men from the force remaining at that point, and set out for the coast on what must have been one of the most remarkable, as it is one of the least-known, expeditions in the history of Spanish exploration; for he traversed either the streamless coast or the hardly more hospitable interior through one of the most utterly desert regions in North America, from the lower reaches of Rio Sonora to the mouth of the Colorado. The record of this journey is meager, ambiguous, and apparently inconsecutive; it indicates that he encountered the Indian giants seen by Maldonado, but confused them with the Indians of the Lower Colorado. On the return journey Diaz lost his life through an accident, and his party reached Corazones on January 18, 1541, after encountering hostility from Indians not far from that settlement. Word was sent to Coronado, then in winter quarters on the Rio Grande, who dispatched Don Pedro de Tovar to the settlement for the purpose of punishing the hostile natives; he, in turn, sent Diego de Alcaraz with a force to seize the “chiefs and lords of a village”. This Alcaraz did, but soon liberated his prisoners for a petty exchange. “Finding themselves free, they renewed the war and attacked them, and as they were strong and had poison, they killed several Spaniards and wounded others so that they died on the way back.... They got back to the town, leaving 17 soldiers dead from the poison. They would die in agony from only a small wound, the bodies breaking out with an insupportable pestilential stink.”32

Around mid-September 1540, Captain Melchior Diaz, who was in charge at Corazones, chose 25 men from the remaining troops and set off for the coast on what must have been one of the most remarkable yet least-known expeditions in the history of Spanish exploration. He traveled along the largely untraveled coast or the barely more hospitable inland areas through one of the most completely barren regions in North America, from the lower Rio Sonora to the mouth of the Colorado. The record of this journey is sparse, unclear, and seems scattered; it suggests he met the Indian giants seen by Maldonado but mixed them up with the Indians of the Lower Colorado. On the way back, Diaz died in an accident, and his group arrived at Corazones on January 18, 1541, after facing hostility from local Indians not far from that settlement. Word was sent to Coronado, who was then in winter quarters on the Rio Grande, and he sent Don Pedro de Tovar to the settlement to deal with the hostile natives. Tovar then sent Diego de Alcaraz with troops to capture the "chiefs and lords of a village." Alcaraz did manage to capture them but soon released his prisoners for a trivial bargain. “Once free, they resumed the fight and attacked them, and since they were strong and had poison, they killed several Spaniards and wounded others, causing them to die on the return journey.... They reached the town, leaving 17 soldiers dead from the poison. They would suffer agonizing deaths from even a small wound, their bodies becoming unbearable with a terrible odor.”32

The Coronado expedition had still further experience with (evidently) the same Indians; for as the army approached Corazones on the return a soldier was wounded, and was successfully treated, according to the record, with the juice of the quince. “The poison, however, had left its mark upon him. The skin rotted and fell off until it left the bones and sinews bare, with a horrible smell. The wound was in the wrist, and the poison had reached as far as the shoulder when he was cured. The skin on all this fell off.”33

The Coronado expedition had even more encounters with the same Indians. As the army got closer to Corazones on their way back, a soldier was injured and treated, as recorded, with quince juice. “However, the poison had left its mark on him. The skin rotted and came off, leaving the bones and tendons exposed, with a terrible smell. The wound was in the wrist, and the poison had spread up to the shoulder by the time he was treated. All the skin in that area fell off.”33

There is some question as to the identity of the Indians met by Diaz’s men, Alcaraz and his force, and the Coronado army near Corazones; but various indications point toward the Seri. In the first place, the several Indian settlements mentioned in the records define what must have been then, as it was two centuries later, the Seri frontier, beyond which lay the “despoblado” of Villa-Señor, i. e., the immense area hunted and harried by roving bands from Tiburon; so that the Seri must frequently have crossed the paths pursued by the Spanish pioneers. In the second place, the accounts themselves seem to be typical records of contact with Seri Indians, which might be repeated for each 55 subsequent episode in their history or century in time. The description of the effect of the poison is especially suggestive of the Seri; as pointed out on a later page, the Seri arrow-venom is magical in motive, but actually consists of decomposing and ptomaine-filled organic matter, so that it is sometimes septic in fact, while the arrow-poison of the neighboring Opata, Jova, and other Piman tribes was (so far as can be ascertained) vegetal; and these accounts seem to attest septic poisoning rather than the effects of any known vegetal toxic.34

There is some uncertainty about the identity of the Indians encountered by Diaz’s men, Alcaraz and his group, and the Coronado army near Corazones; however, various clues suggest they were the Seri. First, the Indian settlements noted in the records define what must have been the Seri frontier at that time, just as it was two centuries later, beyond which lay the “despoblado” of Villa-Señor, meaning the vast area hunted and harassed by wandering bands from Tiburon; thus, the Seri must have often crossed the paths taken by the Spanish pioneers. Second, the accounts themselves seem to reflect typical interactions with Seri Indians, which could apply to each subsequent event in their history or timeframe. The description of the effects of the poison is particularly indicative of the Seri; as mentioned on a later page, the Seri arrow-venom has a magical intention but actually consists of decomposing and ptomaine-filled organic material, making it sometimes septic in reality, while the arrow-poison of the nearby Opata, Jova, and other Piman tribes was (as far as can be determined) plant-based; these accounts seem to confirm septic poisoning rather than the effects of any known plant toxin. 55

Such (assuming the validity of the several identifications) are the earliest records concerning the truculent tribesmen and the desolate district known centuries later as the Seri and Seriland.

Such (assuming the validity of the various identifications) are the earliest records concerning the aggressive tribesmen and the barren area known centuries later as the Seri and Seriland.


About 1545 began the Dark Ages in the history of northwestern Mexico; the excursion of Guzman, and the journeys of Cabeza de Vaca and Friar Marcos and of Coronado himself, died out of the memory of the solitary adventurers and scattering settlers who slowly infused Spanish culture and a strain of Caucasian blood into the Sonoran province; even the route taken by Coronado’s imposing cavalcade was lost for centuries, to be retraced only during the present generation, largely through the determinations of Simpson, Bandelier, Winship, and Hodge.35 It is true that Don Francisco de Ibarra penetrated the territory in 1563, and remained until rumors of gold in other districts drew him elsewhere; it is also true that Captain Diego Martinez de Hurdaide pushed into the province in 1584, and entered on a career of subjugation, waging persistent war with the Yaqui, which resulted in the acquisition of the territory of Sonora by treaty April 15, 1610;36 yet few records of exploration or settlement were written before the advent of the Jesuit missionaries, toward the end of the seventeenth century.

About 1545, the Dark Ages began in the history of northwestern Mexico; the expeditions of Guzman, along with the journeys of Cabeza de Vaca, Friar Marcos, and Coronado himself, faded from the memories of the lonely adventurers and scattered settlers who gradually brought Spanish culture and some Caucasian ancestry into the Sonoran region. Even the path taken by Coronado’s impressive group was forgotten for centuries, only to be rediscovered in the current generation, largely due to the efforts of Simpson, Bandelier, Winship, and Hodge.35 It is true that Don Francisco de Ibarra entered the territory in 1563 and stayed until rumors of gold in other areas led him to leave; it is also true that Captain Diego Martinez de Hurdaide ventured into the province in 1584 and began a campaign of conquest, waging ongoing war with the Yaqui, which resulted in Sonora being acquired by treaty on April 15, 1610;36 yet few records of exploration or settlement were made before the arrival of the Jesuit missionaries, toward the end of the seventeenth century.

Still more astounding was the eclipse of knowledge of the gulf. Despite Ulloa’s survey of the entire coast, recorded in an itinerary so detailed that every day’s sailing may readily be retraced, and despite Alarcon’s repetition of the surveys and extension of the discoveries far up Rio Colorado (where his work was verified by that of Melchior Diaz), a mythic cartography arose to shadow knowledge and delude exploration for a century and a half; for “upon the authority of a Spanish chart, found accidently by the Dutch, and of the authenticity of which there never were, or indeed could be, any proofs obtained, an opinion prevailed that California was an island, and the contrary assertion was treated even by the ablest geographers as a vulgar error”;37 and a mythic strait formed by cartographic extension of the Gulf of California indefinitely northward haunted the maps of the seventeenth century. This error was adopted by various geographers, including Fredericus 56 de Witt in 1662, Peter van der Aa in 1690, and even Herman Moll so late as 1708; but it was consistently rejected by Guillaume Delisle and other French geographers. The myth “was finally punctured by Padre Kino in 1701; though even he and all his erudite co-evangels were apparently unaware that his observations only verified those of Ulloa, Alarcon, and Diaz.

Even more surprising was the ignorance about the gulf. Despite Ulloa’s detailed survey of the entire coast, laid out in an itinerary so precise that each day’s sailing can easily be retraced, and despite Alarcon’s repeated surveys and further exploration up the Rio Colorado (where his findings were backed up by Melchior Diaz), a mythical geography emerged that obscured knowledge and misled explorers for a century and a half. This happened because, based on a Spanish chart discovered accidentally by the Dutch, which had no proof of authenticity, the belief spread that California was an island, and even the most skilled geographers dismissed the contrary view as a common mistake. A mythical strait created by extending the Gulf of California northward lingered on the maps of the seventeenth century. This mistake was accepted by various geographers, such as Fredericus de Witt in 1662, Peter van der Aa in 1690, and even Herman Moll as late as 1708; however, it was consistently rejected by Guillaume Delisle and other French geographers. The myth was finally debunked by Padre Kino in 1701, though even he and all his learned co-evangelists seemed unaware that his observations only confirmed those of Ulloa, Alarcon, and Diaz.

During the stagnant sesquicentury 1545-1695 there was little record of the Seri Indians, though that little indicates recognition of their leading characteristics and their insular habitat. Writing especially of the Yaqui before 1645, Padre Andrés Perez de Ribas declared (freely translated):

During the stagnant period from 1545 to 1695, there was very little documentation of the Seri Indians, although what little exists shows awareness of their main traits and their isolated environment. Specifically discussing the Yaqui before 1645, Padre Andrés Perez de Ribas stated (freely translated):

There is information of a great people of another nation called Heris; they are excessively savage, without towns, without houses, without fields. They have neither rivers nor streams, and drink from a few lagoonlets and waterholes. They subsist by the chase, but at harvest time they obtain corn by bartering salt extracted from the sea and deerskins with other nations. Those nearest to the sea also subsist on fish; and it is said that there is, in the same sea, an island on which others of the same nation live. Their language is exceedingly difficult.38

There's information about an interesting group of people from a nation called Heris; they are quite primitive, lacking towns, houses, or farmland. They have no rivers or streams and drink from a few small lagoons and waterholes. They survive by hunting, but during harvest season, they get corn by trading sea salt and deer skins with other nations. Those living near the ocean also depend on fish for food, and it's said there's an island in the same sea where others from their nation reside. Their language is very complex. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The same author mentions cannibalism among the aborigines of northwestern Mexico, saying:

The same author talks about cannibalism among the indigenous people of northwestern Mexico, saying:

The vice of those called anthropophagi, who eat human flesh, introduced by the devil, enemy of the human genus, among nearly all these nations during their heathenism, is more or less common. In the Acaxee and mountains this inhuman vice is customary as eating of flesh obtained by the chase; it is of daily occurrence among them; just as they sally in chase of a deer, they go out over mountains and fields in search of enemies to cut in pieces and eat roasted or boiled.39

The immoral behavior of those called anthropophagi, who eat human flesh, influenced by the devil, the enemy of humanity, was widespread among nearly all these nations during their pagan rituals. In the Acaxee region and the surrounding mountains, this inhumane act is as routine as eating game meat; it occurs every day. Just as they hunt deer, they also go into the mountains and fields looking for enemies to kill and eat, whether roasted or boiled. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

There is nothing to indicate that the anthropophagy was confined to, or even extended to, the Seri—a fact of interest in connection with later opinion. Ribas’ reference to an island inhabited by the Heris (Seri) indicates that the occupancy of Tiburon was fully recognized by the native tribes of the region.

There’s no evidence that cannibalism was limited to, or even included the Seri—this is an interesting point for later discussions. Ribas’ mention of an island populated by the Heris (Seri) shows that the native tribes in the area were well aware of the occupation of Tiburon.

Throughout the seventeenth century the western coast of Gulf of California, and in lesser degree the eastern coast also, became famous for pearl oysters, and expeditions were sent out and fisheries established at different times. The earliest of these expeditions was that of Captain Juan Iturbi in 1615; he sailed well up the gulf, reaching latitude 30° according to his reckoning (though the accounts imply between lines that he turned back at the Salsipuedes), collecting many pearls along the western coast “so large and clear that for one only he paid, as the King’s fifth, 900 crowns”;40 and on his return he carried the fame of the Californian pearls to Ciudad Mexico, whence it resounded to Madrid and reverberated through all Europe. One of the more noteworthy 57 pearl-gathering expeditions was that of Admiral Pedro Portel de Cassanate, which covered several years; he “took a very careful survey of the eastern coast of the gulf” in 1618, but was deterred from establishing a garrison by “the dryness and sterility of the country”;41 yet neither this voyage nor any of the others appears to have resulted in any considerable rectification of the maps, or in valuable records relating to the aboriginal inhabitants. Various records indicate, however, that both pearl fishers by sea and gold seekers by land must have met the warlike Seri—and sometimes survived to enrich the growing lore concerning the tribe, and to establish the existence of their island stronghold.

Throughout the seventeenth century, the western coast of the Gulf of California, and to a lesser extent the eastern coast, became well-known for pearl oysters. Expeditions were launched and fisheries were set up at various points in time. The first of these expeditions was led by Captain Juan Iturbi in 1615; he sailed deep into the gulf, reaching latitude 30° according to his measurements (though the accounts suggest that he turned back at Salsipuedes), collecting many pearls along the western coast “so large and clear that for just one he paid, as the King’s share, 900 crowns”;40 and on his return, he brought the fame of Californian pearls to Ciudad Mexico, which spread to Madrid and echoed throughout all of Europe. One of the more significant pearl-gathering expeditions was led by Admiral Pedro Portel de Cassanate, which lasted several years; he “conducted a thorough survey of the eastern coast of the gulf” in 1618 but was discouraged from establishing a garrison due to “the dryness and sterility of the country”;41 yet neither this voyage nor any of the others seem to have resulted in significant updates to the maps or valuable records about the indigenous peoples. Various records indicate, however, that both sea pearl fishers and land gold seekers likely encountered the warlike Seri—and sometimes survived to enrich the growing stories about the tribe and to confirm the existence of their island stronghold.


New light dawned on Sonoran history with the extension of evangelization by the Order of Jesuits into that territory under the pilotage of Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino (Kaino, Kuino, Kühn, Kühne, Quino, Chino, etc.), who sailed from Chacala, March 18, 1683,42 for California, with the expedition of Admiral Isidro Otondo y Antillon. This expedition failing, the padre returned to the mainland in 1686, and during the same year obtained authority and means for establishing missions in Sonora, of which one was to be “founded among the Seris of the gulf coast”.43 Although the record of the padre’s movements is hardly complete, it would appear that several years elapsed before he actually approached, and also (contrary to the opinion of two centuries) that he never saw, the real Seri habitat. According to the anonymous author of “Apostolicos Afanes” (identified by modern historians as Padre José Ortega), Padre Kino made many journeys over the inhospitable wastes now known as Papagueria during the years 1686-1701,44 and must have seen nearly the whole of the northern and eastern portions of the territory; but only a single journey led him toward Seriland. In February, 1694, he, with Padre Marcos Antonio Kappus, Ensign Juan Mateo Mange (chronicler of this expedition), and Captain Aguerra, set out for the coast; and Mange’s itinerary is so circumstantial as to locate their route and every stopping place, with a possible error not exceeding 5 miles in any case.

New insights emerged in Sonoran history with the expansion of evangelization by the Jesuits into that region, led by Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino (also known as Kaino, Kuino, Kühn, Kühne, Quino, Chino, etc.). He departed from Chacala on March 18, 1683, heading to California with Admiral Isidro Otondo y Antillon's expedition. After this expedition failed, the padre returned to the mainland in 1686 and that same year secured permission and resources to establish missions in Sonora, one of which was intended to be “founded among the Seris of the gulf coast.” While the record of the padre’s movements is far from complete, it seems that several years went by before he actually got close to, and also (contrary to popular belief for two centuries) that he never actually visited, the true Seri territory. According to the anonymous author of “Apostolicos Afanes” (identified by modern historians as Padre José Ortega), Padre Kino made numerous journeys across the harsh landscapes now known as Papagueria between 1686 and 1701, and must have traveled through almost all of the northern and eastern parts of the area; however, only one journey took him towards Seriland. In February 1694, he set out for the coast with Padre Marcos Antonio Kappus, Ensign Juan Mateo Mange (who chronicled this expedition), and Captain Aguerra, and Mange’s detailed account precisely outlines their route and every stopping point, with any errors not exceeding 5 miles.

According to Mange’s itinerary, the explorers left Santa Magdalena de Buquibava, on the banks of Rio San Ignacio or Santa Magdalena, February 9, traveling northwestward down the valley of that river (for the most part) 12 leagues to San Miguel del Bosna; the original party having been enlarged at Santa Magdalena by the addition of Nicolas Castrijo and Antonio Mezquita, with two Indians for guides. On February 10 they traveled from Bosna 5 leagues southward (evidently in the valley of Rio San Ignacio, which is here 5 to 25 miles in width), to sleep at the watering place of Oacue, or San Bartolome. The 58 next day they journeyed westward along the wash (of San Ignacio), stopping, as was their custom, to baptize the sick and others, and after covering 10 leagues camped at a tanque. On February 12 they continued westward over mesquite-covered plains for 4 leagues, and then turned northwestward for 3 leagues along the San Ignacio to Caborca, where they spent the remainder of the day in evangelical work. Next morning, after saying mass, they again proceeded westward “por la vega del rio abajo” (down the bank of the river); at 2 leagues distance they arrived at the place at which the river “sinks”, but continued westward along the sand-wash 5 leagues farther, passing the night at a tanque of turbid water. On February 14 they again celebrated mass, and then proceeded westward over the plains (“prosiguiendo nosotros al Poniente por llanos”); at 4 leagues they reached a rancheria which was dubbed San Valentin (still persisting as a Papago temporale; the “Bisanig” of various maps), watered from a well in the river bed; proceeding westward (“prosiguiendo al Poniente”) 6 leagues farther, they ascended a sierra trending from south to north (“trasmontada una sierra que sita de Sur á Norte”) of which they named the principal peak Nazareno, in a dry and sterile barranca in which they afterward slept; from this sierra they saw “the Gulf of California, and, on the farther coast, four mountains of that territory, which we named Los Cuatro Stos. Evangelistas, and toward the northwest an islet with three cerritos named Las Tres Marias, and in the southwest the Isla de Seris, to which they retreat when pursued by soldiers for their robberies, which we call San Agustin and others Tiburon.”45 The record continues:

According to Mange’s itinerary, the explorers left Santa Magdalena de Buquibava, on the banks of the Rio San Ignacio or Santa Magdalena, on February 9, traveling northwest down the valley of that river (for the most part) for 12 leagues to San Miguel del Bosna; the original group had expanded at Santa Magdalena with the addition of Nicolas Castrijo and Antonio Mezquita, along with two Indians as guides. On February 10, they traveled from Bosna 5 leagues south (clearly in the valley of the Rio San Ignacio, which is 5 to 25 miles wide here) to camp at the watering place of Oacue, or San Bartolome. The next day they journeyed west along the wash of San Ignacio, stopping to baptize the sick and others, and after covering 10 leagues, they camped at a tanque. On February 12, they continued west over mesquite-covered plains for 4 leagues and then turned northwest for 3 leagues along the San Ignacio to Caborca, where they spent the rest of the day on evangelical work. The next morning, after holding mass, they went west again “por la vega del rio abajo” (down the bank of the river); after 2 leagues, they reached the point where the river “sinks,” but continued west along the sand wash for another 5 leagues, spending the night at a tanque with muddy water. On February 14, they celebrated mass again and then continued west over the plains (“prosiguiendo nosotros al Poniente por llanos”); after 4 leagues, they arrived at a rancheria called San Valentin (still known as a Papago temporale; the “Bisanig” on various maps), supplied by a well in the riverbed; traveling 6 leagues farther west (“prosiguiendo al Poniente”), they climbed a sierra running from south to north (“trasmontada una sierra que sita de Sur á Norte”) and named the main peak Nazareno, in a dry and barren ravine where they later spent the night. From this sierra, they could see “the Gulf of California, and, on the other coast, four mountains of that area, which we named Los Cuatro Stos. Evangelistas, and to the northwest an islet with three hills called Las Tres Marias, and in the southwest the Isla de Seris, where they flee when pursued by soldiers for their robberies, which we call San Agustin and others Tiburon.”45 The record continues:

On the fifteenth, after saying mass, we continued our route to the west by a dry and stony ravine which there is between the mountains, and at 3 leagues we met some Indians taking water from a small well in earthen jars, who, on seeing us, ran away, flying from fear; but at two musket shots we overtook them, treated them kindly, and brought them back to the well that they might assist in watering the horses, giving them all the water necessary, for the reason that they had not drunk the day before. For this reason we called this place Paraje de las Ollas. They were naked people, and only covered their private parts with small pieces of hare skin; and one of them was so aged that by his looks he must have been about 120 years old. We continued to the west over barren plains, arid and without pasture, a country as sandy as a sea-beach, until we reached the sand-banks, where the horses had great difficulty; and after another 7 leagues Father Kappus and the other people camped without water, and with only pasture of salt grass; but Padre Kino and I [Mange], with guides, and the governor of Los Dolores [Aguerra], in order to be forehanded, went west 2 leagues farther, crossing the bed of Rio San Ignacio; we arrived at the banks of an arm of the sea to which, in the sixty years that the province of Sonora had been peopled, no one had come, and we were the first who had the great privilege of seeing the Island of the Seris and that of Tres Marias, as well as the mountains of Cuatro Evangelistas, in California, on the other side of the gulf, the width of which, according to the measuring instruments at this position of 30° [actually about 30° 35'], is some 20 leagues. We returned to the bed of the river [San Ignacio], where we found a well nearly dry; we drew from it water for the horses, who had had nothing to drink, and took some ourselves, although it was turbid, muddy, and disagreeable.

On the fifteenth, after saying mass, we continued our journey west through a dry and rocky ravine between the mountains. After traveling three leagues, we encountered some Indians who were getting water from a small well using clay jars. When they saw us, they panicked and ran away, but we caught up with them after firing two musket shots. We treated them kindly and took them back to the well to help water the horses, making sure they had enough to drink since they hadn’t had any the day before. That’s why we named this place Paraje de las Ollas. The people were naked, covering only their private parts with small pieces of hare skin; one of them was so old that he looked around 120 years. We continued west across barren, dry plains with no grass, a landscape as sandy as a beach, until we reached the sandbanks, where the horses struggled. After seven more leagues, Father Kappus and the rest of our group set up camp without water, just some salt grass for the horses. But Padre Kino and I [Mange], along with some guides and the governor of Los Dolores [Aguerra], decided to go ahead two more leagues, crossing the bed of the Rio San Ignacio. We arrived at the shores of a sea arm that hadn’t been visited in the sixty years since the settlement of the province of Sonora. We were the first to see the Island of the Seris and the Island of Tres Marias, as well as the Cuatro Evangelistas mountains across the Gulf of California, which, according to our measuring instruments at this point of 30° [actually about 30° 35'], is roughly twenty leagues wide. We returned to the riverbed [San Ignacio], where we found a nearly dry well; we drew water for the horses, who were thirsty, and took some for ourselves, even though it was murky, muddy, and unpleasant.

59

59

Now, this itinerary recounts, in definite and unmistakable terms, the incidents and localities of a journey down the valley of Rio San Ignacio (also called Santa Magdalena, Altar, Ascuncion, Pitiquito, Caborca, etc., in different parts of its course), from the present city of Santa Magdalena by the present town of Caborca to the coast at a point almost directly west of both Caborca and Santa Magdalena. Moreover, Kino’s map of 170246 locates “Nazareno” on this river, and permits identification of the sierra with Dewey’s “three conspicuous peaks” placed directly inland from the lagoon at the mouth of San Ignacio river, on the Hydrographic Office charts; it also locates Caborca (miswritten “Cabetka”) in approximate position. Furthermore, it would have been physically impossible for the rather heavily outfitted Kino party, with carriages and churchly equipage, to traverse the untrodden and forbidding wastes from Caborca to even the nearest part of Seriland within the period of two days and a fraction, and the distance of 29 leagues (some 74 miles), detailed in the itinerary. The direct way from Caborca to Tiburon would lie due southward, over sierra-ribbed and barranca-cut plains never yet explored by white men, nor even traversed by Indians so far as known, for more than 100 miles in an air line; while the nearest practicable route, passing by way of Cieneguilla, Las Cruces, Pozo Noriega, Bacuachito, Sayula, Tonuco, Rancho Libertad, and Barranca Salina (or Aguaje Parilla) measures fully 200 miles, and requires at least six days for the passage with good horses and light equipage. The Kino party might, indeed, have turned southwestward at Caborca and pushed to the now abandoned landing at the anchorage below Cabo Lobos;47 but the directions and distances specifically stated, and the specific identification of Rio San Ignacio at the end and at other points of the journey, all prove that this was not the route actually traveled. The terminus of the trip so clearly fixed by the itinerary is over 100 miles from the nearest point of Seriland proper; moreover, Tiburon is rendered invisible both from the coast and from Cerro Nazareno not only by distance, but by intervening sierras, notably those projecting into the Gulf to form Cabo Lobos and Punta Tepopa. It follows that Kino and Mange completely missed Seriland in their expedition to the coast, and there is nothing to indicate that they ever saw the Seri tribesmen. Their descriptions of the Indians encountered fairly fit the peaceful Papago of the interior and the timid Tepoka of the coast; and neither Mange’s narrative nor other contemporary records suggest contact between the exploring party and the distinctive holders of Tiburon. The specific and repeated references in the itinerary to the island of San Agustin, or Tiburon, evidently relate to the ancient Isla de Santa 60 Inez, the modern Isla Angel de la Guarda,48 one of the most prominent geographic features visible either from Cerro Nazareno or from the adjacent coast. There is no reason to infer that Kino or any of his party ever detected their error in identification of geographic features which must have been conspicuous in the lore of the aborigines and settlers of Sonora; indeed, the error well attests the prominence of the Seri and their habitat in the local thought of the time.49

Now, this itinerary clearly outlines the events and locations of a journey down the Rio San Ignacio valley (also known as Santa Magdalena, Altar, Ascuncion, Pitiquito, Caborca, etc., at various points along its route), starting from the current city of Santa Magdalena through the current town of Caborca to the coast at a spot almost directly west of both Caborca and Santa Magdalena. Furthermore, Kino’s 1702 map46 marks “Nazareno” on this river and allows for the identification of the mountains with Dewey’s “three conspicuous peaks” located just inland from the lagoon at the mouth of the San Ignacio River, according to the Hydrographic Office charts; it also positions Caborca (incorrectly written as “Cabetka”) approximately. Additionally, it would have been physically impossible for Kino's fairly well-equipped party, complete with carriages and church gear, to cross the untraveled and harsh terrain from Caborca to even the closest part of Seriland in just over two days and a distance of 29 leagues (about 74 miles), as described in the itinerary. The most direct route from Caborca to Tiburon would head directly south across mountain-riddled and rugged plains that had not been explored by Europeans, nor previously traversed by indigenous peoples as far as known, for over 100 miles in a straight line; while the closest feasible path, going through Cieneguilla, Las Cruces, Pozo Noriega, Bacuachito, Sayula, Tonuco, Rancho Libertad, and Barranca Salina (or Aguaje Parilla), measures nearly 200 miles and would take at least six days to travel with good horses and light gear. The Kino party could have gone southwest from Caborca and made their way to the now-abandoned landing at the anchorage below Cabo Lobos;47 however, the specific directions and distances noted, along with the clear identification of Rio San Ignacio at the journey's end and other points, confirm that this was not the actual route taken. The endpoint of the trip established by the itinerary is over 100 miles from the nearest part of Seriland proper; in addition, Tiburon is obscured from both the coast and Cerro Nazareno, not only by distance but also by intervening mountains, particularly those extending into the Gulf to form Cabo Lobos and Punta Tepopa. Therefore, Kino and Mange completely missed Seriland in their expedition to the coast, and there is no evidence that they ever encountered the Seri tribespeople. Their descriptions of the indigenous people they met align more with the peaceful Papago of the interior and the shy Tepoka of the coast; neither Mange’s account nor other contemporary records suggest any contact between the exploring group and the distinct inhabitants of Tiburon. The specific and repeated mentions in the itinerary of the island of San Agustin, or Tiburon, are clearly referring to the old Isla de Santa Inez, now known as Isla Angel de la Guarda,48 one of the most notable geographic features visible from Cerro Nazareno or the nearby coast. There is no indication that Kino or any of his party ever recognized their mistake in identifying geographic features that must have been prominent in the knowledge of the indigenous and settler communities of Sonora; indeed, the mistake highlights the significance of the Seri and their territory in the local context of that time.49


An effect of the Jesuit invasion was to give record to episodes growing out of alien contact with the Seri. One of the earliest of these records recounts nocturnal raids by the “Seris Salineros” for robbery and murder in the pueblos of Tuape, Cucurpe, and Magdalena (de Tepoca).50 In January, 1700, Sergeant Juan Bautista de Escalante set out with fifteen soldiers to this mission of Santa Magdalena de Tepoca on an expedition of protection and reprisal; and here he learned that the “Seris Salineros” had killed with arrows three persons. Taking their trail, he reached Nuestra Señora del Populo only to find that ten families of converts had deserted to steal cattle, whereupon he started in search of them; he overtook them 20 leagues away, and, despite armed resistance on their part, arrested and whipped them and returned them to the pueblo. Among the captives were two “Seris Salineros” concerned in the murders at Tepoca, and three others guilty of similar outrages at the Pueblo de los Angeles de Pimas Cocomacagües; these he executed as a warning to the others, after taking their depositions and confessions, and after they were shrived by Padre Adano Gilo (or Adan Gilg), the priest of Populo. This duty performed, he resumed the trail of the Seri, accompanied by the padre; and, approaching the sea, he found a port, as well as an island to which most of the Seri had escaped in balsas, leaving eight of their number, who were arrested and turned over to the priest.51

An effect of the Jesuit invasion was to document events arising from foreign contact with the Seri. One of the earliest records describes nighttime raids by the “Seris Salineros” for theft and murder in the towns of Tuape, Cucurpe, and Magdalena (de Tepoca).50 In January 1700, Sergeant Juan Bautista de Escalante set out with fifteen soldiers to the mission of Santa Magdalena de Tepoca on a mission of protection and retaliation; here, he learned that the “Seris Salineros” had killed three people with arrows. Following their trail, he reached Nuestra Señora del Populo, only to find that ten families of converts had fled to steal cattle, prompting him to search for them; he caught up with them 20 leagues away, and despite their armed resistance, he arrested and whipped them and brought them back to the pueblo. Among the captives were two “Seris Salineros” involved in the murders at Tepoca, and three others guilty of similar crimes at the Pueblo de los Angeles de Pimas Cocomacagües; he executed them as a warning to the others, after taking their statements and confessions, and after they were shrived by Padre Adano Gilo (or Adan Gilg), the priest of Populo. After completing this task, he resumed the pursuit of the Seri, accompanied by the padre; as they approached the sea, he found a port and an island where most of the Seri had escaped in balsas, leaving behind eight of their members, who were arrested and handed over to the priest.51

This is the first record of actual invasion of Seriland by Caucasians. According to Bancroft, it “may be deemed the beginning of the Seri wars which so long desolated the province”.52

This is the first documented instance of a Caucasian invasion of Seriland. According to Bancroft, it “can be considered the start of the Seri wars that devastated the province for so long.”52

The next noteworthy episode occurred when Sergeant Escalante, who had returned to Tuape and Santa Magdalena (de Tepoca), again set out for the coast on February 28, 1700, taking a new route (probably down Rio Bacuache). He traveled 30 leagues, passing four watering places, and on March 6 arrived at the Paraje de Aguas Frias (probably 61 Pozo Escalante or Agua Amarilla of recent maps); there, three nights later, he was attacked by archers, who discharged arrows into the soldiers’ camp and immediately fled. Subsequently, seeking their enemies close to the sea 20 leagues away (probably on the eastern shore of El Infiernillo), Escalante and his men were joined by 120 Tepoka people; and, failing to find their assailants, they gave these allies a supply of provisions and turned them over to Padre Melchor Bartiromo, who allotted to them, in conjunction with 300 deserters from the missions who had been captured by the soldiers, not only lands but corn for sowing and eating. Having thus disposed of the Indians, Escalante and his soldiers returned to the coast on March 28, 1700, to punish the boldness and pride of the Indians in their stronghold (“los indios seris de la ranchería del medio”). Passing by balsas to the island, “they overtook those who caught up bows and arrows to fight, of whom they slew nine as an example to the others”; and these others they captured and sent to the priest at Populo—after which the party returned to Cucurpe in time to celebrate Holy Thursday on April 8.53

The next significant event happened when Sergeant Escalante, who had gone back to Tuape and Santa Magdalena (de Tepoca), set out for the coast again on February 28, 1700, taking a new route (likely along the Rio Bacuache). He traveled 30 leagues, stopping at four water sources, and arrived at the Paraje de Aguas Frias (possibly Pozo Escalante or Agua Amarilla on recent maps) on March 6. Three nights later, he was attacked by archers who shot arrows into the soldiers’ camp and quickly retreated. Later, while searching for their attackers near the sea, 20 leagues away (likely on the eastern shore of El Infiernillo), Escalante and his men were joined by 120 Tepoka people. Unable to find their enemies, they supplied these allies with provisions and handed them over to Padre Melchor Bartiromo, who allocated them land as well as corn for planting and eating, alongside 300 deserters from the missions who had been captured by the soldiers. After settling the Indians, Escalante and his soldiers returned to the coast on March 28, 1700, to address the boldness and defiance of the Indians in their stronghold (“los indios seris de la ranchería del medio”). Crossing by raft to the island, “they caught up with those who grabbed bows and arrows to fight, killing nine as an example to the others”; they captured the rest and sent them to the priest at Populo—after which the group returned to Cucurpe just in time to celebrate Holy Thursday on April 8.53

This contemporary recital, written by Escalante’s acquaintance and rival in exploration and subjugation, Juan Mateo Mange, bears both internal and external evidence of falling well within the truth. It is corroborated and extended by Alegre’s version, written forty or fifty years later on data at least partially independent: according to Alegre, Escalante and his soldiers went on balsas to the “Isla de los Seris, which is called San Agustin by some, but more commonly Tiburon”. He added that the retreats of the Seri after the murders and robberies committed at the pueblos of Pimeria, as well as the abundant pearl fisheries, have made this place highly noted (“muy famosa”); and he correctly described the strait and the projecting sand-banks opposite the center of the island, which reduce the open water to a width of barely half a league: “At this constriction the Seri cross in balsas composed of many slender reeds, disposed in three bundles, thick in the middle and narrowing toward the ends, 5 and 6 varas in length. These balsas sustain the weight of four or five persons, and with light two-bladed paddles 2 varas in length cut the water easily.” He remarked also that while a part of the Seri seen on the island by Escalante were captured the major portion escaped, “fleeing with great swiftness”.54

This modern account, written by Escalante’s acquaintance and rival in exploration and conquest, Juan Mateo Mange, shows clear evidence of its truth. Alegre’s version, written forty or fifty years later using information that is at least partly independent, supports and expands on this. Alegre states that Escalante and his soldiers traveled on rafts to the “Isla de los Seris, which some call San Agustin, but more commonly Tiburon.” He noted that the Seri retreated after the killings and robberies at the pueblos of Pimeria, as well as the rich pearl fisheries, which have made this place very famous (“muy famosa”); he accurately described the strait and the sandbanks opposite the center of the island, which narrow the open water to barely half a league: “At this narrow passage, the Seri cross in rafts made from many slender reeds bundled into three sections, thick in the middle and tapering at the ends, 5 and 6 varas long. These rafts can carry four or five people, and with light two-bladed paddles 2 varas long, they move easily through the water.” He also mentioned that while some of the Seri seen on the island by Escalante were captured, the majority managed to escape, “fleeing with great swiftness.”54

The early record is also corroborated, in a manner hardly credible in regions of more rapid social and physiographic development, by local tradition and by the survival of the well excavated by the party and still bearing Escalante’s name.

The early record is also supported, in a way that seems unbelievable in areas with faster social and physical development, by local tradition and by the well that was dug by the group and still carries Escalante’s name.

On the whole it may be considered established that Sergeant Escalante crossed El Infiernillo and visited Tiburon in 1700; and, although it may be possible that pearl fishers or others preceded him, he must be credited with the first recorded exploration of strait and island by white men. 62

Overall, it’s generally accepted that Sergeant Escalante crossed El Infiernillo and visited Tiburon in 1700; while it’s possible that pearl fishers or others got there before him, he should be recognized for the first documented exploration of the strait and island by white men. 62

The specific references to the Seri and their insular habitat by Ribas, by Kino and his chronicler, and by the various recorders of Escalante’s expeditions, establish the extent of the lore concerning people and place, even before the end of the seventeenth century. This lore found measurable expression in maps prepared in Europe, even by those cartographers who purposely or otherwise ignored the surveys of Ulloa and Alarcon. In his “newest and most accurate” map of America, 1662, Fredericus de Witt depicted the Gulf of California (“Mare Ver mio olim Mare Rvbrvm”) as extending northward to connect with the mythic Strait of Anian (“Fretum Aniani”), yet he located Rio Colorado (“R. de Tecon”) and Rio Gila (“R. de Coral”) approximately, placing the largest island in the gulf, named “I. Gigante”, just off their (common) embouchure;55 and an anonymous map of the Pacific ocean, apparently by the same author and of closely corresponding date, is essentially similar.56 The map of the northern part of America by Peter van der Aa, about 1690, is also similar, though on smaller scale;57 and the same may be said of that cartographer’s new map of America, issued about the same time, in which the island is designated “I. de Gigante”.58 A somewhat later map by Van der Aa (although supposed to have been issued in 1690) is greatly improved; the “Mer de Californie” is brought to rather indefinite end a little above the mouth of Rio Colorado (“R. de bona guia”); the “Pimases” are placed in proper position with respect to the Gila (“R. de Coral”), and the “Herises” are located a third of the way and the “Ahomeses” halfway down the gulf; while a greatly elongated island stretches from the one to the other off the province of “Sonora”.59 The origin of the name “Gigante” is uncertain; it may be borrowed from a land feature. As used in some cases it apparently connotes the size of the island, while the use in other cases evidently connotes gigantic inhabitants.

The specific mentions of the Seri and their isolated home by Ribas, Kino and his chronicler, and the various accounts of Escalante’s expeditions show how much knowledge existed about the people and place even before the late seventeenth century. This knowledge was reflected in maps created in Europe, even by cartographers who either purposely or inadvertently overlooked the surveys of Ulloa and Alarcon. In his "newest and most accurate" map of America from 1662, Fredericus de Witt illustrated the Gulf of California ("Mare Vermio olim Mare Rvbrvm") as stretching north to connect with the legendary Strait of Anian ("Fretum Aniani"), while he accurately placed Rio Colorado ("R. de Tecon") and Rio Gila ("R. de Coral"), along with the largest island in the gulf, called "I. Gigante," situated just off their (common) mouth;55 and an anonymous map of the Pacific Ocean, likely by the same author and from around the same time, is essentially the same.56 Peter van der Aa's map of northern America, from about 1690, is also similar, although on a smaller scale;57 the same goes for that cartographer’s updated map of America released around the same time, where the island is labeled "I. de Gigante."58 A later map by Van der Aa (though supposedly published in 1690) shows significant improvements; the "Mer de Californie" ends somewhat ambiguously just above the mouth of Rio Colorado ("R. de bona guia"); the "Pimases" are correctly placed in relation to the Gila ("R. de Coral"), while the "Herises" are located a third of the way down and the "Ahomeses" halfway down the gulf; a long island stretches between the two off the province of "Sonora."59 The origin of the name "Gigante" is unclear; it may be taken from a land feature. In some cases, it seems to refer to the size of the island, while in others, it likely suggests giant inhabitants.

Naturally, in view of the slow and imperfect diffusion of knowledge characteristic of early times, cartographers were dilatory in introducing the observations of Kino and Escalante. The map of America by Herman Moll, about 1708,60 represents the “Gulf of California or Red Sea”, connecting the “South Sea” with the “Straits of Anian”, and depicts Rio Colorado (“Tison R.”) and a composite river apparently designed to represent Rio Gila (made up of “R. Sonaca”, “R. Azul”, and “R. Colorado”, with two other long tributaries from the south) embouching separately a little below midlength of the gulf. Somewhat above these are three islands, one of which is designated “Gigate 63 Isle”, while “Pimeria” is located correctly with respect to Rio Gila, though too close to the sea, and “R. Sonora” is located too far southward, with a province of the same name just north of it. There is no reference to the Seri, but a locality in Lower California opposite Sonora is named “Gigante”.61 Quite similar is the map of North America drawn and engraved by R. W. Seale about 1722, though the provinces of Pimeria and Sonora are brought closer together, while the magnified Gila is named Colorado (“Tison R.” also being retained).62 The map of North America presented to the Duc de Bourgogne by H. Iaillot about 1720 is much the same; the “Isle de Californie” is separated from the continent by “Mar Vermejo ou Mer Rouge” with four islands, of which the southernmost, “I. de Gigante”, lies somewhat below the separate mouths of “R. de Tecon” and “R. de Coral”, while the extravagantly magnified Gila of previous maps is partially replaced by a still more extravagant “R. del Norte”, rising in a mythical lake above the fortieth parallel and falling into the gulf under the thirtieth.63 The map of Mexico and Florida by Guillaume “De l’Isle”, published in Amsterdam by Covens and Mortier, 1722, patently begs the question as to the northern extension of “Mer de Californie” by cutting off the cartography at the critical point. “R. del Tison” is retained as a subordinate river, while the separate and greatly magnified Gila corresponds with that of the Iaillot map, the upper tributary being “R. Sonaca ou de Hila”; “R. di Sonora” is depicted in approximate position, with the province of the same name extending northward and “Seris” located a little above the mouth of the river. No islands are shown in the vicinity, but the name “Gigante” appears on the western coast of the gulf, about latitude 26°.64 The map of North America by the same author, supposed to date about 1740 though probably earlier, recalls the Van der Aa map of 1690 (?); “Mer de Californie ou Mer Vermeille” ends doubtfully about latitude 34°, where “R. de bona guia” and “R. de Coral” bound the “Campagne de bona guia”, and fall separately into the gulf near its head; the “Pimases”, “Herises”, “Sumases”, “Aibinoses”, and “Ahomeses” are distributed thence southward along the coast to about the twenty-eighth parallel, while a nameless island stretches parallel with the coast of “Sonora” from about 28° to 32°.65

Naturally, due to the slow and imperfect spread of knowledge typical of earlier times, mapmakers were slow to incorporate the observations of Kino and Escalante. The map of America by Herman Moll, around 1708, 60 shows the “Gulf of California or Red Sea”, connecting the “South Sea” with the “Straits of Anian”. It illustrates Rio Colorado (“Tison R.”) and a combined river likely meant to represent Rio Gila, made up of “R. Sonaca”, “R. Azul”, and “R. Colorado”, along with two other long tributaries from the south, all flowing separately just below the middle of the gulf. A bit further up are three islands, one labeled “Gigate 63 Isle”, while “Pimeria” is correctly placed in relation to Rio Gila, although it’s too close to the sea, and “R. Sonora” is too far to the south, with a province of the same name just north of it. There’s no mention of the Seri, but a location in Lower California across from Sonora is called “Gigante”. 61 A very similar map of North America created by R. W. Seale around 1722 shows the provinces of Pimeria and Sonora positioned closer together, and the enlarged Gila is labeled as Colorado (“Tison R.” is also kept). 62 The map of North America given to the Duc de Bourgogne by H. Iaillot around 1720 is largely the same; the “Isle de Californie” is separated from the mainland by “Mar Vermejo ou Mer Rouge” with four islands, the southernmost labeled “I. de Gigante”, which is situated just below the separate mouths of “R. de Tecon” and “R. de Coral”. Meanwhile, the excessively enlarged Gila from earlier maps is partially replaced by an even more exaggerated “R. del Norte”, which starts in a mythical lake above the fortieth parallel and flows into the gulf below the thirtieth. 63 The map of Mexico and Florida by Guillaume “De l’Isle”, published in Amsterdam by Covens and Mortier in 1722, clearly raises questions about the northern extension of “Mer de Californie” by cutting off the mapping at a crucial point. “R. del Tison” remains as a secondary river, while the separate and greatly enlarged Gila corresponds to that of the Iaillot map, with the upper tributary labeled “R. Sonaca ou de Hila”. “R. di Sonora” is shown in roughly the right spot, with the province of the same name stretching northward and “Seris” located just above the mouth of the river. No islands are depicted nearby, but the name “Gigante” appears on the western shore of the gulf, around latitude 26°. 64 The map of North America by the same author, thought to be from around 1740 but likely earlier, resembles the Van der Aa map from 1690 (?); “Mer de Californie ou Mer Vermeille” ends uncertainly near latitude 34°, where “R. de bona guia” and “R. de Coral” border the “Campagne de bona guia”, flowing separately into the gulf near its head; the “Pimases”, “Herises”, “Sumases”, “Aibinoses”, and “Ahomeses” are distributed southward along the coast to approximately the twenty-eighth parallel, while an unnamed island stretches parallel to the coast of “Sonora” from around 28° to 32°. 65

With one or two exceptions, these maps demonstrate the prevailing neglect or ignorance of the classic explorations along the western coast of America early in the sixteenth century; yet they introduce features representing vague knowledge of the Seri Indians and their insular habitat, undoubtedly derived (like that of Padre Kino and Sergeant Escalante anterior to their expeditions) from native sources. 64

With a few exceptions, these maps show the widespread neglect or lack of awareness regarding the classic explorations along the western coast of America in the early 1500s. However, they do include elements that reflect a vague understanding of the Seri Indians and their island living conditions, which likely came from native sources, similar to what Padre Kino and Sergeant Escalante learned before their expeditions. 64

The Kino map of 1702 gradually came to be recognized as trustworthy in important particulars, and brought to an end the baseless extension northward of the gulf; yet it was seriously inaccurate in details, particularly those affected by the erroneous identification of the second-largest island in the gulf with the largest. Accordingly Isla Santa Inez (the modern Isla Angel de la Guarda) is omitted from its proper position, and replaced by “I. S. August” close to the eastern coast; yet the land-mass of Tiburon is roughly defined as a peninsula bounded on the north by “Portus S. Sabina” (Bahia Tepopa) and on the south by “Baya S. Ioa. Bapt.” (Bahias Kunkaak and Kino). Two other considerable islands are represented as dividing the width of the bay west-southwest of “I. S. August”, and are named “2. Saltz-Insel”; although evidently traditional, their positions correspond roughly with those of San Esteban and San Lorenzo. The map locates the “Topokis” between Rio San Ignacio and Rio Sonora, with the “Guaimas” immediately below the latter.66 Kino’s three pier-like islands bridging the gulf were adopted in Delisle’s map of America, published in Amsterdam by Jean Cóvens and Corneille Mortier about 1722, in greatly reduced size, though larger islands are shown farther northward; and an ill-defined peninsula corresponding to Tiburon is retained.67 The D’Anville map of 1746 embodies Kino’s discoveries about the head of the gulf and retains his pier-like islands, yet not only corrects his error in omitting the second greatest island of the gulf, but perpetuates equal error in the opposite direction: “I. de S. Vicente” is made the largest of the islands and located near the western coast a little below the mouth of Rio San Ignacio, while “I. de Sta. Inés” is made second largest and is located southeast of it and near the eastern coast. The third island in size is named “Seris”, while the fourth and fifth, completing the Kino trio, are called “Is. de Sal”, and the mainland projection remains defined on the south by “B. de S. Juan”.68 The Vaugondy map of 1750 locates the transverse trio of islands in greatly reduced size, and omits the larger islands of the gulf.69 The islands, etc., of the Covens and Mortier map of 1757 correspond closely with D’Anville’s map of 1746, and a nameless bay defines a peninsula in the position of Tiburon.70 The Pownall map of 1783 also follows that of D’Anville so far as the islands are concerned, though the position of that corresponding to the present Angel de la Guarda lies beyond the limit of the sheet; “I. de Inez” lies some distance below the mouth of “Sta. Madalena” river, off the territory of the “Sobas” and “Seris”; “Seris I.” is smaller, the two “Sall Is.” are smaller still, and there is an ill-defined projection of the mainland, bounded on the south by “B. de S. Juan”.71

The Kino map from 1702 gradually became recognized as reliable in key details, putting a stop to the unfounded belief that the gulf extended northward. However, it was still seriously inaccurate in some details, especially due to the mistaken identification of the second-largest island in the gulf as the largest. As a result, Isla Santa Inez (now known as Isla Angel de la Guarda) is missing from its correct position and is replaced by “I. S. August,” which appears near the eastern coast. The landmass of Tiburon is roughly shown as a peninsula, bordered to the north by “Portus S. Sabina” (Bahia Tepopa) and to the south by “Baya S. Ioa. Bapt.” (Bahias Kunkaak and Kino). Two other significant islands are illustrated as separating the width of the bay to the west-southwest of “I. S. August” and are named “2. Saltz-Insel”; while they seem to be traditional, their locations roughly match those of San Esteban and San Lorenzo. The map places the “Topokis” between Rio San Ignacio and Rio Sonora, with the “Guaimas” just below the latter.66 Kino’s three pier-like islands connecting the gulf were included in Delisle’s map of America, published in Amsterdam by Jean Cóvens and Corneille Mortier around 1722, in much smaller size, although larger islands are depicted farther north; an undefined peninsula that corresponds to Tiburon is also shown.67 The D’Anville map of 1746 includes Kino’s discoveries regarding the head of the gulf and keeps his pier-like islands, but not only corrects his mistake of omitting the second-largest island in the gulf but also makes an equal mistake in the opposite direction: “I. de S. Vicente” is shown as the largest island and is positioned near the western coast, just below the mouth of Rio San Ignacio, while “I. de Sta. Inés” is now the second largest, located southeast of it near the eastern coast. The third largest island is called “Seris,” and the fourth and fifth, completing the Kino trio, are referred to as “Is. de Sal,” while the mainland projection is defined to the south by “B. de S. Juan.”68 The Vaugondy map from 1750 places the set of three islands in much smaller size and omits the larger islands in the gulf.69 The islands and other features on the Covens and Mortier map from 1757 closely align with D’Anville’s map from 1746, and an unnamed bay outlines a peninsula in the location of Tiburon.70 The Pownall map of 1783 also follows D’Anville's map regarding the islands, although the location of what corresponds to present-day Angel de la Guarda extends beyond the edge of the map; “I. de Inez” is positioned some distance below the mouth of “Sta. Madalena” river, off the territories of the “Sobas” and “Seris”; “Seris I.” is smaller, the two “Sall Is.” are even smaller, and there is an unclear projection of the mainland, bounded to the south by “B. de S. Juan.”71

While the makers of the later of these maps were engaged in perpetuating 65 the vestigial features, erroneous and otherwise, of the Kino map, the Jesuits of peninsular California employed themselves in reexploration of the western coast of the gulf, a particularly productive expedition being that of Padre Ferdinando Consag, in 1747. The padre’s map represents the western coast in considerable though much distorted detail, and depicts “I. del Angel de la Guarda” as a greatly elongated body, a third of the way across the gulf from the western coast; next in size is “I. d S. Lorenzo”; then come “ I. d S. Esteban” in the middle of the gulf, and in the same transverse line, but quite near the eastern coast, “I. d S. Agustin”, the two being approximately equal in size, while above and about equidistant from them is “I. de S. Pedro”, about half so large as either. These, with four smaller islands near the western coast, bear the general designation “Islas de Sal, si puedes”, which in this case may be translated “Salt (possibly) islands,” though later forms of the name imply a quite different meaning, i. e., “Islands of Get-out-if-(you-)can”, or “Get-out-if-canst”.72 The eastern coast shows two deep indentations named “Tepoca” and “Bahia d S. Juan Bautista” bounding a peninsula corresponding in position to insular Seriland.73 It is evident that the cartography of the eastern coast is based on that of Kino, that the island of San Agustin is hypothetic, and that the land-mass of Tiburon proper is not separated from the mainland, while San Pedro island is apparently the Isla Patos of the present. The more general map by Venegas combines details of the Consag, Kino, and other maps; “I. del Angel de la Guarda” is greatly magnified and placed somewhat too far northward, while both San Lorenzo and San Esteban are made much larger than “I. San Agustin”, which is represented as scarcely larger than “I. de S. Pedro”; the mainland is indented to 66 great depth by Kino’s “Pto. de Sta. Sabina” and “Bahia de Sn. Juan Baptista”, in such wise as to define a decided peninsula, while the “Seris” are located 2° farther southward and below Rio Sonora, and the “Guaimas” still farther down the coast.74 Another illustration of the chaotic notions of the time is afforded by the Baegert map, published in 1773, and credited largely to Consag.75 The sheet locates the author’s routes of arrival (1751) and departure (1768), the former overland from far down the coast to the mouth of “Torrens Hiaqui,” and thence directly across “Mare Californiae”, via “Tiburon” (lying just off the mouth of the river, in latitude 28°), with the usual congeries of islands, headed by “I. S. Ang. Gart” (Angel de la Guarda), in latitude 30°-31°, and the usual shore configuration above the debouchure of Rio Sonora; “Los Seris” are located in the interior between Rio Sonora and “Torrens Hiaqui”, while just above the mouth of the latter lies “Guaÿmas M.[ission] destr. per Apostatas Seris”. The Pownall map of 1786 incorporates Padre Consag’s results on reduced scale, but omits the islands toward the eastern shore of the gulf.76

While the creators of these later maps focused on preserving the outdated features, both correct and incorrect, of the Kino map, the Jesuits in peninsular California were busy re-exploring the western coast of the Gulf. A particularly significant expedition was led by Padre Ferdinando Consag in 1747. The padre’s map showcases the western coast in considerable, though distorted, detail and portrays “I. del Angel de la Guarda” as a long, narrow landmass about one-third of the way across the gulf from the western coast. Following in size is “I. d S. Lorenzo,” then “I. d S. Esteban” located in the middle of the gulf, and right on the same horizontal line, but much closer to the eastern coast, is “I. d S. Agustin,” both roughly the same size, while above them and roughly equidistant is “I. de S. Pedro,” which is about half the size of either. These, along with four smaller islands near the western coast, are collectively called “Islas de Sal, si puedes,” which could be translated as “Salt (possibly) islands,” although later interpretations of the name suggest a very different meaning, namely “Islands of Get-out-if-(you-)can,” or “Get-out-if-canst.” The eastern coast features two deep bays named “Tepoca” and “Bahia d S. Juan Bautista,” which frame a peninsula that aligns with where insular Seriland is located. It’s clear that the mapping of the eastern coast relies on Kino’s work, that San Agustin island is hypothetical, and that the landmass of Tiburon is not separated from the mainland, while San Pedro island is likely the Isla Patos we know today. Venegas’s more general map combines details from the Consag, Kino, and additional maps; “I. del Angel de la Guarda” is significantly enlarged and placed somewhat too far north, while both San Lorenzo and San Esteban are depicted as much larger than “I. San Agustin,” which is shown as barely larger than “I. de S. Pedro.” The mainland is deeply indented by Kino’s “Pto. de Sta. Sabina” and “Bahia de Sn. Juan Baptista,” creating a clear peninsula, while the “Seris” are positioned 2° further south and below Rio Sonora, with the “Guaimas” even farther down the coast. An example of the confusing ideas of that time is seen in the Baegert map, published in 1773, which is largely attributed to Consag. This map shows the author's paths of arrival (1751) and departure (1768), the former traveling inland from far down the coast to the mouth of “Torrens Hiaqui,” and then directly across “Mare Californiae,” via “Tiburon” (which is just off the river's mouth, at latitude 28°), alongside the usual collection of islands, led by “I. S. Ang. Gart” (Angel de la Guarda), at latitude 30°-31°, and the familiar shoreline layout above the mouth of Rio Sonora; “Los Seris” are marked in the interior between Rio Sonora and “Torrens Hiaqui,” while just above the mouth of the latter is “Guaÿmas M.[ission] destr. per Apostatas Seris.” The Pownall map from 1786 takes Padre Consag’s findings and scales them down, but excludes the islands on the eastern side of the gulf.

On the whole the cartography of a century indicates that the striking explorations of Ulloa, Alarcon, and Diaz were utterly neglected; it indicates, too, that Kino’s observations were promptly adopted, but that his erroneous identification of the island seen from Nazareno occasioned confusion; yet there is nothing to indicate definite knowledge of Escalante’s discoveries. Apparently the cartographic tangle began with the failure to discover the narrow strait traversing Seriland, coupled with hearsay notions of an insular Seri stronghold; it was complicated by Kino’s erroneous identification of the hearsay island; and it grew into the mapping of a traditional islet about the position of Tiburon, and the extension of the mainland into a peninsula embracing the actual land-mass of that island77—the islet lying about the site of the modern Isla Tassne, and often appearing under the name San Agustin.78 Accordingly, so far as maps are concerned, Escalante’s discoveries were no less completely lost than those of Ulloa.

Overall, the mapping of a century shows that the remarkable explorations of Ulloa, Alarcon, and Diaz were completely overlooked; it also shows that Kino’s findings were quickly accepted, but his mistaken identification of the island seen from Nazareno caused confusion. However, there's no clear evidence that Escalante’s discoveries were known at all. It seems the mapping confusion started with the failure to find the narrow strait through Seriland, combined with vague rumors of an insular Seri stronghold. This was made more complicated by Kino’s wrong identification of the rumored island, and it evolved into the depiction of a traditional islet near the location of Tiburon, as well as the mainland being mapped as a peninsula that included the actual land mass of that island—A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0—an islet located near the site of the modern Isla Tassne, and often referred to as San Agustin.78 Thus, when it comes to maps, Escalante’s discoveries were just as completely forgotten as those of Ulloa.


The recorded, history of the Seri Indians during the earlier two-thirds of the eighteenth century is largely one of zealous effort at conversion on the part of the Jesuit missionaries, who repeatedly approached the territory by both land and sea; yet the records touch also on events of exploration and on the characteristics of the tribe.

The documented history of the Seri Indians in the first two-thirds of the eighteenth century mainly revolves around the dedicated efforts of Jesuit missionaries, who frequently entered the territory by both land and sea. However, the records also mention exploration events and details about the tribe's characteristics.

One of the earliest chroniclers was Padre Juan Maria de Sonora, who in 1699-1701 inspected many of the missions of Lower California and 67 Sonora and acquainted himself in exceptional degree with the neophytes and their wilder kindred. About the beginning of 1701 he crossed with great danger (“pasé con grande peligro”) from Loreto to the eastern coast, and, accompanied by two “Indios Guaymas, caciques,” proceeded among the Sonoran settlements.79 On February 18 he was at the new town of Magdalena (de Tepoca), “where, with great labor, Padre Melchor Bartiromo had gathered more than a hundred souls of the maritime nation of Tepocas”, and where the visitors were accorded an enthusiastic reception. He went on to say:

One of the earliest chroniclers was Father Juan Maria de Sonora, who between 1699 and 1701 visited many of the missions in Lower California and Sonora, becoming exceptionally familiar with the neophytes and their more untamed relatives. Around early 1701, he made a dangerous journey ("pasé con grande peligro") from Loreto to the eastern coast, and alongside two "Indios Guaymas, caciques," he traveled through the Sonoran settlements. On February 18, he arrived at the new town of Magdalena (de Tepoca), "where, with great effort, Father Melchor Bartiromo had gathered more than a hundred souls from the coastal nation of Tepocas," and the visitors were warmly welcomed. He continued:

It is notable that where the Tepocas and Salineros are located the sea is populous with islands [muy poblado de islas], and the first of these toward the coast contains foot-folk [gente de á pié], who live on it. Then there are two islands much nearer the mainland of California, and it is said that they [the Tepoka] are able to navigate in their barquillas [balsas] to the adjacent coast; and the possession of these Tepocas, who are all Seris by nation, of certain words of the Cuchimies of [Lower] California, who occupy the opposite coast, indicates that they have communicated in other times.80

It’s interesting that the Tepocas and Salineros live in a place where the sea is filled with islands, and the first one near the coast is inhabited. There are also two islands much closer to the California mainland, and it’s said that the Tepokas can navigate their small rafts to the nearby coast. The fact that these Tepocas, who are all of Seri ethnicity, know some words from the Cuchimies of Lower California, who live on the opposite coast, suggests they have interacted in the past.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

This record is especially significant as indicating the affinity between the Seri and the Tepoka, as establishing the transnavigation of the Gulf by the Seri craft, and as explaining the possible passage of loan words from the Cochimi to the Seri, and presumptively from the Seri to the Cochimi.

This record is particularly important as it shows the connection between the Seri and the Tepoka, demonstrates the Seri’s navigation of the Gulf, and explains how loan words might have passed from the Cochimi to the Seri, and presumably from the Seri to the Cochimi.

A notable visitor to the shores of Seriland was Padre Juan Maria Salvatierra, who had previously “made a peace betwixt the Seris cristians, and the Pimas”, soon violated by the former “in the murder of 40 Pimas”. In August, 1709, he essayed the recovery of a vessel wrecked “on the barren coast of the Seris”, which these Indians were engaged in looting and breaking up for the nails; and, by dint of his “persuasive elocution ... not a little forwarded by the respectable sweetness of his air”, aided by timely explosions of the bark’s pateraroes (mortars), he induced restitution, the restoration of peace, and the reinstatement of several of the robbing and murdering Seri as communicants.81 Padre Salvatierra observed the distinctive character of the Seri tongue, but made no extended exploration of Seriland, either coastwise or interior.

A notable visitor to the shores of Seriland was Padre Juan Maria Salvatierra, who had previously “made a peace between the Christian Seris and the Pimas,” soon violated by the former “in the murder of 40 Pimas.” In August 1709, he attempted to recover a shipwreck “on the barren coast of the Seris,” which these Indians were looting and breaking apart for the nails. Through his “persuasive speech ... not a little aided by the respectable sweetness of his appearance,” along with timely explosions from the ship’s mortars, he secured the return of the stolen items, restored peace, and reinstated several of the robbing and murdering Seris as members of the church. 81 Padre Salvatierra noted the unique characteristics of the Seri language but did not conduct an extensive exploration of Seriland, either along the coast or inland.

The next noteworthy visitor was Padre Juan de Ugarte, who, at the instance of Salvatierra, undertook an exploration of the gulf coast complementary to Kino’s land explorations about its northern terminus. Ugarte was the Hercules of Baja California history; he awed the natives by slaying a California lion, unarmed save with stones, and enforced orderly attention to his catechizing by seizing an obstreperous champion by the hair, lifting him at arm’s length, and shaking him into submission; and under incredible difficulties due to absence of material and distance of timber, he built the first vessel ever constructed 68 in California, the bilander (two-master) El Triunfo de la Cruz—a fit prototype of the Oregon of nearly two centuries later—which proved to be the finest craft ever seen on the coast, and played an important role in later history.82

The next notable visitor was Padre Juan de Ugarte, who, at Salvatierra's request, explored the gulf coast in addition to Kino’s land explorations at its northern end. Ugarte was the Hercules of Baja California history; he amazed the locals by killing a California lion, armed only with stones, and commanded attention during his teachings by grabbing a loud local by the hair, lifting him at arm's length, and shaking him into submission. Despite tremendous challenges due to a lack of materials and the distance for timber, he built the first ship ever made in California, the bilander (two-master) El Triunfo de la Cruz—a fitting precursor to the Oregon nearly two centuries later—which turned out to be the finest vessel ever seen on the coast and played a significant role in later history.68

On May 15, 1721, Ugarte embarked at Loreto (Lower California) and skirted the coast northward to the Islas de Salsipuedes, whence he crossed the gulf to “Puerto de Santa Sabina, ó Bahia de San Juan Bautista” near the islands “en la Costa de los Tepoquis, y Seris”.83 The Indians soon appeared and, in excess of amity (ascribed to the display of the cross), threw themselves into the sea and swam to the ship, and afterward aided in taking water; for “early next day the Indians appeared in troops, and all with water-vessels; the men each with two in nets hanging from a pole across their shoulders, and the women with one.”84 After watering, the Ugarte party, accompanied by two of the Indians, set sail in the bilander with a pinnace and a canoe, and in the early morning found themselves in a narrow channel apparently separating the island from the mainland; the pinnace and the canoe were dispatched to courier the larger craft; but “the channel, besides being narrow and crooked, was so full of shoals that ... the bilander stuck and was in danger of being lost”, while the canoe and the pinnace were caught by the currents and carried “to such a distance as not to be seen”. Finding it impossible to return, the party pushed on, and “after three days of continual danger, they reached the mouth of the channel, where they found the boat and pinnace”; when they were surprised to find the strait opening, not into the gulf, but into a great and spacious bay. Approaching a landing, they were met by Indian archers wearing feather headdresses and comporting themselves in a threatening manner; but these were pacified by the two Indians brought from the watering-place. Here Ugarte was taken ill, and the islanders made thirteen “balsillas” on which fifty Indians passed to the bilander and urged him to land on the island, where they had prepared a house for his reception; this he did, despite severe suffering, and was received with great ceremony. After a short stay, the party explored the coast northward, stopping off Caborca to lay in supplies, and discovered (anew and independently) the mouth of the Colorado; then, despite repeated risk and much suffering from the exceeding tides, severe storms, and the terrible tiderips off Islas Salsipuedes, they finally made return to Loreto.

On May 15, 1721, Ugarte set off from Loreto (Lower California) and followed the coast north to the Islas de Salsipuedes. From there, he crossed the gulf to “Puerto de Santa Sabina, ó Bahia de San Juan Bautista” near the islands “on the coast of Tepoquis and Seris.” 83 Soon, the Indians showed up and, out of friendliness (attributed to the sight of the cross), jumped into the water and swam to the ship. They later helped gather water; “the next morning, the Indians came in groups, each carrying water containers; the men had two nets hanging from a pole across their shoulders, and the women had one.” 84 After getting water, Ugarte and two of the Indians set sail in the bilander along with a pinnace and a canoe. In the early morning, they found themselves in a narrow channel that seemed to separate the island from the mainland. The pinnace and the canoe were sent ahead to guide the larger craft; however, “the channel was not only narrow and winding but also so full of shoals that ... the bilander got stuck and was in danger of being lost,” while the canoe and the pinnace were swept away by the currents and “drifted out of sight.” Unable to turn back, they pressed on and after three days of constant danger, they reached the mouth of the channel, where they found the boat and pinnace. To their surprise, the strait opened not into the gulf but into a large, spacious bay. As they approached the shore, they were met by Indian archers wearing feather headdresses and acting threateningly, but they were calmed down by the two Indians from the watering site. Here, Ugarte fell ill, and the islanders constructed thirteen “balsillas” to carry fifty Indians to the bilander, urging him to land on the island where they had set up a house for him. He did so, despite his severe illness, and was greeted with great ceremony. After a brief stay, the party explored the coast northward, stopping at Caborca to gather supplies, and rediscovered the mouth of the Colorado River independently. Despite facing continuous danger and suffering from high tides, fierce storms, and dangerous currents near Islas Salsipuedes, they eventually made their way back to Loreto.

The itinerary of this voyage recounts the first recorded navigation through El Infiernillo; and, while it is too meager to permit retracing the trip in detail, it seems practically certain that the vessels entered Bahia Tepopa, watered at Pozo Hardy, passed around Punta Perla and thence southward through the strait, and emerged through Boca Infierno into Bahia Kunkaak, afterward proceeding westward and 69 northward around the outer coast, and thus circumnavigating Tiburon. While Ugarte’s pilot, Guilermo Estrafort (or Strafort),85 displayed great energy and courage in charting the coast, the voyage neither yielded published maps nor affected current and subsequent cartography; for, although Ugarte’s narrative and Estrafort’s map and journal were sent to Mexico to be presented to the viceroy, they were apparently lost.86 Nor does the itinerary indicate recognition of Kino’s error in identification of the Seri island, though several days were occupied in voyaging from the island to the latitude of Caborca; indeed, it seems probable that it was either Salvatierra, Kino’s intimate associate, or Ugarte, Kino’s colleague and Salvatierra’s intimate friend, who fixed the name of the pioneer padre on the geographic features still known as Bahia Kino and Punta Kino—features which Kino never knew, as already shown.

The itinerary of this journey details the first recorded navigation through El Infiernillo. While it's too brief to allow for a complete retracing of the trip, it seems quite certain that the ships entered Bahia Tepopa, refueled at Pozo Hardy, went around Punta Perla, and then headed south through the strait, finally coming out through Boca Infierno into Bahia Kunkaak. They then continued west and north along the outer coast, effectively circling Tiburon. Though Ugarte’s pilot, Guilermo Estrafort, showed great determination and bravery in mapping the coast, the voyage did not produce published maps or influence current and future cartography. Ugarte’s account and Estrafort’s map and journal were sent to Mexico for presentation to the viceroy, but they were apparently lost. The itinerary also does not acknowledge Kino’s mistake in identifying the Seri island, despite spending several days traveling from that island to the latitude of Caborca. In fact, it seems likely that it was either Salvatierra, Kino’s close associate, or Ugarte, Kino’s colleague and Salvatierra’s close friend, who named the geographic features now known as Bahia Kino and Punta Kino—places that Kino never actually saw, as previously mentioned.

Although both Salvatierra and Ugarte were on superficially amicable terms with the Seri, the amity was evidently of the shallowest and most evanescent sort. Venegas says:

Although both Salvatierra and Ugarte appeared to get along with the Seri, their friendliness was clearly very superficial and fleeting. Venegas says:

Of the Seris and Tepocas, although the padre passed among them with the pay in his hand, he could not induce them to assist him in any way, even when they saw the party in the greatest distress; while others toiled, they reclined with the greatest serenity, nor have they shown the priests the slightest civility during the forty years of their acquaintance—they utterly refused to part with ollas of coarse ware, even for a liberal exchange.87

Regarding the Seris and Tepocas, even though the priest walked among them with money in hand, he couldn’t get them to assist him at all, even when they saw the group in serious trouble. While others worked hard, they remained completely relaxed, and over the forty years of their relationship, they’ve shown the priests no kindness whatsoever—they stubbornly refused to part with their clay pots, even for a good trade. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

And the contemporary lore, crystallized in current administrative policy and later records, and corroborated by deep-rooted customs maintained for centuries and still persisting, is significant; it indicates that then, as now, it was the habit of the Tiburon islanders to flee from or fawn upon powerful visitors, to ambush or assail by night parties of moderate strength, to openly attack none but the weak or defenseless, yet ever to delight in tricking the credulity and consuming the stores and stock of aliens, and to revel in shedding alien blood when occasion offered. The adventurous hunters and gold seekers of the mainland, and the still hardier pearl fishers of the coast, wrote nothing; but both civil and ecclesiastical records imply common knowledge that weaker parties venturing into the purlieus of Seriland never returned—they disappeared and left no sign.

And the modern stories, reflected in current administrative policies and later records, and backed by long-standing traditions that have lasted for centuries and still continue, are important; they show that back then, just like now, the Tiburon islanders would either run away from or flatter powerful visitors, ambush or attack moderately sized groups at night, only openly confront the weak or defenseless, and always enjoy tricking the gullible while consuming the supplies and resources of outsiders, and taking pleasure in shedding the blood of foreigners when the opportunity arose. The adventurous hunters and gold seekers from the mainland, along with the even tougher pearl fishers from the coast, wrote nothing down; but both civil and church records suggest that it was commonly understood that weaker groups venturing into the outskirts of Seriland never made it back—they vanished without a trace.


While Salvatierra and Ugarte were occupied on the coast, the missionaries were no less industrious in the interior. The mission of Santa Magdalena de Tepoca was apparently soon abandoned; but the so-called Seri missions at Populo (Nuestra Señora del Populo) and Angeles (Nuestra Señora de los Angeles) were maintained from the time of Kino’s coming up to the expulsion of the Jesuits (in 1767), while that at Nacameri was nearly as well sustained. The relations 70 of these missions to Seriland are significant: according to the anonymous author of Sonora’s classic, “Rudo Ensayo”, written in 1763, Nacameri lay in the valley of Rio Opodepe (or Horcasitas), 7 leagues below the town of the same name (still extant); 9 leagues down the same stream lay Populo (on the site of the present town of Horcasitas); Angeles lay 3 or 4 leagues farther downstream, or over 12 leagues above the site of Pitic88 (the present Hermosillo); while various references indicate that the temporary mission of Santa Magdalena was located in the same valley, probably a few leagues above Opodepe.89 Accordingly, the missions ranged from 100 to 150 miles inland, measured in an air line, or four hard days’ journey, as shown by Escalante’s record, from the Seri coast. The nearest mission at Angeles was 75 miles, or three days’ journey, from the inland margin of Seriland proper, and the intervening territory was a depopulated expanse (“el grande despoblado”) according to Villa-Señor,90 ranged but not inhabited by Seri and Tepoka hunting parties. Never traversed by white men, save those of Coronado’s parties nearly two centuries before and of Escalante’s hurried expeditions of 1700, this “despoblado” was practically unknown; even the surprisingly well-informed author of “Rudo Ensayo” was unaware of the existence of Rio Bacuache, and noted only such prominent mountains as Cerro Prieto and “Bacoatzi the Great in the land of the Seris”,91 lying far outside the tribal home. The remoteness of the missions from the habitat of the tribe bears testimony to the dread with which they were regarded, and to the slightness of the influence exerted on the tribesmen by the zealous padres.

While Salvatierra and Ugarte were busy on the coast, the missionaries were just as hardworking in the interior. The Santa Magdalena de Tepoca mission was seemingly abandoned pretty quickly; however, the so-called Seri missions at Populo (Nuestra Señora del Populo) and Angeles (Nuestra Señora de los Angeles) were active from Kino's arrival until the Jesuits were expelled in 1767, with the Nacameri mission being almost as well-supported. The connections of these missions to Seriland are important: according to the anonymous writer of Sonora’s classic, “Rudo Ensayo,” penned in 1763, Nacameri was situated in the Rio Opodepe (or Horcasitas) valley, 7 leagues downstream from the town of the same name (which still exists); 9 leagues further down the same river was Populo (where the present town of Horcasitas is located); Angeles was 3 or 4 leagues further downstream, or over 12 leagues upstream from the site of Pitic88 (the present-day Hermosillo); and various references suggest that the temporary mission of Santa Magdalena was in the same valley, probably a few leagues above Opodepe.89 Thus, the missions were located about 100 to 150 miles inland, measured in a straight line, or a tough four-day journey, as indicated by Escalante’s notes, from the Seri coast. The nearest mission at Angeles was 75 miles, or three days’ journey, from the inland edge of Seriland, and the area in between was a barren stretch (“el grande despoblado”) according to Villa-Señor,90 populated only by Seri and Tepoka hunting groups. It had never been crossed by white men, except for Coronado’s parties nearly two centuries earlier and Escalante’s rushed expeditions of 1700; this “despoblado” was virtually unknown. Even the surprisingly knowledgeable author of “Rudo Ensayo” was not aware of the Rio Bacuache and only mentioned major mountains like Cerro Prieto and “Bacoatzi the Great in the land of the Seris,”91 which were far beyond the tribe’s territory. The distance of the missions from the tribe's habitat reflects the fear with which they were viewed and the limited impact the dedicated padres had on the tribesmen.

Despite the efforts of both priesthood and soldiery, the number of Seri converts at the missions was limited. In 1700 there were ten families at Populo; true, they had slipped away to maverick the herds (“por ladrones de ganados”), but Escalante overtook them and whipped them back to the shadow of the church; later he captured 120 Tepoka people (probably some twenty families, with a few strays), and recaptured 300 backsliders (perhaps fifty families or more), and haled them all to the mission, where lands were allotted to them and where they were carefully guarded by the ecclesiastics—until opportunity came for reescape; and to this congregation Escalante added a few Seri prisoners taken on Tiburon, as noted above. In 1727 Brigadier Pedro de Rivera noted a dozen tribes in central Sonora, including the “Seris” and “Tepocas”, numbering 21,746 “of all ages and both sexes”, all receiving 71 the ministrations of “los Padres de la Compañia de Jesvs”. He added: “Besides the above-named Indians there are found in the middle part of the province of Ostimuri, in the western part bordering on the Gulf of California, certain nations of pagans in small numbers; they are the Salineros, Cocomaques, and Guaymas.”92 Neither the numbers of Seri and Tepoka at the missions, nor the respective proportions at the missions and on the native habitat, were recorded by the brigadier. According to Alegre, eighty families (including those transferred from Pitic) were gathered at Populo and Angeles, under the specially sedulous efforts of Judge José Rafael Gallardo, in 1749;93 although Padre Nicolas de Perera, “who for the longest time bore with their insolent behavior, ... did not see more than 300 hundred persons when they had all come together”.94 It would appear that the great majority of the Populo and Angeles converts belonged to the Tepoka, while others belonged to the Guayma and Upanguayma, with whom the Seri were at war about that time;95 yet there were enough representatives of the Seri to gain a shocking character for sloth, filth, thievery, treachery, obstinacy, and drunkenness. Assuming that a quarter of the converts were Seri (and this ratio is larger than any of the known records would indicate), there could hardly have been more than a hundred of the tribe gathered about the several missions at this palmiest time of Jesuit missionizing; and the records show that by far the greater portion of these were women, children, cripples, and vieillards, the warriors being commonly slain in the vigorous proselyting expeditions conducted by the civil and military coadjutors of the padres. If at this time the Seri population reached the 2,000 estimated by Dávila96 and others, the proportion of proselytes (or apostates from Seri naturalism) was but 5 per cent of the tribe and naturally comprised the less vigorous and characteristic element. The writer of “Rudo Ensayo” reckons that during six years preceding 1763 the Seri stole from the settlers (for eating, the sole use to which they put such stock) “more than 4,000 mules, mares, and horses”,97 i. e., enough to sustain two or three hundred people, or a full thousand if this meat formed no more than a fourth or a fifth of their diet, as the contemporary records imply—and this was after the “extermination” of the Seri by Parilla in 1750.

Despite the efforts of both the priesthood and the soldiers, the number of Seri converts at the missions was small. In 1700, there were ten families at Populo; true, they had run off to steal cattle ("por ladrones de ganados"), but Escalante caught up with them and forced them back to the church; later he captured 120 Tepoka people (probably around twenty families, with a few strays), and recaptured 300 backsliders (perhaps fifty families or more), bringing them all to the mission, where land was assigned to them and they were closely monitored by the clergy—until they found another chance to escape; to this group, Escalante added a few Seri prisoners taken on Tiburon, as mentioned earlier. In 1727, Brigadier Pedro de Rivera noted a dozen tribes in central Sonora, including the “Seris” and “Tepocas,” totaling 21,746 “of all ages and both sexes,” all receiving the services of “los Padres de la Compañia de Jesvs.” He added: “In addition to the aforementioned Indians, there are small numbers of pagan nations found in the middle part of the province of Ostimuri, in the western area bordering the Gulf of California; they include the Salineros, Cocomaques, and Guaymas.” Neither the numbers of Seri and Tepoka at the missions nor their respective proportions at the missions and in their native habitat were recorded by the brigadier. According to Alegre, eighty families (including those transferred from Pitic) were gathered at Populo and Angeles, thanks to the diligent efforts of Judge José Rafael Gallardo in 1749; although Padre Nicolas de Perera, “who endured their insolent behavior for the longest time, ... did not see more than 300 people when they had all gathered together.” It seems the vast majority of the Populo and Angeles converts were Tepoka, while others belonged to the Guayma and Upanguayma, with whom the Seri were at war around that time; yet there were enough Seri representatives to earn a bad reputation for laziness, filth, theft, treachery, stubbornness, and drunkenness. Assuming that a quarter of the converts were Seri (this ratio is larger than any known records suggest), there could hardly have been more than a hundred of the tribe gathered at the various missions during the peak of Jesuit missionary activity; records indicate that most of these were women, children, disabled individuals, and elderly people, as the warriors were often killed during the vigorous proselytizing campaigns carried out by the civil and military collaborators of the padres. If the Seri population at this time reached the estimated 2,000 cited by Dávila and others, the proportion of converts (or those who abandoned Seri beliefs) represented only 5 percent of the tribe and mostly comprised the less vigorous and typical members. The writer of “Rudo Ensayo” states that in the six years leading up to 1763, the Seri stole from settlers (for food, the only purpose for which they used such livestock) “more than 4,000 mules, mares, and horses,” which is enough to sustain two or three hundred people, or a full thousand if this meat made up only a quarter or a fifth of their diet, as suggested by contemporary records—and this was after the “extermination” of the Seri by Parilla in 1750.

Evidently the good padres greatly overestimated their knowledge of and influence on this savage yet subtle tribe; actually they touched the Seri character only lightly and temporarily, contributing slightly 72 to spontaneous acculturation, but never coming into relation with the tribe as a whole.

Clearly, the well-meaning padres greatly overestimated their understanding of and impact on this wild yet nuanced tribe; in reality, they only made a brief and superficial impression on the Seri character, contributing a little to spontaneous cultural change, but never truly connecting with the tribe as a whole. 72

And despite the efforts of both soldiers and priests, the savages continued to ravage the settlements, to repel pioneering, to decimate the herds and murder the vaqueros who sought to protect them, to plunder everything portable and ambuscade punitive parties, and even to engage in open hostilities. “In 1730 the Seris, Tepocas, Salineros, and Tiburon islanders kept the province in great excitement, killing twenty-seven persons and threatening all the pueblos with a general conflagration”;98 and both before and after this date the recorded sanguinary episodes were too frequent for even passing mention, while the indications between lines point to robberies and assassinations and minor conflicts too many for full record even by the patient chroniclers of the time.

And despite the efforts of both soldiers and priests, the natives continued to devastate the settlements, push back pioneers, slaughter the herds, and kill the cowhands trying to protect them. They looted everything they could carry, set ambushes for punitive expeditions, and even started open hostilities. “In 1730, the Seris, Tepocas, Salineros, and Tiburon islanders kept the province in a state of alarm, killing twenty-seven people and threatening all the towns with widespread destruction”;98 and both before and after this date, the records of violent incidents were too frequent for even a brief mention. The clues throughout the accounts suggest that thefts, murders, and minor skirmishes happened too often to be fully documented, even by the diligent chroniclers of that era.


Sometime about the beginning of the eighteenth century the Spanish settlements pushed down Rio Sonora beyond the confluence of the Opodepe to the last water gap, made conspicuous by a marble butte in its throat and by the fact that here the sometimes subterranean flow always rose to the surface in a permanent stream of pure and cool water. Here, according to Padre Dominguez, “it was attempted to locate the Presidio of Cinaloa against the rapacity of the Zeris, Tepocas, and Pimas; and here General Idobro, of Cinaloa, wished to found a pueblo of Tiburon Indians, brought for the purpose [probably from Populo and Angeles] that they might be kept in subjection, but most of them returned to their island and attempted to make attacks from their hiding places.”99 Nevertheless, the padre found 29 married persons, 14 single, and 99 children of these “races” at the rancho. At the time of his visit the place was known as Rancho del Pitquin; later it became the Pueblo of Pitic, or Pitiqui, or Pitiquin, or San Pedro de Pitic,100 and long afterward the city of Hermosillo, while the beautiful marble butte was christened Cerro de la Campana.

Sometime around the early eighteenth century, the Spanish settlements expanded down the Rio Sonora past the junction with the Opodepe to the last water gap, marked by a striking marble butte and the fact that the sometimes underground water always surfaced as a consistent stream of pure, cool water. Here, according to Padre Dominguez, “they tried to establish the Presidio of Cinaloa to protect against the greed of the Zeris, Tepocas, and Pimas; and here General Idobro of Cinaloa wanted to create a pueblo for the Tiburon Indians, brought in for this purpose [probably from Populo and Angeles] so they could be kept under control, but most of them went back to their island and tried to launch attacks from their hideouts.”99 Despite this, the padre found 29 married individuals, 14 singles, and 99 children from these “groups” at the ranch. When he visited, the place was known as Rancho del Pitquin; it later became the Pueblo of Pitic, or Pitiqui, or Pitiquin, or San Pedro de Pitic,100 and much later, the city of Hermosillo, while the beautiful marble butte was named Cerro de la Campana.

By 1742 the settlements were so far extended as to warrant the establishment of a royal fort in the water-gap at Pitic;101 and the ecclesiastics kept pace with the military movement by founding the mission of San Pedro de la Conquista,102 or “Pueblo de San Pedro de la Conquista de Seris”103 (now abbreviated to “Pueblo Seris”, or merely “Seris”); both fort and mission being designed primarily for better 73 protection of the settlements against Seri sorties. These outposts brought the missionaries and their soldier supporters a day’s journey nearer Seriland, i. e., to within some 27 leagues (71 miles), or two days’ journey, from Bahia Kino and the desert boundary of the Seri stronghold; and although neither fort nor mission was continuously maintained, the event marked a practically permanent advance on the “despoblado” previously despoiled and desolated by the wandering Seri.

By 1742, the settlements had expanded enough to justify building a royal fort in the water-gap at Pitic;101 and the clergy kept up with the military efforts by establishing the mission of San Pedro de la Conquista,102 or “Pueblo de San Pedro de la Conquista de Seris”103 (now shortened to “Pueblo Seris” or just “Seris”); both the fort and the mission were mainly created to provide better protection for the settlements against Seri attacks. These outposts brought the missionaries and their soldier allies a day’s journey closer to Seriland, about 27 leagues (71 miles), or two days’ journey, from Bahia Kino and the desert border of the Seri stronghold; and even though neither the fort nor the mission was consistently maintained, the event represented a significant, almost permanent advancement on the previously deserted and ravaged “despoblado” caused by the wandering Seri.

Even before this date friction between missionaries and laymen had grown out of the ecclesiastical charity for a people whose repeated atrocities placed them outside the pale of sympathy on the part of the industrial settlers; and this friction was felt especially about the new presidio. In 1749 Colonel Diego Ortiz Parilla became governor of Sonora, and began a rigorous rule over civilians, soldiers, ecclesiastics, and Indians; and when the 80 families (classed as Seri, but mainly of Tepoka and other tribes) domiciled at Populo were dissatisfied with his transfers of land and people, he promptly met their protests by arresting them and transporting the greater part of them, including all the women and children, to various places, “some even in Guatemala and other very distant parts of America.”104 Naturally this was resented, not only by the Seri messmates at the missions, but to some extent by their kinsmen over the plains and along the coast, with whom sporadic communication was maintained—chiefly through spies, but partly by occasional escapes of the practically imprisoned proselytes and the less frequent but more numerous captures of new converts; and the Seri raids became more extended and vindictive, reaching northward to Caborca, northeastward to Santa Ana and Cucurpe, and eastward into the fertile valley of Rio Opodepe at several points. Deeply incensed in his turn, Parilla undertook a war of extermination—a war interesting not merely as an episode in Seri history, but still more as a type of the Seri wars of two centuries. Organizing a force of 500 men, and bringing canoes from Rio Yaqui, he planned an expedition to Tiburon, to cover two months—and returned with 28 prisoners, “all women and children and not a single Seri man”; though he reported killing 10 or 12 warriors in action (according to other accounts the slain comprised only 3 or 4 oldsters). These women and children were domiciled at the pueblo of the Conquest of the Seri, which in current thought thenceforth became the pueblo of the Seri, and gradually passed into lore and later into history as the home of the tribe rather than the mere penitentiary which it was in fact. The padres waxed satirical over this quixotic conquest: Alegre recounts that—

Even before this time, tension had been building between missionaries and laypeople due to the church’s charity towards a group whose repeated violent acts made it hard for the industrial settlers to empathize with them; this tension was especially noticeable around the new presidio. In 1749, Colonel Diego Ortiz Parilla became the governor of Sonora and began to enforce strict control over civilians, soldiers, clergy, and Indigenous people. When the 80 families (classified as Seri, but mostly from the Tepoka and other tribes) living in Populo were unhappy with his distribution of land and people, he responded to their protests by arresting them and relocating many of them, including all the women and children, to various locations, “some even in Guatemala and other very distant parts of America.” Naturally, this was not well received, not only by the Seri at the missions but also to some extent by their relatives across the plains and along the coast, with whom sporadic communication was maintained—mainly through spies, but sometimes through the occasional escape of those who were practically imprisoned or the more frequent captures of new converts. The Seri raids expanded and became more brutal, reaching north to Caborca, northeast to Santa Ana and Cucurpe, and east into the fertile valley of Rio Opodepe at various points. Deeply angered, Parilla initiated a campaign of extermination—a campaign noteworthy not just as a chapter in Seri history but even more so as a representation of the Seri wars over two centuries. He organized a force of 500 men and used canoes from the Rio Yaqui to plan a two-month expedition to Tiburon, returning with 28 prisoners, “all women and children and not a single Seri man,” although he reported killing 10 to 12 warriors in battle (according to other accounts, the dead were only 3 or 4 elders). These women and children were settled in the pueblo of the Conquest of the Seri, which, in modern understanding, became known as the pueblo of the Seri and gradually transitioned from being seen as a mere prison to being recognized in lore and later history as the home of the tribe. The padres became sarcastic about this fanciful conquest: Alegre recounts that—

The good governor returned so vainglorious over his expedition that it was even said he would punish anyone intimating that there was a Seri left in the world, and proclaimed through all America and Europe that he had extirpated by the roots that infamous race.... The truth is that the force, on reaching Tiburon, ascertained that the enemy had retreated to the mountains; that none of the 75 Spaniards who accompanied the governor could be induced, either by entreaties or 74 threats, to ascend in search of the Seri; but that some of the Pima allies undertook to beleaguer the mountains, these, with one or another of the officers, being the only ones that saw the face of the enemy, and even these on two occasions only. From the first sally they returned reporting that they had killed 3 of the Seri, and their empty word was accepted; the second time they were so fortunate as to discover a village of women and children, whom they took prisoners, and returned declaring that the men had been left dead on the field. This famous conquest, which the manuscript drawn up by the commander of the expedition did not hesitate to compare with those of Alexander and Cæsar, who were as nothing beside the governor of Sonora, intoxicated much more the allied chief of the Pima, who had taken the leading part in the final victory.105

The governor came back from his mission so full of himself that people said he would punish anyone who suggested that any Seri were still alive. He announced all over America and Europe that he had completely eliminated that notorious group. In reality, when the troops reached Tiburon, they discovered that the enemy had retreated to the mountains. None of the 75 Spaniards who accompanied the governor could be persuaded, whether through pleading or threats, to go looking for the Seri. However, some of the Pima allies chose to lay siege to the mountains, and they, along with a few officers, were the only ones to actually encounter the enemy, and even then, it was only twice. On the first trip, they returned claiming to have killed 3 of the Seri, and their unsubstantiated report was accepted. The second time, they were fortunate to find a village of women and children, whom they captured, claiming that the men had been left dead on the battlefield. This so-called conquest, which the expedition's commander boldly compared to the achievements of Alexander and Cæsar—who were nothing compared to the governor of Sonora—greatly boosted the ego of the Pima chief who played a key role in the alleged victory.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Eventually the vanity of this chief (Luis, or “Luys de Saric”) led to a revolt on the part of the Pima tribe with the massacre of Padres Tello and Rohen at Caborca.

Eventually, the arrogance of this chief (Luis, or “Luys de Saric”) resulted in a revolt by the Pima tribe, which led to the massacre of Padres Tello and Rohen at Caborca.

Ortega was still more sarcastic in his fuller record of the expedition.

Ortega was even more sarcastic in his detailed account of the expedition.

The skepticism of the padres as to the completeness of Parilla’s extermination was well grounded, as was attested by the continuation of Seri sorties with undiminished frequency and by the persistence of hippophagy at the expense of the stockmen as already noted; moreover, in the absence of records of maritime operations, in view of the impracticability of transporting so large a force as that of Parilla on balsas, and in the light of a still common application of the name Tiburon to Sierra Seri and its environs as well as to the island, it would seem to be an open question whether the much-lauded expedition ever attained the insular stronghold, or even reached the seashore. However this may be, the expedition was the first of a long series sent out to exterminate one of the hardiest and acutest of tribes, wonted to one of the hardest and aridest of habitats; and, save in the subsequent advertising, all have yielded results more or less similar.

The padres' skepticism about whether Parilla’s extermination was truly complete was well founded, as shown by the ongoing Seri raids that continued with the same frequency and by the ongoing practice of hippophagy that negatively affected the stockmen. Furthermore, without any records of maritime operations, considering how impractical it would be to transport such a large force as Parilla's on balsas, and noting that the name Tiburon is still commonly used for both the Sierra Seri and its surroundings as well as the island, it remains an open question whether the highly praised expedition ever actually reached the island or even made it to the coast. Regardless of this uncertainty, the expedition was the first in a long series aimed at exterminating one of the most resilient and clever tribes, which was accustomed to one of the toughest and driest environments; and aside from the subsequent publicity, all of them have produced similar results to varying degrees.

Another curtailment of the range of the Seri dates from the refounding of the mission of “San José de Guaimas”106 (on the site of the present Guaymas) in 1751, and the establishment of a “rancho called Opan Guaimas” some distance up the coast about the same time; the site of the mission being that of a sanctuary located by Kino in 1701, and revisited by Salvatierra and Ugarte, though never continuously maintained. True, the padre and the ranchero suffered from the Seri, who displaced the former, killed eight of his converts, burned the church, and scattered the hundred families of the pueblo, afterward keeping the Spaniards at a distance for ten years;107 yet the settlers only returned with new vigor, and gradually gained the strength requisite for holding the town. Naturally the belligerency of the Seri in this vicinity impressed the state authorities with the desirability of further “extermination”; and when in 1756 a band of the Seri, after a hypocritical suit for peace, entrenched themselves among the all but inaccessible 75 rocks and barrancas of Cerro Prieto (a ragged sierra midway between Pitic and San José de Guaimas, which for this reason came to be regarded—erroneously—as the headquarters of the tribe), Don Juan Antonio de Mendoza, then governor of Sonora, sent out a strong body of soldiery to dislodge or destroy them; but after 200 of the soldiers were ambushed and 24 of them wounded, the expedition returned to the capital, San Miguel de Horcasitas. Stung by this defeat, Mendoza reorganized his force and led the way in person to Cerro Prieto, where one of the four parties into which the force was divided wrought such execution that, in the following May, there were seen the bodies of enemies “dead and eaten by animals, dead and partly buried in the earth, dead lying in caves, and dead in the water-pockets of the sierra”.108 In this battle Mendoza himself was ambushed and attacked by three Seri archers, escaping only by the mediation of his saint (“por medio de mi santo”); but during the ensuing night he carried out the ingenious ruse of beating drums in different parts of the canyon, which reechoed from the rocky heights with such terrifying effect that the enemy fled, leaving him in victorious possession of the field.

Another reduction in the Seri's territory happened after the mission of “San José de Guaimas”106 was reestablished at what is now Guaymas in 1751, along with the creation of a “rancho called Opan Guaimas” further up the coast around the same time. The mission was located at a sanctuary discovered by Kino in 1701, later visited by Salvatierra and Ugarte, though it was never consistently maintained. It's true that the padre and the rancher faced trouble from the Seri, who pushed the padre out, killed eight of his followers, burned down the church, and scattered the hundred families of the village, keeping the Spaniards at bay for ten years;107 however, the settlers returned with renewed determination and gradually regained enough strength to hold the town. Naturally, the Seri's aggressive behavior in this area made state authorities keen on further “extermination”; and when in 1756 a group of the Seri, after pretending to seek peace, made themselves entrenched among the nearly inaccessible rocks and cliffs of Cerro Prieto (a rough mountain range situated between Pitic and San José de Guaimas, which incorrectly came to be seen as the tribe’s headquarters), Don Juan Antonio de Mendoza, the governor of Sonora, dispatched a strong contingent of soldiers to either drive them out or eliminate them. However, after 200 soldiers were ambushed and 24 wounded, the expedition returned to the capital, San Miguel de Horcasitas. Aggrieved by this setback, Mendoza reorganized his troops and personally led the charge back to Cerro Prieto, where one of the four units into which his force was split caused such damage that by the following May, bodies of the enemies were found “dead and eaten by animals, dead and partly buried in the earth, dead lying in caves, and dead in the water-pockets of the sierra.”108 In this battle, Mendoza himself was ambushed and attacked by three Seri archers, escaping only through the intervention of his saint (“por medio de mi santo”); but during the night that followed, he cleverly used the tactic of beating drums in different parts of the canyon, which echoed off the rocky heights with such a frightful effect that the enemy fled, leaving him in victorious control of the field.

Again in 1760, when a band of the Seri (supposed to be temporarily combined with the Pima) took refuge in Cerro Prieto, Governor Mendoza attacked them with over 100 men; but a band of 19 Seri successfully held this force at bay for several hours, until their chief (called El Becerro) fell wounded and dying, yet retaining sufficient vitality to rise, as the Spaniards approached, and transfix Mendoza with an arrow—when the two leaders died together.109 Mendoza was succeeded by Governor José Tienda de Cuervo, who, in 1761, led a force of 420 men to Cerro Prieto, where a still bloodier battle was fought, the Seri losing 49 killed and 63 captured, besides 322 horses; though the greater part of their force escaped to the island of San Juan Bautista (San Esteban?).110

Again in 1760, when a group of the Seri (who were thought to be temporarily allied with the Pima) took shelter in Cerro Prieto, Governor Mendoza attacked them with over 100 men. However, a group of 19 Seri successfully held this force off for several hours until their chief (known as El Becerro) was wounded and dying, but still managed to get up as the Spaniards approached and fatally shot Mendoza with an arrow—resulting in both leaders dying together. 109 Mendoza was succeeded by Governor José Tienda de Cuervo, who, in 1761, led a force of 420 men to Cerro Prieto, where an even bloodier battle took place, with the Seri losing 49 killed and 63 captured, along with 322 horses; although most of their force managed to escape to the island of San Juan Bautista (San Esteban?). 110

In 1763 Don Juan de Pineda succeeded to the governorship, and obtained the cooperation of a force of national troops under Colonel Domingo Elizondo:

In 1763, Don Juan de Pineda took over as governor and gained the support of a group of national troops led by Colonel Domingo Elizondo.

Headquartering in El Pitiqui, he commenced active war against the said Seris, but was unable to reduce them, because, being separated and dispersed over their vast territory, they wore out the troops, who only occasionally stumbled on one little rancheria or another. For this reason, and because in many years they could not exterminate them, and desiring to leave the country, they opened negotiations with them, making them small presents and offering them royal protection if they would surrender peacefully. Some of them pretended to do this and assembled at Pitiqui, where they remained with the same bad faith as always, fed at the expense of the royal treasury, when the troops retired, leaving the evil uncured, but merely covered.111

Based in El Pitiqui, he launched an aggressive campaign against the Seris, but he couldn't conquer them because they were spread out over a large territory, which wore down his troops, who only occasionally encountered small rancherias. Because of this, and due to their inability to eliminate the Seris for many years, he wanted to leave the country, so they began negotiating with them. They offered small gifts and promised royal protection if they would surrender peacefully. Some of them pretended to agree and gathered at Pitiqui, where they continued their usual tricks, living off the royal treasury while the troops withdrew, leaving the issue unresolved but temporarily concealed. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

In the same year Padre Tomás Ignacio Lizazoin reported, for the 76 information of the viceroy, that the ravages of the Seri and other Indians “had caused the almost total abandonment of Pimeria and Sonora provinces”, and proposed plans for protection which were apparently never carried out.112

In the same year, Padre Tomás Ignacio Lizazoin informed the viceroy that the destruction caused by the Seri and other Indigenous groups "had led to the almost complete abandonment of the Pimeria and Sonora provinces," and he suggested protection plans that were apparently never implemented.112


The aggressive and bloody policy of Parilla, Mendoza, and Cuervo undoubtedly widened the divergence between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, and brought to nought the pacific policy of the latter. Inspired by fervid zeal, the good padres stretched the mantle of charity to its utmost over their converts, bringing into the fold all whom they could coax or coerce, and clinging unto all whom they could subsidize or suppress. Uninformed or misinformed concerning the extent of Seriland and the numbers and real traits of its inhabitants on their native heath, and professionally prone to see the most favorable side of the situation, they imagined themselves making conquest over a cruel and refractory tribe; yet careful review of the records indicates that they deluded themselves, and in some measure distorted history, through overweening notions concerning their progress in evangelizing the Seri. Actually, their converts were the lame and halt and blind left behind in the harder-pressed raids, captives taken in battle by the intrepid Escalante and other soldiers, apostates and outlaws ostracized and driven off by their fellows, spies sent out to find the way for further rapacity,113 and the general riffraff and offscouring of the tribe, who esteemed parasitism above the hereditary independence of their kin. This condition is attested by later examples; it is also attested by the rapidly growing divergence of the ecclesiastical and civil policies; it is equally attested by at least partial recognition of the situation on the part of several of the padres: Villa-Señor, writing about 1745, parades the mission and two pueblos of the tribe, and says, “All the Ceris Indians are Christians” (“Todos los Indios Ceris, son Cristianos”);114 yet he adds that “it is rare to find one who does not cling to the idolatry of their paganism”, and elsewhere describes the great “despoblado” extending to the coast as inhabited by pagan Seri and Tepoka Indians (“habitado de los Indios Seris, y Tepoca, Gentiles”).115 Venegas, writing about 1750, refers to “the Seris and Tepocas, who are either infidels or imperfectly reduced, and tho’ Father Salva Tierra civilized them and the missionaries have baptized many, they still retain such a love for their liberty and customs as all the labours of the missionaries have not been able to obliterate, so that it is impossible to incorporate them with the missions by mildness”;116 and his last word of them notes their massacre of Padres Tello and Rohen in Caborca, and ends 77 with an invocation “for the complete reduction of these unhappy savages, now involved in the shadow of death”.117 So, also, the talented author of “Rudo Ensayo”, writing in 1763, says of the Seri:

The aggressive and bloody tactics of Parilla, Mendoza, and Cuervo definitely deepened the gap between the civil and church authorities, undermining the peaceful approach of the latter. Driven by intense passion, the good padres extended their charity as far as possible to their converts, bringing in anyone they could persuade or force, while hanging on to those they could bribe or suppress. Lacking proper knowledge about the size of Seriland and the true nature of its people on their home turf, and inclined to see only the best in their situation, they believed they were conquering a cruel and stubborn tribe. However, a careful look at the records shows that they were fooling themselves and somewhat twisting history with their inflated ideas about evangelizing the Seri. In reality, their converts were the disabled and destitute left behind in more demanding raids, captives taken by the brave Escalante and other soldiers, defectors and outcasts expelled by their own people, scouts sent to pave the way for further exploitation, and the general misfits and outcasts of the tribe, who valued dependency over the traditional independence of their kin. This situation is confirmed by later evidence; it’s also confirmed by the widening gap between the church's and the state's policies; it is equally supported by at least partial acknowledgment of the situation by some of the padres: Villa-Señor, writing around 1745, lists the mission and two villages of the tribe, claiming, “All the Ceris Indians are Christians” (“Todos los Indios Ceris, son Cristianos”);114 yet he adds that “it is rare to find one who does not cling to the idolatry of their paganism”, and further describes the vast “despoblado” stretching to the coast as populated by pagan Seri and Tepoka Indians (“habitado de los Indios Seris, y Tepoca, Gentiles”).115 Venegas, writing around 1750, mentions “the Seris and Tepocas, who are either non-believers or only partly converted, and though Father Salva Tierra has civilized them and the missionaries have baptized many, they still have such a strong love for their freedom and traditions that none of the efforts of the missionaries have been able to erase it, making it impossible to fully integrate them into the missions peacefully”;116 and his final note on them mentions their killing of Padres Tello and Rohen in Caborca, concluding with a plea “for the complete conversion of these unfortunate savages, now caught in the shadow of death”.117 Similarly, the talented author of “Rudo Ensayo”, writing in 1763, remarks on the Seri:

They have always been wild, resisting the law of God, even those who had removed from among them to Populo, Nacameri, and Angeles, and who constituted the smallest part of the nation. And even these few, in order to have constant communication with and give information to their heathen relatives, used to go, as if they could not arouse suspicion, to spy out in other villages what they wanted to know for their plans, and immediately giving the intelligence they obtained to the runaway Indians, these would act accordingly and nobody could guess how they acquired the necessary information.118

They have always been defiant, breaking God's law, even those who had moved to Populo, Nacameri, and Angeles, making up the smallest part of the nation. Even these few would go to other villages to secretly gather information for their plans, pretending they weren't raising any suspicions. Once they got the intel, they would quickly pass it on to the runaway Indians, who would then take action, and no one could figure out how they had learned what they needed to know.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Again, in summarizing the relations with the tribe, this anonymous author naively remarked:

Again, in summarizing the relationships with the tribe, this anonymous author naively noted:

And at the present day, notwithstanding that in different encounters during the campaign of November, 1761, and before and since then, more than forty men have been killed by our arms and over seventy women and children have been captured, still they are as fierce as ever and will not lend an ear to any word of reconciliation.119

Today, even after fighting in various battles throughout the campaign in November 1761, where more than forty men were killed and over seventy women and children were captured, they remain just as fierce and refuse to accept any offers of reconciliation.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

In general, the Jesuit history of the Seri is clear enough with respect to the small extruded fraction, but nearly blind to the normal tribe; there is nothing to indicate clear recognition of Seriland as a hereditary habitat and stronghold; yet the records are such as to define the salient episodes in Seri history as seen from a distantly external view-point. Nor can it be forgotten that the erudite evangelists made a deep and indelible impression on the intellectual side of Sonora, and drew the strong historical outline on which their own relations to the civil authorities on the one hand and to the Seri Indians on the other hand are cast by the light of later knowledge.

In general, the Jesuit history of the Seri is fairly clear regarding the small extruded fraction, but it largely overlooks the main tribe. There’s nothing to show a clear acknowledgment of Seriland as a hereditary habitat and stronghold; however, the records do outline the key events in Seri history from a distant external perspective. It’s also important to remember that the knowledgeable evangelists left a lasting impact on the intellectual landscape of Sonora, shaping the significant historical framework that defines their relationships with civil authorities on one side and the Seri Indians on the other, as understood through the lens of later knowledge.

The discordance between the civil and military authorities and the dominant ecclesiastical order of Sonora sounded to Ciudad Mexico, and eventually echoed to Madrid, and was doubtless one of a series of factors which led to the needlessly harsh expulsion of the scholarly Jesuits in 1767—and hence to a hiatus in the history of the province and its tribes.

The conflict between the civil and military authorities and the powerful church in Sonora was heard in Mexico City, and eventually reached Madrid. This was definitely one of the reasons that led to the unnecessarily severe expulsion of the learned Jesuits in 1767, which caused a pause in the history of the province and its tribes.


Although the padres knew little of the habits and customs of the “wild” Seri save through hearsay, some of their notes are of ethnologic value: Villa-Señor located them on the deserts extending from Pitic and Angeles to Tepopa bay, and added:

Although the padres knew little about the habits and customs of the "wild" Seri except through hearsay, some of their notes are of ethnological value: Villa-Señor located them in the deserts stretching from Pitic and Angeles to Tepopa Bay, and added:

They hold and occupy various rancherias, and subsist by the chase of deer, bura [mule-deer], rabbits, hares, and other animals, and also on the cattle they are able to steal from the Spaniards, and on fish which they harpoon with darts in the sea, and on the roots in which the land abounds.120

They reside in different rancherias and make a living by hunting deer, mule deer, rabbits, hares, and other animals. They also take cattle from the Spaniards, fish with harpoons in the sea, and gather the plentiful roots from the land.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Villa-Señor distinguished the “Tepocas”, whom he combined with the 78 “Gueimas” and “Jupangueimas”. Alegre located the Seri on the coast of the gulf from a few leagues north of the mouth of Rio Yaqui to Bahia San Juan de Bautista (Bahia Kino), adding, “with them may be classed the Guaimas, few in number and of the same language”.121 Writing about the same time, José Gallardo observed: “The distinction is slight between the Seri and Upanguaima, the one and the other having the same idiom” (“Poco es la distincion que hay entre seri y upanguaima, ... y unos y otros casi hablan un mismo idioma”).122 The author of “Rudo Ensayo” wrote: “The Guaimas speak the same language, with but little difference, as the Seris.”123 He mistook Cerro Prieto as their principal retreat; mentioned the mountains of Bacoatzi Grande, Las Espuelas, and others as other haunts; noted Tiburon and San Juan Bautista (San Esteban?) islands as less-known shelters, and gave extended attention to “the poison they use for their arrows” as “the most virulent known in these parts”; for “even in cases where the skin only is wounded, the injured part begins to swell, and the swelling extends all over the body to such a size that the flesh bursts and falls to pieces, causing death in twenty-four hours.” To test this poison, the Seri “bandage tightly the thigh or arm of one of their robust young men; then make an incision with a flint and let the blood flow away from the wound. When the blood is some distance from the incision, they apply the point of an arrow to it, steeped in the deadly poison. If at the approach of the point of the arrow the blood begins to boil and recedes, the poison is of the right strength, and the man who lends his blood for the experiment brushes it out with his hand to prevent the poison from being introduced into his veins.” He was unable “to find out with certainty of what deadly materials the deadly poison is composed. Many a thing is spoken of, such as heads of irritated vipers cut at the very moment of biting into a piece of lung; also half putrefied human flesh and other filth with which I am unwilling to provoke the nausea of the reader.” He added the opinion that “the main ingredient is some root.”124 Padre Joseph Och, who, with other German evangels including padres Mittendorf, Pfefferkorn, and Ruen (or Rohen), was stationed in northwestern Sonora shortly before the eviction of the Jesuits, was one of the recorders of aboriginal traits and features, though his record (like that of most of his confrères) is impoverished by his failure to discriminate tribes; but one of his notes is specific:

Villa-Señor identified the “Tepocas,” which he grouped with the “Gueimas” and “Jupangueimas.” Alegre placed the Seri on the coast of the gulf, stretching from a few leagues north of the mouth of the Rio Yaqui to Bahia San Juan de Bautista (Bahia Kino). He added, "the Guaimas, though few in number, belong to the same language." Around the same time, José Gallardo noted, “There’s only a slight difference between the Seri and Upanguaima; both speak nearly the same language.” The author of “Rudo Ensayo” wrote: “The Guaimas speak the same language as the Seris, with only minor differences.” He mistakenly identified Cerro Prieto as their main refuge and mentioned the mountains of Bacoatzi Grande, Las Espuelas, and others as additional places they frequented. He also pointed out Tiburon and San Juan Bautista (San Esteban?) islands as lesser-known shelters and devoted much attention to “the poison they use for their arrows,” describing it as “the most potent known in these parts”; noting that “even if just the skin is wounded, the affected area begins to swell, and the swelling spreads throughout the body, causing the flesh to burst apart and leading to death within twenty-four hours.” To test this poison, the Seri “tighten a bandage around the thigh or arm of one of their strong young men; then they make a cut with a flint and allow the blood to drain from the wound. When the blood is a distance away from the cut, they apply the tip of an arrow coated in the deadly poison to it. If the blood starts to boil and pulls away from the arrow, the poison is deemed to be the right strength, and the man providing his blood brushes it aside with his hand to prevent the poison from entering his veins.” He could not determine “exactly what lethal materials make up the poison. There’s talk of various things, such as the heads of agitated vipers cut right after biting into lung tissue; also half-rotten human flesh and other disgusting substances that I don’t want to mention to avoid making the reader nauseous.” He suggested that “the main ingredient is some kind of root.” Padre Joseph Och, who, along with other German missionaries including padres Mittendorf, Pfefferkorn, and Ruen (or Rohen), served in northwestern Sonora just before the Jesuits were expelled, recorded various native traits and features, although his records (like those of most of his peers) lack specificity in distinguishing different tribes. However, one of his notes is particular:

As an extraordinary trapping [Zierde] the Seris pierce the nasal septum and hang small colored stones, which swing in front of the mouth, thereto by strings. A few carry, suspended from the nose, little blue-green pebbles, in which they repose great faith. They prize these very highly, and one must give them at least a horse or a cow in exchange for one.125

As a unique decoration, the Seris pierce their nasal septum and hang small colored stones that swing in front of their mouths on strings. Some wear tiny blue-green pebbles hanging from their noses, which they believe are very valuable. They cherish these stones greatly, and you must offer at least a horse or a cow in exchange for one.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

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It is significant fact, and one attesting the physical and intellectual distance of the padres from the normal Seri, that so few notes of ethnologic value were made during the Jesuits’ régime. With a single exception, so far as is known,126 they recorded not a word of the Seri tongue, not a distinctive custom beyond those evidently of common knowledge, none of the primitive ceremonies and ideas such as attracted their coadjutors in Canada and elsewhere. They made no reference to the alleged cannibalism so conspicuous in later lore; but their silence on this point cannot be regarded as evidential, since they were equally silent concerning nearly all the characteristic customs and traits. The neighboring Papago tribe met the invaders frankly as man to man, displaying a notable combination of receptivity and self-containment which enabled them to assimilate just so much of the Caucasian culture as they deemed desirable, yet to maintain their purity of blood and distinctiveness of culture for centuries; the Seri, on the other hand, met the invaders as enemies, to be first feared, then blinded, balked, and bled by surreptitious and sinister devices, and finally to be assassinated through ambuscade or remorseless treachery; and it is manifest that they surpassed the gentle padres in shrewdness and strategy, using them as playthings and tools, and carefully concealing their own characters and motives the while.

It’s an important fact that highlights the physical and intellectual gap between the padres and the typical Seri people that so few notes of ethnological value were written during the Jesuits’ time. With one exception, as far as we know, 126 they didn’t record a single word of the Seri language, nor did they note any unique customs beyond those that were obviously common knowledge, or any of the primitive ceremonies and ideas that interested their colleagues in Canada and elsewhere. They made no mention of the supposed cannibalism that became notable in later stories; however, their silence on this topic isn’t conclusive since they were equally quiet about almost all characteristic customs and traits. The nearby Papago tribe confronted the invaders openly, demonstrating a remarkable mix of openness and self-restraint that allowed them to adopt just enough of Caucasian culture that they found beneficial while maintaining their ethnic purity and cultural distinctiveness for centuries; the Seri, on the other hand, viewed the invaders as foes, to be first feared, then deceived and thwarted through secretive and malicious tactics, and ultimately to be killed by ambush or ruthless betrayal. Clearly, they outsmarted the gentle padres in cunning and strategy, using them as tools and playthings while carefully hiding their true natures and intentions.


With the passing of the Jesuits, the publication of Sonoran records received a check from which the province has never completely recovered. True, the place of the order was partly taken by the Colegio Apostólico de Querétaro, which promptly dispatched fourteen Franciscan friars to Sonora, early in 1768, to take possession of the old missions and to found others;127 it is also true that civil enactments and commissions, as well as military orders and reports, increased with the growth of population; but comparatively few of the events and actions found their way to the press. Seri episodes continued to recur with irregular frequency; according to Dávila, the Seri outbreaks and wars “exceed fifty in number since the conquest of Sonora”,128 and there are decisive indications that the Franciscan régime was not without its due quota of strife. Moreover, the period was one of somewhat exceptionally vigorous pioneering, of the initiation of mining and agriculture, and of conquest over the “despoblado” formerly ranged and inhabited by the Seri. It was during this period that the Seri were permanently dislodged from their outlying haunts and watering-places in Cerro Prieto; and it was during this period, too, that exploration and settlement were extended to Rio Bacuache with such energy as to displace the Seri from their other outlying refuge in the barrancas of this stream. But, as the events and lines of progress multiplied, the burden for the contemporary chronicler 80 augmented without corresponding increase in incentive to writing, and it is little wonder that the custom of writing, copying, manifolding, and printing the contemporary records fell into desuetude.

With the Jesuits gone, the publication of Sonoran records was impacted in a way the province never fully recovered from. True, the Colegio Apostólico de Querétaro took some of the order's place, sending fourteen Franciscan friars to Sonora in early 1768 to take over the old missions and establish new ones;127 but it’s also true that civil laws and commissions, along with military orders and reports, increased as the population grew. However, relatively few events and actions were published. Seri incidents continued to happen with inconsistent frequency; according to Dávila, the Seri uprisings and wars “exceed fifty in number since the conquest of Sonora”,128 and there are strong signs that the Franciscan regime wasn’t without its share of conflict. Furthermore, this was a period of particularly vigorous pioneering, marked by the start of mining and agriculture and the conquest of the “despoblado” that the Seri had once roamed and inhabited. During this time, the Seri were permanently pushed out from their remote habitats and water sources in Cerro Prieto; it was also during this period that exploration and settlement extended to Rio Bacuache with such determination that the Seri were displaced from their other remote refuge in the ravines of this stream. But as events and progress multiplied, the workload for contemporary chroniclers increased without a corresponding rise in motivation to write. It’s not surprising that the practice of recording, copying, compiling, and printing contemporary records fell into decline.

Despite the meagerness of the Franciscan chronicles, the friars of this order are to be credited with making and recording one of the most noteworthy essays toward the subjugation of the Seri—an essay involving the first and last actual attempt to found a Caucasian establishment within Seriland proper. The ecclesiastical corps, sent out from Querétaro college under the presidency of Fray Mariano Antonio de Buena y Alcalde, reached Sonora early in 1768, and were distributed among the missions to which they were respectively assigned before the end of June; and Fray Mariano participated in the efforts to subdue the Seri ensconced in Cerro Prieto. After some months of apparently nominal siege, the hostiles straggled out of their retreat, whereupon “the governor, seeing them assembled and peaceful, besought the friar to instruct and baptize them”;129 the friar promptly acquiesced, with the provision that he should be furnished with the requisite appurtenances of a mission, including not only a church and sacred ornaments, but a house and living for a resident minister. The requirements delayed procedure, but resulted in the appointment of Fray Juan Crisóstomo Gil de Bernabe (already designated by the Querétaro college as Fray Mariano’s successor) to take charge of the Seri mission. “The new president, desiring to gratify his proper zeal and the insistence of the governor as to the need of those miserable Indians for the bread of doctrinism”, obtained candles and wine from private benefactors, and, despite his inability to find even a hut for shelter, established a sanctuary in the Rancheria de los Seris (Pueblo Seri) on November 17, 1772:

Despite the scarcity of the Franciscan chronicles, the friars of this order should be credited for creating and recording one of the most significant attempts to subdue the Seri—an effort that marked the first and last actual attempt to establish a Caucasian settlement within Seriland itself. The ecclesiastical group, dispatched from Querétaro college under the leadership of Fray Mariano Antonio de Buena y Alcalde, arrived in Sonora early in 1768 and were assigned to various missions by the end of June; Fray Mariano took part in the efforts to conquer the Seri hidden in Cerro Prieto. After several months of what seemed like a nominal siege, the hostile group emerged from their hideout, at which point “the governor, seeing them gathered and peaceful, asked the friar to instruct and baptize them”;129 the friar quickly agreed, with the condition that he be provided with the necessary supplies for a mission, including not just a church and sacred items, but also a house and provisions for a resident minister. These requirements delayed the process but led to the appointment of Fray Juan Crisóstomo Gil de Bernabe (already named by the Querétaro college as Fray Mariano’s successor) to oversee the Seri mission. “The new president, wishing to satisfy his proper zeal and the governor’s insistence regarding the need for those unfortunate Indians to receive the teachings of the faith”, secured candles and wine from private donors and, despite his inability to find even a hut for shelter, established a sanctuary in the Rancheria de los Seris (Pueblo Seri) on November 17, 1772:

It was impossible to satisfy the ambition of the missionaries to catechize all the Indians, because, although the whole nation was peaceable, no small portion of them were devoid of desire to hear doctrinism, as many of them had withdrawn to their ancient lurking haunts, principally on Isla Tiburon, whence they came to the Presidio Horcasitas, making false displays to the governor of great fidelity and obedience, petitioning that they should not be taken from the island, but should be given a minister to baptize them the same as those at Pitic; and they did not wish to join those nor to leave the rocky fastness of their libertinage and asylum of their crimes.... To conceal their purposes, they petitioned that a town for them should be established on the opposite coast, where they might assemble on leaving the island. Their request was embarrassing because on examination of the coast there was found only a single scanty spring in a carrizal in a playa-like country [toda la tierra como de playa], with little fuel and no timber.

It was impossible to achieve the missionaries' goal of teaching all the Indigenous people about Christianity because, while the nation as a whole was peaceful, many were not interested in hearing religious teachings. A significant number had retreated to their ancient hiding places, mostly on Isla Tiburon, from where they would come to Presidio Horcasitas, pretending to be loyal and compliant with the governor. They requested not to be removed from the island and asked for a minister to baptize them like those in Pitic; they did not want to join others or leave their rocky refuge, which served as both a hiding place for their misdeeds and a place to live freely. To conceal their intentions, they requested that a town be established on the opposite coast, where they could gather after leaving the island. This request was problematic because an assessment of the coast showed only one small spring in a reed-filled area, with hardly any available fuel and no timber.

Not unnaturally Fray Crisóstomo hesitated to locate a mission on the practically uninhabitable site, in which, moreover, “the mission would be of no utility because the Indians did not really wish to leave their island and submit to religious instruction, nor could the coast supply the necessary food, as it was a barren sand-waste, so that it would become 81 necessary for the King to constantly supply provisions, else the converts would have a pretext for wandering around and avoiding attention to the catechism.” But the governor was obdurate, and only complained to the viceroy and the Querétaro college. Between fires, Fray Crisóstomo yielded, and on November 26, 1772, proceeded to Carrizal and established himself as a minister, without company or escort save a little boy to serve as acolyte. “With the aid of the Indios Tiburones the friar erected a jacal [or hut bower]130 to serve as a church, and a tiny hut as a habitation, and began immediately, with the greatest kindness, to convoke the people for religious instruction, only to see that the desires they had expressed to the governor to become Christians were not deep enough to bring them from their island to attend services—except a few who came and took part in the prayers when they thought fit. But as the congregation at the place was only nominal, and with only three jacales under control, so also was the instruction they sought; and because of both the condition of the land and their wandering instinct, which is in them almost a necessity and more excusable than in other Indians, because neither within their island nor on the coast is the territory fit for cultivation, and still less for the stability essential to civil and political life”, the missionary naturally despaired of substantial progress; indeed, “the only fruit for which he could hope, under his mode of living, was reduced either to a child or an adult whom he could, in special circumstances, shrive in extremis.” In this disheartening condition the friar spent the winter from near the end of November to March 6, 1773. Then, as appears from an official declaration, there came to him by night an Indian called Yxquisis, with a trumpery tale about a revolt on the part of the Piato and Apache, which led the guileless friar away from the poor shelter of his jacal under the guidance of the Indian. At the inquest Yxquisis confessed, although with many falsehoods (“con muchas mentiras”), that he had stoned the friar, but “without stating any motive for committing such an atrocious crime”. Yet even before the story reached Horcasitas two “Indios del Tiburon”, supposed to be implicated, were beaten to death with sticks on the spot in which the friar’s body was found,131 and the body was buried by a chief of the tribe. And so ended the mission of Carrizal in the land of the Seri.

Not surprisingly, Fray Crisóstomo hesitated to set up a mission in a location that was nearly uninhabitable, especially since “the mission wouldn’t be useful because the Indians didn’t really want to leave their island and submit to religious teachings, nor could the coast provide the necessary food, as it was a barren wasteland. This meant that the King would have to constantly send supplies, or else the converts would have an excuse to wander off and avoid paying attention to the catechism.” But the governor was stubborn and only complained to the viceroy and the Querétaro college. Under pressure, Fray Crisóstomo agreed, and on November 26, 1772, he went to Carrizal and established himself as a minister, with no one accompanying him except for a little boy to assist him. “With the help of the Indios Tiburones, the friar built a hut to serve as a church and a small hut for himself, and immediately began, with great kindness, to gather the people for religious instruction, only to find that their stated desire to become Christians wasn’t strong enough to get them to leave their island for services—except for a few who showed up when they felt like participating in prayers. However, with only a nominal congregation and just three huts to work with, the level of instruction was similarly minimal; and because of the poor condition of the land and their nomadic instincts, which were almost a necessity for them and more understandable than for other Indians—since neither their island nor the coast had any viable land for farming, and even less for the stability that civil and political life needed—the missionary naturally despaired of making real progress; indeed, “the only outcome he could hope for, given his living situation, was either a child or an adult whom he could, under special circumstances, offer last rites.” In this discouraging situation, the friar spent the winter from late November to March 6, 1773. Then, as noted in an official statement, an Indian named Yxquisis came to him at night with a ridiculous story about a revolt involving the Piato and Apache, which led the unsuspecting friar away from the meager shelter of his hut under Yxquisis’s guidance. During the investigation, Yxquisis admitted, although with many lies, that he had stoned the friar, but “didn’t mention any reason for committing such a terrible crime.” Yet even before the story got to Horcasitas, two “Indios del Tiburon,” thought to be involved, were beaten to death with sticks right where the friar’s body was found, and the body was buried by a chief of the tribe. Thus ended the mission of Carrizal in the land of the Seri.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VI.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VI.

RECENTLY OCCUPIED RANCHERIA, TIBURON ISLAND

Recently occupied ranch, Tiburon Island

TYPICAL HOUSE INTERIOR, TIBURON ISLAND

Typical House Interior, Tiburon Island

Traditions of this Franciscan mission still linger about Hermosillo and at Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, and they, like Arricivita’s account, indicate that the churchly jacal was planted either hard by Pozo Escalante or at a traditional Ojito Carrizal (Aguaje Parilla, not found in the surveys of 1895), supposed to lie a few miles farther northwestward. All the probabilities point to Pozo Escalante as the site, despite the fact that no cane now grows there; the topographic description applies exactly, while the state of the padre’s remains, 82 when exhumed six months later, attests the dry and saline soil in this vicinity. None of these conditions exist about Aguaje Parilla at the southeastern base of Sierra Seri. The present absence of living carrizal at Pozo Escalante is of little significance, since the extinction of the plant might easily have been wrought either by the stock of later expeditions or by the rise of the salt-water horizon accompanying the local subsidence of the land; certainly dried roots and much-weathered fragments of cane still remain about the margin of the playa extending southward from the well.

Traditions from this Franciscan mission still exist around Hermosillo and at Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, and they, like Arricivita's account, suggest that the church jacal was either located near Pozo Escalante or at a traditional Ojito Carrizal (Aguaje Parilla, not found in the surveys of 1895), which was believed to be a few miles further northwest. All evidence points to Pozo Escalante as the site, even though no cane grows there now; the topographic description fits perfectly, and the condition of the padre’s remains, exhumed six months later, confirms the dry and salty soil in this area. None of these conditions are present at Aguaje Parilla, located at the southeastern base of Sierra Seri. The current lack of living carrizal at Pozo Escalante is not very important, as the disappearance of the plant could easily have been caused by later expeditions' livestock or by the rise of the saltwater level due to the local land subsiding; certainly, dried roots and weathered cane fragments can still be found around the edge of the playa extending southward from the well.

The episode culminating in the assassination of Fray Crisóstomo was characteristic: beset at all points and rankling under the invasion of their range, the Seri sought anew to delude the governor with fair words, using their own reprobates and apostates at Pitic and elsewhere to point their asseverations; and remembering the facility with which the earlier ecclesiastics were duped into unwitting allies, they made the kindly and long-suffering friars the immediate object of their petitions. But some of the tribe galled under the lengthy and still lengthening blood-feud too deeply to tolerate the alien presence; and one of these, either alone or supported by the alleged accomplices or others, tried a typical ruse, suggested less by need than inherited habit; for the friar was helpless in their hands, and might have been slain in his jacal as easily as in the open. Typically, too, the assassination initiated or deepened factional dissension and further bloodshed.

The episode that led to the assassination of Fray Crisóstomo was typical: surrounded on all sides and troubled by the intrusion into their territory, the Seri tried once again to deceive the governor with flattering words, using their own outcasts and turncoats from Pitic and other places to back their claims; recalling how easily earlier church officials had been tricked into becoming unwitting allies, they made the kind and patient friars the main focus of their requests. However, some members of the tribe were too wounded by the ongoing and escalating blood feud to accept the unwanted presence; one of them, either alone or backed by supposed accomplices or others, attempted a classic trick, done more out of habit than necessity; for the friar was powerless in their grasp and could have been killed in his hut just as easily as out in the open. Typically, the assassination sparked or intensified factional conflicts and more bloodshed.

The Franciscan records are of even less ethnologic use than those of the Jesuits. Beyond his incidental expressions concerning Seri character and custom in connection with the founding and abandonment of Carrizal, it need only be noted that Arricivita makes hardly a reference to the Tepoka, but habitually combines the “Seris y Piatos”—the latter perhaps representing the “confederate Pima” of “Rudo Ensayo”, or the Soba occupying the lower reaches of Rio San Ignacio about that time.

The Franciscan records are even less useful for understanding ethnic groups than those of the Jesuits. Besides his occasional comments on Seri character and customs related to the founding and abandonment of Carrizal, it's worth noting that Arricivita barely mentions the Tepoka, instead frequently grouping the “Seris y Piatos”—the latter possibly referring to the “confederate Pima” mentioned in “Rudo Ensayo”, or the Soba living in the lower parts of the Rio San Ignacio around that time.

Among the meager and scattered Franciscan records is a letter from Fray Francisco Troncoso, dated September 18, 1824, which is of note as containing an estimate of the Seri population at the time:

Among the sparse and scattered Franciscan records is a letter from Fray Francisco Troncoso, dated September 18, 1824, that is significant for including an estimate of the Seri population at that time:

This island [Tiburon] has more than a thousand savage inhabitants, enemies of those of California, and it has frequently occurred that, on balsas of reeds, ... they have crossed over to invade the mission [of Loreto], killing and robbing some of those they found there.132

This island [Tiburon] is home to more than a thousand fierce residents who are hostile towards those in California. It has frequently occurred that they crossed over on reed rafts to launch attacks on the mission [of Loreto], killing and robbing some of the people they encountered there.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The record is of value also as indicating that the Seri traversed the gulf freely, and raided settlements and tribes of the peninsula ruthlessly as those of the mainland.

The record is also important because it shows that the Seri crossed the gulf without hesitation and attacked settlements and tribes on the peninsula just as mercilessly as they did on the mainland.


The Carrizal episode was followed by a half century of comparative silence concerning the Seri, though various contemporary records and later compilations indicate customary continuance of the Seri wars. 83 Among the more useful compilations is that of Velasco; and among the more important episodes noted by him was the Cimarrones-Migueletes war of 1780.133 The Cimarrones included the greater part of the Seri of Tiburon and the Tepoka (then estimated at 2,000 of both sexes),134 together with the “Pimas called Piatos, of the pueblos of Cavorca, Tubutama, Oquitoa, etc.”, and supposedly certain other representatives of the Pima and Apache, who had shortly before marauded Magdalena and sacked Saric, killing a dozen persons;135 the Migueletes were national troops assigned to Sonora under the command of Colonel Domingo Elizondo. The forces met in several bloody battles in Cerro Prieto, at Jupanguaimas, and at Presidio Viejo; and the former, or at any rate the Seri, were once more “annihilated” (“reducidos a nulidad”). Nevertheless, the hydra-headed tribe retained enough vitality in 1807 to induce Governor Alejo Garcia Conde to send an army of a thousand men to Guaymas, en route to Tiburon, to repeat the extirpation—though the expedition came to naught for international reasons.

The Carrizal episode was followed by fifty years of relative quiet about the Seri, though various contemporary accounts and later summaries indicate that the Seri wars continued as usual. 83 Among the more helpful summaries is that of Velasco, and one of the significant events he noted was the Cimarrones-Migueletes war of 1780.133 The Cimarrones included most of the Seri from Tiburon and the Tepoka (then estimated at 2,000 individuals of both genders),134 along with the “Pimas called Piatos from the towns of Cavorca, Tubutama, Oquitoa, etc.,” and supposedly some other representatives of the Pima and Apache, who had recently raided Magdalena and looted Saric, killing a dozen people;135 the Migueletes were national troops assigned to Sonora under the command of Colonel Domingo Elizondo. The two forces clashed in several bloody battles at Cerro Prieto, Jupanguaimas, and Presidio Viejo; in the former, or at least the Seri, were once again “annihilated” (“reducidos a nulidad”). Despite this, the resilient tribe still had enough strength in 1807 to prompt Governor Alejo Garcia Conde to send an army of a thousand men to Guaymas, heading to Tiburon, to carry out another extermination attempt—though this expedition ultimately failed due to international reasons.

Among the more useful contemporary records is an unpublished manuscript report by Don José Cortez, dated 1799, found in the Force library, translated by Buckingham Smith, and abstracted by Lieutenant A. W. Whipple for the Report of the Pacific Railway Survey. A subsection of this report is devoted to “the Seris, Tiburones, and Tepocas”. It runs:

Among the more useful modern records is an unpublished manuscript report by Don José Cortez, dated 1799, located in the Force library, translated by Buckingham Smith, and summarized by Lieutenant A. W. Whipple for the Report of the Pacific Railway Survey. A section of this report focuses on “the Seris, Tiburones, and Tepocas.” It states:

The Seri Indians live towards the coast of Sonora, on the famous Cerro Prieto, and in its immediate neighborhood. They are cruel and sanguinary, and at one time formed a numerous band, which committed many excesses in that rich province. With their poisoned shafts they took the lives of many thousand inhabitants, and rendered unavailing the expedition that was set on foot against them from Mexico. At this time they are reduced to a small number; have, on many occasions, been successfully encountered by our troops; and are kept within bounds by the vigilance of the three posts (presidios) established for the purpose. None of their customs approach, at all, to those of civilization; and their notions of religion and marriage exist under barbarous forms, such as have before been described in treating of the most savage nations. The Tiburon and Tepoca Indians are a more numerous tribe, and worthy of greater consideration than the Seris, but their bloodthirsty disposition and their customs are the same. They ordinarily live on the island of Tiburon, which is connected with the coast of Sonora by a narrow inundated isthmus, over which they pass by swimming when the tide is up, and when it is down, by wading, as the water then only reaches to the waist, or not so high. They come onto the continent, over which they make their incursions, and, after the commission of robberies, they return to the island; on which account no punishment usually follows their temerity. It is now twenty-three or twenty-four years since the plan was approved by His Majesty, and ordered to be carried out, of destroying them on their island; but, until the present season, no movement has been made to 84 put it into execution. To this end the troops of Sonora are being equipped; a corvette of the department of San Blas aids in the expedition and two or three vessels of troops from the companies stationed at the port of that name on the South sea.136

The Seri Indians live along the coast of Sonora, close to the famous Cerro Prieto. They are known for being fierce and violent, and at one time, they formed a large group that committed many atrocities in that wealthy region. With their poisoned arrows, they killed thousands and thwarted the expedition sent from Mexico against them. Now, their numbers have decreased; our troops have successfully encountered them several times, and they are kept in check by three posts (presidios) established for that purpose. Their customs seem far from civilized, and their beliefs about religion and marriage are primitive, similar to those seen among the most savage nations. The Tiburon and Tepoca Indians are a larger tribe and deserve more attention than the Seris, but they share the same bloodthirsty temperament and customs. They usually inhabit Tiburon Island, which is connected to the Sonora coast by a narrow flooded isthmus. They swim across when the tide is high and wade across when it’s low, as the water then only reaches their waists or even less. They venture onto the mainland to steal and then return to the island, which is why they often escape punishment for their boldness. It has been about twenty-three or twenty-four years since His Majesty approved a plan to eliminate them on their island, but to date, no action has been taken to implement it. Troops from Sonora are being prepared for this mission, and a corvette from the San Blas department is supporting the expedition, along with two or three troop ships from the companies stationed at that port on the South Sea. 84

The record is significant as voicing an ill-founded discrimination of the wandering Seri from the inhabitants of Tiburon, as echoing persistent conception of Tiburon as a peninsula, and as summarizing the characteristics of the tribe recognized at the end of the last century.

The record is important for highlighting the unjust discrimination against the wandering Seri by the people of Tiburon, for reflecting the ongoing view of Tiburon as a peninsula, and for outlining the traits of the tribe that were acknowledged at the end of the last century.


Meantime population and industries increased, while civil and military development pursued its course; the Presidio of Pitic expanded into a pueblo, and later into the city which gradually adopted the cognomen of General José Maria Gonzalez Hermosillo, a hero of Sonora in the stirring times of 1810-1812; Pueblo Seri became Mexicanized, retaining only a few Seri families in 1811, according to Manuel Cabrera;137 Guaymas grew into a port of some commercial note; pearl fishing progressed along the coast and prospecting in the interior; despite constant harrying by Seri raids, the rancho of Bacuachito (probably the Bacoachizo of Escudero138) became a flourishing pueblo; and plans for ports in the northern gulf were broached and even tested. Moreover, the dawn of the nineteenth century stirred scientific interest in the native tribes, including the obstinate owners of Tiburon—an interest stimulated by Humboldt’s American journeys of 1803.

In the meantime, the population and industries grew, while civil and military development continued its course. The Presidio of Pitic developed into a town and later into the city that eventually took on the name of General José Maria Gonzalez Hermosillo, a hero of Sonora during the dramatic periods of 1810-1812. Pueblo Seri became more Mexicanized, with only a few Seri families remaining by 1811, according to Manuel Cabrera;137 Guaymas evolved into a commercially notable port; pearl fishing flourished along the coast, along with prospecting in the interior. Despite ongoing attacks from Seri raids, the rancho of Bacuachito (likely the Bacoachizo of Escudero138) thrived as a town. Additionally, ideas for ports in the northern gulf were discussed and even tested. Moreover, the start of the nineteenth century sparked scientific interest in the native tribes, including the tenacious owners of Tiburon—an interest fueled by Humboldt’s travels in America in 1803.

Combining earlier cartography (originating with Kino) and persistent tradition up to the beginning of the nineteenth century, Humboldt mapped “Isla de Tiburon” nearly a degree too far northward, and separated from the mainland by a greatly exaggerated strait. The land portion of the map is strikingly defective, revealing in numerous imaginary mesas the author’s penchant for Mexican plateaus, while “Rio Hiaqui” (“de Yaqui ou de Sonora” in the text) is combined with Rio Sonora and given an intermediate position, and “Rio de la Ascencion” (Rio San Ignacio) is represented as passing through an estuary into the gulf just off the northern end of Tiburon; the “Indiens Seris” being located on a figmentary mesa north of the latter river and due west of Caborca, Pitic (apparently a composite of San Diego de Pitic, or modern Pitiquito, with San Pedro de Pitic, or modern Hermosillo), and Altar.139 His text corresponds:

Combining earlier maps (starting with Kino) and ongoing traditions up to the early nineteenth century, Humboldt plotted “Isla de Tiburon” almost a full degree too far north and made the strait separating it from the mainland much larger than it actually is. The land portion of the map is notably flawed, featuring several fictional mesas that reflect the author's interest in Mexican plateaus. “Rio Hiaqui” (“de Yaqui ou de Sonora” in the text) is merged with Rio Sonora and placed in an intermediate position, while “Rio de la Ascencion” (Rio San Ignacio) is shown flowing through an estuary into the gulf just off the northern end of Tiburon. The “Indiens Seris” are placed on an imaginary mesa north of that river and directly west of Caborca, Pitic (which seems to combine San Diego de Pitic, or modern Pitiquito, with San Pedro de Pitic, or modern Hermosillo), and Altar.139 His text corresponds:

On the right bank of Rio de la Asencion live some very bellicose Indians, the Seris, to whom many Mexican savants ascribe an Asiatic origin by reason of the analogy offered by their name with that of the Seri located by the ancient geographers at the base of the Ottorocorras mountains.140

On the right bank of the Rio de la Asencion, there are some very aggressive Indigenous people, the Seris, whom many Mexican experts think have Asian roots because their name is similar to that of the Seri mentioned by ancient geographers at the base of the Ottorocorras mountains.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

85

85

Naturally most of the scientific inquiries of the time were, like those of Humboldt, based on tradition rather than on direct observation.

Naturally, most scientific investigations at the time were, like those of Humboldt, grounded in tradition rather than in direct observation.


Toward the end of the first third of the century an important contribution to actual knowledge of Seriland and the Seri at last grew out of the pearl industry. In May, 1825, Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R. N., was commissioned by the “General Pearl and Coral Fishery Association of London” to investigate the pearl fisheries of the Californian gulf; and his task was performed with promptness and energy. On February 13, 1826, he visited Pitic (under Hermosillo):

Toward the end of the first third of the century, significant knowledge about Seriland and the Seri finally came from the pearl industry. In May 1825, Lieutenant R. W. H. Hardy, R.N., was assigned by the “General Pearl and Coral Fishery Association of London” to explore the pearl fisheries of the Californian Gulf, and he carried out his task quickly and energetically. On February 13, 1826, he visited Pitic (near Hermosillo):

Half a league short [south] of it is another small place, called the Pueblo de los Céres, inhabited by a squalid race of Indians who are said to indulge in constant habits of intemperance and to have lost the fire of the warrior. In its stead they manifest the sullen stupidity peculiar to those who, feeling themselves unfitted for companionship, strive to vent their pusillanimous rage upon objects the most helpless and unoffending, such as women, children, and dogs, who appear to be the chief victims of their revenge.141

Half a league south of there is another small settlement called the Pueblo de los Céres, home to a poor group of Native Americans who are said to be frequently drunk and have lost their warrior spirit. Instead, they show a dull kind of ignorance typical of those who, feeling unfit for companionship, lash out in their cowardly anger at the most vulnerable and innocent, like women, children, and dogs, who seem to be their main targets of rage.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

His chief object in visiting Pitic was to obtain information concerning Tiburon, its natives, and its pearl-oyster beds; and he was rewarded with characteristic accounts of the ferocity of the tribesmen and their use of poisoned arrows, which he received with some incredulity.142

His main reason for visiting Pitic was to get information about Tiburon, its people, and its pearl-oyster beds; and he was met with typical stories about the fierceness of the tribesmen and their use of poisoned arrows, which he listened to with some disbelief.142

After examining the principal pearl fisheries of the western coast, Lieutenant Hardy reached the “Sal si Puedes” in the throat of the gulf, and, on August 9, “got aslant of wind, which carried us up to the northwest end of Tiburow island”143—i. e., apparently over the precise route sailed by Padre Ugarte in 1721. Anchoring on the island, he had the good fortune first to meet a native able to speak Spanish, and later to successfully treat the sick wife of the principal chief, after which he was treated with great consideration, and—unwittingly on his part—adopted into the tribe as a member of the chief clan by the ceremony of face painting, the symbol being that of the turtle totem, to judge from the superficial description. Taking slightly brackish water, just as Ugarte had done one hundred and five years before, and arming his crew, he spent the night near the rancheria (evidently in Bahia Agua Dulce). Next morning he “traveled over the greater part of the island” (!) in fruitless search for pearls and gold, and in the afternoon “got under weigh, and stood into a bay of the continent to the northeast of the island,” discovering and naming “Sargent’s Point”, together with “Cockle Harbour”, and “Bruja’s bay” in the lee of the point, and also “Arnold’s Island”; this island being apparently the present prominent cusp of Punta Sargent, now connected with the mainland by a continuous wave-built bar rising a little way above reach of tide. Anchoring in the bay named from his vessel (La Bruja), he examined the adjacent shore, ascertaining that “there is no fresh water near the spot, except 86 during the rainy season, which only lasts about a month or six weeks”, nor “any vestige of Indians to be seen except a solitary hut erected by the Tiburons to serve them when they go there to fish”; and, noting the report that Padre Kino had visited this point, he quite appositely questioned the truth of the tradition, partly on the ground of the absence of fresh water, partly because “the Tepoca Indian establishment” mentioned in the tradition “is many leagues farther to the northward.” Awakened by an approaching storm, he was under way next morning at daylight, and, getting out of the “bad holding ground”, was caught by a gale and carried back to his “old anchorage in Freshwater Bay”, where he found the Indians rejoicing over the success of a ceremonial incantation to which they ascribed his return. The reconnaissance map is ill-drawn, locating “Fresh Water B.” on the mainland side and apparently combining “Sargent’s Point” and “Arnold’s Island” as “Sargents I.”; “San Miguel Pt.” is properly located, and idealized route lines traverse the “Canal peligroso de San Miguel” (El Infiernillo), which is of greatly exaggerated width. The careful itinerary shows, however, that Hardy scarcely entered this strait, and made but three or four anchorages in the vicinity—i. e., in Bahia Agua Dulce, in Bahia Bruja, probably in Cockle harbor (or “Cochla Inlet”), and finally off Isla Patos.

After checking out the main pearl fisheries along the western coast, Lieutenant Hardy reached the "Sal si Puedes" at the entrance of the gulf. On August 9, he caught a favorable wind that took him to the northwest end of Tiburow Island—essentially following the exact route taken by Padre Ugarte back in 1721. Once he anchored at the island, he was lucky to first meet a native who spoke Spanish, and later, he managed to treat the sick wife of the chief. After this, he was treated with great respect and, unknowingly, was adopted into the tribe’s chief clan through a face painting ceremony, with the turtle totem as the symbol, from his basic understanding. Like Ugarte did 105 years earlier, he took slightly salty water and, after arming his crew, spent the night near the rancheria (likely in Bahia Agua Dulce). The next morning, he "traveled over most of the island" in a pointless search for pearls and gold. In the afternoon, he “set sail and headed into a bay on the continent northeast of the island,” discovering and naming “Sargent’s Point,” as well as “Cockle Harbour” and “Bruja's Bay” sheltered by the point, plus “Arnold’s Island.” This island seems to be the current noticeable point of Punta Sargent, now linked to the mainland by a continuous sandbar that rises slightly above the tide level. Anchoring in the bay named after his ship (La Bruja), he checked the nearby shore and confirmed that "there's no fresh water nearby, except during the rainy season, which only lasts about a month or six weeks," nor “any sign of Indians other than a lone hut built by the Tiburons for when they come to fish.” He noted that Padre Kino had reportedly visited this spot and reasonably questioned the validity of that claim, partially because there was no fresh water and partly because “the Tepoca Indian establishment” mentioned in the story “is many leagues farther north.” Woken by an approaching storm, he set sail the next morning at dawn, escaping the “bad holding ground,” but was hit by a gale that sent him back to his “old anchorage in Freshwater Bay,” where he found the Indians celebrating the success of a ceremonial chant they believed brought him back. The reconnaissance map is poorly drawn, showing “Fresh Water B.” on the mainland side and seemingly merging “Sargent’s Point” and “Arnold’s Island” into “Sargents I.” “San Miguel Pt.” is correctly located, and suggested route lines cross the “Canal peligroso de San Miguel” (El Infiernillo), which is shown to be much wider than it actually is. However, the detailed itinerary reveals that Hardy hardly entered this strait and only made three or four anchorages nearby—in Bahia Agua Dulce, in Bahia Bruja, probably in Cockle Harbour (or “Cochla Inlet”), and finally off Isla Patos.

Hardy’s notes on the Indians are first hand, and hence of exceptional value. He says:

Hardy’s notes on the Indians are firsthand, making them exceptionally valuable. He says:

The Indians on the island of Tiburon are very stout, tall, and well-built fellows, exceedingly like the Twelchii tribe of Indians in Patagonia, and with a language so like theirs that I imagined I was transported back into those wild regions. They by no means look so ferocious as they are represented, and there is something peculiarly mild in the countenances of the females. Their dress is a sort of blanket, extending from the hips to the knees. But most of the old women have this part of the body covered with the skins of the eagle, having the feathers turned towards the flesh. The upper part of the body is entirely exposed, and their hair is dressed on the top of the head in a knot which greatly sets off the effect of their painted faces. The men use bows and stone-pointed arrows; but whether they are poisoned I do not know. They use likewise a sort of wooden mallet called Macána, for close quarters in war. They have a curious weapon which they employ for catching fish. It is a spear with a double point, forming an angle of about 5 degrees. The insides of these two points, which are 6 inches long, are jagged; so that when the body of a fish is forced between them it cannot get away on account of the teeth.144

The people on the island of Tiburon are strong, tall, and well-built, quite similar to the Twelchii tribe of Indians in Patagonia. They speak a language that is so similar to theirs that it felt like I was transported back to those wild areas. They don’t look as fierce as they are often depicted, and there’s something uniquely gentle about the faces of the women. Their clothing resembles a blanket that goes from the hips to the knees. However, most of the older women cover this part of their bodies with eagle skins, with the feathers facing inward. The upper part of their bodies is completely exposed, and their hair is styled in a knot on top of their heads, which really enhances their painted faces. The men use bows and stone-tipped arrows, though I’m not sure if they are poisoned. They also wield a wooden mallet called Macána for close combat in war. They have an interesting weapon for catching fish, which is a spear with two points that form about a 5-degree angle. The insides of these points are jagged and 6 inches long, so when a fish is caught between them, it can’t escape because of the teeth.

He saw “about fifteen or twenty canoes made of three long bamboo bundles fastened together”, and observed that, when engaged in turtle fishing, the Indian “paddles himself from the shore on one of these by means of a long elastic pole of about 12 or 14 feet in length, the wood of which is the root of a thorn called mesquite, growing near the coast”, this pole serving also as a harpoon shaft, provided with a harpoon head and cord, such as those still in use. Respecting the invocatory appurtenances, he says:

He saw "around fifteen or twenty canoes made from three long bundles of bamboo tied together," and noted that when fishing for turtles, the Indian "paddles himself from the shore using a long flexible pole about 12 or 14 feet long, made from the root of a thorn called mesquite, which grows near the coast." This pole also doubles as a harpoon shaft, equipped with a harpoon head and cord, similar to those still used today. Regarding the ceremonial accessories, he mentions:

My attention was directed by the old women to a pile of bushes outside the hut, which had a staff of about 5 feet in length sticking up through the center. From 87 the upper end of the staff was suspended by a cord 12 or 14 inches long a round stone ball, and to this ball was fastened another string furnished with bits of cork, surrounded with small feathers stuck into them at the distance of about 3 inches apart: the only use of the stone ball being to prevent the wind from blowing out horizontally the string which was furnished with feathers.... Upon examining the bushy pile, I discovered a wooden figure with a carved hat, and others of different shapes and sizes, as well also as leathern bags, the contents of which I was not permitted to explore.145

An old woman pointed my attention to a group of bushes outside the hut, which had a 5-foot tall pole in the middle. Hanging from the top of the pole was a round stone ball by a cord that was about 12 to 14 inches long, and attached to this ball was another string with pieces of cork, each decorated with small feathers spaced about 3 inches apart. The stone ball was there just to stop the wind from blowing the feathery string sideways. While I looked at the bushy pile, I discovered a wooden figure with a carved hat, along with others of different shapes and sizes, and leather bags with contents I wasn't allowed to explore. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

He also mentions that “in their festivities the Indians wear the head (with the horns on)” of the bura or mule deer. He adds:

He also mentions that “in their celebrations, the Indians wear the head (with the horns on)” of the bura or mule deer. He adds:

It is believed that the Céres Indians have discovered a method of poisoning their arrows, and that they do it in this way: They kill a cow and take from it its liver. They then collect a number of rattlesnakes, scorpions, centipedes, and tarantulas, which they confine in a hole with the liver. The next process is to beat them with sticks in order to enrage them, and being thus infuriated, they fasten their fangs and exhaust their venom upon each other and upon the liver. When the whole mass is in a high state of corruption the old women take the arrows and pass their points through it. They are then allowed to dry in the shade, and it is said that a wound inflicted by them will prove fatal. Others again say that the poison is obtained from the juice of the yerba de la flécha (arrow wort).146

It's believed that the Céres Indians have figured out how to poison their arrows, and here's how they do it: They kill a cow and take its liver. Then, they collect a bunch of rattlesnakes, scorpions, centipedes, and tarantulas and put them in a hole with the liver. The next step is to hit them with sticks to provoke them, and while they're agitated, they bite each other and inject their venom into the liver. Once everything is severely contaminated, the older women take the arrows and dip the tips in the mixture. They let them dry in the shade, and it's said that a wound from these arrows will be deadly. Others claim that the poison comes from the juice of the yerba de la flécha (arrow wort).

He purchased some of the arrows, which were stone-tipped, and had “certainly had an unguent applied to them”.

He bought some stone-tipped arrows that had definitely been coated with an ointment.

He was impressed by indications of family affection, and noted the custom of having two wives. Concerning tribal relations he says:

He was impressed by signs of family love and noted the custom of having two wives. About tribal relations, he says:

These people have been always considered extremely ferocious, and there is little doubt, from their brave and warlike character, that they may formerly have devastated a great part of the country; but in modern days their feuds are nearly confined to a neighboring tribe of the same name as themselves (Céres), who speak the same language and in all probability originally descended from the same stock. They are said to be inferior to those of this island both in courage and stature, and they are never suffered to cross the channel. From what I was told * * * the Tiburow Céres have lately returned from a sanguinary war with the Tépoca Céres, in which the former were victorious.147

These people have always been known to be extremely fierce, and there's no doubt that their brave and warlike nature may have once caused widespread destruction across a large part of the country. However, nowadays, their conflicts are mostly limited to a nearby tribe with the same name (Céres), who speak the same language and likely share similar ancestry. They are reportedly less courageous and shorter than those from this island, and they are never allowed to cross the channel. From what I heard * * * the Tiburow Céres have recently returned from a bloody war with the Tépoca Céres, where they emerged victorious.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Later in his itinerary Hardy noted a typical Yaqui revolution, with a characteristic effort to secure the cooperation of the Seri.148 He defined the Seri habitat as “the island of Tiburow, the coast of Tépoca, and the pueblo of Los Céres, near Pitic”;149 and he estimated the population at “3,000 or 4,000 at the very utmost”,150 and quoted the estimate of Don José Maria Retio, viz., that the Seri population of Tiburon was 1,000 to 1,500.151

Later in his journey, Hardy noted a typical Yaqui revolution, with a usual attempt to gain the cooperation of the Seri.148 He described the Seri's habitat as “the island of Tiburow, the coast of Tépoca, and the town of Los Céres, near Pitic”;149 and he estimated the population to be “3,000 or 4,000 at the very most,”150 and referenced Don José Maria Retio's estimate that the Seri population of Tiburon was between 1,000 and 1,500.151

Like most of those visitors to the Seri who have returned to tell their tale, Hardy “praised the bridge that carried him over” and gave the tribe passable character—worse, of course, than that of any other, yet hardly so bad as painted at Pitic.

Like many of the visitors to the Seri who have come back to share their stories, Hardy “praised the bridge that carried him over” and portrayed the tribe in a somewhat decent light—worse, of course, than that of any other, but hardly as negatively as depicted at Pitic.

A noteworthy traveler in western America during 1840-1842 was M. Duflot de Mofras, an attache of the French legation in Mexico. He 88 traversed the Californias and entered Sonora, and while he failed to see Seriland, he made a note on the tribe, valuable as a current estimate of the population:

A notable traveler in the western United States from 1840 to 1842 was M. Duflot de Mofras, an attache of the French legation in Mexico. He 88 traveled through California and entered Sonora, and although he didn’t see Seriland, he recorded information about the tribe that is useful as a current estimate of the population:

At the gates of the city of Hermosillo is established a Mission which contains 500 Seri Indians; 1,000 of them, inhabit the coast to the north of Guaymas and Île du Requin (Isla del Tiburon).152

At the gates of the city of Hermosillo, there’s a Mission that is home to 500 Seri Indians; another 1,000 live along the coast north of Guaymas and Île du Requin (Isla del Tiburon).__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The next noteworthy episode in the external history of the Seri chronicled in the civil records of Sonora culminated in 1844. “The above-named Seris, although their number never became important, did not abandon their propensity to revolt, and, while they never rose en masse, made many factional uprisings. Ultimately ... they displayed such boldness, robbing ranchos, assassinating all they encountered, assaulting on the roads arrieros and other travelers”, that a considerable force was sent against them from Hermosillo under the direction of Captain Victor Araiza. It was planned to support this land force by a sea party from Guaymas, but delays and misunderstandings caused the practical abandonment of the plan. Tiring of the delay, Araiza “declared war on the Indians, surprising them on Punta del Carrizal, killing 11, including several innocent women and children”, and taking 4 captives of from 1 to 11 years in age; whereupon the army returned to Hermosillo.153

The next significant event in the external history of the Seri, recorded in the civil records of Sonora, happened in 1844. “The Seris, although their numbers were never significant, did not give up their desire to revolt. While they never rose up as a large group, they staged many smaller uprisings. Ultimately... they became quite daring, robbing ranches, killing anyone they encountered, and attacking arrieros and other travelers on the roads,” which prompted a substantial force to be sent against them from Hermosillo under Captain Victor Araiza's command. There were plans to support this ground force with a naval group from Guaymas, but delays and misunderstandings led to the plan being largely abandoned. Frustrated with the hold-up, Araiza “declared war on the Indians, catching them off guard at Punta del Carrizal, killing 11, including several innocent women and children,” and capturing 4 individuals aged between 1 and 11 years; after which the army returned to Hermosillo.153

Disapproving of this undignified and inhuman crusade, the acting governor, General Francisco Ponce de Leon, planned a still more vigorous campaign by land and sea for the purpose of capturing the entire tribe and transporting them to Pueblo Seri, where a few of their kin were still harbored.154 The command was intrusted to Colonel Francisco Andrade, who took personal charge of the land force, including 160 infantry from Guaymas, 60 infantry and 30 cavalry from Hermosillo, and considerable corps from Horcasitas and Altar. The naval auxiliary, in charge of Don Tomás Espence,155 pilot, comprised a schooner of 12 tons; two launches, one carrying a 4-pound cannon and the other a 2-pound falconet; and one rowboat. On August 11, 1844, Espence sailed from Guaymas, and six days later cast anchor at the embarcadero (apparently a convenient place on the coast of Bahia Kino due west of Pozo Escalante—the Embarcadero Andrade of figure 1) opposite Tiburon. Andrade marched from Hermosillo August 13, 89 reached Carrizal August 16, and had detachments at the coast to meet the squadron the next day. Both the vessels and this detachment were out of water, and next morning Espence, taking a few soldiers and an Indian guide, made his way to Tiburon in search of springs; but “on arriving it turned out that the Indian had deceived the party or did not wish to reveal the water.” Nevertheless they landed, and Espence hoisted the Mexican flag, “taking possession of the island in the name of the Mexican Government, as the first civilized person to touch the soil.” Afterward he divided his force, and he and the sailors wandered far, spending the entire day in vain search for water. Toward evening he “made the men wade into the sea up to their necks, and in this manner mitigated somewhat their burning thirst.” Meantime the soldiers had traveled inland some 6 or 8 miles, and found water at the head of an arroyo (apparently a temporary tinaja west of Punta Narragansett), but it was surrounded by Indians, who at once gave battle. Such was their thirst that the soldiers held their ground, drinking one at a time under the protection of their comrades. At length they killed two chiefs (one of whom wore a jacket taken from one Hijar, robbed on the Cienega road a few days before), and succeeded in withdrawing to a small eminence and sheltering themselves behind a rock. Later they effected a retreat without loss, and of course without water, so that they arrived at the shore even thirstier than the sailors. Making their way back to the mainland during the night, the party were relieved the following day by mule-loads of water sent over from Carrizal. On August 20 Colonel Andrade marched to the coast with most of his force, leaving a detachment to guard the route; and the next day Espence transported to the island 125 troops, 16 horses, and some mules and cattle, without other accident than the drowning of a mule and a steer “by the strength of the current”. Suffering much from thirst, the troops pressed inland to the watering-place already discovered, where they camped. The next day Colonel Andrade, with Lieutenant Jesus Garcia, worked northward, finding another watering-place (doubtless Tinaja Anita) 3½ leagues distant from the first; and this was made headquarters for the force. Several parties were sent out in search of water and Indians. A few watering-places were found, and a number of women and children with a few men were captured, though the journals indicate that the excursions were of limited extent only. Meantime Espence brought over the baggage and provisions; and on August 24, leaving a launch and a rowboat for the use of the troops, he sailed northward through the strait, and three days later, after passing many bars of sand, entered the bay at the extreme north (Bahia Agua Dulce), opposite Punta Tepopa, finding sharks swarming in thousands. Here he found fresh water 250 paces from the beach—the water which sustained Hardy eighteen years before, and Ugarte over a century earlier still. He found no Indians here, but a number of jacales and balsas (which he 90 immediately burned), as well as bones and other remains of horses.156 On August 28 and 29 Espence skirted the abrupt and rocky coasts of Tiburon, west and south of the northern bay, without seeing trace of natives; on the 30th he reached the western bay, where he found huts and fresh tracks, and captured a woman disabled by snake-bite. Farther down the bay he encountered a considerable party, who first prepared to attack, and then, overawed by his bold front, sued for peace; whereupon he accepted their submission, and sent them with a letter to Colonel Andrade. This affair concluded, and escaping currents so contrary that he was nearly locoed (“por las corrientes encontradas que me volvian loco”),157 he coasted southward; and on September 1, at the southwestern point of the island, he found another rancheria, and made peaceful conquest of the occupants, whom he also sent with a letter to Andrade. Thence he coasted eastward, and, on September 3, returned to his starting point, “having navigated the island in the period of nine days, having in this time burned 64 huts and 97 balsas, and reduced to peace 104 Indians with their families.” The next day he transported the captives to the mainland, “their number, comprising men, women, and children, reaching 384, besides about 37 remaining at large on the island.”158 On September 5 the remaining troops were transferred to the mainland, with the exception of a small detachment, which remained for an unspecified, but evidently short period, in the vain hope of corralling the warriors, with the families to which they belonged, supposed (on grounds not given) to remain on the island. The troops and their captives immediately moved to Laguna de los Cercaditos (probably Laguna la Cruz) to rejoin the cavalry guard; thence, suffering much from thirst, they marched toward Hermosillo, arriving at that place September 12,159 where the troops and captives formed a triumphal procession, met on the highroad by the merchants and the civil and military authorities, and greeted by the ringing of bells and the firing of rockets, and with music and refreshments. 91

Disapproving of this undignified and inhuman crusade, the acting governor, General Francisco Ponce de Leon, planned a more vigorous campaign by land and sea to capture the entire tribe and transport them to Pueblo Seri, where some of their kin still resided.154 The command was entrusted to Colonel Francisco Andrade, who personally led the land force, consisting of 160 infantry from Guaymas, 60 infantry and 30 cavalry from Hermosillo, and additional troops from Horcasitas and Altar. The naval support, led by Don Tomás Espence,155 comprised a schooner of 12 tons; two launches, one carrying a 4-pound cannon and the other a 2-pound falconet; and one rowboat. On August 11, 1844, Espence sailed from Guaymas, and six days later anchored at the embarcadero (apparently a convenient spot on the coast of Bahia Kino due west of Pozo Escalante—the Embarcadero Andrade of figure 1) opposite Tiburon. Andrade set out from Hermosillo on August 13, reached Carrizal on August 16, and stationed detachments at the coast to meet the squadron the next day. Both the vessels and this detachment were short on water, and the following morning, Espence, taking a few soldiers and an Indian guide, headed to Tiburon in search of springs; but “upon arrival it turned out that the Indian had deceived the party or did not want to reveal the location of the water.” Nevertheless, they disembarked, and Espence raised the Mexican flag, “taking possession of the island in the name of the Mexican Government, as the first civilized person to step on the soil.” After that, he split his force, and he and the sailors wandered far, spending the entire day fruitlessly searching for water. By evening, he “had the men wade into the sea up to their necks, which somewhat eased their intense thirst.” Meanwhile, the soldiers had moved inland about 6 to 8 miles and discovered water at the head of an arroyo (likely a temporary tinaja west of Punta Narragansett), but it was surrounded by Indians, who immediately engaged them in battle. So desperate was their thirst that the soldiers held their ground, drinking one by one under the cover of their comrades. Eventually, they killed two chiefs (one of whom wore a jacket taken from one Hijar, robbed on the Cienega road a few days earlier) and managed to retreat to a small hill and take shelter behind a rock. Later, they retreated without any casualties, but of course, without water, arriving at the shore even thirstier than the sailors. Making their way back to the mainland during the night, the party was relieved the next day by mule-loads of water sent over from Carrizal. On August 20, Colonel Andrade marched to the coast with most of his force, leaving a detachment to guard the route; the next day, Espence transported 125 troops, 16 horses, and some mules and cattle to the island, with only the drowning of a mule and a steer “due to the strength of the current” as a mishap. Suffering greatly from thirst, the troops advanced inland to the water source they had already discovered, where they set up camp. The next day, Colonel Andrade, along with Lieutenant Jesus Garcia, traveled northward, finding another watering place (likely Tinaja Anita) 3½ leagues from the first; this became the headquarters for the force. Several groups were sent out to search for water and Indians. A few water sources were located, and several women and children along with a few men were captured, although the journals indicate that these excursions were of limited scope. Meanwhile, Espence brought over the baggage and provisions; on August 24, leaving a launch and a rowboat for the troops, he sailed northward through the strait, and three days later, after passing many sandbars, entered the bay at the far north (Bahia Agua Dulce), opposite Punta Tepopa, where thousands of sharks swarmed. Here he discovered fresh water 250 paces from the beach—the same water that sustained Hardy eighteen years earlier, and Ugarte over a century ago. He found no Indians here, but several jacales and balsas (which he immediately burned), as well as bones and other remnants of horses.156 On August 28 and 29, Espence navigated the steep and rocky shores of Tiburon, west and south of the northern bay, without seeing any signs of natives; on the 30th, he reached the western bay, where he found huts and fresh tracks, capturing a woman bitten by a snake. Further down the bay, he encountered a significant group who initially readied to attack but were then intimidated by his bold demeanor and sought peace; he accepted their submission and sent them with a letter to Colonel Andrade. After this encounter ended, and while battling very strong currents that nearly drove him crazy (“por las corrientes encontradas que me volvían loco”),157 he sailed southward; on September 1, at the island's southwestern point, he found another rancheria and peacefully took control of the occupants, who he also sent with a letter to Andrade. He then sailed eastward and returned to his starting point on September 3, “having navigated the island in the span of nine days, burning 64 huts and 97 balsas, and pacifying 104 Indians with their families.” The next day, he transported the captives to the mainland, “their total number, including men, women, and children, reaching 384, with about 37 remaining at large on the island.”158 On September 5, the remaining troops were moved to the mainland, except for a small detachment that stayed for a short, though unspecified, time in the futile hope of rounding up the warriors and their families, who were thought (without much evidence) to still be on the island. The troops and their captives quickly made their way to Laguna de los Cercaditos (probably Laguna la Cruz) to rejoin the cavalry guard; from there, suffering greatly from thirst, they marched toward Hermosillo, arriving there on September 12,159 where the troops and captives formed a triumphal procession, met on the highway by merchants and civil and military officials, and celebrated with the ringing of bells, firing of rockets, and music and refreshments.

The captives were imprisoned over night in the mint, the children weeping, the women chattering angrily or humbly, and the men sulking. Next day the Hermosilleños began distributing the children among themselves, some families taking three and many two, while the adults were transferred to Pueblo Seri, placed in charge of a single keeper, and set to gathering fuel, etc. Naturally this unstable status did not long persist; “within two months they began to disappear, fleeing to their respective and native haunts, stealing and carrying with them the children from whom they had been separated”;160 and, according to Espence, they committed “many murders on the Pitic and Guaimas roads” as they returned to Tiburon.161

The captives were locked up overnight in the mint, with the children crying, the women chatting either angrily or submissively, and the men sulking. The next day, the people from Hermosillo started distributing the children among themselves, with some families taking three and many taking two, while the adults were moved to Pueblo Seri, put under the care of a single keeper, and assigned to gather fuel, etc. Naturally, this unstable situation didn't last long; “within two months they began to disappear, fleeing to their respective and native places, stealing and taking with them the children from whom they had been separated”;160 and, according to Espence, they committed “many murders on the Pitic and Guaimas roads” as they made their way back to Tiburon.161

While the Tiburon captives were escaping, the campaigning continued; and, in November, 1844, several Seri families, comprising 63 men, women, and children, who had been scavengering Rancho del Burro (“manteniéndose allí á merced de los desperdicios de dicho rancho”),162 were captured and transported to the mint at Hermosillo, and soon afterward transferred to Pueblo Seri. During the same month a report came from Rancho del Pocito, on the Guaymas road, that Seri marauders (assumed to belong to the 16 families left on the island) had killed 10 head of stock; and a detachment of 15 cavalry was sent to inflict punishment. Early in December this party met a Seri force of over seventy warriors, including some of those captured on Tiburon and escaped from Pueblo Seri; after a battle of four hours the troops found their ammunition exhausted, several of their carbines out of order, and all but four or five of their horses winded; so that they were driven to parley with the Indians and to procure their surrender by pacific means—especially promises of good treatment.163 Subsequently a municipal commission from Hermosillo reminded the defeated Seri of their surrender, and “three, four, or eight” of them presented themselves (“presentándose tres, cuatro ú ocho hombres”), and were probably added to the colony at Pueblo Seri.

While the Tiburon captives were escaping, the campaigning continued; and in November 1844, several Seri families, totaling 63 men, women, and children, who had been scavenging Rancho del Burro (“staying there at the mercy of the waste from that ranch”),162 were captured and taken to the mint in Hermosillo, and soon afterward moved to Pueblo Seri. During the same month, a report came from Rancho del Pocito, along the Guaymas road, that Seri raiders (thought to belong to the 16 families left on the island) had killed 10 livestock; and a detachment of 15 cavalry was sent to punish them. Early in December, this group encountered a Seri force of over seventy warriors, including some of those captured on Tiburon and escaped from Pueblo Seri. After a four-hour battle, the troops found their ammunition spent, several of their carbines malfunctioning, and all but four or five of their horses exhausted; so they were forced to negotiate with the Indians to secure their surrender through peaceful means—especially promises of fair treatment.163 Later, a municipal commission from Hermosillo reminded the defeated Seri of their surrender, and “three, four, or eight” of them showed up (“presentándose tres, cuatro ú ocho hombres”), and were likely added to the colony at Pueblo Seri.

Espence’s journal clearly indicates a complete circumnavigation of Tiburon, the second in history (that of Ugarte in 1721 being the first); and naturally some of his notes are of ethnologic value:

Espence’s journal clearly shows a full trip around Tiburon, marking the second time in history that this has happened (Ugarte's trip in 1721 being the first); and naturally, some of his notes are valuable for understanding different cultures:

The Ceris Indians are tall, well formed, not very corpulent; the women are remarkable for small breasts and feet and high insteps. At night they travel ill; this is to be attributed to the reflection of the sun on the sand, which is quite white, and as they all live on the shore where they gain sustenance, which is fish and plankton [marisco], they are daily exposed to a glare which injures their vision. Their favorite food is turtles and horses.... They are all in the most savage condition it is possible to conceive. Their language is guttural, and they are most filthy in their persons, as in their food, which is mostly eaten raw, or at the best half 92 cooked; they endure a thousand miseries on the island, yet the love they have for it is incredible. They are always accompanied by innumerable dogs, ... which they have domesticated.164

The Ceris Indians are tall and well-built but not very heavy; the women are known for their small breasts, small feet, and high arches. At night, they struggle to travel because the sun reflects off the bright white sand, and since they all live along the shore where they get their food, mainly fish and plankton, they are constantly facing glare that harms their eyesight. Their favorite foods include turtles and horses. They live in a very primitive state. Their language is guttural, and they have poor personal hygiene and their food is mainly eaten raw or, at best, partially cooked. They endure many hardships on the island, yet their love for it is remarkable. They are always accompanied by numerous dogs, which they have domesticated. 92

Velasco adds:

Velasco says:

The Ceris subsist on fish, the seeds of grass, and coastwise shrubs, as well as on the flesh of horses and deer, which they kill. There is no better proof of this fact than this—on approaching the said Ceris, one instantly perceives that their bodies exhale an intolerable stench, like that of a corpse of eight or more days, totally rotten, so that it is necessary to withdraw far as possible from them.165

The Ceris survive on fish, grass seeds, and coastal shrubs, along with the meat of horses and deer that they hunt. There's no better evidence of this than the awful smell that hits you when you get close to the Ceris, reminiscent of a corpse that's been dead for eight days or more—completely rotting—so it's best to keep your distance from them.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Of all the Indian tribes known in Sonora, none are more barbarous and uncivilized than the Ceris. They are perverse to the limit, vicious beyond compare in drunkenness, infinitely filthy, the bitterest enemies of the whites, like the worst of the Indians.166

Among all the Indian tribes in Sonora, none are as brutal and uncivilized as the Ceris. They are extremely twisted, dangerously violent when intoxicated, incredibly unclean, and the fiercest adversaries of white people, like the worst of the Indians.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__

He adds also that the men wear a pelican-skin robe and a breechclout of cotton cloth, with most of the body uncovered; “they have their faces painted or barred with prominent black lines. They use no foot-gear of any kind, and many have the nasal septum pierced and adorned with pieces of greenstone or ordinary glass.” “They are robust in stature, tall and straight, generally with bright black eyes. The women are not uncomely, and of bronzy color [de color abronzado]. Their clothing is made of pelican skins fastened together, retaining the feathers; with this they are covered from the waist downward”, the remainder of the body being bare. The women of Hermosillo provide them with cast off garments when they approach the city, and these they wear, unwashed, until they fall to pieces. “The said tribe, in addition to being the vilest and most brutal known in the country, are preeminently treacherous and traitorous, so that forty of their outbreaks may be counted during the efforts to reduce them to civilized life.” At the time of the Cimarrones outbreak, the Seri of Tiburon and Tepoka numbered 2,000; “to day [about 1846 or 1847], counting the 259, which are all that inhabit Tiburon and the most that can be presented, including the Tepoka Seri [los Ceris Tepocas], who have always been much fewer, their whole number will not amount to 500 persons of all sexes and ages, and the warriors can not exceed 60 or 80 at the most.” The Seri are not polygamous, though apparently promiscuous (“se nota en sus matrimonios mucha tolerancia mútuamente”). They “adore the moon, which they venerate and respect as a deity; when they see the new moon, they kneel and make obeisance; they kiss the earth and make a thousand genuflections, beating their breasts.”167

He also mentions that the men wear robes made from pelican skin and a cotton breechclout, leaving most of their bodies uncovered. “Their faces are painted or marked with bold black lines. They wear no shoes at all, and many have their nasal septum pierced, decorated with pieces of greenstone or regular glass.” “They are strong and tall, typically with bright black eyes. The women are not unattractive and have a bronzed skin tone. Their clothing is made of pelican skins stitched together, keeping the feathers, and this covers them from the waist down,” leaving the rest of their bodies bare. The women from Hermosillo give them discarded clothing when they come near the city, which they wear, unwashed, until it disintegrates. “This tribe, in addition to being the most wicked and brutal known in the area, is extremely treacherous and deceitful, with about forty uprisings recorded during attempts to civilize them.” At the time of the Cimarrones uprising, the Seri of Tiburon and Tepoka had about 2,000 members; “today [around 1846 or 1847], accounting for the 259, which are all that live in Tiburon and the most that can be accounted for, including the Tepoka Seri [los Ceris Tepocas], who have always been much fewer, their total number is under 500 individuals of all genders and ages, and the warriors are no more than 60 to 80 at most.” The Seri are not polygamous, though they seem to be promiscuous (“there is a lot of mutual tolerance in their marriages”). They “worship the moon, which they honor and respect as a deity; when they see the new moon, they kneel and show respect; they kiss the ground and make a thousand genuflections, beating their chests.”167

The remarkably vigorous expedition of Andrade and Espence occurred within the memory of men still active, and naturally it lives in tradition at Hermosillo and Bacuache, and among the ranchos lying toward the border of Seriland; indeed, one of the two Mexicans accompanying the 1895 expedition, Don Ygnacio Lozania, retained shadowy impressions of participating in an invasion of the island, which could have been none other than that planned by Governor De 93 Leon and executed by Colonel Andrade. Yet it is not uncharacteristic of Sonoran history that the wave of anti-Seri activity culminating in 1844 hardly outlasted its own breaking; certainly Escudero, writing less than five years later, declared of “la nacion Seri”: “During thirty-three years they have committed not a single act of hostility and live in peace and perfect harmony with the Sonorenses.” He added that they occupied the islands of Tiburon and Tepoca (sic) and the coasts of the gulf contiguous to Sonora and California, and from the most remote antiquity had been known by the names of “tiburones” or “seris”. Describing Pueblo Seri, he observed: “It now contains hardly a dozen aged Seris of both sexes”; and he forecast the early extinction of the tribe, since the people were incapable of abandoning their independent and solitary existence.168

The surprisingly vigorous expedition of Andrade and Espence happened within the memory of still active individuals, and naturally it remains part of the tradition in Hermosillo and Bacuache, as well as among the ranches near the border of Seriland. In fact, one of the two Mexicans who joined the 1895 expedition, Don Ygnacio Lozania, had vague memories of being part of an invasion of the island, which could only refer to the one organized by Governor De Leon and carried out by Colonel Andrade. Yet, it's typical of Sonoran history that the surge of anti-Seri activity that peaked in 1844 didn't last long; certainly, Escudero, writing less than five years later, stated about “la nacion Seri”: “For thirty-three years they have not committed a single act of hostility, and live in peace and perfect harmony with the Sonorenses.” He added that they occupied the islands of Tiburon and Tepoca (sic) and the coastlines of the gulf adjacent to Sonora and California, and from the earliest times, they had been known by the names “tiburones” or “seris”. Describing Pueblo Seri, he noted: “It now has hardly a dozen elderly Seris of both genders,” and he predicted the tribe's early extinction, since the people were unable to abandon their independent and solitary way of life.168


Here ends, practically, the history of Pueblo Seri as a Seri settlement, for, although one of the tribe survived for half a century and a few others may have survived for a decade, the “aged Seris of both sexes” melted away so rapidly as to leave no later record, and were apparently never replaced by others. Briefly, the history of the pueblo began with the establishment of a presidio or military post in 1741 in the natural gateway and watering-place leading into the settled valleys of the Opodepe and upper Sonora, for the sole purpose of protecting the settlements against the wandering Seri, who used this typical Sonora watergap as a way-station on forays but never as a place of residence. The history grew definite when the Jesuits obtained the allotment of lands for the Seri and established for them a mission, which was at the same time a place of catechizing for Seri neophytes, a place of detention for Seri captives, a place of refuge for Seri weaklings, and a place of resort for Seri sneaks and spies. The history proceeded with many vicissitudes, as the presidio was alternately abandoned under Seri attacks and reoccupied when the attacks were repulsed, and as the neophytes alternately escaped and suffered recapture; the formal history waned in relative importance as the population and interests of Pitic and afterward of Hermosillo waxed, and as the lands originally allotted to the Seri were gradually taken and held by Mexican settlers, and ended when the Seri tenure was formally extinguished in 1844, as described by Cabrera and Velasco; and the general history dropped into unimportance with the escape of Andrade’s captives, after temporary quartering on the legally established landholders and householders of the Mexicanized pueblo. For a century and a half the name of the pueblo has continually raised and renewed the assumption that it marks a site of aboriginal Seri habitation or has played some other leading rôle in Seri history, and this assumption has shaped opinion past and present; yet its error is clearly shown by scrutiny of the historical records, as well as by collateral ethnologic and archeologic evidence. 94

Here ends, effectively, the history of Pueblo Seri as a Seri settlement. While one member of the tribe survived for fifty years and a few others may have lasted a decade, the “older Seris of both genders” quickly disappeared, leaving no further record and apparently never being replaced. In short, the history of the pueblo began with the establishment of a military post in 1741 at the natural gateway and watering place leading into the settled valleys of Opodepe and upper Sonora, aimed solely at protecting the settlements from the wandering Seri, who used this typical Sonora water gap as a stopping point during raids but never as a place to live. The history became clearer when the Jesuits secured land for the Seri and set up a mission that served as a catechism site for Seri new converts, a detention center for Seri captives, a refuge for weak members of the tribe, and a hideout for Seri spies. The history continued with many ups and downs, as the presidio was sometimes abandoned due to Seri attacks and reoccupied when the attacks were pushed back, and as new converts alternated between escaping and being recaptured; the formal history diminished in significance as the population and interests of Pitic and later Hermosillo grew, and as the lands originally allotted to the Seri were gradually taken over by Mexican settlers. It ended when the Seri's rights to the land were officially extinguished in 1844, as described by Cabrera and Velasco. Meanwhile, the broader history faded in importance with the escape of Andrade’s captives after they were temporarily housed by the legally established landowners and residents of the Mexicanized pueblo. For a century and a half, the name of the pueblo has continually raised the idea that it signifies a site of original Seri habitation or has played some other key role in Seri history, and this belief has influenced opinions both past and present; yet its inaccuracy is clearly demonstrated by a close examination of historical records, as well as by supporting ethnological and archaeological evidence. 94

Here may be said to end, too, the local chronicles of the Seri; for although the state archives are crowded with charges, petitions, commissions, reports, and other papers pertaining to the irrepressible Seri; although these materials have overflowed to Ciudad, Mexico, and even to Washington, in official documents both numerous and voluminous; although Dávila in 1894 increased Velasco’s forty Seri wars to fifty; and although the weightiest events in the internal history of the Seri have occurred since 1844, little attempt has latterly been made to reduce the abundant data to print.

Here is where the local stories of the Seri come to an end; even though the state archives are filled with complaints, requests, commissions, reports, and other documents related to the unstoppable Seri; even though this information has spread to Ciudad, Mexico, and even to Washington, with countless official documents; even though Dávila in 1894 increased Velasco’s count of forty Seri wars to fifty; and even though the most significant events in the Seri's internal history have happened since 1844, there has been little effort recently to publish the wealth of information available.

The Mexican geographic knowledge of the time was surprisingly vague, as is shown by the current maps, for example, the Tanner maps which appeared in several editions: the 1846 edition recalls and evidently reflects the Humboldt map of the beginning of the century; “R. Ascencion” is represented as embouching through an estuary about 30° 20', with the “Seris Indians” north of its lower half-length and west of “Pitic” and “Ft. del Alter”; Ures is located 3 or 4 miles southeast of this fort, and “Racuach” (the Bacuachito of the present) is 20 miles farther southeastward. Neither Rio Sonora nor any of its important branches are indicated, while “Pitic” is placed several times too far from the coast and from Guaymas, in a featureless expanse of paper; “Rio Hiaqui” is shown as a branchless and conventional stream of a single crescentic curvature, embouching in about the right latitude. The coast of the gulf is distorted, and “Tiburon” is shown as an island much too large and nearly a degree too far north, separated from the mainland by a greatly exaggerated strait, with an elongated mesa (“Mt. del Picu”) skirting the mainland coast—in short, the cartography is largely traditional if not fanciful.169

The geographic knowledge of Mexico at that time was surprisingly vague, as shown by current maps, like the Tanner maps, which were published in several editions. The 1846 edition references and clearly reflects the Humboldt map from the beginning of the century; “R. Ascencion” is depicted flowing into an estuary around 30° 20', with the “Seris Indians” located north of its lower half and west of “Pitic” and “Ft. del Alter.” Ures is shown to be 3 or 4 miles southeast of this fort, and “Racuach” (now known as Bacuachito) is another 20 miles farther southeast. Neither the Rio Sonora nor any of its significant branches are marked, while “Pitic” is placed multiple times too far from the coast and Guaymas in a blank area of the map; “Rio Hiaqui” is illustrated as a branchless, conventional stream with a single crescent curve, flowing into about the right latitude. The gulf coast is distorted, and “Tiburon” is depicted as an island that's way too large and nearly a degree too far north, separated from the mainland by an exaggerated strait, with an elongated mesa (“Mt. del Picu”) lining the mainland coast—in short, the cartography is mostly traditional if not fanciful.169


The career of the Seri during the half century 1844-1894 is traceable by aid of (1) unpublished documents, (2) published results of scientific inquiries and surveys, and (3) personal reminiscences of men living on the Seri frontier; but in a summary touching only salient points the first-named source may be passed over.

The career of the Seri from 1844 to 1894 can be tracked using (1) unpublished documents, (2) published results of scientific research and surveys, and (3) personal memories of people living on the Seri frontier; however, in a summary that only covers key points, the first source can be skipped.

One of the first foreign visitors to follow Baron Humboldt in systematic inquiries concerning the aborigines of northwestern Mexico was Henri Ternaux-Compans; his information, too, was secondhand and remote, yet he correctly recognized Isla Tiburon as “inhabited by the Seris, who have some huts also on the mainland”.170

One of the first foreign visitors to follow Baron Humboldt in systematic inquiries about the indigenous people of northwestern Mexico was Henri Ternaux-Compans; his information was also secondhand and distant, but he accurately identified Isla Tiburon as “inhabited by the Seris, who also have some huts on the mainland.”170

Later came Eduard Mühlenpfordt, an attaché of a German commercial company and later a Mexican state official, who traveled extensively and wrote partly at first hand, though there is little indication of personal acquaintance with Seriland or the Seri: he described “Bahia de San 95 Juan Bautista”, with “the small island San Augustin” lying before it (in such manner as to identify this islet with Isla Tassne), and located “the large island Tiburon farther northward, opposite a mountainous coast”.171 He added:

Later, Eduard Mühlenpfordt, an attaché from a German commercial company and later a Mexican state official, traveled a lot and wrote partly from personal experience, although there’s not much evidence of him really knowing Seriland or the Seri. He described “Bahia de San 95 Juan Bautista,” with “the small island San Augustin” in front of it (suggesting that this islet is Isla Tassne), and placed “the large island Tiburon further north, across from a mountainous coast.” 171 He added:

The waterless but cattle-stocked plains between the place Pitic and the coast, and thence up to the river Ascension, are inhabited by a meager remnant of the Seri tribe, while on Tiburon island, opposite this coast, the Tiburones dwell. The Seris were formerly very numerous, by far the fiercest of all the Indian tribes of northern Mexico, and very warlike. Through ceaseless war with the Tiburones and the troops from the Spanish presidios they are now nearly extinct.172

The dry, cattle-filled plains between Pitic and the coast, stretching up to the Ascension River, are home to a small remaining group of the Seri tribe. On Tiburon Island, opposite this coast, the Tiburones reside. The Seris were once very numerous, the fiercest of all the Indian tribes in northern Mexico, and highly militaristic. Due to ongoing conflicts with the Tiburones and troops from the Spanish presidios, they are now nearly extinct.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Elsewhere the Tiburones were characterized as enemies of the Seri,173 while the “Heris” tribe was enumerated as a branch of the “Pimas Bajas” people. Herr Mühlenpfordt’s characterization of the Seri and the Tiburon islanders as enemies would appear to be groundless, yet not wholly incomprehensible; in the first place, the earlier literature indicates that the term Seri (Seris, Ceris, Heris, etc.) was an alien designation of lax application,174 doubtless extended occasionally or habitually to marauding nomads, regardless of affinity; again there is conclusive evidence that in many instances Seri convert-captives attached to the missions and pueblos were often regarded as tribal apostates and outlaws whose lives were forfeit; and, moreover, the region in which Herr Mühlenpfordt gained his information was and still is one of abounding tale, whose frequent exaggeration and not infrequent invention conceal and distort the simple facts.

Elsewhere, the Tiburones were described as enemies of the Seri, while the “Heris” tribe was noted as a branch of the “Pimas Bajas” people. Herr Mühlenpfordt’s view of the Seri and the Tiburon islanders as enemies seems unfounded, but not entirely unreasonable. Firstly, earlier literature shows that the term Seri (Seris, Ceris, Heris, etc.) was an outsider label that was loosely applied, likely used at times to refer to wandering nomads, regardless of their actual relationships. Additionally, there’s clear evidence that in many cases, Seri convert-captives connected to the missions and pueblos were often seen as traitors and outlaws whose lives were considered forfeit. Furthermore, the area where Herr Mühlenpfordt got his information has always been rich with stories, where frequent exaggeration and occasional fabrication obscure and distort the straightforward facts.

In 1850, Don Diego Lavandera transmitted to the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics, through the hands of Señor José F. Ramirez, certain documents, accompanied by a note to the effect that “The tribe of the Seris speak Arabic, and it is understood by the Moors at the first interview”—this note merely expressing a prevailing current opinion. Undertaking to test the opinion, Señor Ramirez sent to Lavandera, in Sonora, a number of words in three Arabic dialects, at the same time asking for the Seri equivalents; and the inquiry yielded a Seri vocabulary (probably the first ever printed) of eleven words. Of these none show the slightest affinity with the Arabic dialects; at least four (horse, chamber, population, wine) express concepts alien to the Seri; and only three or four can be identified with Seri terms recorded in later vocabularies. No reference is made to Señor Lavandera’s aboriginal informant; but there is a strong presumption that it was the official interpreter at Hermosillo and Pueblo Seri—a presumption 96 warranted by coincident historical records and statements of contemporaries still living, to the effect (1) that an official interpreter was there then and for a long time later, (2) that neither then nor later were there other Seri representatives able to furnish vocabularies at Hermosillo, Pueblo Seri, or other towns, and (3) that at that time (as at most others) the relations between the Seri and the whites were such as to prevent amicable communication through casual meeting or otherwise.

In 1850, Don Diego Lavandera sent certain documents to the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics through Señor José F. Ramirez, along with a note stating that "The tribe of the Seris speaks Arabic, and the Moors understand it at the first meeting"—this note simply reflecting a common belief at the time. To test this belief, Señor Ramirez sent Lavandera in Sonora a list of words in three Arabic dialects, asking for the Seri equivalents. The inquiry resulted in a Seri vocabulary (likely the first ever published) consisting of eleven words. None of these words show any connection to the Arabic dialects; at least four (horse, chamber, population, wine) refer to concepts unfamiliar to the Seri, and only three or four can be matched with Seri terms found in later vocabularies. There is no mention of Señor Lavandera’s native informant; however, there is considerable evidence suggesting it was the official interpreter in Hermosillo and Pueblo Seri—this assumption is supported by coinciding historical records and statements from contemporaries still living, indicating that (1) there was an official interpreter present then and for many years afterward, (2) that there were no other Seri representatives able to provide vocabularies in Hermosillo, Pueblo Seri, or other towns, and (3) that during that time (as in most others), the relationship between the Seri and the whites was such that it hindered friendly communication through casual meetings or otherwise.

Proceeding with his discussion, Señor Ramirez sought to correct the allegation of Abbé Hervas that “in the mission of Belen live three nations, called Hiaqui, Seri, and Guaima, who speak three different languages.” After quoting a Jesuit manuscript of July, 1730, reporting that “the language of the Seris is the same as that of the Guaimas”, he added a significant statement contained in a manuscript report from the Bishop of Sonora, directed to Don José de Galvez, under date of September 20, 1784, concerning the mission of Belen: “Two nations of Indians, Pimas Bajos and Guaimas, live united, the latter having abandoned their pueblo under the continuous assaults of the Seris. The Pimas use their own language.... The Guaimas use their ancient language.” Summarizing the evidence (of course secondhand and derived from the observations and reports of the missionaries), Señor Ramirez held as proved, first, “the existence of two diverse languages at the mission of Belen—that of the Guaimas and that of the Pimas Bajos”; and second, that “the Guaimas and the Seri are the same”.175 It would appear that Señor Ramirez hardly appreciated the significance of the statement of sixty-four years before that the Guayma were still using their “ancient” language, with the implication that they were acquiring familiarity with the Piman tongue—a familiarity that may well have misled later inquirers.

Continuing his discussion, Señor Ramirez aimed to clarify Abbé Hervas's claim that “in the mission of Belen live three nations, called Hiaqui, Seri, and Guaima, who speak three different languages.” After referencing a Jesuit manuscript from July 1730, which stated that “the language of the Seris is the same as that of the Guaimas,” he added an important comment from a manuscript report by the Bishop of Sonora, addressed to Don José de Galvez, dated September 20, 1784, regarding the mission of Belen: “Two nations of Indians, Pimas Bajos and Guaimas, live together, the latter having left their pueblo due to constant attacks from the Seris. The Pimas speak their own language.... The Guaimas speak their ancient language.” Summarizing the evidence (which was, of course, secondhand and based on the observations and reports of the missionaries), Señor Ramirez concluded that, first, “there are two distinct languages at the mission of Belen—that of the Guaimas and that of the Pimas Bajos”; and second, that “the Guaimas and the Seri are the same.”175 It seems that Señor Ramirez did not fully recognize the importance of the statement made sixty-four years earlier that the Guaima were still using their “ancient” language, suggesting that they were becoming familiar with the Piman language—a familiarity that may have misled later researchers.


It is just to say that scientific knowledge of the Seri began with the visit to Hermosillo of United States Boundary Commissioner John Russell Bartlett, on December 31, 1851. True, Commissioner Bartlett approached no nearer Seriland than Hermosillo and Guaymas, and saw but a single Seri; yet he obtained an excellent vocabulary and considerable collateral information from this Indian. According to this information—

It is fair to say that scientific understanding of the Seri started with the visit to Hermosillo by United States Boundary Commissioner John Russell Bartlett on December 31, 1851. While Commissioner Bartlett never ventured beyond Hermosillo and Guaymas, and only met one Seri individual, he managed to gather a great vocabulary and a significant amount of related information from this person. Based on this information—

The Ceris tribe of Indians, with the exception of those which are christianized and reside in the village near Hermosillo, occupy the island of Tiburon in the Gulf of California, north of Guaymas. Although believed not to number over 100 warriors, they have long been the dread of the Mexicans between Guaymas and Hermosillo, as well as the country to the north, on account of their continual depredations and murders. Their practice is to lie in wait near the traveled roads, and there surprise small and unprotected parties. Their place of abode being on an island or the shores adjacent, and their subsistence being chiefly gained by fishing, they have no desire to steal animals, which would be of no use to them; nor do they take any prisoners. To murder and plunder small parties of Mexicans seems 97 to be their only aim, and every arrow or lance thrown by the Ceris that pierces the skin causes death, as all are poisoned. Many expeditions, fitted out at a great expense, have been sent against them; but, though commanded by competent officers, all have failed. The number being so small, they manage when pursued to conceal themselves where they can not be found. The island of Tiburon, as well as the mainland adjacent, is exceedingly barren and destitute of water; hence parties have suffered greatly in the campaigns against them, without accomplishing anything. I was told that the Government had already expended more than $1,000 for every male of the tribe. The last serious attack of these people was made upon a gentleman traveling to Guaymas in his carriage with his family and attendants, embracing 16 persons. They were surprised in an unfrequented place and every soul put to death.176

The Ceris tribe of Indians, except for those who are Christians living in the village near Hermosillo, reside on Tiburon Island in the Gulf of California, north of Guaymas. Even though they probably have fewer than 100 warriors, they've long been feared by Mexicans between Guaymas and Hermosillo and in the northern region due to their persistent attacks and killings. They usually wait near frequented roads to ambush small and vulnerable groups. Living on an island or nearby shores and mainly depending on fishing for food, they have no interest in stealing livestock, which wouldn’t benefit them; nor do they take prisoners. Their primary goal appears to be to kill and rob small groups of Mexicans, and any arrow or spear thrown by the Ceris that strikes flesh causes death, as all their weapons are poisoned. Many costly expeditions have been sent against them, but even when led by skilled commanders, all have failed. Despite their small numbers, they can hide effectively when being pursued. Both Tiburon Island and the nearby mainland are extremely barren and lack water, so expeditionary groups have suffered greatly during campaigns against them without achieving any success. I was told that the government has already spent over $1,000 for every male in the tribe. The last major attack by these people happened against a gentleman traveling to Guaymas in his carriage with his family and attendants, totaling 16 individuals. They were ambushed in a remote area, and every person was killed.

Commissioner Bartlett quoted Hardy’s description of the arrow poison, and, speaking of the Seri tongue, added:

Commissioner Bartlett quoted Hardy's description of the arrow poison and, talking about the Seri language, added:

I found it an extremely harsh language, very difficult to express with our letters, and totally different from any aboriginal tongue I had heard spoken; ... but it was impossible for me, without a close philological comparison with other Indian languages, to arrive at any correct conclusion as to whether this people are allied or not to other aboriginal tribes.

I found it to be an extremely tough language, really hard to express with our alphabet, and completely different from any native language I had heard spoken; ... but it was impossible for me, without a thorough linguistic comparison with other Indigenous languages, to come to any accurate conclusion about whether this group is related to other native tribes or not.

He also referred to a prevalent notion that “the Ceris were of Asiatic origin, in proof of which some statements were made too improbable to repeat. This idea seems to have originated from the resemblance between their name and that given by the ancients to the Chinese.”

He also mentioned a common belief that “the Ceris were of Asian origin, with some claims made that are too unrealistic to mention. This notion appears to have come from the similarity between their name and the name the ancients used for the Chinese.”

In order to obtain a Seri vocabulary, Commissioner Bartlett had a messenger dispatched “to a pueblo or village of these Indians near Hermosillo. The person sent for made his appearance in a few hours”; he was “a good-looking man, about 30 years of age. His complexion was fair, and resembled that of an Asiatic rather than an American Indian. His cheek bones were high, and his head round and well formed, though the anterior portion was somewhat angular and prominent. His hair was short, straight, and black. He was a full-blooded Ceris, and came originally from the island of Tiburon. In about three hours I completed the vocabulary quite satisfactorily to myself.”177 The vocabulary was not printed with the narrative; nor were references made to the Seri population, either in the pueblo or in Seriland.

To get a Seri vocabulary, Commissioner Bartlett sent a messenger to a nearby pueblo or village of these Indians close to Hermosillo. The person sent arrived in a few hours; he was a good-looking man, around 30 years old. His complexion was fair and resembled that of an Asian rather than an American Indian. He had high cheekbones, and his head was round and well-shaped, although the front portion was somewhat angular and prominent. His hair was short, straight, and black. He was a full-blooded Ceris and originally came from the island of Tiburon. In about three hours, I created the vocabulary to my satisfaction.177 The vocabulary was not published along with the narrative, nor were there any mentions of the Seri population in the pueblo or in Seriland.

While the vocabulary was not published by Commissioner Bartlett, it was preserved and passed into the hands of George Gibbs, who made a systematic transcript;178 this came into possession of Dr Albert S. Gatschet, and a copy is preserved in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. The name of the native informant is not recorded, but fortunately he was found still living, and was fully identified, during the expeditions of 1894 and 1895—especially toward the end of the 98 latter, when, on January 4, 1896, he was employed as an informant. He was then a fine-looking man of noble stature and figure, and of notably dignified air and manner, dressed in conventional attire; his hair was luxuriant, iron-gray in color, and trimmed in Mexican fashion. His looks indicated an age of about 70, but in his own opinion (which was corroborated by that of Señor Pascual Encinas and other old acquaintances) he was at least 75. His movements were vigorous, his eyes clear and bright, his vision good, and, except for hardly perceptible imperfection of hearing, he was in full possession of normal faculties. He was in the employ of the state as a trustworthy attaché of the governor’s palacio, where his services were nominal; his real function was that of a Seri interpreter in case of need; and on the day specified he was temporarily assigned to the service of the expedition by His Excellency Governor Corral. By Mexican acquaintances he was commonly called Fernando, though he called himself Kolusio, sometimes using the former designation as a forename; he was also known as “El General” (= Chief), or “El General de los Seris”. He had a vague memory of Tiburon island, which he left in childhood (at about 6 years of age, according to his estimate) and had never revisited, though he had been on the Seri border so late as 1870. Except when temporarily at Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, he had lived in Pueblo Seri, usually reporting in Hermosillo daily for such duty as might be assigned to him at the palacio. He was aware that he was regarded as a tribal outlaw, and admitted that no consideration could induce him to approach Seriland, since he would be slain by his tribesmen more eagerly than any alien; indeed, he hardly dared venture so far westward as Molino del Encinas, in the outskirts of Hermosillo, and only did so in daylight or in company of others. His few kinsfolk in Pueblo Seri had died or deserted so long before that he had forgotten names and dates; and, as he remarked with half-realized pathos, he had been alone amid aliens for very many years (“muy muchos años”). The linguistic inquiries put to him reminded him of previous interrogations of the sort, and he voluntarily described the visit of a distinguished American who, a long time ago (more than 40 years, he thought), came down from Ures, with many books and papers, and spent New Year’s day in interrogating him about his language and his people. He was much impressed with the ability displayed by the “Gringo muy grande” in writing the terms and afterward repronouncing them properly; and he described the visitor as appearing very pale and sick (“muy palido y malo”), and under the necessity of frequently resting and taking medicine, and also as having wavy hair, worn so long as to hang down over the neck and shoulders. He could not recall that he had ever heard the American’s name; but his description pointed clearly to Commissioner Bartlett, who had risen from a sick-bed at Ures and was on his way to Guaymas to get the benefit of a sea voyage, and who wore his hair long during a part or all of his expedition (as was subsequently 99 ascertained by extended inquiry). Kolusio also remembered “giving his language” (a bold if not sacrilegious act, according to his view) to two or three other persons, (one “not a Mexicano” though speaking Spanish, none “Americano”179); but the first-mentioned instance was the one most deeply impressed on his mind. At this time (1896) he retained a working knowledge of the Seri tongue, and was able to serve satisfactorily as a Spanish-Seri interpreter; yet careful test showed that he had forgotten numerous native terms, and sometimes inadvertently substituted other Indian (Yaqui, Papago, and probably Opata) and Spanish words; while he knew so little of the tribal customs and beliefs that inquiries pertaining to them were too nearly fruitless to be long pursued. Undoubtedly his knowledge of the Seri tongue was fresher and fuller in 1852; but since he was practically isolated from his tribe in early childhood, he probably never possessed much information concerning the esoteric characters of his people.

While Commissioner Bartlett didn't publish the vocabulary, it was preserved and passed to George Gibbs, who systematically transcribed it. This eventually came into the possession of Dr. Albert S. Gatschet, and a copy is kept in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. The name of the native informant isn't recorded, but luckily, he was still alive and was fully identified during the expeditions of 1894 and 1895—especially toward the end of the latter, when he was employed as an informant on January 4, 1896. At that time, he was a strikingly handsome man of impressive stature, with a notably dignified demeanor, dressed in typical clothing; his hair was thick, iron-gray, and styled in the Mexican way. He looked around 70, but in his own estimation (which was supported by Señor Pascual Encinas and other old friends) he was at least 75. His movements were lively, his eyes bright and clear, his vision good, and, aside from a barely noticeable issue with his hearing, he was otherwise fully alert. He worked for the state as a reliable aide for the governor, although his actual role was mainly as a Seri interpreter when needed; on that particular day, he was temporarily assigned to assist the expedition by Governor Corral. His Mexican acquaintances usually called him Fernando, although he referred to himself as Kolusio, sometimes using the former as a first name; he was also known as “El General” (Chief) or “El General de los Seris.” He vaguely remembered Tiburon Island, which he had left as a child (around 6 years old, by his own estimate) and had never returned to, although he had been near the Seri border as recently as 1870. Apart from brief stays at Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica, he had lived in Pueblo Seri, regularly reporting to Hermosillo for duties assigned at the palacio. He knew he was seen as a tribal outlaw and admitted that nothing could persuade him to approach Seriland, as his own tribe would be more eager to kill him than any outsider; in fact, he hardly dared to go as far west as Molino del Encinas, on the outskirts of Hermosillo, only doing so during the day or in the company of others. His few relatives in Pueblo Seri had either died or abandoned him so long ago that he had forgotten their names and dates; as he remarked with a hint of sadness, he had been alone among strangers for many years (“muy muchos años”). The questions about language reminded him of earlier inquiries, and he willingly recounted a visit from a notable American who, over 40 years ago, came down from Ures with many books and papers, spending New Year’s Day interviewing him about his language and people. He was quite impressed by the “Gringo muy grande” for his ability to write down the terms and accurately pronounce them later; he described the visitor as looking very pale and ill (“muy palido y malo”), needing to rest often and take medicine, and noted his long, wavy hair that hung down over his neck and shoulders. He couldn’t recall the American’s name but his description clearly pointed to Commissioner Bartlett, who had gotten up from a sickbed at Ures and was heading to Guaymas for a sea voyage, and who wore his hair long during part or all of the expedition (as was found out later through extensive inquiry). Kolusio also remembered “giving his language” (an audacious, if not blasphemous act in his eyes) to two or three other people, one of whom “wasn’t a Mexicano” but spoke Spanish, and none were “Americano.” However, the first instance remained the most deeply etched in his memory. At that time (1896), he still had a working knowledge of the Seri language and was able to serve as a Spanish-Seri interpreter; yet careful testing showed that he had forgotten many native terms and sometimes unintentionally swapped in words from other Indian languages (Yaqui, Papago, and likely Opata) and Spanish; meanwhile, he knew so little about the tribal customs and beliefs that inquiries about them couldn’t be pursued for long without becoming nearly fruitless. His knowledge of the Seri language was likely fresher and richer in 1852; however, having been practically separated from his tribe since early childhood, he probably never had much information about his people's esoteric traditions.

The next noteworthy scientific student of the Seri was Johann Carl Eduard Buschmann, who visited various Mexican tribes, but whose knowledge of the Seri was wholly secondhand. Quoting Villa-Señor and Arrecivita and other early writers, noting unfortunate passages from Bartlett, and magnifying Mühlenpfordt’s misapprehensions into positive error, he reduced knowledge of this and neighboring tribes to chaos. The “Guaymas” were separated from the “Seris (oder Seres)”, and these (at least by implication) from the “Tiburones”, while the “Piatos” were combined with the Seri, the traditional alliance with the Apache was greatly overdrawn, and the “Heri oder Heris” and the “Tepocas” were treated as distinct.180 No new facts were adduced, no use was made of local sources of information, and no notice was taken of other than literary data.

The next significant scientific researcher of the Seri was Johann Carl Eduard Buschmann, who visited various Mexican tribes but only had secondhand knowledge of the Seri. He quoted Villa-Señor and Arrecivita, along with other early writers, pointing out unfortunate references from Bartlett, and exaggerated Mühlenpfordt’s misunderstandings into outright mistakes, which led to confusion about this and nearby tribes. The “Guaymas” were separated from the “Seris (oder Seres),” and these were (at least by implication) distinguished from the “Tiburones,” while the “Piatos” were grouped with the Seri. The traditional connection with the Apache was greatly exaggerated, and the “Heri oder Heris” and the “Tepocas” were considered separate. 180 No new facts were presented, no local sources of information were utilized, and only literary data was taken into account.

In 1857 the gigantic surveying enterprise of Jecker & Co. was undertaken, under a concession from the Government of Mexico, and the scientific surveys were intrusted to a commission headed by El Capitan Carlos Stone (General Charles Pomeroy Stone, U. S. A.). The commission headquartered at Guaymas, purchased vessels for the survey of the coast, and began operations also in the interior; Bahia Pinacati and George island (named by Hardy in 1826) were surveyed, as well as the entire Sonoran coast south of Guaymas, and “one hundred miles of coast near Tiburon”, besides many hundred square miles of valuable lands. At this stage friction developed between the progressive commission and the conservative Sonorenses, which ended in the expulsion of the scientific commission by the State government.181 By reason of the 100 premature termination of the work, few of the observations and other results were ever published. General Stone himself traveled extensively in Sonora, and delved deeply in the historical records of northern Mexico; and, while there is no indication that he ever came in personal contact with the Seri, he collected and sifted current local information relating to the tribe with notable acumen. In certain “Notes” prepared in Washington in December, 1860, he wrote:

In 1857, the huge surveying project by Jecker & Co. was started under a concession from the Government of Mexico, with the scientific surveys assigned to a commission led by Captain Carlos Stone (General Charles Pomeroy Stone, U.S.A.). The commission, based in Guaymas, bought vessels for surveying the coast and also ventured into the interior; Bahia Pinacati and George Island (named by Hardy in 1826) were surveyed, along with the entire Sonoran coast south of Guaymas, and “one hundred miles of coast near Tiburon,” in addition to hundreds of square miles of valuable land. At this point, tension arose between the progressive commission and the conservative Sonorenses, leading to the expulsion of the scientific commission by the state government.181 Due to the premature end of the work, few of the observations and other results were ever published. General Stone himself traveled extensively in Sonora and explored the historical records of northern Mexico; while there's no sign he ever met the Seri, he gathered and analyzed local information about the tribe with remarkable insight. In some “Notes” prepared in Washington in December 1860, he wrote:

The Ceris are a peculiar tribe of Indians occupying the island of Tiburon and the neighboring coast. They are yet in a perfectly savage state, and live solely by fishing and hunting. Having been at war with the whites from the time of the first missions, they have become reduced in numbers to about 300, counting some 80 warriors. They are of large stature, well made, and athletic. In war and in the chase they make use of poisoned arrows, the wounds from which are almost always fatal. In preparing the poison, it is said they procure the liver of a deer or cow, and by irritating rattlesnakes and scorpions with it, cause it to be struck by a great many of these reptiles. They then hang up the mass to putrefy in a bag, and in the drippings of this bag they soak their arrowheads. I can not vouch for the truth of this statement, but it is current in Sonora. I was informed by a gentleman in Hermosillo that one of his servants, who was slightly shot by a Ceri’s arrow, died quickly from the effect of the wound (which mortified almost immediately) in spite of the best medical treatment. Their language is guttural, and very different from any other Indian idiom in Sonora. It is said that on one occasion some of these Indians passed by a shop in Guaymas, where some Welsh sailors were talking, and on hearing the Welsh language spoken, stopped, listened, and appeared much interested, declaring that those white men were their brothers, for they had a tongue like their own. They are very filthy in their habits, and are said to be worshipers of the moon.182

The Ceris are a distinctive tribe of Indigenous people living on Tiburon Island and the nearby coast. They remain entirely wild and depend solely on fishing and hunting for survival. Since their first encounters with white settlers, they've been at war, leading to a significant decline in their population, which now stands at about 300 individuals, including around 80 warriors. They are tall, strong, and athletic. In battle and during hunts, they utilize poisoned arrows, with wounds from these arrows almost always being fatal. It's said that to create the poison, they take the liver of a deer or cow and provoke rattlesnakes and scorpions with it, causing many of these creatures to strike. They then let the mixture decompose in a bag and soak their arrowheads in the drippings from this bag. I can't verify if this is accurate, but it's a widely shared story in Sonora. A man in Hermosillo mentioned that one of his servants was slightly grazed by a Ceri's arrow and died swiftly from the wound (which became infected almost immediately), despite receiving the best medical attention. Their language is guttural and quite different from any other Indigenous language in Sonora. There's a story that at one point, some of these Indians passed by a store in Guaymas where Welsh sailors were talking. Upon hearing Welsh, they stopped to listen and seemed very intrigued, claiming that the white men were their brothers because they spoke a language that resembled theirs. They are said to have very unclean habits and are known to worship the moon.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Another Mexican traveler of note who collected local and contemporary information concerning the Seri, though enjoying no more than slight inimical contact with them, was Herr Clemens A. Pajeken, of Bremen (for some time a resident of California). He classed as wild Indians (“Wilde Indianer, Indios broncos”) the Seri and Apache tribes. Of the former he wrote:

Another notable Mexican traveler who gathered local and modern information about the Seri, despite having only minimal hostile interactions with them, was Herr Clemens A. Pajeken from Bremen (who lived in California for a while). He referred to the Seri and Apache tribes as wild Indians (“Wilde Indianer, Indios broncos”). About the former, he wrote:

Ceris. This is a small tribe, their number not exceeding 400 souls, or rather head [dessen Seelenzahl oder besser Kopfzahl]; yet the government of the State could not restrain this little band of robbers and marauders that for more than twenty years have perpetrated their atrocities on travelers between the port of Guaymas and the city of Hermosillo, the metropolis of the State.... The Ceris appear not to grasp the idea that they are human. Like the prey-beasts of the wilderness, they go out to slay men and animals, sparing only their own kind. In many respects they are viler than the beasts, since they slay without need merely to satisfy a lust for slaughter. They are not only the stupidest and laziest of the Indians of Sonora, but also the most treacherous and deceitful. During the Spanish rule, from the time the first visit was made to lead them toward social life, they have rebelled more than forty times. Only a couple of families [ein paar Familien] still reside in the village [Pueblo Seri], where they make ollas and subsist on the offal of the shambles. The proper home of these barbarians is the island of Tiburon and the adjacent coasts, whither they return after their outbreaks, although it is an incredibly desert region. Thence they repair to the highways to kill travelers and arrieros, 101 or to the ranges to steal cattle. They confine themselves to the bow and arrow, and the latter are poisoned, so that every wound made by them is deadly, or at best highly dangerous. On my second journey into the interior of the country my horse received an arrow in the hip; the arrow, which entered 4 inches, could not be withdrawn until the following day; and for seven months the wound suppurated.... Their chief food consists of oysters, mussels, snakes, with fish and other sea food, which they consume entirely raw and which surrounds them with an intolerable stench; though this may be partly due to their exceeding uncleanliness, since the process of washing is wholly unknown to them. Their clothing consists of a kilt of pelican skin. They tattoo their faces, and some pierce their noses to insert a certain green stone [obsidian]. They are of dark copper color, large and strongly built. Although in their faces no human sentiments can be discerned, yet they can not be called ugly. Their limbs are so beautifully proportioned that the Spanish ladies in Hermosillo view with envy the slender shapes and the comely hands and feet of the young Ceris maidens. They wear no headdresses, and as their coarse, shaggy hair is neither combed nor cleaned, it sticks out in tangled tufts in all directions like spines on a hedgehog; this alone gives them a forbidding appearance. Their speech is quite like their character; it is guttural, discordant, and meager, resembling more the howling of wild animals than human speech, wherefore it is difficult for a human to learn. They have no religion—at least, I do not deem the gambols and amusing capers in which they indulge at the new moon to be religious customs. The tribe is constantly diminishing in numbers, and it is hoped they may soon disappear from the earth by natural decrease—unless the State government sooner undertakes a war of extermination.183

The Ceris. This is a small tribe, with no more than 400 members, yet the state has struggled to control this little group of thieves and raiders who have been wreaking havoc on travelers between the port of Guaymas and the city of Hermosillo, the state capital, for over twenty years. The Ceris seem to not recognize their humanity. Like wild animals, they hunt and kill both people and livestock, only sparing their own kind. In many ways, they are worse than beasts since they kill without need, driven by a desire for violence. They are not only the laziest and least intelligent of the Sonoran Indians but also the most treacherous and deceptive. Since the start of Spanish rule, when efforts were first made to lead them toward a civilized life, they have revolted over forty times. Only a few families still live in the village, where they make pottery and survive on scraps from the slaughterhouse. Their true home is the island of Tiburon and the nearby coasts, to which they return after their raids, even though it’s a very barren area. From there, they go to the roads to attack travelers and freight handlers or to the hills to steal cattle. They use only bows and arrows, and the arrows are poisoned, making any injury from them deadly or at least extremely dangerous. On my second trip into the region, my horse was wounded by an arrow in the hip; it penetrated four inches and couldn’t be removed until the next day, and for seven months the wound festered. Their main food consists of oysters, mussels, snakes, fish, and other seafood, which they eat completely raw, creating a terrible smell that might also be attributed to their extreme lack of hygiene, as they don't know how to wash. They wear skirts made of pelican skin. They tattoo their faces, and some pierce their noses to insert a green stone. They have a dark copper skin tone and are large and strong. While their faces show no human emotions, they can’t be called ugly. Their bodies are so well-proportioned that Spanish ladies in Hermosillo envy the slim figures and attractive hands and feet of the young Ceris women. They don’t wear headdresses, and their coarse, shaggy hair, which is neither combed nor cleaned, sticks out in tangled tufts all around, giving them a frightening look. Their speech reflects their character; it’s guttural, jarring, and poor, sounding more like the howling of wild animals than human language, making it difficult for anyone to learn. They have no religion—at least, I don’t consider their antics and playful behavior during the new moon to be religious practices. The tribe is steadily declining in numbers, and there’s hope that they will soon vanish from the earth through natural attrition—unless the state government decides to carry out an extermination campaign first.

Herr Pajeken’s record bears inherent evidence (at least to one familiar with the region) of reflecting the current local knowledge and opinion concerning the Seri with unsurpassed—indeed unequaled—fidelity; and it is also of value in that it indicates the approximate number of the tribe then surviving in Pueblo Seri, and in that it gives the contemporary estimate of the tribal population.

Herr Pajeken’s record clearly shows (at least to someone familiar with the area) that it reflects the current local knowledge and opinions about the Seri with unmatched—truly unparalleled—accuracy. Additionally, it’s valuable because it indicates the approximate number of the tribe that was still alive in Pueblo Seri and provides a contemporary estimate of the tribal population.

Among the more careful students of the Seri at second hand should be mentioned Buckingham Smith, an enthusiastic collector, translator, and publisher of rare Americana. In the introduction to an anonymous and dateless grammar of the Heve language he wrote in 1861:

Among the more diligent students of the Seri through secondary sources should be mentioned Buckingham Smith, an avid collector, translator, and publisher of rare Americana. In the introduction to an anonymous and undated grammar of the Heve language he wrote in 1861:

The lower Pima are in the west of the province [of Sonora], having many towns extending to the frontier of the indomitable Seri, who live some 30 leagues to the north of the mouth of the Hiaqui, and have their farthest limit inland some dozen leagues from the sea, finding shelter among the ridges and in the neighboring island of Tiburon.

The lower Pima are situated in the western region of Sonora, with many towns extending to the border of the fierce Seri, who reside about 30 leagues north of where the Hiaqui River flows into the sea. Their farthest inland point is about twelve leagues from the coast, where they find shelter among the hills and the nearby island of Tiburon.

He added in a note:

He added in a note:

The Guaima speak nearly the same language as the Seri, are few in number, and live among the Hiaqui in Belen and elsewhere, having retreated before the sanguinary fury of their conquerors.184

The Guaima speak a language that is very similar to the Seri, are few in number, and live with the Hiaqui in Belen and other areas, having retreated due to the fierce aggression of their conquerors.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

While the scientific knowledge of the Seri began with Bartlett’s visit, it assumed definite shape only through the classic researches of Don Francisco Pimentel (Count Herras) in the early sixties. His analysis and classification of the Seri tongue rest on a short vocabulary 102 collected by Señor D. A. Tenochio and transmitted to the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics. Noting the condition of the tribe at the time, Señor Pimentel wrote:

While the scientific understanding of the Seri started with Bartlett’s visit, it really took shape through the groundbreaking research of Don Francisco Pimentel (Count Herras) in the early sixties. His analysis and classification of the Seri language are based on a brief vocabulary collected by Señor D. A. Tenochio and sent to the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics. Observing the state of the tribe at that time, Señor Pimentel wrote: 102

The Seris are now reduced to a few families only, inhabiting Sonora, especially the island of Tiburon, for which reason they are also known sometimes by the name Tiburones. The Indians called Salineros, who live on the borders of Pimeria Alta, and the Tepocas, who live toward the south, belong to the Seri nation. The Seris have always been notable for their ferocity and barbarism, preferring death in war against the whites to the adoption of civilization. They are dreaded and notorious for their arrows, poisoned with a most virulent venom [emponzoñadas con activísimo veneno]. They are tall and well formed, and their women are good-looking. By reason of their distrust of the whites, it has not been possible to ascertain their traditions, farther than that their ancestors came from distant lands of unknown direction. Of their religion it is known that they adore daily the rising sun.185

The Seris are now down to just a few families living in Sonora, especially on Tiburon Island; because of this, they are sometimes called Tiburones. The Indians known as Salineros, who live along the borders of Pimeria Alta, and the Tepocas, who are further south, are part of the Seri nation. The Seris have always been known for their fierceness and brutality, preferring death in battle against white people over adopting a civilized lifestyle. They are feared and notorious for their arrows, which are poisoned with a highly deadly venom. They are tall and strong, and their women are attractive. Due to their mistrust of outsiders, it has been hard to learn about their traditions, except that their ancestors came from distant lands of unknown direction. It is known that they worship the rising sun every day.

After brief discussion of the grammar, and extended comparison of some sixty out of the seventy vocables selected by Señor Tenochio, he concluded:

After a short discussion on grammar and a lengthy comparison of around sixty of the seventy words chosen by Señor Tenochio, he concluded:

Although in the list of Seri words consulted the foregoing reveal analogies with those of the Mexican group, there are, without doubt, other terms belonging exclusively to the Seri or some other branch extraneous to the Mexican group; for this reason it would appear that the idiom represents a distinct family.186

While the list of Seri words examined has similarities to those from the Mexican group, there are certainly other terms that are exclusive to the Seri or some other branch that is not related to the Mexican group. Therefore, it appears that the language represents a distinct family.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The list of these distinct words was appended. Referring to the dialects, Señor Pimentel expressed the opinion, based on literary references, that the “Guayma” or “Gayama”, “Upanguaima”, and “Cocomaques” may be considered as belonging to the Seri family.187

The list of these distinct words was added. Talking about the dialects, Mr. Pimentel shared his view, based on literary references, that the “Guayma” or “Gayama”, “Upanguaima”, and “Cocomaques” can be seen as part of the Seri family.187

While Señor Pimentel gave credit to his informant, Señor Tenochio, he did not indicate the original source of the vocabulary; but the source may be defined approximately by a process of elimination: there is hardly a possibility that the terms were obtained from any tribesmen in Seriland, since they were all inimical to the whites, and since very few of them have ever known enough of the Spanish tongue to permit communication with the Mexicans; accordingly, it is practically certain that the Seri interpreter must have been either (1) a resident of Pueblo Seri or (2) an attaché of rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica (of which more anon); and in either case it would seem certain that the native informant could have been none other than the standard Seri-Spanish interpreter of the last half century—Kolusio. Indeed, Kolusio was, at the time, the only Seri habitué of Pueblo Seri possessing sufficient knowledge of the Spanish and enough intelligence and independence to “give his language”, and was one of the two frequenters of the rancho similarly equipped.

While Señor Pimentel credited his informant, Señor Tenochio, he didn’t mention where the vocabulary originally came from; however, we can roughly identify the source by eliminating options: it's unlikely that the terms were taken from any tribesmen in Seriland, as they were generally hostile to the whites, and very few of them knew enough Spanish to communicate with the Mexicans. Therefore, it’s almost certain that the Seri interpreter must have been either (1) a resident of Pueblo Seri or (2) someone associated with rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica (more on that later); in either case, it’s clear that the native informant could only be the standard Seri-Spanish interpreter of the last fifty years—Kolusio. In fact, at that time, Kolusio was the only Seri regular at Pueblo Seri with enough Spanish knowledge, intelligence, and independence to “give his language,” and he was one of just two frequenters of the rancho with similar qualifications.

Pimentel’s contemporary, Licenciate Manuel Orozco y Berra, contributed in important measure to systematic knowledge of the Seri, which 103 he defined (apparently on the basis of the Tenochio vocabulary systemized and published by Pimentel) as a distinct linguistic family with two dialectic branches,188 viz.:

Pimentel’s peer, Licenciate Manuel Orozco y Berra, significantly contributed to the organized understanding of the Seri, which 103 he defined (seemingly based on the Tenochio vocabulary systematized and published by Pimentel) as a separate linguistic family with two dialect branches, 188 namely:

IX FAMILIA.—SÉRI.

XXXIII. Séri, por los séris, céris, tiburones, tepocas, salineros, en Sonora.

33. Séri, by the Séris, céris, sharks, tepocas, saliners, in Sonora.

61. I. Upanguaima, por los upanguaimas, en Sonora.

61. I. Upanguaima, for the upanguaimas, in Sonora.

62. II. Guaima, por los guaimas, guaymas, gayamas, cocomaques, en Sonora.

62. II. Guaima, by the guaimas, guaymas, gayamas, cocomaques, in Sonora.

Orozco’s map assigns to the Seri family an immense area (recalling Villa-Señor’s “despoblado”) extending from just above the mouth of the Yaqui, northward to the thirtieth parallel on the coast, stretching inland nearly to Cucurpe, Opodepe, and Ures, and including Tiburon; the “Salineros” lying adjacent to the coast in the north, the “Tepocas” medially, and the “Guaymas” in the south, within this area. In elucidating the map he wrote, under the title “El séri.—El upanguaima.—El guaima”:

Orozco’s map gives the Seri family a huge area (similar to Villa-Señor’s “despoblado”) that stretches from just above the mouth of the Yaqui River, north to the thirtieth parallel along the coast, reaching inland almost to Cucurpe, Opodepe, and Ures, and including Tiburon. The “Salineros” are located next to the coast in the north, the “Tepocas” are in the middle, and the “Guaymas” are in the south, all within this region. In explaining the map, he wrote under the title “El séri.—El upanguaima.—El guaima”:

The Séris, a tribe inhabiting Sonora, forms, with its subtribes, a separate family. By their language, by their customs, and by their physiognomy, they are completely set apart from affiliation with the surrounding nations; and apparently they have lived in the district which they now occupy from times anterior to the establishment of the Pima race and its affines; their use of poisoned arrows recalls the Caribs of the islands, as well as of the continent, and it seems not unlikely, although very curious, that they are related to them. The Séris, known also as Tiburones, a name derived from the island of Tiburon in the Mar de Cortés, which serves them as a shelter, considered as parts of their tribe the Tepocas and the Salineros.

The Séris, a tribe in Sonora along with its subtribes, forms a unique group. Their language, customs, and appearance set them apart from the other nations around them. They seem to have been in their current area since before the Pima tribe and its relatives were established. Their use of poisoned arrows is similar to that of the Caribs from both the islands and the mainland, suggesting, although it's quite interesting, that they might have a connection to them. The Séris, also known as Tiburones—a name derived from Tiburon Island in the Sea of Cortés that offers them shelter—include the Tepocas and the Salineros as part of their tribe.

The “Upanguaima” (a very small tribe occupying the Seri border) and the “Guaimas”, as well as the “Cocomagues” were combined chiefly on the authority of Jesuit writers.189 In describing the State of Sonora he further wrote:

The “Upanguaima” (a very small tribe living along the Seri border) and the “Guaimas”, along with the “Cocomagues”, were primarily grouped together based on the accounts of Jesuit writers.189 In describing the State of Sonora, he added:

The Séris, bounded by the sea on the west, the Pimas Altos on the north, the Opatas and the Pimas Bajos on the east, and the pueblos of Rio Yaqui on the south, form the smallest nation of Sonora, but at the same time the most cruel and deceitful and the least capable of reduction to political organization. Hardly uniting with the smaller pueblos as at Populo and Belen, the rest of the nation engaged so constantly in cruel warfare that it was necessary to persecute and exterminate them.... Small as was the tribe, three divisions are known: the Salineros, extending to the confines of Pimeria Alta; south of them the Tepocas, nearest to the island of Tiburon; the Guaymas and Upanguaymas occupying the territory adjacent to the harbor of the same name, afterward added to the pueblo at Belen and blended with the Indians of Rio Yaqui. Ferocious and savage, they preferred to die in war against the whites rather than adopt their usages and customs; lazy and indolent, they so surrendered themselves to the passion of intoxication that mothers conveyed aguardiente from their mouths to the smallest babes. They are tall and well formed, the women not lacking in beauty. The poison with which they envenom their arrows is proverbial for deadly effect; they compound the venomous juice from a multitude of ingredients and fortify the compound by superstitious practices.190

The Séris, bordered by the sea to the west, the Pimas Altos to the north, the Opatas and the Pimas Bajos to the east, and the villages of Rio Yaqui to the south, make up the smallest nation in Sonora. However, they are also the most brutal and deceitful, and the least likely to be politically organized. They rarely united with smaller villages like Populo and Belen, and instead, the rest of the nation was constantly engaged in fierce warfare, making it necessary to hunt them down and eliminate them. Despite being a small tribe, three divisions are recognized: the Salineros, who reach the borders of Pimeria Alta; to the south, the Tepocas, closest to the island of Tiburon; and the Guaymas and Upanguaymas, who occupy the area near the harbor that shares their name, later joining with the pueblo at Belen and mixing with the Indians of Rio Yaqui. Fierce and wild, they preferred to die fighting against whites rather than adopt their ways and customs; lazy and complacent, they surrendered themselves to intoxication to the extent that mothers would pass liquor from their mouths to their infants. They are tall and well-built, and the women are quite attractive. The poison they use on their arrows is notorious for its deadly effects; they create the venomous mixture from various ingredients and enhance it through superstitious practices.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

104

104

The classifications by Pimentel and Orozco were widely accepted, and were given still wider currency by republication in standard works, such as the classic dictionary of the Nahuatl tongue by Rémi Siméon, in which is defined “La famille Seri, dans la Sonora, avec 3 idiomes: le Seri, le Guaima et l’Upanguaima.”191 In his ethnographic tableau of the nations and languages of Mexico, M. V. A. Malte-Brun followed Orozco almost literally, save that he emphasized the suggested Caribbean affiliation of the Seri, saying:

The classifications by Pimentel and Orozco were widely accepted and gained even more recognition when they were republished in standard works, like the classic dictionary of the Nahuatl language by Rémi Siméon, which defines “The family Seri, in Sonora, with 3 languages: Seri, Guaima, and Upanguaima.”191 In his ethnographic overview of the nations and languages of Mexico, M. V. A. Malte-Brun almost literally followed Orozco, except he highlighted the suggested Caribbean connection of the Seri, saying:

They make use of poisoned arrows, and when one studies their manners, their habits, their modes of life, one is tempted to find in them a strong affinity [grande affinité] with the Caribs of the continent and the islands.192

They use poisoned arrows, and when you examine their behavior, habits, and lifestyle, it's clear there's a strong link to the Caribs from the mainland and the islands.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

During the seventies Hubert Howe Bancroft was engaged in collecting material for his monumental series of works, and in arranging the ethnologic data for publication. Of the Seri he wrote:

During the seventies, Hubert Howe Bancroft was busy gathering material for his impressive series of works and organizing the ethnologic data for publication. Regarding the Seri, he wrote:

East of the Opata and Pima bajo, on the shores of the Gulf of California, and thence for some distance inland, and also on the island of Tiburon, the Ceri language with its dialects, the Guaymi and Tepoca, is spoken. Few of the words are known, and the excuse given by travelers for not taking vocabularies is, that it was too difficult to catch the sound. It is represented as extremely harsh and guttural in its pronunciation and well suited to the people who speak it, who are described as wild and fierce. It is, so far as known, not related to any of the Mexican linguistic families.193

East of the Opata and Pima bajo, along the Gulf of California's coast and extending some distance inland, as well as on Tiburon Island, the Ceri language and its dialects, Guaymi and Tepoca, are spoken. Very few words are recognized, and travelers often mention that they didn't bring vocabularies because the sounds were too difficult to understand. It's said to have a very harsh and guttural pronunciation, which matches the people who speak it, who are portrayed as wild and fierce. As far as anyone knows, it isn't related to any of the Mexican language families.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The only vocabulary of this language which Bancroft was able to find was added (without reference to the aboriginal source); it comprised the eleven words collected by Lavandera and discussed by Ramirez in 1850.194

The only vocabulary of this language that Bancroft could find was added (without mentioning the original source); it included the eleven words collected by Lavandera and talked about by Ramirez in 1850.194

The Seri, with their affines, the Tepoka, Salinero, Guayma, and Upanguayma, were included by Bancroft in his arbitrarily defined “Northern Mexican family”.195 The accompanying map (which is highly inaccurate) located the “Salineros” on the gulf coast, considerably north of the common embouchure of “R. de Horcasitas” and “Rio de Sonora”; while the “Seris” were more conspicuously represented about the broad estuary into which the rivers embouch, and the “Tepocas” were located still farther southward on both Tiburon and the mainland, the island being placed too far southward and the river much too far northward.196 Numerous data relating to the Seri were incorporated in his text; all were second-hand, though many were taken from unique or rare manuscripts. The coastwise natives of Sonora were said to “live on pulverized rush and straw, with fish caught at sea or in artificial enclosures”; mention was made of the allegation that “the Salineros 105 sometimes eat their own excrement”; anthropophagy was noted, but as pertaining rather to the interior than to the coastwise tribes;197 and prominence was given to the Seri arrow poison, of which an early author wrote:

The Seri, along with their relatives—the Tepoka, Salinero, Guayma, and Upanguayma—were categorized by Bancroft in his loosely defined “Northern Mexican family.” 195 The map that accompanied this was quite inaccurate, placing the “Salineros” on the Gulf Coast, much further north than the typical mouth of the “R. de Horcasitas” and “Rio de Sonora,” while the “Seris” were more prominently shown around the broad estuary where the rivers flow into the sea. The “Tepocas” were marked even further south on both Tiburon and the mainland, though the island was positioned too far south and the river too far north. 196 Various pieces of information about the Seri were included in his text; all were secondhand, yet many were sourced from unique or rare manuscripts. The coastal natives of Sonora were said to “live on ground rush and straw, along with fish caught at sea or in man-made enclosures.” It was mentioned that “the Salineros sometimes eat their own feces,” and there were notes on cannibalism, though this seemed more related to inland tribes rather than those along the coast. 197 Notably, emphasis was placed on the Seri arrow poison, about which an early writer remarked:

The poison with which they envenom the points of their arrows is the most active that has ever been known here.... It has not been possible to ascertain with certainty the deadly materials of which this pestilential compound is brewed. Many things are alleged, e. g., that it is made from the heads of vipers, irritated and decapitated at the moment of striking their teeth into a piece of lung or of half putrefied human flesh.

The poison they use to tip their arrows is the most powerful ever known in this area. It's been impossible to determine exactly what toxic substances comprise this dangerous concoction. There are various theories, including that it's made from the heads of venomous snakes that are provoked and beheaded just as they bite into a piece of lung or rotting human flesh.

Reference was made also to the “magot” (probably the yerba mala of the modern Mexicans) as a source of arrow poison.198 The girls’ puberty feast was said to be kept up for several days among the Seri and Tepoka, and the former were said to “superstitiously celebrate the new moon, and bow reverentially to the rising and setting sun”, and also to “employ charms in their medical practice”.199 Finally, the constituent tribes were discriminated in a manner recalling the persistent assumption that the parasite-converts at the missions fairly represented the Seri:

Reference was also made to the “magot” (likely the yerba mala of modern Mexicans) as a source of arrow poison.198 The girls’ puberty feast was said to last for several days among the Seri and Tepoka, and the former were described as “superstitiously celebrating the new moon and bowing respectfully to the rising and setting sun,” and also “using charms in their medical practice.”199 Finally, the different tribes were distinguished in a way that reflected the ongoing belief that the mission converts represented the Seri fairly:

The Tepocas and Tiburones are fierce, cruel, and treacherous, more warlike and courageous than the Ceris of the mainland, who are singularly devoid of good qualities, being sullenly stupid, lazy, inconstant, revengeful, depredating, and much given to intemperance. Their country even has become a refuge for evil doers. In former times they were warlike and brave, but even this quality they have lost, and have become as cowardly as they are cruel.200

The Tepocas and Tiburones are fierce, cruel, and untrustworthy, more aggressive and bold than the Ceris on the mainland, who lack good qualities and are mostly dull, lazy, unreliable, vengeful, destructive, and prone to excess. Their land has become a hideout for criminals. In the past, they were fierce and brave, but they've even lost that trait, becoming as cowardly as they are brutal.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

It is evident that this characterization of “the Ceris of the mainland” was based on the degraded scavengers outlawed by the tribe and attached to the missions and pueblos during much of the historical period.

It is clear that this description of “the Ceris of the mainland” was based on the degraded scavengers banned by the tribe and associated with the missions and villages for most of the historical period.

It was also during the seventies that the errors and uncertainties of three and a half centuries concerning the coasts of the Californian gulf were finally brought to an end through the surveys of Commander (now Admiral) George Dewey, U. S. N., and the officers of the United States ship Narragansett, under the direction of the Hydrographic Office of the United States. These surveys resulted in trustworthy and complete geodetic location of all coastwise features, in geographic placement of the entire coast-line, in soundings of such extent as to determine the bottom configuration, in tidal determinations, in recognition of the currents, in definition of harbors and anchorages, and eventually in a series of elegant and accurate charts (dated 1873-75) available for the cartographers and navigators of the world. As the largest island in the gulf, Tiburon received especial attention; its coast was accurately surveyed and mapped, while the interior was sketched in considerable detail, and the adjacent channels were carefully defined and sounded. 106

It was in the 1970s that the mistakes and uncertainties of three and a half centuries about the coasts of the Californian Gulf were finally resolved through the surveys conducted by Commander (now Admiral) George Dewey, U.S.N., and the crew of the United States ship Narragansett, under the direction of the Hydrographic Office of the United States. These surveys led to a reliable and comprehensive geodetic mapping of all coastal features, geographic positioning of the entire coastline, extensive soundings to determine the bottom layout, tidal measurements, current recognition, definitions of harbors and anchorages, and ultimately a series of elegant and precise charts (dated 1873-75) that were made available to cartographers and navigators worldwide. As the largest island in the gulf, Tiburon received special focus; its coastline was accurately surveyed and mapped, while the interior was sketched in detail, and the nearby channels were carefully defined and sounded. 106

Naturally the surveyors came into contact with the Seri tribesmen. Of them Commander Dewey wrote:

Naturally, the surveyors interacted with the Seri tribesmen. Commander Dewey wrote about them:

During the greater part of the year Tiburon Island is resorted to by the Seris (or Ceres) tribe of Indians, who inhabit the adjacent mainland, and their huts and encampments may be seen in many places along the shore, principally on the eastern side of the island. They are reputed to be exceedingly hostile and to use poisoned arrows in opposing the landing of strangers on what they consider their domain, but during the stay of the Narragansett in the vicinity they were very friendly. At first they were shy and made threatening gestures, but soon finding that our intentions were peaceable, became friendly and returned our visits to the shore by frequent and lengthy calls on board ship. They are very expert in hunting with the bow and arrow and in catching fish and turtles, which abound in the surrounding waters. The canoes of these Indians deserve especial mention. They are made of long reeds, which are bound together with strings after the manner of fascines, three of which when fastened together ... have sufficient buoyancy to support one or two persons. They kneel in these canoes when paddling, the water being at the same level in the canoe as outside of it.201

For most of the year, Tiburon Island is visited by the Seris (or Ceres) tribe of Indians, who live on the nearby mainland. Their huts and camps are visible in many spots along the shore, especially on the eastern side of the island. They are known to be quite hostile and use poisoned arrows to keep strangers from landing on what they consider their territory. However, during the time the Narragansett was nearby, they were very friendly. At first, they were shy and made threatening gestures, but once they realized we meant no harm, they became friendly and often visited our ship. They are very skilled at hunting with bows and arrows and catching fish and turtles, which are plentiful in the surrounding waters. The canoes used by these Indians are particularly impressive. They are made of long reeds tied together with strings, much like bundles, and three of them combined can support one or two people. They kneel in these canoes while paddling, as the water level inside matches the water level outside. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Illustrations of the “Tiburon canoe” (or balsa), drawn by H. Von Bayer, were also introduced.202 In addition Mr Von Bayer succeeded in obtaining two photographs of Seri Indians, taken on shipboard; one of these is of special interest in that it illustrates the peculiar attitude of the Seri archer in the act of using his weapon.203

Illustrations of the “Tiburon canoe” (or balsa), drawn by H. Von Bayer, were also introduced.202 Additionally, Mr. Von Bayer managed to get two photographs of Seri Indians taken on a ship; one of these is particularly interesting because it shows the unique stance of the Seri archer while using his weapon.203

Unfortunately the surveys were confined to the coast, and the interior remained unmeasured and unmapped save on the basis of tradition and travelers’ tales, supplemented by a few vague itineraries and traverses. Except along the international boundary and the railway (Ferrocarril de Sonora), the locations of pueblos and ranches remained guesses, the delineation of mountains remained a work of imagination, and even the best cartographers continued to run in rivers at random or in such wise as to afford artistic effect.204

Sadly, the surveys were limited to the coast, leaving the interior unmeasured and unmapped except for traditional knowledge and travelers' stories, along with a few unclear itineraries and routes. Aside from the international boundary and the railway (Ferrocarril de Sonora), the locations of towns and ranches were mostly estimates, the outline of mountains was purely imaginative, and even the best mapmakers continued to inaccurately show rivers or draw them in a way that looked good artistically. 204


In 1879 M. Alphonse L. Pinart traveled extensively in northern Mexico and southwestern United States, and made considerable linguistic collections among various tribes. Desiring to obtain a Seri vocabulary, he planned a visit to the tribal territory; but on reaching Caborca in March he was met by the information that the Seri were on the warpath, and had recently devastated a hacienda on their frontier and slain more than a dozen white settlers.205 Thence he repaired 107 to Pueblo Seri, and early in April obtained there a Seri-Spanish vocabulary of several hundred words, with a number of short phrases throwing some light on the grammatic construction. This record was transmitted to Dr Albert S. Gatschet. It comprises a title page inscribed “Vocabulario de la lengua Séri Interprete el GI. de los Seris y otro Indio. Pueblo de Seris 4 Abril 1879”; four foolscap sheets (written on both sides, thus making 16 pages) of vocabulary; and a final page bearing two short phrases and inscribed “Los Séris, me dice el general de ellos, son como doscientos hombres de llevar armas—viven todavia parte en la isla de Tiburon, parte en la costa.206 Pueblo de Seris, 4 Abril, 1879, Alph. Pinart.” A transcript of this invaluable vocabulary is preserved in the Bureau of American Ethnology. There is nothing either in the original vocabulary or in the known correspondence relating to it to identify the aboriginal informant, but the identification is made easy through the coincident testimony of living witnesses and the unmistakable implication of the historical records to the effect that there was at that time but a single Seri Indian207 resident at Pueblo Seri—i. e., the official interpreter, “El General” Kolusio. This identification is strengthened by the remarkable similarity between this vocabulary and that of Bartlett, a similarity made the more striking by the fact that one was recorded in English, the other in Spanish; the identification is supported, too, by Kolusio’s memory of “giving his language” to a stranger “not a Mexicano” yet familiar with the Spanish; and the identification is practically established by the considerable number of terms expressing concepts alien to the Seri (e. g., ax, adobe, house, horse, hog, field, irrigate, pigeon, thresh, tobacco, shirt, the names of the months, etc.), evidently acquired through long and intimate acquaintance with Mexican customs and domiciles and modes of thought—for all these concepts were familiar enough to Kolusio, yet to no other known Seri Indian of recent decades. Accordingly it may be deemed practically certain that M Pinart’s vocabulary, like that of Commissioner Bartlett, was obtained from Kolusio; and it is at least strongly probable that both the Lavandera-Ramirez and the Tenochio-Pimentel vocabularies were derived from the same aboriginal source—an indubitably excellent source, save for the occasional interjection of alien notions, and the infrequent substitution of foreign equivalents for forgotten terms.

In 1879, M. Alphonse L. Pinart traveled extensively in northern Mexico and the southwestern United States, collecting considerable linguistic data from various tribes. Hoping to get a Seri vocabulary, he planned to visit their territory; however, when he reached Caborca in March, he learned that the Seri were on the warpath and had recently attacked a hacienda on their border, killing more than a dozen white settlers.205 So, he went to Pueblo Seri, and by early April, he had gathered a Seri-Spanish vocabulary of several hundred words, along with some short phrases that provided insight into the grammar. This record was sent to Dr. Albert S. Gatschet. It includes a title page that says “Vocabulario de la lengua Séri Interprete el GI. de los Seris y otro Indio. Pueblo de Seris 4 Abril 1879”; four foolscap sheets (written on both sides, totaling 16 pages) of vocabulary; and a final page with two short phrases, reading “Los Séris, me dice el general de ellos, son como doscientos hombres de llevar armas—viven todavía parte en la isla de Tiburón, parte en la costa.206 Pueblo de Seris, 4 Abril, 1879, Alph. Pinart.” A transcript of this invaluable vocabulary is kept in the Bureau of American Ethnology. There is nothing in the original vocabulary or the known correspondence about it that identifies the aboriginal informant, but it’s easy to identify thanks to the testimonies of living witnesses and the clear implications from historical records indicating that at that time, there was only one Seri Indian207 living at Pueblo Seri—namely, the official interpreter, “El General” Kolusio. This identification is further supported by the striking resemblance between this vocabulary and that of Bartlett, made even more notable because one was recorded in English and the other in Spanish. The identification also finds support in Kolusio’s memory of “giving his language” to a stranger “not a Mexicano” but familiar with Spanish. Additionally, the identification is almost confirmed by the numerous terms that express concepts unfamiliar to the Seri (e.g., ax, adobe, house, horse, hog, field, irrigate, pigeon, thresh, tobacco, shirt, the names of the months, etc.), which he evidently acquired through extensive familiarity with Mexican customs, homes, and ways of thinking—since all these concepts were well-known to Kolusio but not to any other known Seri Indian in recent decades. Therefore, it can be regarded as highly likely that M. Pinart’s vocabulary, like that of Commissioner Bartlett, was obtained from Kolusio; and it is also very probable that both the Lavandera-Ramirez and the Tenochio-Pimentel vocabularies came from the same original source—an undeniably excellent source, except for occasional foreign concepts and occasional replacements of foreign terms for ones forgotten.

Barred from Seriland by the current war craze, M Pinart was prevented from obtaining much collateral information concerning the Seri; but he concluded (on grounds not stated) that “the Tepoca spoken on 108 the south of Rio del Altar is identical with the Seri”,208 and also that “the Guaymas were of the stock of the southern Pimas, or Nebomes”.209

Barred from Seriland by the ongoing war frenzy, M Pinart couldn't gather much additional information about the Seri; however, he concluded (for reasons not mentioned) that “the Tepoca spoken south of Rio del Altar is the same as the Seri,”208 and also that “the Guaymas are from the same lineage as the southern Pimas, or Nebomes.”209

While M Pinart failed to publish, his linguistic collections were compared, systemized, and made public by Dr Albert S. Gatschet in a notable memoir on “Der Yuma-Sprachstamm”, 1883. Comparing the Seri, as represented by the Pinart and Bartlett and Pimentel vocabularies, with the Yavapai, M’Mat, and incidentally with the Konino, Tonto, Cochimi, and other tongues, Dr Gatschet was led to adopt the suggestion of Professor Wilhelm Herzog210 that the Seri is a dialect of the Yuman stock. In the comparative vocabulary, which comprises about a hundred and forty Seri words (selected from the 611 terms in the Pinart collection), there are perhaps a dozen terms presenting some similarity to those of one or more Yuman dialects; among these are terms for ax, tree, split, tobacco, heaven, pigeon, dog, and others of presumptively or certainly alien character.211

While M. Pinart didn't manage to publish his work, Dr. Albert S. Gatschet compared, organized, and published his linguistic collections in a significant memoir titled "Der Yuma-Sprachstamm" in 1883. By comparing the Seri, as represented in the vocabularies of Pinart, Bartlett, and Pimentel, with the Yavapai, M’Mat, and, incidentally, with the Konino, Tonto, Cochimi, and other languages, Dr. Gatschet was prompted to accept Professor Wilhelm Herzog's suggestion that the Seri is a dialect of the Yuman family. The comparative vocabulary includes around one hundred and forty Seri words (selected from the 611 terms in the Pinart collection), with about a dozen terms showing some resemblance to those from one or more Yuman dialects; these include words for ax, tree, split, tobacco, heaven, pigeon, dog, and others that are likely or certainly from different origins.

Herzog’s suggested classification, with Gatschet’s indorsement, was accepted even more promptly and widely than the earlier classifications of Pimentel and Orozco. It was tacitly adopted by Director J. W. Powell in his classic arrangement of Indian linguistic families of America north of Mexico;212 it was explicitly approved by Adolph F. Bandelier in his “Final Report of Investigations”;213 and it was implicitly accepted and fortified by Dr Daniel G. Brinton in his work on “The American Race”.214 Brinton’s Seri words were “chiefly from the satisfactory vocabulary obtained by the late John Russell Bartlett”; of the 21 terms, about 8 (including that for the alien concept “house”) suggest affinity with the Yuman, chiefly in the Mohave dialect; the others are either wholly distinct or only superficially similar, e. g., in the concurrence of a consonant or two, or merely in the correspondence in number of syllables.215

Herzog’s proposed classification, backed by Gatschet, was accepted even more quickly and widely than the earlier classifications by Pimentel and Orozco. It was quietly adopted by Director J. W. Powell in his classic organization of Indian language families of America north of Mexico;212 it was clearly endorsed by Adolph F. Bandelier in his “Final Report of Investigations”;213 and it was subtly accepted and reinforced by Dr. Daniel G. Brinton in his work on “The American Race.”214 Brinton noted that his Seri words were “mainly from the adequate vocabulary collected by the late John Russell Bartlett”; out of the 21 terms, about 8 (including the one for the foreign concept “house”) show a connection to the Yuman, primarily in the Mohave dialect; the others are either completely different or only slightly similar, for example, having a consonant or two in common, or just matching in the number of syllables.215


Stated briefly, the scientific researches relating to Seriland and the Seri during the fifty years from the fourth decade of the century to the middle of the last decade resulted in (1) a satisfactory survey of the coast, (2) the collection of two excellent Seri vocabularies, with a few others of less extent, and (3) two discrepant linguistic classifications of the tribe, both widely quoted and accepted. 109

In short, the scientific studies about Seriland and the Seri over the fifty years from the 1930s to the mid-1990s resulted in (1) a thorough survey of the coastline, (2) the gathering of two comprehensive Seri vocabularies, along with a few smaller ones, and (3) two differing linguistic classifications of the tribe, both of which are commonly cited and widely accepted. 109

During the half century of historical silence from 1844 forward, and pending the progress of the desultory researches, the Seri suffered a succession of external shocks more serious in their internal effects than any of those of the three centuries preceding; indeed it is just to say that during this half century the Seri range was curtailed, the Seri customs were modified, and the Seri population was diminished more effectively than during the preceding sesquicentury of fairly definite record. The chief factor in this transformation was an intrepid pioneer, who pushed actual settlement toward the Seri frontier more vigorously than any predecessor—Señor Pascual Encinas, a son of Sonora.216

During the fifty years of historical silence from 1844 onward, while the scattered research progressed, the Seri faced a series of external pressures that had more significant internal consequences than anything seen in the three centuries before. In fact, it's fair to say that during this fifty-year period, the Seri territory shrank, their customs changed, and their population decreased more notably than in the previous one hundred fifty years of relatively clear records. The primary reason for this transformation was a bold pioneer who advanced settlement towards the Seri border more aggressively than anyone before him—Señor Pascual Encinas, a son of Sonora.216

Born near Hermosillo in 1819, Don Pascual was in early maturity at the time of Colonel Andrade’s expedition, and was fully conversant with the later history of the Seri. Of adventurous disposition, and holding interests in Bacuachito, he was familiar with the Seri frontier; and in hunting deer and other large game over the vast delta plain of Rio Sonora he had perceived the agricultural possibilities of the region. During the struggle of 1844 he became impressed with the idea that the Seri might be controlled and gradually inducted into useful citizenship through a judicious combination of industrial, educational, and evangelical agencies; and before the end of the year he began the establishment of a rancho (the present Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica) on the Seri borderland, with the double object of developing new resources and regulating the relations between tribesmen and settlers. Enlisting the aid of a corps of vaqueros, mechanics, and farmers, he excavated a deep well, erected corrals and adobe houses, cleared away the exceptionally luxuriant mesquite forests, fenced fields, and stocked the plains with horses, burros, and cattle. At the same time he sought Seri wanderers and treated them with such kindness and firmness as to gain their confidence; and while most of the tribe held aloof, some attached themselves to the rancho, and a few even were taught to labor; albeit in desultory fashion. In this stage, as for some years afterward, he was materially aided by his contemporary, Kolusio, then in his physical prime and still in good repute among his kinsmen. Meantime he obtained the assignment of two priests, who made it their chief duty still further to placate the tribesmen and their families and to induct them into religious observances and belief; and as the confidence of the Indians increased, he had two boys domiciled in the rancho and educated in the Spanish as well as in the faith, in the hope that they might pass into priesthood and so form a future bond with their kin. One of these neophytes disappeared in the troublous times of a later decade, though tradition indicates that he became a tribal outcast (like Kolusio still later) and slunk away to Pitiquito and Altar, and afterward to California; the other, christened Juan Estorga and 110 nicknamed El Gran Pelado (“The Great Shorn”), survives as subchief Mashém, long since relapsed into his native savagery, save that he remembers the Spanish, affects a hat, cuts his hair to the neck (whence his nickname), and prefers footgear to the fashion of his fellows.

Born near Hermosillo in 1819, Don Pascual was in his prime when Colonel Andrade's expedition took place, and he was well-versed in the later history of the Seri. He had an adventurous spirit and held interests in Bacuachito, making him familiar with the Seri frontier. While hunting deer and other large game across the vast delta plain of Rio Sonora, he recognized the agricultural potential of the area. During the 1844 struggle, he became convinced that the Seri could be guided into useful citizenship through a smart mix of industrial, educational, and evangelical efforts. By the end of that year, he started establishing a ranch (now called Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica) on the Seri border, aiming to develop new resources and manage relations between the tribesmen and settlers. With the help of a team of cowboys, mechanics, and farmers, he dug a deep well, built corrals and adobe houses, cleared the thick mesquite forests, fenced fields, and filled the plains with horses, burros, and cattle. At the same time, he sought out wandering Seri and treated them with kindness and firmness to earn their trust. While most of the tribe stayed distant, some attached themselves to the ranch, and a few were even taught to work, though only intermittently. In this phase, and for several years after, he received significant support from his contemporary, Kolusio, who was then at his physical peak and still held in high regard among his people. Meanwhile, he secured the assignment of two priests, whose main job was to further appease the tribesmen and their families and introduce them to religious practices and beliefs. As the Indians gained confidence, he took in two boys at the ranch, educating them in Spanish and their faith, hoping they would eventually enter the priesthood and strengthen the bond with their community. One of these boys vanished during the troubled times of a later decade, though tradition suggests he became a tribal outcast (like Kolusio later) and fled to Pitiquito and Altar, eventually ending up in California. The other, named Juan Estorga and nicknamed El Gran Pelado (“The Great Shorn”), is still alive as subchief Mashém. He has long since reverted to his original wild ways, except that he remembers Spanish, wears a hat, cuts his hair to his neck (hence his nickname), and prefers footwear unlike that of his peers.

Industrially, Don Pascual’s venture proved successful; the fertile soil, periodically watered from below by the underflow of the semiannual freshets, yielded incredible crops; reveling in the exceptional floral wealth of the delta and tided over bad seasons by the artificial forage, the stock increased and multiplied beyond precedent; and so the rancho became a flourishing establishment, housing a score or more of families and harboring a hundred or two dependents, in addition to the thousands of half-wild horses and cattle. Meantime, the industrial lines ramifying from the rancho formed a drag net for Seri raiders, practically cutting off forays eastward toward Hermosillo and Horcasitas, and greatly reducing the sallies southeastward toward Guaymas and northeastward toward Bacuachito and Caborca; and Don Pascual began to receive recognition and state and federal concessions as a public benefactor. For a decade the industrial and evangelical influence and the effect of the bold kindness of El Patron extended and became felt throughout the tribe, and most of the families visited the rancho at least occasionally. Yet even the best of them remained averse to labor save in sporadic spurts, and indifferent to the religious teaching, save when sweetened by substantial largess; while all but the decrepit and the two carefully restrained neophytes came and went capriciously, and were much given to decamping incontinently by night to return shamefacedly one by one in the course of a week or two, without consistent or adequate excuse for their stampede—indeed the vaqueros habitually classed these nocturnal flights of the Seri and the reasonless stampedes of their stock in the same category. Ostensibly a few of the larger boys and girls and a still smaller number of the adults were helpers about the rancho; actually they were scavengers, consuming the waste of the shambles and the earth-mixed scatterings from the thrashing floors, and saving the rancheros the noisome duty of removing the carcasses of animals dead by disease or accident; and as their indolence increased under the easy régime, they grew into more and more open thievery. By no means deficient in shrewdness and cunning, they adopted numberless devices for imposing on the credulity of the majordomo and other officials of the rancho. When coin-like tokens of stamped copper were used in the transactions of the rancho as equivalents of labor, the Seri ingeniously obtained sheet copper by stealth or barter, systematically counterfeited the tokens, and exchanged them for supplies at the rancho store; it was a favorite trick to surreptitiously break the neck or a leg of a horse, cow, or burro, and report finding the dead or crippled animal, at the same time begging for the carcass; and, whenever opportunity offered, they slyly slaughtered a head of stock, consumed it to the hoofs and horns 111 and larger bones, sucked up the blood stains, and buried the few remains in cactus thickets, impenetrable save by their own hardy limbs and bodies. Nor did any of the tribe except the two restrained neophytes ever really enter the collective life of the patriarchal group headed by Don Pascual; they attended no industrial or social or churchly function save in response to reminder and solicitation; they craved the white man’s medicines in slight disorders, but rejected them in extremis; and the dying or dead were spirited away to be inhumed and mourned, according to their wont, in their harsh but beloved motherland.

Industrially, Don Pascual’s venture was a success; the fertile soil, regularly watered from below by the seasonal floods, produced amazing crops. Enjoying the rich plant life of the delta and surviving tough seasons thanks to artificial feed, the livestock thrived and multiplied like never before, turning the rancho into a thriving establishment that accommodated many families and supported a hundred or so dependents, along with thousands of semi-wild horses and cattle. Meanwhile, the industrial operations branching out from the rancho acted as a defense against Seri raiders, effectively blocking their raids eastward towards Hermosillo and Horcasitas, while significantly reducing their attacks southeastward toward Guaymas and northeastward toward Bacuachito and Caborca. Don Pascual began to gain recognition and state and federal concessions as a public benefactor. For a decade, the industrial and evangelical influence, along with the generous kindness of El Patron, spread throughout the tribe, and most families visited the rancho from time to time. However, even the best of them were reluctant to work except in short bursts and showed little interest in religious teachings unless they were accompanied by generous donations. Almost everyone, except for the elderly and the two carefully supervised newcomers, came and went unpredictably, often disappearing at night and shamefully returning one by one over a week or two, without consistent or reasonable excuses for their abrupt departures. In fact, the vaqueros typically viewed these nighttime absences of the Seri and the pointless stampedes of their livestock as the same issue. On the surface, a few of the older boys and girls, along with a handful of adults, worked as helpers around the rancho; in reality, they scavenged, consuming leftover scraps from the slaughterhouse and debris from the threshing floors, saving the rancheros from the unpleasant task of disposing of animals that died from illness or accidents. As their laziness grew under the relaxed environment, they became more openly thieving. Far from lacking in cleverness and wit, they devised countless schemes to take advantage of the naivety of the majordomo and other rancho officials. When stamped copper tokens were used in transactions as substitutes for labor, the Seri cleverly obtained sheet copper through stealth or trade, systematically counterfeited the tokens, and exchanged them for supplies at the rancho store. It became a common trick to secretly break a horse’s or cow’s neck or leg, then report finding the injured or dead animal while requesting the carcass. Whenever a chance arose, they slyly killed a head of livestock, consumed it entirely, and buried the few remaining pieces in cactus thickets that were hard to access except for their own strong limbs and bodies. Moreover, no one in the tribe, except the two supervised newcomers, ever truly integrated into the collective life of the patriarchal group led by Don Pascual; they participated in no industrial, social, or church functions unless reminded and asked to do so; they desired the white man’s medications for minor ailments but rejected them in serious situations; and when someone was dying or deceased, they would take them away to be buried and mourned in their harsh but cherished homeland.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VII

HOUSE FRAMEWORK, TIBURON ISLAND

House Framework, Tiburon Island

HOUSE COVERING, TIBURON ISLAND

House Cover, Tiburon Island

During this period of mutual toleration the Seri were so deeply influenced by the white contact that, for probably the only time in their history, they voluntarily allowed an alien free entry into their territory; and Don Pascual explored the coast of Bahia Kino, projected a port, and even visited Isla Tiburon twice or thrice. In one of these visits he was ferried over Boca Infierno on a balsa, but, finding himself unable to keep pace with the swift-footed Seri on their hilly pathways, he returned for his saddle mule; halfway across, the poor animal swimming behind the balsa suddenly plunged and struggled, and, on landing, hobbled out on three legs—the fourth having being snapped by a shark. Warned by this incident, Don Pascual abandoned a half-formed plan of stocking the island, and afterward brought up a small vessel from Guaymas in which he carried across a dozen caballeros (including Don Ygnacio Lozania, who had visited the island with the Andrade expedition); and this party examined the southeastern quarter of the island, watering two or three times at Tinaja Anita, and pushing as far westward as Arroyo Carrizal. On this trip he studied the Seri house-building, and was the first to note the large use of turtle-shells and sponges in the process.217

During this time of mutual tolerance, the Seri were so significantly impacted by their contact with white people that, for probably the only time in their history, they willingly allowed outsiders to enter their territory freely. Don Pascual explored the coast of Bahia Kino, planned a port, and even visited Isla Tiburon two or three times. On one of these visits, he was ferried across Boca Infierno on a raft, but when he found he couldn't keep up with the fast-moving Seri on their hilly paths, he returned for his saddle mule. Halfway across, the poor animal, swimming behind the raft, suddenly plunged and struggled, and upon landing, hobbled out on three legs—the fourth one having been bitten off by a shark. Cautioned by this event, Don Pascual gave up a half-formed plan to stock the island and later brought a small vessel from Guaymas, carrying a dozen horsemen (including Don Ygnacio Lozania, who had visited the island with the Andrade expedition). This group examined the southeastern part of the island, getting water two or three times at Tinaja Anita, and ventured as far west as Arroyo Carrizal. During this trip, he studied how the Seri built their houses and was the first to notice the extensive use of turtle shells and sponges in the process.217

About the middle fifties it became apparent that the Seri were dividing into a parasitical portion clustered about the rancho (as their forbears gathered about Populo and Pueblo Seri long before), and a more independent faction clinging to their rugged ranges and gale-swept fishing grounds; and it became evident, too, that the thievery of the dependent faction would soon ruin the rancho if not checked, or at least greatly diminished. Accordingly the passive policy was modified by introducing a more active police service. At first the penalties for theft and misdemeanors were light, and the system promised well—especially as even a slight punishment was equivalent to banishment, the criminal fleeing to Tiburon on his escape or immediately after the crime; yet the experience of a year or two proved that the escaped parasites seldom resumed the hard customs of their tribal life, but generally returned to the borderland and there preyed on the wandering stock from the rancho. Finally, driven to extremity, and supported 112 by the state and federal authorities (themselves confessedly unable successfully to cope with the condition), Don Pascual reluctantly adopted a severer régime. Sending out as messengers several Seri still remaining at the rancho, he convened the leading chiefs and clanmothers of the tribe in a council, and announced that the stock-killing must cease, on pain of a Seri head for each head of stock thereafter slain. The Indians seemingly acquiesced, and separated; but within two days a group of Seri women “milled” a band of horses, caught and threw one in such wise as to break its neck, and immediately sucked its blood, gorged its intestines, and buried its quarters to “ripen”, after their former fashion. Thereupon a matron remaining near the rancho was sent to demand the delivery of the perpetrators; and, when she failed to return, the vaqueros were instructed to shoot the first Seri seen on the llano. Within two days more, the tribe were on the warpath for revenge—and the war raged for a decade.

Around the mid-1950s, it became clear that the Seri were splitting into two groups: one dependent faction that clustered around the rancho (similar to how their ancestors once gathered near Populo and Pueblo Seri), and a more independent faction that held onto their rugged mountains and stormy fishing spots. It also became evident that the thefts from the dependent group would soon destroy the rancho if they weren't stopped, or at least significantly reduced. So, the previous hands-off approach was changed to include a more active police presence. Initially, the penalties for theft and minor offenses were light, and the system showed promise—especially since even a small punishment felt like banishment, forcing criminals to flee to Tiburon right after committing their crimes. However, after a year or two, it became clear that the escaped individuals rarely went back to the tough lifestyle of their tribe; they usually returned to the outskirts and preyed on the wandering livestock from the rancho. Finally, pushed to the limit and backed by state and federal authorities (who admitted they were unable to effectively deal with the situation), Don Pascual reluctantly put a stricter system in place. He sent out some Seri still at the rancho as messengers, called together the leading chiefs and clan mothers for a council, and declared that the killing of livestock must stop, threatening that for every animal killed, a Seri life would be taken. The Indians seemed to agree and dispersed; however, within two days, a group of Seri women rounded up a herd of horses, caught one in a way that broke its neck, then drank its blood, stuffed its insides, and buried its parts to “ripen,” just like before. A matron who was near the rancho was then sent to demand the capture of those responsible; when she didn’t return, the vaqueros were ordered to shoot the first Seri they saw on the plains. Within two days, the tribe was on the warpath seeking revenge—and the conflict lasted for a decade.

During the early months of the Encinas war Don Pascual’s vaqueros sought merely to enforce the barbaric law of a head for a head; but, as they found themselves beset by ambush, assailed and wounded by night, despoiled of favorite animals, and kept constantly in that most nerve-trying state of eternal vigilance, their rancor rose to an intensity nearly equal to the savage passion for blood-vengeance; and thenceforth the Seri were hunted from the plain east of Desierto Encinas precisely as were the stealthy jaguar and sneaking coyote—and the ghastly details were better spared. There were few open battles; commonly the vaqueros rode in groups and guarded against ambuscades, and the Seri were picked off one by one; but once in the early sixties Don Pascual, at the head of some 30 vaqueros, fell into an ambush on the frontier, and several of his horses were killed and some of his men wounded, while 60 or 70 Seri warriors were left on the field. Don Pascual’s horse received a slight arrow wound, to which little attention was paid; next morning the gash was swollen and inflamed and the beast too stiff and logy for use; in the afternoon the glands under the jaw were swollen, and there was a purulent discharge from eyes and nostrils. On the second morning the animal was hardly able to move, its head was enormously swollen, there were fetid ulcers about the jaws and throat, and the swelling extended to the legs and abdomen. On the third morning there were suppurating ulcers on various parts of the body, while rags of putrefied flesh and stringy pus hung from the head and neck, and the animal was unapproachable because of the stench; during the day it dropped dead, and even the coyotes and buzzards shrank from the pestilential carcass. This and parallel incidents impressed Don Pascual with the dangers incident to Seri war; but fortunately the fact that he—the leader of the party, the first to fall into the ambush, and the target of most of the arrows—had escaped unscathed impressed still more deeply the surviving savages, and they soon sued for peace. Thenceforth he was revered as a shaman greater than those of the tribe, feared as an invulnerable fighter, and honored as a just lawgiver; and 113 gradually the condition of mutual tolerance was restored, to rest on a firmer basis than before.

During the early months of the Encinas war, Don Pascual’s cowboys were focused on enforcing the brutal principle of an eye for an eye. However, as they found themselves constantly ambushed, attacked at night, losing their favorite animals, and living in a tense state of constant alertness, their anger grew to a level almost equal to a primal desire for revenge. From that point on, the Seri were hunted from the plains east of Desierto Encinas just like the stealthy jaguar and sneaky coyote—and the graphic details are better left unsaid. There were few open battles; typically, the cowboys rode in groups and guarded against ambushes, taking out the Seri one by one. But once, in the early sixties, Don Pascual, leading about 30 cowboys, fell into an ambush on the frontier, resulting in several of his horses being killed and some of his men injured, while 60 or 70 Seri warriors were left dead on the field. Don Pascual’s horse suffered a minor arrow wound that was hardly noticed, but by the next morning, the wound was swollen and inflamed, and the horse was too stiff and lethargic to be used. In the afternoon, the glands under its jaw were swollen, and there was a discharge of pus from its eyes and nose. By the second morning, the animal could barely move, its head was massively swollen, and there were foul ulcers on its jaws and throat, with swelling spreading to its legs and abdomen. On the third morning, there were festering sores on various parts of its body, with bits of rotting flesh and stringy pus hanging from its head and neck, making the horse unapproachable due to the stench. During that day, it dropped dead, and even the coyotes and buzzards avoided the putrid carcass. This, along with similar incidents, made Don Pascual aware of the dangers of the Seri war; but fortunately, the fact that he—the leader of the group, the first to be ambushed, and the target of most of the arrows—had come away unharmed left an even deeper impression on the surviving natives, and they soon sought peace. From then on, he was regarded as a shaman greater than those of the tribe, feared as an invincible fighter, and honored as a fair lawgiver; and gradually, a condition of mutual tolerance was restored, resting on a stronger foundation than before. 113

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. VIII

SPONGE USED FOR HOUSE COVERING, TIBURON ISLAND

SPONGE USED FOR HOUSE COVERING, TIBURON ISLAND

Don Pascual estimates that during the dozen years of strife between his men and the Seri forces about half of the tribe were slain. The horror of the history of this period may be passed over; it may merely be noted as a casual fact that one of the two Mexicans accompanying the 1895 expedition was credited with 17 Seri heads. When he pointed out the site of his last exploit, a mile or two south of Rancho Libertad, and some incredulity was expressed, he immediately galloped to the spot and brought back a silent witness in the form of a bleached Seri skull.218

Don Pascual estimates that during the twelve years of conflict between his men and the Seri forces, about half of the tribe was killed. The horror of this period’s history can be overlooked; it can simply be mentioned that one of the two Mexicans who went on the 1895 expedition was reported to have collected 17 Seri heads. When he pointed out the location of his last act, a mile or two south of Rancho Libertad, and some doubt was expressed, he quickly rode to the site and returned with a silent witness in the form of a bleached Seri skull.218

At the close of the war Don Pascual continued the industrial development of the plains lying east of the desert border of Seriland, received new concessions in recognition of his conquest, and developed the ranches of Santa Ana and Libertad; but the evangelical arm of his vigorous mission gradually withered. For a dozen years the Seri looked up to “El Patron” as a quasi ruler, whose approval was requisite for the ratification of chieftainship, and through him ran a slender thread of nominal fealty to the state and the republic; yet few parasites gathered about the rancho. Mashém had gone back to his clan; and when depredations were committed at Bacuachito or elsewhere and the criminals were caught, usually through Don Pascual’s instrumentality, they were sometimes haled to Hermosillo for trial, and Kolusio was kept there as the official interpreter of charges and evidence and findings. Sometime during the sixties a few Seri youths were coaxed to Pueblo Seri for education, but when they were instructed to cut their hair they slunk dejectedly to their temporary domicile, only to decamp during the ensuing night; again, in 1870, Kolusio was commissioned to bring in a few young people and a matron or two of the tribe, and succeeded in doing so just in time to encounter an epidemic of measles, from which some died, while the others shook the dust of the pueblo from their feet forever; and this last straw, added to his alien residence and his presence at the dreaded trials, broke down the tribal toleration of Kolusio and made him an outlaw forever.

At the end of the war, Don Pascual kept working on the industrial development of the plains east of the Seriland desert border. He received new concessions as recognition for his conquests and developed the Santa Ana and Libertad ranches; however, the evangelical aspect of his vigorous mission slowly faded. For about twelve years, the Seri people looked up to “El Patron” as a sort of ruler, whose approval was necessary for confirming leadership, and through him ran a thin thread of nominal loyalty to the state and the republic. Yet, there were few hangers-on at the rancho. Mashém had returned to his clan. When crimes were committed at Bacuachito or elsewhere and the criminals were caught—usually with Don Pascual's help—they were sometimes taken to Hermosillo for trial. Kolusio was kept there as the official interpreter for charges, evidence, and findings. Sometime during the 1860s, a few Seri youths were persuaded to come to Pueblo Seri for education, but when they were told to cut their hair, they returned dejected to their temporary home, only to leave again during the night. Then, in 1870, Kolusio was tasked with bringing in a few young people and a couple of matron members of the tribe, and he succeeded just in time to face a measles outbreak, which led to some deaths while the others left the pueblo for good. This final straw, combined with his foreign residence and his involvement in those dreaded trials, shattered the tribal tolerance for Kolusio, making him an outlaw permanently.

In the later seventies Don Pascual’s energies began to wane, while the Seri population was waxing again; and, although the Encinas frontier was protected, raids began to recur toward Bacuachito, on the ranchos southwest of Caborca, and sometimes toward Guaymas; and the hostilities then engendered have never terminated. In the eighties Don Pascual suffered from cataract, gradually losing his sight, and his rule relaxed still further; Rancho Libertad was abandoned, and a condition of armed neutrality supervened at San Francisco de Costa Rica and Santa Ana; and this condition still persists, save as occasionally modified by a crude sort of diplomacy on the part of the Seri: when blood-feud is not burning (and it is usually extinguished by the killing of an alien on the coast or some remote part of the frontier), and when no stock have 114 been slaughtered for some months, an aged woman may be seen skulking about the mesquite clumps in sight of the rancho; if her presence is tolerated for a day or two, she approaches to beg for water and food and to receive the cast-off rags hastily forced on her nakedness by the sensitive señoras; if she deem her welcome not too chill, she erects a jacal a few hundred yards away, and there she is usually found, a morning or two later, to be accompanied by a younger matron with a child or two; and if these are tolerated, the rancheria may grow to half a dozen jacales and half a hundred persons.219 The band may remain a fortnight or even a month; but in case of serious illness of any of their number, or of threat or punishment for petty peccadillos, or of an unusual storm, or of a brilliant meteor, or of any exceptional occurrence about the rancho, the rancheria is commonly found empty next morning. If the attachés of the rancho are indisposed to tolerate the first envoy, yet feel kindly rather than rancorous, she is merely dogged and stoned away like a depredating domestic animal from another hacienda; if the rancor of past encounters remains, the mercy accorded her is precisely that shown the predatory coyote or other feral animal from the fastnesses of the sierras—and the tribe take warning and doubtless rejoice that their loss is no greater.

In the late seventies, Don Pascual’s strength started to decline, while the Seri population began to grow again. Even though the Encinas border was secure, raids began happening again toward Bacuachito, in the ranches southwest of Caborca, and sometimes toward Guaymas. The resulting conflicts have never truly ended. In the eighties, Don Pascual developed cataracts, progressively losing his sight, and his leadership weakened even more. Rancho Libertad was deserted, leading to a state of armed neutrality at San Francisco de Costa Rica and Santa Ana, which still exists today, occasionally influenced by a rough kind of diplomacy from the Seri. When there’s no blood feud (which usually gets settled by the killing of an outsider on the coast or another remote area), and when no cattle have been killed for several months, an elderly woman can often be seen hiding among the mesquite shrubs near the ranch. If her presence is tolerated for a day or two, she will approach to ask for water and food and to receive the old rags hurriedly thrown at her by the caring señoras. If she feels welcomed enough, she sets up a small shelter a few hundred yards away, and a day or two later, she will typically be found with a younger woman and a couple of children. If they are accepted, the small group can expand to half a dozen huts and around fifty people. The group may stay for two weeks or even a month; however, if someone gets seriously ill, if there’s a threat or punishment for minor offenses, if an unusual storm happens, or if there's a sudden meteor, or any extraordinary event at the ranch, the settlement usually disappears by the next morning. If the ranch staff is unwilling to tolerate the first visitor but doesn’t feel hostility, she will just be chased away and stoned like a troublesome stray animal from another hacienda. If they're still resentful from past encounters, they treat her with the same harshness given to a predatory coyote or other wild animal from the mountains—and the tribe takes note, likely relieved that their losses aren’t greater.


Any recital of the common history of the peculiarly savage Seri and the whites necessarily conveys an exaggerated notion of intimacy and mutual influence, since it emphasizes the few positive interrelations scattered along the decades of neglected nonrelation; and this is true of the Encinas régime as of earlier centuries. The great fact is that throughout their recorded history the Seri have touched civilization so slightly and so seldom that the effect of each contact was largely lost before the next supervened; and the unprecedentedly intimate contact of the Encinas régime, especially during the initial period of abnormal toleration, serves less to indicate relationship in characteristics and sympathies than to measure the breadth of the chasm between the Seri and the Mexican—a chasm not exceeded, and probably not equaled, elsewhere in America. About the middle fifties, probably every Seri above infancy and below decrepitude had seen Don Pascual and some other habitués of the rancho; they yielded to the seductions of indolent scavengering apparently more numerously than ever before; they substituted cast-off rags and barter-bought manta (plain cotton cloth) for the products of their own primitive weaving; they ate cooked food when it fell in their way; they half-heartedly adopted metal cutting implements, and sought or stole nails and hoop-iron for arrowpoints; some of them acquired a smattering of Spanish, and many of them solicited and sported Spanish names, just as they begged and flaunted tawdry handkerchiefs and beads; and they generally enjoyed mildly the ecclesiastical fiestas, and took kindly to the cross as a symbol of peace and plenty and perhaps of deeper import. Yet 115 even during this halcyon term no Seri save Kolusio and the Altar outlaw ever learned to live in a house; none but these and Mashém wore hats habitually; and, despite the fact that they often witnessed and sometimes playfully or perforce participated in the processes, no Seri ever really encompassed the idea of house-building or even of making adobe. Though surrounded by horses when near the rancho, they never learned to ride nor to use the animals otherwise than for immediate slaughter and consumption; though in frequent sight of skilful ropers, they never fully grasped the idea of the riata, preferring to seize their prey with hands and teeth; though familiar with the agricultural operations of the rancho, they never turned a sod nor planted a seed on their own account; though in frequent sight of cooking, they seldom began and never finished the process with their own food; though acquainted with firearms, they continued to regard them as thaumaturgic devices, and chose the bow and arrow for actual use; though submitting to apparel on the frontier, they commonly cast away the incumbrances on returning to their lairs; and no Mexican or other Caucasian ever saw within their esoteric life—their names remained unrevealed, their hair remained sacred, their mourning for the dead was unheard save at a distance, and no alien, even unto today, has ever seen the birth of their babes, the christening of their children, the burial of their dead, or the ceremonies of their shrines. The Seri and the whites were, indeed, mutually tolerant; but, so far as concerns mutual sympathy, the toleration was almost precisely on a par with that between the ranchero and the vulture-flock that scavengers his corrals—and when depredation began the toleration was of a piece with that between householders and their unwillingly domiciled rodents. It is not too much to say that the interracial mistrust and hatred of the Western Hemisphere culminates on the borders of Seriland; though the antipathy is commonly regarded by the alien tribesmen and the Mexicans as other than racial, since the Seri are felt to be hardly human—a feeling fully shared by the Seri, who undoubtedly deem themselves more closely akin to their deified bestial tutelaries than to the hated humans haunting their borders.

Any account of the shared history between the uniquely savage Seri and the whites tends to exaggerate the closeness and mutual influence, focusing on the few positive interactions scattered throughout decades of ignored non-interaction. This is true for the Encinas regime as well as earlier times. The major point is that throughout their documented history, the Seri have interacted so little with civilization that the impact of each encounter was mostly forgotten by the next; the unusually close contact during the Encinas regime, especially during the initial period of unusual tolerance, highlights the gap between the Seri and the Mexicans— a gap that is perhaps larger, and probably unmatched, elsewhere in America. Around the mid-1850s, likely every Seri person past infancy and not yet elderly had encountered Don Pascual and some other regulars at the rancho; they gave in to the lazy allure of scavenging more than ever before; they traded discarded rags and bartered for cotton cloth instead of using their own basic weaving; they ate cooked food when it was available; they reluctantly adopted metal cutting tools and looked for or stole nails and hoop iron to make arrow tips; some even picked up a few words of Spanish, and many asked for and took on Spanish names, just as they begged for and showed off cheap handkerchiefs and beads; they generally enjoyed the church fiestas and accepted the cross as a symbol of peace and perhaps something of deeper significance. Yet, even during this peaceful time, no Seri except Kolusio and the Altar outlaw ever learned to live in a house; only these two and Mashém regularly wore hats; and, despite often observing and sometimes playfully or reluctantly participating in the processes, no Seri ever truly understood house-building or even how to make adobe. Although surrounded by horses near the rancho, they never learned to ride them or use them for anything other than immediate slaughter and consumption; even though they often saw skilled ropers, they never fully grasped the concept of the lasso, choosing instead to catch their prey with their hands and teeth; although they were familiar with the rancho's farming activities, they never turned a single plot of land or planted a seed on their own; despite being frequently exposed to cooking, they rarely started and never completed the process with their own food; although they knew about firearms, they saw them as magical devices and preferred the bow and arrow for use; while they accepted clothing on the frontier, they usually discarded it when returning to their homes; and no Mexican or any other Caucasian ever glimpsed into their private lives—their names remained secret, their hair sacred, their mourning for the dead went unheard except from afar, and no outsider, even today, has ever witnessed the birth of their babies, the christening of their children, the burial of their dead, or the rituals at their sacred sites. The Seri and the whites were indeed mutually tolerant, but regarding mutual sympathy, this tolerance was almost exactly like that between a rancher and the vulture flock that scavenges his corrals—and when conflict arose, it mirrored the relationship between homeowners and the unwelcome rodents that invade their space. It’s fair to say that the interracial mistrust and hatred in the Western Hemisphere peaks at the borders of Seriland; however, the hostility is often seen by the outsider tribes and Mexicans as not merely racial, because the Seri are considered hardly human—a sentiment fully reciprocated by the Seri, who likely feel they are more closely related to their revered animal guardians than to the despised humans lurking at their borders.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. IX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. IX

HOUSE SKELETON, TIBURON ISLAND.

HOUSE FRAME, TIBURON ISLAND.

INTERIOR HOUSE STRUCTURE, TIBURON ISLAND.

HOUSE STRUCTURE, TIBURON ISLAND.


Even during the Encinas régime the Seri came in occasional contact with aliens on other parts of the frontier: on Hacienda Serna, the somewhat remoter borderland outpost on the north, the relations between the landholders and the Seri were analogous to those on the Encinas plains, though less acute in the ratio of relative distance. Occasionally small parties of warriors journeyed to Guaymas220 on balsas or on foot to barter pelican-skin robes for Caucasian commodities, chiefly aguardiente and manta; still more rarely similar pilgrimages were made to the outskirts of Hermosillo; a few marauding raids were made to the ranches lying near Cieneguilla and Caborca; and a number 116 of ill-advised prospecting parties, coming by land or water, paid the penalty of foolhardiness. Writing about 1864, Historian Velasco recurred to the Seri to say:

Even during the Encinas regime, the Seri occasionally interacted with outsiders in other areas of the frontier. At Hacienda Serna, a somewhat more remote border outpost to the north, the relationship between the landowners and the Seri was similar to that on the Encinas plains, although less intense due to the greater distance. Sometimes, small groups of warriors traveled to Guaymas220 by balsas or on foot to trade pelican-skin robes for goods from Caucasians, mainly aguardiente and manta. Even less often, similar trips were made to the outskirts of Hermosillo; a few raiding parties targeted ranches near Cieneguilla and Caborca; and several reckless prospecting groups, arriving by land or water, faced the consequences of their foolishness. Writing about 1864, Historian Velasco mentioned the Seri to say:

This handful of bandits, assassins, thieves, brutes [inhumanos], infinitely vile and cowardly, on February 28 last, on the Guaymas road, at the place called Huerfano, assassinated 4 unhappy women, including a girl of 9 years, and 7 men who were conducting them in a cart toward that port.

On February 28, this group of bandits, assassins, thieves, and ruthless cowards killed 4 unfortunate women, including a 9-year-old girl, and 7 men who were taking them in a cart to the port in the Huerfano area on the Guaymas road.

He bitterly denounced the apparent apathy of the state and federal authorities, adding:

He strongly criticized the obvious indifference of the state and federal authorities, adding:

When it is read in history fifty years hence that a handful of murderous Ceris, certainly not more than 80 of the tribe able to bear arms, was able to domineer in the midst of their crimes with unexampled audacity on account of the debility of the government and the inhabitants, it will be regarded as a romance or a fable; for it seems impossible that in the nineteenth century such a condition of things could exist to degrade the reason, the morality, and the dignity of civilized man.

When people read in history fifty years from now that a small group of violent Ceris, no more than 80 armed members of their tribe, managed to rule boldly amid their crimes due to the weakness of the government and the citizens, it will be viewed as a tale or a myth; because it seems unbelievable that in the nineteenth century such a situation could exist to undermine the reason, morality, and dignity of civilized people.

Yet a final note, apparently added in press, recorded that—

Yet a final note, apparently added in the press, recorded that—

In consequence of the last incident of the Ceris, the prefect of Guaymas, Don Cayetano Navarro, took the field, returning with 12 women and 16 children prisoners; also 2 striplings and a vieillard. He slew 9 among those who had no leader. This was on Isla Tiburon. The Indians fled thence, and are supposed to be at Tepococ.221

After the recent incident with the Ceris, the prefect of Guaymas, Don Cayetano Navarro, took action and returned with 12 women and 16 children as captives, along with 2 young men and an elderly man. He killed 9 individuals who did not have a leader. This occurred on Isla Tiburon. The Indians escaped from there and are thought to be at Tepococ.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

These may be considered as characteristic skirmishes attending the Encinas war. Other episodes followed, including the outbreaks of 1879, noted in part by M Pinart. Bacuachito suffered in various locally important events that will never be written: when Don Jesus Omada, a water-guide to the expedition of 1895, was asked about the Seri at Bacuachito, he answered with cumulative vehemence, “They killed my father. They killed my brother! They killed my brother’s wife!! They have killed half my friends!!!” As he spoke he was feverishly baring his breast; displaying a frightful scar over the clavicle, he exclaimed, “There struck a Seri arrow”; then he stripped his arm with a single sweep to reveal a ragged cicatrix extending nearly from shoulder to wrist, and added in a tone tremulous with pent bitterness, “The Seri have teeth!”

These can be seen as typical skirmishes from the Encinas war. Other incidents followed, including the uprisings of 1879, partially noted by M Pinart. Bacuachito was affected by various locally significant events that will never be recorded: when Don Jesus Omada, a water guide for the 1895 expedition, was asked about the Seri at Bacuachito, he responded with intense emotion, “They killed my father. They killed my brother! They killed my brother’s wife!! They have killed half my friends!!!” As he spoke, he was feverishly exposing his chest; displaying a horrific scar over his collarbone, he exclaimed, “That’s where a Seri arrow struck”; then he stripped his arm in one motion to reveal a jagged scar running nearly from shoulder to wrist, and added in a voice shaking with suppressed anger, “The Seri have teeth!”

In the course of the half century from 1844 onward, the population of Sonora increased materially, and carried more than a proportionate increase in the development of agricultural and mineral resources; and, especially under the beneficent Diaz régime, the state passed from the condition of a remote frontier province into that of a well-governed commonwealth. Naturally this progress carried the Caucasian element, including that of blended blood, farther and farther away from the nonprogressive Seri; and thereby the horror and detestation awakened by the very utterance of the name of the lowly tribe were intensified beyond description or ready understanding. The traditions of arrow poisoning were kept alive, and, doubtless, growing; the recitals of carrion eating were repeated, and possibly—just possibly—magnified beyond the reality; the accounts of offense and defense by nails and 117 teeth (such as that of Jesus Omada) passed from mouth to mouth until—incredible as it may seem—the more timid Sonorenses stood in greater dread of these natural weapons of the Seri than of their brutal clubs and swift-thrown missiles, or even of their poisoned arrows; while traditions of cannibalism came up and received such general credence that the current items of Seri outrages, both in local gossip and in the Mexican and American press, customarily recounted savage butcheries ending with gruesome feastings on the raw or slightly cooked flesh of the victims. The shuddering antipathy felt for the perpetrators of these inhumanities even a thousand miles away increased toward their frontier, as light toward its source; the dread was deepened by the failure of punitive expeditions sent out again and again only to be balked by waterless sand-wastes or wrecking tiderips; and in 1894 and 1895, at least, the horror of the Seri was a daily and nightly incubus on half the citizens of Hermosillo and the tributary pueblos and ranchos, and a thorn in the flesh of the state officials.

During the fifty years from 1844 onward, the population of Sonora grew significantly and saw a greater advancement in agricultural and mineral resources. Especially under the positive leadership of Diaz, the state transformed from a distant frontier into a well-run commonwealth. Naturally, this progress pushed the Caucasian population, including those of mixed descent, further away from the stagnant Seri community. As a result, the disgust and fear surrounding the mention of this lowly tribe intensified beyond description. The stories of arrow poisoning were kept alive, and likely grew; tales of cannibalism were repeated, and perhaps—just perhaps—exaggerated beyond reality. Accounts of fights involving nails and teeth (like that of Jesus Omada) circulated widely, leading even the more timid Sonorenses to fear these natural weapons of the Seri more than their brutal clubs, fast-thrown projectiles, or even their poisoned arrows. The legends of cannibalism gained widespread acceptance, and current reports of Seri atrocities, both in local chatter and in the Mexican and American press, typically described gruesome acts of violence that culminated in the horrifying consumption of the raw or barely cooked flesh of victims. The intense loathing for the offenders of these atrocities, even from a thousand miles away, grew as strongly as light draws toward its source. The fear was exacerbated by the repeated failures of punitive expeditions, which were repeatedly thwarted by dry desert landscapes or treacherous tides. By 1894 and 1895, the terror surrounding the Seri had become a daily and nightly burden for half the citizens of Hermosillo and the surrounding towns and ranches, creating a persistent annoyance for state officials.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. X

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. X

TYPICAL SERI HOUSE ON THE FRONTIER

TYPICAL SERI HOUSE ON THE FRONTIER

The external history of the Seri since the spring of 1894 is fairly known, both through the direct researches and through press reports, and would seem to be typical. This era may be assumed to open with the arrival on Tiburon’s shores of the sloop Examiner, carrying two San Francisco newspaper writers, Robinson and Logan, with two assistants, Clark and Cowell. The to-have-been-expected happened duly, save that two of the party escaped, and on reaching Guaymas advertised the disaster through correspondence and the press. Several of the accounts indicated that the two victims were not only slain but eaten, and various plans were laid in California, Arizona, and Sonora for the recovery of the bones222—as if, forsooth, the omnivorous and strong-toothed Seri spared anything save scattered teeth and split sections of the longer shafts of skeletons the size of those of Homo sapiens. While in Guaymas the two survivors set up claims for indemnity, which initiated international correspondence and inquiry into the details of the affair. These details are indicated, in sufficient fulness for present purposes, in a formal communication incorporated in the international correspondence, viz.:

The external history of the Seri since spring 1894 is fairly well-documented, both through direct research and news reports, and seems to be quite typical. This period likely began with the arrival of the sloop Examiner on Tiburon’s shores, carrying two newspaper writers from San Francisco, Robinson and Logan, along with two assistants, Clark and Cowell. What many expected to happen indeed occurred, except that two members of the group managed to escape. Upon reaching Guaymas, they publicized the disaster through letters and the media. Several accounts suggested that the two victims were not only killed but also eaten, and various plans were devised in California, Arizona, and Sonora to recover the bones—implying that the omnivorous and strong-toothed Seri spared nothing except for scattered teeth and broken pieces of skeletal remains similar in size to those of Homo sapiens. While in Guaymas, the two survivors filed claims for compensation, which sparked international correspondence and inquiries into the specifics of the incident. These details are sufficiently outlined for our purposes in a formal communication included in the international correspondence, namely:

Smithsonian Institution,
Bureau of American Ethnology,

Washington, December 14, 1894.

Smithsonian Institution,
Bureau of American Ethnology,

Washington, December 14, 1894.

Sir: Early in November I visited the Seri tribe of Indians, inhabiting Tiburon island in the Gulf of California and an area of several thousand square miles of the adjacent mainland in Sonora, Mexico. The visit was for the purpose of making collections under your authority as Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution; but I availed myself of the opportunity for obtaining additional information relating to the customs, habits, and history of the tribe. In addition to my own party I was accompanied by Señor Pascual Encinas, a prominent citizen of Hermosillo, and 118 owner of several ranchos adjacent to, and one within, the territory claimed by the Seri Indians; also by Señor A. Alvemar-Leon of Hermosillo, a young Mexican gentleman educated in the United States. For Señor Encinas the Seri Indians have the highest regard, and his kindly motive in accompanying the party was to facilitate friendly intercourse with the Indians; Señor Alvemar-Leon acted as Spanish-English interpreter, and one of the tribe who speaks Spanish [Mashém] acted as the Seri interpreter.

Sir: In early November, I visited the Seri tribe of Indians residing on Tiburon Island in the Gulf of California and in the surrounding several thousand square miles of mainland in Sonora, Mexico. I went there to collect specimens under your authority as Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, but I also took the opportunity to learn more about the tribe's customs, habits, and history. Along with my group, I was accompanied by Señor Pascual Encinas, a well-known resident of Hermosillo and owner of several nearby ranches, one of which is within the area claimed by the Seri Indians. I was also joined by Señor A. Alvemar-Leon from Hermosillo, a young Mexican man who studied in the United States. Señor Encinas holds the Seri Indians in high regard, and his intention in joining us was to foster friendly relations with them. Señor Alvemar-Leon acted as the Spanish-English interpreter, while one of the tribe members who speaks Spanish, [Mashém], served as the Seri interpreter.

One of the subjects of inquiry of the Indians related to the alleged killing of two Americans by the Seri Indians on Tiburon island during last spring at a date not definitely known either to the Indians or to myself. At first the Indians were indisposed to convey information on the subject, but after receiving presents from Señor Encinas and myself, and friendly assurances from the former, the interpreter for the tribe confessed the crime and detailed the circumstances, denying, however, that any of the Indians present at the place of conference (Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica, 17 leagues west-southwest of Hermosillo and near the coast) participated.

One of the issues the Indians discussed was the alleged killing of two Americans by the Seri Indians on Tiburon Island last spring, on a date that was unknown to both the Indians and me. At first, the Indians were reluctant to share any details, but after receiving gifts from Señor Encinas and me, along with friendly reassurances from him, the tribe's interpreter admitted to the crime and explained what had happened, although he denied that any Indians present at the meeting place (Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica, 17 leagues west-southwest of Hermosillo and near the coast) were involved.

According to the first account given through the Indian interpreter, the Indians on the island saw a small vessel approach the shores of the island, and saw four men land therefrom in a small boat. The spokesman among the strangers made inquiry, chiefly by signs, as to whether game was abundant in the interior of the island, and was by signs answered in the affirmative by the chief of the tribe, who displayed a letter of authority from the state officials at Hermosillo. Then the strangers divided, two remaining on the shore by the small boat, while the spokesman and another, accompanied by several Indians, started toward the interior of the island. When they were some distance away—the account continues—some of the Indians remaining on shore indicated by signs a desire to borrow the rifle of one of the two men on the beach, and after some parley the rifle was turned over to them; then the Indians desired also to borrow the small boat in which the party of white men had landed, and after one of the two men remaining on the shore was put aboard the vessel, this, too, was placed in the hands of the Indians. Thereupon several of the Indians entered the small boat, carrying the white man’s rifle, and rowed around a headland a short distance away. Passing this point they landed and a part of them ran quickly into the interior in such direction as to intercept the course of the white men. There they lay in wait until the strangers appeared, when they shot the spokesman, killing him almost instantly. On this the second white man cried out for help, whereupon he too was shot and wounded, and then (according to the first account) ran away and concealed himself in the bushes and was seen no more. The Indians who had borrowed the boat then went back to the shore, and reentered the boat with the intention of returning and capturing the fine vessel of the strangers; but as they approached the vessel, being at the time quite near the shore, the man on board arose suddenly with a gun pointed toward them and shouted, whereupon they dropped the borrowed gun and, leaping from the boat, ran away among the mesquite bushes, all escaping unhurt. The white man on the beach then, as the account ran, leaped into the boat, and, recovering his gun, rowed to the vessel and got aboard, when the two men at once made sail and escaped down the bay.

According to the initial account given by the Indian interpreter, the Indians on the island saw a small boat approaching the shore and noticed four men land from it. The spokesperson among the newcomers asked, mostly using gestures, whether there was plenty of game available on the island. He received a positive response from the tribe's chief, who showed a letter of authority from officials in Hermosillo. Then the group split up, with two staying on the beach by the small boat while the spokesperson and another man, along with several Indians, headed toward the island's interior. After a short distance, the Indians left on the beach signaled that they wanted to borrow the rifle from one of the two men on the beach, and after some discussion, the rifle was given to them. The Indians then expressed a desire to borrow the small boat the white men had arrived in, and after one of the two men remaining on the beach boarded the boat, it was also handed over to the Indians. Several of the Indians got into the small boat with the white man's rifle and rowed around a nearby headland. After passing this point, they landed, and some of them quickly ran into the interior to intercept the white men. They waited until the strangers came into view, shot the spokesperson, killing him almost instantly. Upon seeing this, the second white man called for help, and he too was shot and wounded but managed to escape and hide in the bushes, never to be seen again. The Indians who had borrowed the boat then returned to the shore and got back into the boat, intending to capture the newcomers' fine vessel; however, as they approached the vessel and were quite close to the shore, the man on board suddenly stood up with a gun aimed at them and yelled. They dropped the borrowed gun and jumped from the boat, fleeing into the mesquite bushes, all escaping unharmed. The white man on the beach then jumped into the boat, retrieved his gun, and rowed to the vessel, where the two men immediately set sail and escaped down the bay.

The foregoing account was given to Señor Encinas alone by the Indians through their interpreter, and was afterward conveyed to me through Señor Alvemar-Leon. Both of us recognized the incongruity with the character of the Seri Indians of that part of the narrative relating to the wounding and escape of the second man, and Señores Encinas and Leon and myself sought to impress the improbability of the account on the interpreter. Subsequently the Indians, through their interpreter, conveyed to Señor Encinas a modification of the account (after adhering to the first version for twenty-four hours), which agreed in all essential respects with the first, excepting the supplementary statement that some of the Indians (but neither the party who accompanied the white men nor those who followed in the boat) ran after the wounded man, caught him, shot him again—whereupon he again cried out—and 119 then killed him with stones. This modified account, also, Señor Encinas duly conveyed to me.

The earlier account was provided to Señor Encinas alone by the Indians through their interpreter, and later passed on to me through Señor Alvemar-Leon. Both of us noted the inconsistency in the story regarding the wounding and escape of the second man, and Señor Encinas, Leon, and I tried to highlight the implausibility of the account to the interpreter. Later, the Indians, through their interpreter, gave Señor Encinas a revised version of the account (after sticking to the first one for twenty-four hours), which agreed with the first in all key details, except for the added information that some of the Indians (but not the ones who accompanied the white men or those who followed in the boat) chased the wounded man, caught him, shot him again—after which he cried out again—and then killed him with stones. This revised version was also duly communicated to me by Señor Encinas.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XI

OCCUPIED RANCHERIA ON THE FRONTIER

Occupied Rancheria on the frontier

Still later, in collecting linguistic material through the Seri interpreter with the assistance of Señor Alvemar-Leon, I recurred to the subject incidentally (or at least ostensibly so) on two or three occasions, partly with the view of verifying or disproving the current report that the men were eaten by the Indians; and since the first distrust on the part of the interpreter and the companions (by whom he was commonly surrounded) had worn off, the questions were answered freely and with apparent truth. In brief, the information gained in this way was a repetition in general terms of the statement of the killing of both men; but the responses indicated (1) that the Indians are not cannibals, (2) that they do not eat any portion or portions of the body of an enemy slain in war, (3) that they do not eat human flesh in a sacrificial way, and (4), specifically, that they did not eat the flesh of the two white men killed last spring. I am disposed to give credence to all of these statements.

Later, while collecting language data with the Seri interpreter and Señor Alvemar-Leon, I casually mentioned the topic a couple of times (or at least tried to seem casual), partly to confirm or deny the rumor that the men were eaten by the Indians. Since the initial skepticism from the interpreter and his usual companions had lessened, the answers were given openly and honestly. Essentially, the information I gathered matched the general details about the deaths of both men; however, the responses indicated (1) that the Indians are not cannibals, (2) that they don’t consume any part of an enemy’s body after killing them in battle, (3) that they don’t eat human flesh in a sacrificial way, and (4) specifically, that they did not eat the flesh of the two white men who were killed last spring. I believe all of these statements.

Señor Encinas informed me that for a long time after the reputed killing of the two Americans on the island the Seri were exceptionally shy and were seldom seen on the mainland; that the first representatives of the tribe to appear were one or two old women who came to his rancho with much trepidation; that these representatives being not ill-treated, a man appeared, who was also well treated, and that still later other members of the tribe appeared, though it was only a few days before our visit that any considerable body of the Seri Indians showed themselves at their favorite mainland haunt on his rancho. It was his first communication with the Indians since the killing, and, both he and they agreed, the first confession of the crime outside of their own tribe.

Señor Encinas told me that for a long time after the rumored killing of the two Americans on the island, the Seri were very shy and were rarely seen on the mainland. The first members of the tribe to appear were one or two old women who approached his ranch with a lot of fear. Since they were treated well, a man then appeared, who was also treated kindly, and later, more tribe members came. However, it was only a few days before our visit that a significant number of the Seri Indians gathered at their usual spot on his ranch. This was his first contact with the Indians since the killings, and both he and they agreed it was the first recognition of the crime outside their tribe.

While in Sonora various conflicting accounts of the affair were given me. One, to which I was disposed to attach credence by reason of the character of my informant and his explanation of the circumstances under which the information was gained, was given me (just before the visit referred to above) by ex-Consul Forbes, of Guaymas. This account corresponds in all essential details with that conveyed to my party by the Indians, except that, according to Mr Forbes’ account, the survivors were altogether unarmed after the borrowing of the rifle by the Indians, and that when the man in the boat arose suddenly and shouted he pointed at the Indians not a gun but a stick, in the hope of deceiving them thereby, as he was fortunate enough to do.

While in Sonora, I received various conflicting accounts of the incident. One account that I was inclined to believe, based on the credibility of my source and how he got the information, was shared with me (just before the visit mentioned above) by ex-Consul Forbes from Guaymas. This account matches all the key details provided by the Indians to my group, except that, according to Mr. Forbes, the survivors were completely unarmed after the Indians borrowed the rifle. He also said that when the man in the boat suddenly stood up and shouted, he pointed at the Indians with a stick instead of a gun, hoping to outsmart them, which he luckily succeeded in doing.

It may be added that the Seri Indians are at the same time the most primitive and the most bloodthirsty and treacherous of the Indians of North America, so far as my knowledge extends; also that their character is well known throughout Sonora, and indeed generally throughout Mexico, Arizona, and the southern part of California. I was assured by the acting governor of Sonora and by the prefect of Hermosillo that it would be little short of suicide for even a Mexican official to visit these Indians or land on their island without an armed guard. Through conference with the Indians, also, I learned that any white man, Mexican, or Indian of another tribe coming in contact with them is killed without the slightest compunction, unless they are restrained by fear. Accordingly I am satisfied that the character of the Seri Indians is quite as bad as the unsavory reputation they have acquired throughout the Southwest.

It’s worth mentioning that the Seri Indians are considered both the most primitive and the most violent and treacherous of the Native American tribes in North America, as far as I know. Their reputation is well-known in Sonora and throughout Mexico, Arizona, and southern California. The acting governor of Sonora and the prefect of Hermosillo assured me that it would be nearly suicidal for even a Mexican official to visit these Indians or land on their island without an armed guard. From conversations with the Indians, I also learned that any white man, Mexican, or Indian from another tribe who encounters them is killed without hesitation, unless they're held back by fear. Therefore, I believe that the nature of the Seri Indians justifies the negative reputation they have earned throughout the Southwest.

It should be observed that while the Indians were unable to give the names of the men killed, their description of men and vessel agreed exactly with those of the newspaper correspondent Robinson and his companion, and with the sloop Examiner; and Mr Forbes’ information was obtained direct from the survivors of the expedition of which Mr Robinson had charge. There can thus be no doubt that it was Mr Robinson and his companion who were killed by these Indians, and whose killing was confessed by them, as set forth above.

It should be noted that although the Native Americans couldn’t name the men who were killed, their descriptions of the men and the ship matched exactly with those provided by newspaper correspondent Robinson and his companion, as well as the sloop Examiner. Mr. Forbes got his information directly from the survivors of the expedition led by Mr. Robinson. Therefore, there’s no doubt that it was Mr. Robinson and his companion who were killed by these Native Americans, and they admitted to the killings, as mentioned above.

With great respect, your obedient servant,

With all due respect, your loyal servant,

W J McGee,
Ethnologist in charge.

W J McGee,
Ethnologist in charge.

Honorable S. P. Langley,
Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution.

Honorable S. P. Langley,
Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution.


120

120

On first learning of the incident, months before the diplomatic correspondence began, the state and federal authorities promptly adopted vigorous punitive measures. A vessel carrying a force of federal troops was dispatched from Guaymas and a body of state troops were sent from Hermosillo with instructions to meet on the coast and capture the criminals at any cost, even to the extermination of the tribe if resistance was offered. But like so many others, the expedition failed; the horses of the land party were stalled in the sands and burrow-riddled plains, the vessel was harassed by storms and tidal currents, and the landing boats were swamped by the surf, while the Indians merely fled at sight of the invaders toward inaccessible lairs or remote parts of their territory; and when the water was gone and men and animals were at point of famishing, the forces retired without so much as seeing a single Seri.

On first hearing about the incident, months before diplomatic talks began, state and federal authorities quickly implemented strict punitive measures. A ship carrying federal troops was sent from Guaymas, and a group of state troops was dispatched from Hermosillo with orders to meet on the coast and capture the criminals at any cost, even if it meant wiping out the tribe if they resisted. But like so many other attempts, the mission failed; the horses of the ground troops got stuck in the sandy, burrow-filled plains, the ship faced storms and strong currents, and the landing boats were overwhelmed by the waves, while the Indians simply fled at the sight of the invaders to hidden spots or remote areas of their territory. When the supplies ran out and both men and animals were on the verge of starving, the forces retreated without even encountering a single Seri.

During the ensuing autumn the tribe, having quenched their blood-feud in alien blood, turned toward peace, and sent a matron of the Turtle clan, known as Juana Maria, to Costa Rica—i. e., Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica—where she was gradually followed by younger matrons and children, then by youths, and finally by warriors (after the fashion of Seri diplomacy) to the aggregate number of about sixty. Here they were found by the first expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology, in November, 1894; and here, under the still strong influence of the venerable Don Pascual, supplemented by small gifts and persistent pressure, they gradually “gave their language”, submitted to extensive photographing, confessed specifically to the Robinson killing, and yielded up nearly the whole of their portable possessions in the way of domestic implements and utensils, face-painting material, pelican-skin robes, snake-skin necklaces, etc.

During the following autumn, the tribe, having settled their blood feud with outside blood, turned towards peace and sent a respected woman from the Turtle clan, named Juana Maria, to Costa Rica—specifically, Rancho de San Francisco de Costa Rica—where she was gradually joined by younger women and children, then by young men, and finally by warriors (following the traditional Seri approach to diplomacy), totaling around sixty people. They were discovered here by the first expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology in November 1894; and under the significant influence of the respected Don Pascual, along with small gifts and ongoing pressure, they gradually “shared their language,” participated in extensive photography sessions, admitted to the killing of Robinson, and surrendered nearly all their portable possessions, including domestic tools and utensils, face-painting supplies, pelican-skin robes, snake-skin necklaces, and more.

With the return of the Bureau party to Hermosillo the Indians became restive and soon withdrew beyond the desert. In the course of the ensuing winter a group returned to the neighborhood of Costa Rica, where, by aid of strategy, seven warriors (including some of those seen at the rancho in the preceding November) with the families of four, were arrested, taken to Hermosillo, tried, and, according to oral accounts, banished. Irritated by this action, and connecting with it the visit of Don Pascual and the strangers desiring their language and sacred things, the clans resumed the warpath, displaying special animosity toward the residents of Costa Rica. There were a few minor skirmishes; then, at the instance of the state officials, a number of Papago Indians, who are feared by the Seri beyond all other enemies, were domiciled at the rancho, where their mere presence proved a sufficient protection. Meantime, according to apparently trustworthy press accounts, two small exploring parties entered Seriland; the first consisted of seven prospectors, who kept well together until about to leave the territory, when one of their number fell behind—and his companions saw him no more, though they carefully retraced their trail beyond the 121 point at which he had stopped; the other was a German naturalist-prospector with two mozos (servant-companions), purporting to hail from Chihuahua, who started across the delta-plain of Rio Bacuache and Desierto Encinas with saddle animals, and never reappeared.

With the Bureau party's return to Hermosillo, the Indians grew restless and quickly moved beyond the desert. During that winter, a group came back to the Costa Rica area, where, using strategy, seven warriors (including some from the rancho seen in November) along with the families of four were captured, taken to Hermosillo, tried, and, according to word of mouth, exiled. This action angered them, and linking it to Don Pascual's visit and the strangers wanting their language and sacred items, the clans went back to war, particularly targeting the residents of Costa Rica. There were a few minor clashes; then, at the request of state officials, several Papago Indians, who are feared by the Seri more than any other enemies, were settled at the rancho, where their presence provided enough protection. Meanwhile, according to seemingly reliable press reports, two small exploration groups entered Seriland; the first was made up of seven prospectors who stayed close together until they were about to leave the territory, when one fell behind—and his companions never saw him again, even though they carefully retraced their steps beyond the point where he had stopped; the second was a German naturalist-prospector with two mozos (servant-companions), claiming to be from Chihuahua, who began crossing the delta-plain of Rio Bacuache and Desierto Encinas with pack animals, and never resurfaced.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XII

GROUP OF SERI INDIANS ON TRADING EXCURSION

GROUP OF SERI INDIANS ON TRADING TRIP

Then came the second expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology, to which several Papago domiciled at Costa Rica were attached as guards. While the party were at the rancho the day before the first entrada into Seriland via Barranca Salina, a party of vaqueros from Rancho Santa Ana tended a herd of stock to the barranca for water; one of the animals strayed behind a dune, and the vaqueros, following its trail, came on a small band of Seri already devouring the entrails, and attacked them so vigorously that they escaped only by outrunning the horses, leaving behind all their unattached possessions, including a bow and quiver of arrows and an ancient and nonusable army rifle. This incident, albeit typical, was untimely, and doubtless aided in rendering the Indians too wild to permit communication with the aliens during the ensuing weeks spent in their territory.

Then came the second expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology, which included several Papago living in Costa Rica as guards. The day before the first entry into Seriland via Barranca Salina, a group of cowboys from Rancho Santa Ana brought a herd of cattle to the barranca for water; one of the animals wandered off behind a dune, and the cowboys, following its trail, stumbled upon a small group of Seri already eating the entrails. They attacked so fiercely that the Seri could only escape by outrunning the horses, leaving behind all their belongings, including a bow and quiver of arrows and an old, unusable army rifle. This incident, while typical, was poorly timed and likely contributed to the Indians becoming too wary to allow any communication with outsiders during the following weeks spent in their territory.

After the withdrawal of this expedition the Seri resumed their range over the borderland plain, with the evident intention of avenging the insult of the invasion. There were a number of skirmishes, in which some of the Papago guards of the 1895 expedition were wounded and had horses killed under them, though they did customary execution on the worse-armed Seri; and extensively published press items indicate that, toward the end of January, 1896, a party of five gold prospectors landed on Tiburon, whence one escaped.

After the expedition pulled back, the Seri returned to their territory in the borderland plain, clearly planning to take revenge for the invasion. There were several skirmishes in which some of the Papago guards from the 1895 expedition were injured and lost their horses, although they managed to handle the less equipped Seri. Widely published news stories suggest that by the end of January 1896, a group of five gold prospectors arrived on Tiburon, and one of them managed to escape.

A well-attested episode ensued toward the end of 1896: Captain George Porter and Sailor John Johnson spent the later part of the summer in cruising the coasts of the Gulf, collecting shells, feathers, and other curios in the small sloop World. About the end of October they apparently anchored in Rada Ballena; and a day or two later Captain Martin Mendez, of Guaymas, in charge of the schooner Otila, being driven up the gulf and into Bahia Kunkaak by storms, came on a horde of Seri looting Porter’s vessel. The episode received publicity on Mendez’s return to Guaymas; United States Consular Agent Crocker instituted inquiries, and Governor Corral sent a force to Costa Rica, where, after some delay, a parley was held with a strong band of Seri under the chiefship of “a seven-foot warrior named El Mudo (The Mute), ... so called for his reticence of speech.”223 The testimony obtained at the parley and from Captain Mendez indicates that Porter and Johnson landed, or at least approached the shore, probably in a small boat; that they were met by a shower of arrows, under which Johnson immediately fell, while Porter defended himself with a shotgun, 122 slaying five of the Seri before he was himself transfixed; that the vessel was then looted, and that Mendez and his crew were prevented from landing and apparently driven off by the Seri force. In the course of the parley the state officials “demanded the surrender of the ringleaders in the massacre”, with the alternative of “regarding the whole tribe as guilty and punishing them accordingly”; but El Mudo, evidently holding the invasion of the island as the initial transgression and deeming the loss of the tribe under Porter’s marksmanship as more than commensurate with the Caucasian loss, peremptorily ended the conference and returned to the island. Vigorous efforts were made to pursue the tribesmen beyond their practically impassable frontier, with the usual product of ruined horses and famished riders. Then the episode died away in an armed neutrality strained somewhat beyond the normal. Meantime the Papago guards remained at Costa Rica. “They are continuously on the lookout for these Seris, and once or twice have killed a stray one or two.”224

A well-documented incident occurred toward the end of 1896: Captain George Porter and Sailor John Johnson spent the latter part of the summer cruising the Gulf coast, collecting shells, feathers, and other curiosities on the small sloop World. Around the end of October, they apparently anchored in Rada Ballena, and a day or two later, Captain Martin Mendez from Guaymas, in charge of the schooner Otila, was forced up the gulf and into Bahia Kunkaak by storms, where he encountered a group of Seri raiding Porter’s vessel. The incident gained attention upon Mendez’s return to Guaymas; United States Consular Agent Crocker opened an investigation, and Governor Corral dispatched a force to Costa Rica, where, after some delays, discussions were held with a strong group of Seri led by a seven-foot warrior known as El Mudo (The Mute), who earned his name for his silence. The testimony gathered during the discussions and from Captain Mendez indicates that Porter and Johnson landed, or at least got close to the shore, likely in a small boat; they were met with a barrage of arrows, and Johnson immediately fell, while Porter defended himself with a shotgun, killing five of the Seri before he himself was struck down; the vessel was then looted, and Mendez and his crew were prevented from landing and seemingly driven off by the Seri. During the discussions, the state officials “demanded the surrender of the ringleaders in the massacre,” threatening to “hold the entire tribe accountable and punish them accordingly”; however, El Mudo, clearly seeing the invasion of the island as the initial wrongdoing and considering the losses suffered by the tribe due to Porter’s shooting as more than enough to offset the losses on the Caucasian side, abruptly ended the talks and returned to the island. Strong efforts were made to track the tribesmen beyond their almost impenetrable territory, resulting in ruined horses and starved riders. Eventually, the incident faded into an armed neutrality that was somewhat more tense than usual. Meanwhile, the Papago guards remained in Costa Rica. “They are always on the lookout for these Seris, and have killed a stray one or two on a couple of occasions.”223

Both before and after the Porter-Johnson episode schemes were devised by various parties, chiefly Californians, for obtaining concessions covering Tiburon and its resources, most of these schemes involving plans for the extermination of the Seri; and press accounts indicate that a concession covering the islands of the gulf above the latitude of 29° (i. e., including about half of Isla Tiburon) was granted to an American company of much distinction. It would appear from numerous news items that representatives of the company sought to land on Tiburon, where they were first cajoled with offerings of food, afterward found to be poisonous, and later driven off by an enlarged force of naked archers. A recent publication bearing some official sanction announces that “Mr W. J. Lyons, of Hermosillo, Sonora, has secured a concession for the exploration of the island and in November of this year will fit out an expedition for that purpose.”225 The various movements are significant as indices of current opinion and official policy with respect to the tribe.

Both before and after the Porter-Johnson incident, different groups, mainly from California, devised plans to obtain concessions for Tiburon and its resources. Most of these plans included strategies for eliminating the Seri people. News reports suggest that a concession covering the islands in the Gulf north of latitude 29° (which includes about half of Isla Tiburon) was granted to a very reputable American company. Various news items indicate that representatives of this company tried to land on Tiburon, where they were initially lured with food offerings that turned out to be poisonous, and were later chased off by a larger group of armed archers. A recent publication with some official backing states that "Mr. W. J. Lyons, from Hermosillo, Sonora, has secured a concession for the exploration of the island and plans to launch an expedition for that purpose in November of this year."225 These various movements are important as indicators of current opinions and official policies regarding the tribe.


On the whole, the later episodes are natural sequels of the eventful and striking earlier history of the Seri; and they can only be interpreted as pointing to early extinction of one of the most strongly marked and distinctive of aboriginal tribes. 123

Overall, the later episodes are a natural continuation of the dramatic and significant earlier history of the Seri, and they can only be seen as indicating the early extinction of one of the most distinctive and recognizable indigenous tribes. 123


TRIBAL FEATURES

Definition and Terms

According to Mashém and the clanmother known as Juana Maria, the proper name of the tribe known as Seri is Kunkáak (the first vowel obscure and the succeeding consonant nasalized; perhaps Kn-káak or Km-káak would better express the sound). According to Kolusio, as rendered by M Pinart, the Seri term for people or nation is kom-kak, while the Seri people are designated specifically as Kmike, this designation being practically equivalent phonetically (and doubtless semantically) to Sr Tenochio’s general term for women, kamykij. Mashém was unable or unwilling to give the precise signification of the tribal appellation used by him, merely indicating Juana Maria and one or two other elderwomen squatting near as examples or types; but comparison of the elements of the term with those used in other vocables affords a fairly clear inkling as to its meaning. The syllable kun (or kn, kon, kom, etc.) certainly connotes age and woman, and apparently connotes also life or living (kun-kaīe=old woman, McGee; i-kom=a wife, ekam=alive, Bartlett; hikkam=a wife, kmam-kikamman=a married woman, Yak-kom=Yaqui tribe, Pinart; kon-kabre=an old woman, Tenochio), the forms being distinct from the word for woman (kmamm, McGee; ék-e-mam, Bartlett; kmam, Pinart and Tenochio) and widely different from the term for man (kŭ-tŭmm, McGee; ék-e-tam, Bartlett; ktam, Pinart; tam, Tenochio) with its several combining variants; there are also indications in numerous vocables that it connotes person or personality. On the whole, the syllable appears to be an ill-formulated or uncrystallized expression, denoting at once and associatively (1) the state of living or being, (2) personality, (3) age or ancientness (or both), and (4) either femininity or maternity (much more probably the latter), this inchoate condition of the term being quite in accord with other characters of the Seri tongue, and frequently paralleled among other primitive languages. The syllable kaak (or kak, and probably kok, koj, kolch, etc.) would seem to be a still more vague and colloidal term, despite the fact that it is used separately to designate the fire-drill. There are fairly decisive indications that it is composite, the initial portion denoting place and the final portion perhaps more vaguely connoting class or kind with an implication of excellence, both elements appearing in various vocables (too numerous to quote). On the whole, kaak would appear to be a typical egocentric or ethnocentric term, designating and dignifying Person, Place, Time, 124 and Mode, after the manner characteristic of primitive thought;226 so that it may perhaps be translated “Our-Great-(or Strong-)Kind-Now-Here”. The combination of the two syllables affords a characteristically colloidal connotation of concepts, common enough in primitive use, but not expressible by any single term of modern language; in a descriptive way the complete term might be interpreted as “Our-Living-Ancient-Strongkind-Elderwomen-Now-Here,” while with the utmost elision the interpretation could hardly be reduced beyond “Our-Great-Motherfolk-Here” without fatal loss of original signification. It should be noted that the designation is made to cover the animals of Seriland (at least the zoic tutelaries of the tribe) and fire as well as the human folk.

According to Mashém and the clan mother known as Juana Maria, the actual name of the tribe called Seri is Kunkáak (the first vowel is unclear, and the next consonant is nasalized; perhaps Kn-káak or Km-káak would better represent the sound). Kolusio, as interpreted by M Pinart, states that the Seri word for people or nation is kom-kak, while the Seri people are specifically referred to as Kmike, this term being nearly phonetically (and likely semantically) equivalent to Sr Tenochio’s general word for women, kamykij. Mashém couldn't or didn't want to provide the exact meaning of the tribal name he used, only pointing to Juana Maria and one or two other elder women nearby as examples; however, comparing the elements of the term with those in other words gives a fairly clear idea of its meaning. The syllable kun (or kn, kon, kom, etc.) definitely implies age and woman, and seemingly also suggests life or living (kun-kaīe=old woman, McGee; i-kom=a wife, ekam=alive, Bartlett; hikkam=a wife, kmam-kikamman=a married woman, Yak-kom=Yaqui tribe, Pinart; kon-kabre=an old woman, Tenochio), with these forms being different from the word for woman (kmamm, McGee; ék-e-mam, Bartlett; kmam, Pinart and Tenochio) and quite unlike the term for man (kŭ-tŭmm, McGee; ék-e-tam, Bartlett; ktam, Pinart; tam, Tenochio) along with its various combining forms; there are also signs in many words that it suggests person or personality. Overall, the syllable seems to be a poorly defined or not fully established expression, indicating at once (1) the state of living or being, (2) personality, (3) age or ancientness (or both), and (4) either femininity or motherhood (most likely the latter). This vague quality of the term aligns with other features of the Seri language and is often reflected in other primitive languages. The syllable kaak (or kak, and probably kok, koj, kolch, etc.) appears to be an even more ambiguous and fluid term, even though it is used on its own to refer to the fire-drill. There are quite strong signs that it is a composite term, with the first part indicating place and the last part perhaps more generally suggesting class or kind, implying excellence, as both parts appear in various words (too many to list). Overall, kaak seems to be a typical egocentric or ethnocentric term, designating and honoring Person, Place, Time, 124 and Mode, in a way characteristic of primitive thought; so it could possibly be translated as “Our-Great-(or Strong-)Kind-Now-Here.” The combination of the two syllables provides a characteristically fluid meaning of concepts, common in primitive use but not expressible by any single term in modern language; descriptively, the complete term could be interpreted as “Our-Living-Ancient-Strongkind-Elderwomen-Now-Here,” while if overly simplified, it could hardly be reduced beyond “Our-Great-Motherfolk-Here” without losing essential meaning. It's important to note that the term is intended to encompass not only the people of Seriland (at least the spiritual guardians of the tribe) but also animals and fire.

The proper tribe name is of no small interest as an index to primitive thought, and as an illustration of an early stage in linguistic development. It is significant, too, as an expression of the matronymic organization, and of the leading role played by the clanmothers in the simple legislative and judicative affairs of the tribe; and it is especially significant as an indication of the intimate association of fire and life in primitive thought.

The correct tribe name is quite important as a clue to early thinking and as an example of an early phase in language development. It also highlights the importance of matronymic structures and the key role that clanmothers had in the simple laws and judicial matters of the tribe. Additionally, it’s especially notable as a sign of the strong connection between fire and life in primitive thinking.


The designation “Seri”, with its several variants, is undoubtedly an alien appellation, and neither Mashém nor Kolusio could throw light on its origin or meaning, though they did not apparently regard it as opprobrious. Peñafiel describes it as an Opata term; and Pimentel’s Opata vocabulary227 (extracted from the grammar and dictionary compiled by Padre Natal Lombardo) indicates its meaning satisfactorily, albeit without special reference to the tribe. The key term in this vocabulary is “Sërerài, velocidad de la persona que corre.” The accent over the first vowel serves to indicate prolongation, so that term and definition may be rendered, literally, se-ererài, speed of the person who runs. Analysis of the term shows that the essential factor or root is that introduced elsewhere in the same vocabulary as “Ere, llegar.” Now, “llegar” is a protean and undifferentiated Spanish verb neuter, without satisfactory English equivalent; it may be interpreted as arrive, reach, attain, fetch, endure, continue, accomplish, suffice, ascend, or mount to, while as a verb active and verb reflective its equivalents are approach, join, proceed a little distance, unite, etc.; it may be said to imply movement or process with a centripetal connotation—i. e., a connotation antithetic to that of the expressive irregular verb “ir” in its protean forms, including the ubiquitous and ever-present “vamos” (an American slang equivalent of the Castilian verb “llegar” in certain of its phases is the strong interjectory phrase, “get together”). The prefix se is merely an intensive, running not merely through the Opata, but throughout various tongues of the Piman stock. In his extensive vocabulary of the Pima and Papago Indians of Arizona (1871),228 Captain 125 F. E. Grossmann defines the term “se, very, ad. (prefix)”, and over a hundred and fifty of his terms illustrate the use of this adjectival or adverbial prefix as an undifferentiated yet vigorous intensive (e. g., uf, female or woman, se-uf, a lady—great or grand woman; ō´k, high or height, se-ō´k, highmost); and in the Pimentel vocabulary this signification is attested by several other terms (e. g., “Sererai, paso menudo y bueno”). Finally, the intercalated consonant r is a common participial element in the Piman, while the suffix ài is a habitual assertive termination, as shown by various terms in the Pimentel and other vocabularies. Dropping this termination, the expression becomes se-erer, or—without the nonessential participial element—se-ere, signifying (so far as can be ascertained from the construction of the language) “moving”, or “mover”, qualified by a vigorous intensive.229 To one familiar with the strikingly light movement characteristic of the Seri—a movement far lighter than that of the professional sprinter or of the thoroughbred “collected” by a skilful equestrian, and recalling that of the antelope skimming the plain in recurrent impulses of unseen hoof-touches, or that of the alert coyote seemingly floating eerily about the slumbering camp—this appellation appears peculiarly fit; for it is the habit of the errant Seri to roam spryly and swiftly on soundless tiptoes, to come and go like fleeting shadows of passing cloudlets, and on detection to slip behind shrub or rock and into the distance so lightly as to make no audible sign or visible trail, yet so fleetly withal as to evade the hard-riding horseman. The Seri range over a region of runners: the Opata themselves are no mean racers, since, according to Velasco and Bartlett, “In twenty-four hours they have been known to run from 40 to 50 leagues”;230 and, according to Lumholtz, their collinguals, the Tarahumari, or “Counting-Runners”, are named from their custom of racing,231 and display almost incredible endurance:

The term “Seri,” along with its various forms, is definitely a foreign name, and neither Mashém nor Kolusio could clarify its origin or meaning, though they didn’t seem to see it as offensive. Peñafiel describes it as an Opata word, and Pimentel’s Opata vocabulary227 (taken from the grammar and dictionary created by Padre Natal Lombardo) explains its meaning well, even if it doesn’t specifically mention the tribe. The key term in this vocabulary is “Sërerài, speed of a person running.” The accent on the first vowel indicates elongation, so the term and definition can be interpreted as se-ererài, the speed of the person who runs. Analyzing the term reveals that the core element or root is introduced elsewhere in the same vocabulary as “Ere, to arrive.” Now, “llegar” is a flexible and undefined Spanish verb with no exact English equivalent; it can mean arrive, reach, attain, fetch, endure, continue, accomplish, suffice, ascend, or mount to. As an active or reflexive verb, its equivalents include approach, join, proceed a little, unite, etc.; it suggests movement or process with a centripetal meaning—which opposes the meaning of the dynamic irregular verb “ir” in its various forms, including the ubiquitous and ever-present “vamos” (an American slang equivalent of the Castilian verb “llegar” in certain uses is the strong exclamatory phrase, “get together”). The prefix se is just an intensifier, used not only in Opata but also across different languages of the Piman group. In his comprehensive vocabulary of the Pima and Papago Indians of Arizona (1871),228 Captain F. E. Grossmann defines the term “se, very, ad. (prefix),” and over a hundred and fifty of his terms demonstrate the use of this adjectival or adverbial prefix as a unified yet powerful intensifier (e.g., uf, female or woman, se-uf, a lady—great or grand woman; ō´k, high or height, se-ō´k, highest); and in the Pimentel vocabulary, this meaning is confirmed by several other terms (e.g., “Sererai, small and good step”). Lastly, the inserted consonant r is a common participial element in Piman, while the suffix ài is a typical assertive ending, as demonstrated by various terms in the Pimentel and other vocabularies. Removing this suffix, the expression becomes se-erer, or—without the nonessential participial element—se-ere, meaning (as much as can be understood from the language structure) “moving” or “mover,” enhanced by a strong intensifier.229 For someone familiar with the notably light movement characteristic of the Seri—a movement much lighter than that of a professional sprinter or a well-trained horse controlled by a skilled rider, reminiscent of an antelope gliding across the plain in repeated silent leaps, or a cautious coyote seemingly drifting around a sleeping camp—this name seems particularly appropriate; because it is the nature of the wandering Seri to move briskly and quietly on soundless tiptoes, to come and go like fleeting shadows of passing clouds, and when noticed, to slip behind bushes or rocks and into the distance so quietly that they leave no audible trace or visible path, yet so swiftly that they can escape even the hard-riding horseman. The Seri move over a land of runners: the Opata themselves are skilled racers, since, according to Velasco and Bartlett, “In twenty-four hours they have been known to run from 40 to 50 leagues”;230 and, according to Lumholtz, their close kin, the Tarahumari, or “Counting-Runners,” are named for their tradition of racing,231 displaying almost unbelievable endurance:

An Indian has been known to carry a letter from Guazapares to Chihuahua and back again in five days, the distance being nearly 800 miles. In some parts where the Tarahumaris serve the Mexicans they are used to run in the wild horses, driving them into the corral. It may take them two or three days to do it, sleeping at night and living on a little pinole. They bring in the horses thoroughly exhausted, while they themselves are still fresh. They will outrun any horses if you give them time enough. They will pursue deer in the snow or with dogs in the rain for days and days, until at last the animal is cornered and shot with arrows or falls an easy prey from sheer exhaustion, its hoofs dropping off.232

An Indian has been known to deliver a letter from Guazapares to Chihuahua and back in just five days, covering almost 800 miles. In some regions where the Tarahumara people help the Mexicans, they are recognized for rounding up wild horses and herding them into a corral. This process can take two or three days, during which they sleep at night and survive on a bit of pinole. They bring the horses in completely exhausted, while they themselves remain energized. They can outrun any horse if given enough time. They can chase deer in the snow or with dogs in the rain for days, until the animal is eventually cornered and shot with arrows, or collapses from extreme exhaustion, its hooves giving out. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

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The Papago, of the same region and linguistic stock, have a racing game in which a ball of wood or stone caught on the foot is thrown, followed, and thrown again until the two or more rival racers have covered 20 to 40 miles in the course of a few hours; and their feats as couriers and trailers are quite up to those of the Opata. Yet among all these tribes, and among the Mexicans as well, the Seri are known as the runners par excellence of the Sonoran province; and it is but natural that their astounding swiftness and lightness of foot should have brought them an appellation among contemporaries to whom these qualities peculiarly appeal.

The Papago, from the same area and language group, have a racing game where a ball made of wood or stone is kicked with the foot and thrown, then pursued and thrown again, until the two or more competing racers have covered 20 to 40 miles in just a few hours; their skills as couriers and chasers are quite comparable to those of the Opata. However, among all these tribes, and even among the Mexicans, the Seri are recognized as the top runners of the Sonoran province; it’s only natural that their incredible speed and agility have earned them a reputation among people who highly value these traits.

Accordingly, both derivation and connotation give meaning to the name, and warrant the rendering (much weakened by linguistic infelicities) of “spry” or “spry-moving”, used in substantive sense and with an intensive implication.

Accordingly, both derivation and connotation provide meaning to the name and justify the translation (which is much weakened by linguistic shortcomings) of “spry” or “spry-moving,” used in a substantive sense and with an intensive implication.


The chronicles of the tribe, especially those written during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, indicate that the alien designation was applied loosely and with little appreciation of the tribal organization, just as was the case elsewhere throughout the continent. Gradually the chroniclers took cognizance of intertribal and intratribal relations, and introduced various distinctions in nomenclature expressing tribal or subtribal distinctions of greater or less importance. One of the earliest distinctions was that between the Seri and the Tepoka, and this distinction has been consistently maintained by nearly all later authorities, despite the commonly accepted fact (brought out most authoritatively by Hardy) that the tongues of the tribes are substantially alike. Another early distinction was that made between the Seri and the Guayma; it was based primarily on diversity of habitat and persistent enmity, though all the earlier authorities agreed, as well shown by Ramirez, that the tongues were essentially identical. The distinction has been maintained by most authorities and strongly emphasized by one (Pinart, as quoted by Bandelier), and since the Guayma are extinct, and hence beyond reach of direct inquiry, the early interpretation of tribal relation must be perpetuated.233 Still another distinction was that made between the Upanguayma and the Guayma, and inferentially the Seri also; although the grounds for this distinction were not specifically stated, it seems to have grown out of diversity in habitat merely; but there were clear implications that the tribe or subtribe was affiliated linguistically with the Guayma, and hence with the Seri, and this assignment has been adopted by leading authorities, including Pimentel and Orozco. Among the earlier distinctions based on industrial 127 factors was the setting apart of the Salineros, or Seri Salineros; yet this distinction, fortuitous and variable at the best, expressed no essential character and has not been maintained. A much later distinction was that between the Seri and Tiburones, emphasized by Mühleupfordt and exaggerated by Buschmann; but there seem to have been no better grounds for it than misapprehensions naturally attending a slowly crystallizing nomenclature. In any event it has not been maintained.

The records of the tribe, especially those written in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, show that the term "alien" was used loosely and without a proper understanding of the tribal structure, just like in other parts of the continent. Over time, the chroniclers began to recognize intertribal and intratribal relationships and introduced various terms to indicate important tribal or subtribal distinctions. One of the earliest distinctions was between the Seri and the Tepoka, which has been consistently upheld by nearly all later authorities, even though it’s widely acknowledged (most convincingly stated by Hardy) that the languages of the tribes are largely similar. Another early distinction was made between the Seri and the Guayma; this was mainly based on differences in habitat and ongoing hostility, although earlier authorities, as illustrated by Ramirez, agreed that their languages were fundamentally the same. This distinction has been maintained by most authorities and strongly highlighted by one (Pinart, as quoted by Bandelier), and since the Guayma are extinct and can't be directly inquired about, the early interpretation of their tribal relations must continue. Still another distinction was made between the Upanguayma and the Guayma, and indirectly the Seri as well; although the reasons for this distinction weren't clearly stated, it seems to have arisen simply from differences in habitat. However, there were clear suggestions that this tribe or subtribe was linguistically connected to the Guayma, and therefore with the Seri, and this classification has been adopted by major authorities, including Pimentel and Orozco. Among the earlier distinctions based on industrial factors was the division of the Salineros, or Seri Salineros; however, this distinction, which was coincidental and variable at best, did not express any essential characteristics and has not been upheld. A much later distinction was made between the Seri and Tiburones, which was emphasized by Mühleupfordt and exaggerated by Buschmann; however, there seem to have been no more solid grounds for it than misunderstandings that naturally arise from a slowly forming nomenclature. In any case, it has not been maintained.

At several stages the chroniclers coupled the Seri with other tribes, on various grounds: in the eighteenth century they were thus combined with the Pima, the Piato, and especially the Apache tribes. In the earlier half of the nineteenth century they were frequently coupled in similar fashion with the Pima and Apache tribes, and in the later half of the nineteenth century, and even in its last lustrum, they have been similarly combined with the Yaqui. The later combinations seem to explain the earlier: the Yaqui outbreaks withdraw portions of the arm-bearing population from the Seri frontier, and the marauders take advantage of the withdrawal so regularly that a Yaqui scare is invariably followed by a Seri scare, and hence the two warlike tribes are constantly associated in the minds of the Sonorenses as synchronous insurrectionists; and scrutiny of the earlier chronicles indicates that most of the so-called combinations of former times were of similar sort.

At various points, the chroniclers linked the Seri with other tribes for different reasons. In the eighteenth century, they were grouped with the Pima, the Piato, and especially the Apache tribes. In the first half of the nineteenth century, they were often paired with the Pima and Apache tribes in a similar way, and in the latter half of the nineteenth century, even in its last five years, they've been similarly connected with the Yaqui. These later connections seem to clarify the earlier ones: the Yaqui uprisings pull parts of the armed population away from the Seri border, and the raiders take advantage of this movement so frequently that a scare involving the Yaqui is usually followed by a scare involving the Seri. As a result, the two warlike tribes are constantly seen together in the minds of the Sonorenses as concurrent rebels; a closer look at the earlier chronicles shows that most of the so-called pairings from back then were of a similar nature.

On putting the chronicles together, it seems clear that the term “Seri” was originally of lax application, but was gradually restricted to the tribe inhabiting Tiburon and ranging adjacent territory, including the collingual but inimical Guayma and Upanguayma, and also the collingual and cotolerant Tepoka; and that the various Piman tribes, as well as the Apache, were always distinct, and commonly if not invariably inimical.

On compiling the records, it’s evident that the term “Seri” was initially used loosely but gradually became specific to the tribe living on Tiburon and the surrounding area, which included the related yet hostile Guayma and Upanguayma, as well as the related and tolerant Tepoka. The different Piman tribes and the Apache were always distinct and often, if not always, hostile.


The ethnic relations of the Seri people attracted early and repeated attention. Humboldt gave currency, albeit not unquestioningly, to a supposed Chinese or related Oriental affiliation; Hardy noted the similarity of the Seri tongue to that of the Patagonians; Lavandera classed the language as Arabic; Stone and Bancroft circulated a supposed identification of the speech with the Welsh; Ramirez, and more especially Pimentel, narrowed the field of affiliation to Mexico and defined the tongue as distinct; Orozco y Berra, and more especially Malte-Brun, slightly reextended the field and suggested affiliation with the Caribs; while Herzog, Gatschet, and Brinton reextended the field in another direction and saw, in a vocabulary obtained from a Seri scion but alien thinker, similarities between the Serian and Yuman tongues. The recent researches tend strongly to corroborate the evidence collected and the conclusions reached by Ramirez and Pimentel; for the somewhat extended comparisons between the Serian and neighboring languages (introduced and discussed in other paragraphs) indicate that the 128 Seri tongue is distinct save for two or three Cochimi or other Yuman elements, which may be loan words such as might readily have been obtained through the largely inimical interchange of earlier centuries described by Padre Juan Maria de Sonora and other pioneer observers—certainly the slight and superficial similarities with other tongues of the region seem insufficient to meet the classific requirement of supposititious descent from “a common ancestral speech”.234 Accordingly the group may be defined (at least provisionally) as a linguistic family or stock, and may be distinguished by the family name long ago applied by Pimentel and Orozco, with the termination prescribed in Powell’s fifth rule,235 viz., Serian. Conformably, the classification of the group would become—

The ethnic relations of the Seri people drew early and ongoing interest. Humboldt popularized, though not without skepticism, a supposed connection to Chinese or related Oriental origins; Hardy pointed out the similarities between the Seri language and that of the Patagonians; Lavandera classified the language as Arabic; Stone and Bancroft spread a supposed link between the language and Welsh; Ramirez, especially Pimentel, focused the discussion on Mexico and characterized the language as distinct; Orozco y Berra, particularly Malte-Brun, slightly expanded the possible connections and suggested links with the Caribs; while Herzog, Gatschet, and Brinton looked in another direction and noted similarities between the Seri language and Yuman languages based on a vocabulary sourced from a Seri descendant but an outsider. Recent research strongly supports the evidence and conclusions drawn by Ramirez and Pimentel; the somewhat extensive comparisons between the Seri language and neighboring languages (explored in other paragraphs) indicate that the Seri language is distinct except for a few Cochimi or other Yuman elements, which might be loan words that could have been easily acquired through the largely hostile exchanges of earlier centuries described by Padre Juan Maria de Sonora and other early observers—definitely, the minor and superficial similarities with other languages in the region seem too insufficient to fulfill the classification requirement of assumed descent from “a common ancestral speech.” Accordingly, the group can be defined (at least provisionally) as a linguistic family or stock and can be distinguished by the family name previously assigned by Pimentel and Orozco, following the ending specified in Powell’s fifth rule, viz., Serian. Consequently, the classification of the group would become—

Serian stock, comprising—
Seri tribe, including Tiburones and (certain) Salineros;
Tepoka tribe;
Guayma tribe;
Upanguayma tribe.

Serian stock, including—
Seri tribe, which includes the Tiburones and some Salineros; Tepoka tribe; Guayma tribe; Upanguayma tribe.

Naturally this classification is provisional in certain respects. It is little more than tentative in so far as the Tepoka are concerned, since no word of the Tepoka tongue has ever been recorded, so far as is known, and since the tribe is still extant and within reach of research; it must be held provisional also in respect to the separateness of the stock, which may be found in the future to be affiliated with neighboring stocks, though the effect of the more recent and more critical researches in eliminating supposed evidences of affiliation points in the opposite direction. The arrangement is in some measure provisional also with respect to the relations between the long-extinct Guayma and Upanguayma and the type tribe, especially since contrary suggestion has been offered in terms implying the existence of unpublished data; yet the presumption in favor of the critical work by Ramirez, Pimentel, and Orozco is so strong that practically this feature of the classification may be deemed final.

Naturally, this classification is temporary in certain ways. It’s basically just a guess regarding the Tepoka, since no words from the Tepoka language have ever been recorded, as far as anyone knows, and since the tribe still exists and is available for study; it should also be considered temporary concerning the distinctiveness of the group, which may eventually prove to be related to neighboring groups. However, recent and more rigorous research has suggested otherwise, challenging earlier assumptions of connections. This arrangement is also somewhat temporary in regards to the relationships between the long-extinct Guayma and Upanguayma and the type tribe, especially given that contradicting suggestions have been made that imply there’s unpublished information available. Still, the evidence supporting the critical work by Ramirez, Pimentel, and Orozco is so compelling that we can realistically consider this aspect of the classification as final.


No attempt has been made to render the tribal synonymy exhaustive, though search of the records has incidentally brought out the more important synonyms, as follows:

No effort has been made to make the tribal synonyms complete, but a search of the records has unintentionally highlighted the more significant synonyms, as follows:

Seri Tribe

Ceres—1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 95.

Ceres — 1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 95.

Ceri—1875; Pimentel, Lenguas Indígenas, tomo II, p. 229.

Ceri—1875; Pimentel, Indigenous Languages, vol. II, p. 229.

Ceris—1745; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 391.

Ceris—1745; Villa-Señor, The American Theater, p. 391.

Ceris Tepocas—1850; Velasco, Noticias Estadísticas, p. 132.

Ceris Tepocas—1850; Velasco, Statistical News, p. 132.

Heri—1854; Buschmann, Die Spuren der aztekischen Sprache, p. 221.

Heri—1854; Buschmann, The Traces of the Aztec Language, p. 221.

Heris—1645; Ribas, Triumphos de Nuestra Santa Fee, p. 358.

Heris—1645; Ribas, Triumphs of Our Holy Faith, p. 358.

Herises—1690 (?); Van der Aa, map. 129*

Herises—1690 (?); Van der Aa, map. 129*

Sadi—1896; San Francisco Chronicle, January 24.

Sadi—1896; San Francisco Chronicle, January 24.

Se-ere—Etymologic form.

Se-ere—Etymology form.

Seres—1844; Mühlenpfordt, Republik Mejico, Band I, p. 210.

Species—1844; Mühlenpfordt, Republic of Mexico, Volume I, p. 210.

Seri—1754; [Ortega], Apostolicos Afanes, p. 244.

Serious—1754; [Ortega], Apostolicos Afanes, p. 244.

Seris—1694; Mange, Resumen de Noticias (Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, série 4, tomo I, p. 235).

Seris—1694; Mange, Summary of News (Documents for the History of Mexico, series 4, volume I, p. 235).

Seri Salineros—1842; Alegre, Historia de la Compañia de Jesus, tomo III, p. 117.

Salineros Series—1842; Alegre, History of the Society of Jesus, vol. III, p. 117.

Seris Salineros—1694; Mange, Resumen de Noticias (Documentos, série 4, tomo I, p. 321).

Seris Saltworkers—1694; Mange, Summary of News (Documents, series 4, volume I, p. 321).

Serys—1754; [Ortega], Apostolicos Afanes, p. 367.

Serys—1754; [Ortega], Apostolic Efforts, p. 367.

Soris—1900; Deniker, The Races of Man, p. 533.

Soris—1900; Deniker, The Races of Man, p. 533.

SSeri—1883; Gatschet, Der Yuma Sprachstamm, p. 129.

SSeri—1883; Gatschet, The Yuma Language Family, p. 129.

Zeris—1731; Dominguez, Diario (MS.).

Zeris—1731; Dominguez, Journal (MS.).

Kmike—1879; Pinart, MS. vocabulary.

Kmike—1879; Pinart, MS. vocabulary.

Komkak—1879; Pinart, MS. vocabulary.

Komkak—1879; Pinart, MS. dictionary.

Kunkaak—1896; McGee and Johnson, “Seriland”, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. VII, p. 133.

Kunkaak—1896; McGee and Johnson, “Seriland”, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. VII, p. 133.

Salineros—1727; Rivera, Diario y Derrotero, I. 514-1519.

Salty workers—1727; Rivera, Diary and Itinerary, I. 514-1519.

Tiburon—1799; Cortez (Pacific Railroad Reports, vol. III, p. 122).

Tiburon—1799; Cortez (Pacific Railroad Reports, vol. III, p. 122).

Tiburones—1792; Arricivita, Crónica Seráfica, segunda parte, p. 426.

Sharks—1792; Arricivita, Crónica Seráfica, second part, p. 426.

Tiburow Ceres—1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 299.

Tiburow Ceres—1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 299.

Tepoka Tribe

Tepeco—1847; Disturnell, Mapa de los Estados Unidos de Mejico, New York.

Tepeco—1847; Disturnell, Map of the United States of Mexico, New York.

Tepoca—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 392.

Time Frame—1748; Villa-Señor, American Theatre, p. 392.

Tepoca Ceres—1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 299.

Ceres Era—1826; Hardy, Travels, p. 299.

Tepocas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 391.

Eras—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 391.

Tepococ—1865; Velasco, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., tomo XI, p. 125.

Tepococ—1865; Velasco, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., tomo XI, p. 125.

Tepoka—Phonetic form.

Tepoka—Pronunciation guide.

Tepopa—1875; Dewey, map.

Tepopa—1875; Dewey, map.

Tepoquis—1757; Venegas, Noticia, tomo II, p. 343.

Tepoquis—1757; Venegas, Noticia, vol II, p. 343.

Topokis—1702; Kino, map (in Stocklein, Der Neue Welt-Bott).

Tteokbokki—1702; Kino, map (in Stocklein, The New World Archive).

Topoquis—1701; Kino, map (in Bancroft, Works, vol. XVII, 1889, p. 360).

Topoquis—1701; Kino, map (in Bancroft, Works, vol. XVII, 1889, p. 360).

Guayma Tribe

Baymas—1754; [Ortega], Apostolicos Afanes, p. 377.

Baymas—1754; [Ortega], Apostolicos Afanes, p. 377.

Gayama—1826 (?); Pike (Balbi), (in Pimentel, Lenguas Indígenas, tomo II, p. 234).

Gayama—1826 (?); Pike (Balbi), (in Pimentel, Indigenous Languages, vol II, p. 234).

Guaima—1861; Buckingham Smith, Heve Grammar, p. 7.

Guaima—1861; Buckingham Smith, Heve Grammar, p. 7.

Guaimas—1702; Kino, map (in Stocklein, Der Neue Welt-Bott).

Guaimas—1702; Kino, map (in Stocklein, The New World Report).

Guayamas—1757; Venegas, Noticias, tomo II, p. 79.

Guaymas—1757; Venegas, News, vol. II, p. 79.

Guayma—1701; Juan Maria de Sonora, Report (Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, série 4, tomo V, p. 154).

Guaymas—1701; Juan Maria de Sonora, Report (Documents for the History of Mexico, series 4, volume V, p. 154).

Guaymas—1700; Juan Maria de Sonora, Report (Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, série 4, tomo V, p. 126).

Guaymas—1700; Juan Maria de Sonora, Report (Documents for the History of Mexico, series 4, volume V, p. 126).

Guaymi—1882; Bancroft Works, vol. III, (Native Races, vol. III), p. 704.

Guaymi—1882; Bancroft Works, vol. III, (Native Races, vol. III), p. 704.

Guaymis—1844; Mühlenpfordt, Republik Mejico, Band I, p. 210.

Guaymi—1844; Mühlenpfordt, Republic of Mexico, Volume I, p. 210.

Gueimas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 401.

Gueimas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 401.

Gueymas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 402.

Güebox—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 402.

Guiamas—1763; [Nentwig?], Rudo Ensayo, p. 229.

Guiamas—1763; [Nentwig?], Rudo Ensayo, p. 229.

Guimies (?)—1701; Kino, map (Bancroft, Works, vol. XVII, 1889, p. 360).

Guimies (?)—1701; Kino, map (Bancroft, Works, vol. XVII, 1889, p. 360).

Upanguayma Tribe

Houpin Guaymas—1829; Hardy, map.

Houpin Guaymas—1829; Hardy, map.

Jumpanguaymas—1860; Velasco, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., tomo VIII, p. 292.

Jumpanguaymas—1860; Velasco, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., vol VIII, p. 292.

Jupangueimas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 401. 130*

Jupangueimas—1748; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, p. 401. 130*

Opan Guaimas—1763; [Nentwig?], Rudo Ensayo, p. 229.

Opan Guaimas—1763; [Nentwig?], Rudo Ensayo, p. 229.

Upanguaima—1864; Orozco y Berra, Geografía de las Lenguas, p. 42.

Upanguaima—1864; Orozco y Berra, Geography of Languages, p. 42.

Upanguaimas—1878; Malte-Brun, Congrès International des Américanistes, tome II, p. 38.

Upanguaimas—1878; Malte-Brun, International Congress of Americanists, volume II, p. 38.

Upanguayma—Synthetic form.

Upanguayma—Synthesized version.

Upanguaymas—1882; Bancroft, Works (Native Races, vol. I, p. 605).

Upanguaymas—1882; Bancroft, Works (Native Races, vol. I, p. 605).

Upan-Guaymas—1890; Bandelier, Investigations in the Southwest, p. 75.

Upan-Guaymas—1890; Bandelier, Investigations in the Southwest, p. 75.

Possibly the name Cocomagues (1864, Orozco y Berra, Geografía de las Lenguas, p. 42), or Cocomaques (1727, Rivera, Diario y Derrotero, I. 1514-1519) should be introduced among the synonyms of the Seri, but in the absence of definite information it may perhaps better be left unassigned.236

Possibly the name Cocomagues (1864, Orozco y Berra, Geografía de las Lenguas, p. 42), or Cocomaques (1727, Rivera, Diario y Derrotero, I. 1514-1519) should be included among the synonyms of the Seri, but in the absence of clear information, it might be better to leave it unassigned.236

Of the four tribes assigned to the stock, the Upanguayma have been extinct probably for more than a century; the Guayma may survive in a few representatives probably of mixed blood and adopted language; the Tepoka have never received systematic investigation, but appear to survive in limited numbers on the eastern coast of Gulf of California about the embouchure of the Rio Ignacio sand-wash; while the Seri alone continue to form a prominent factor in Sonoran thought.

Of the four tribes assigned to the group, the Upanguayma have likely been extinct for over a century; the Guayma might still exist in a few individuals who are probably of mixed heritage and have adopted a different language; the Tepoka have never been thoroughly studied, but seem to survive in small numbers on the eastern coast of the Gulf of California near the mouth of the Rio Ignacio sand-wash; while the Seri alone still play an important role in Sonoran culture.

External Relations

The most conspicuous characteristic of the Seri tribe as a whole is isolation. The geographic position and physical features of their habitat favor, and indeed measurably compel, isolation: their little principality is protected on one side by stormy seas and on the other by still more forbidding deserts; their home is too hard and poor to tempt conquest, and their possessions too meager to invite spoliation; hence, under customary conditions, they never see neighbors save in chance encounters on their frontier or in their own predatory forays—and in either case the encounters are commonly inimical. The natural isolation of the habitat is reflected in modes of life and habits of thought; and during the ages the physical isolation has come to be reflected in a bitter and implacable hereditary enmity toward aliens—an enmity apparently forming the strongest motive in their life and thought, and indeed grown into a persistent instinct. Thus the Seri stand alone in every respect; they are isolated in habitat and still more intensely isolated in habits of thought and life from all contemporaries; they far out-Ishmael the Ishmael of old on Araby’s deserts.

The most noticeable characteristic of the Seri tribe as a whole is isolation. Their geographic location and the physical features of their environment encourage, and really force, isolation: their small territory is shielded on one side by rough seas and on the other by even harsher deserts; their land is too tough and poor to attract conquerors, and their resources are too limited to invite plundering. Therefore, under normal circumstances, they only encounter neighbors during random meetings on their border or during their own raids—and in both situations, these encounters are usually hostile. The natural isolation of their habitat is mirrored in their way of life and mindset; over the years, this physical isolation has led to a deep and unyielding resentment toward outsiders—an animosity that seems to be the strongest driving force in their lives and thoughts, eventually becoming a kind of instinct. As a result, the Seri stand apart in every way; they are isolated in their environment and even more intensely isolated in their ways of thinking and living compared to all others around them; they surpass even the old Ishmael in the deserts of Arabia.

The isolation of the Seri in thought and feeling is well illustrated by the relations with their nearest neighbors (activitally as well as geographically), the Papago Indians. The Papago are much esteemed in Sonora as fearless fighters, always ready to join or even to lead a forlorn hope; yet when the expedition of 1895 was projected it was found no easy matter to induce the picked Papago guards quartered at Costa Rica to enter Seriland. They were ready, indeed mildly eager, for fray, provided it were on the frontier; but they held back in dread 131* from actual invasion of the territory of the hereditary enemy. Like representatives of the faith-dominated culture-grades generally, they spoke weightily of inherent rights descended from the ancient time, even back unto the creation; they repeatedly declared the right of the Seri to protect their territory because it was theirs; yet their converse but served to show the depth and persistence of their abhorrence of the Seri and of everything pertaining to them. And when gales arose to delay the work, when the frail craft of the party was storm-buffeted and lost for days, when they were seized with the strange sickness of the sea, when the salt and sugar mysteriously disappeared (having been secretly sacrificed to diminish suffering from thirst), when all of the earth-powers and air-powers seemed to be arrayed against the expedition, they stoically held it to be but just punishment for a sacrilegious infraction of the ancient law—and their steady adherence to duty, despite tradition and physical difficulty and constant danger, revealed a real heroism. The strain was no slight one; it may have been felt more by the stay-at-homes than by the men in action; certainly a sister of one of the party (Anton Castillo) and spouse of a supporter at the supply station broke under the strain, and died of her terrors—and the return of the party was, to the Papago women and oldsters at least, as the rising of the dead. The dread inspired by the personal presence of the alien is stronger still; when the Seri rancheria at Costa Rica was visited in 1894 it was found needful to keep the Papago interpreter and others of the tribe at a distance, since the mere sight of the inimical tribesmen threw even the women and children into watchful irritation, like that of range-bred horses at scent of bear or timber-wolf, or that of oft-harried cats and swine at sight of passing dog—they instinctively huddled into circles facing outward, and ceased to think connectedly under the stress of nervous tension. The irritation was so far mutual that it was days before the usually placid interpreter, José Lewis, recovered his normal spirits; while the 1895 interpreter, Hugh Morris, was actually rendered ill by the mere entrance into Seriland at Pozo Escalante. And the antipathy between Seri and Yaqui is nearly as great as that between the common-boundary neighbors.

The isolation of the Seri in their thoughts and feelings is clearly shown through their relationships with their closest neighbors, the Papago Indians, both socially and geographically. The Papago are highly regarded in Sonora as fearless fighters, always ready to join or even lead a difficult mission; however, when the expedition of 1895 was planned, it proved challenging to persuade the selected Papago guards stationed at Costa Rica to venture into Seriland. They were indeed somewhat eager for battle, as long as it was on the frontier; but they hesitated to actually invade the territory of their traditional enemy. Like typical representatives of their faith-driven culture, they spoke seriously about their inherent rights that had been passed down since ancient times, all the way back to creation; they repeatedly asserted the Seri's right to protect their land because it was theirs; yet their discussions only highlighted the deep-rooted and enduring dislike they held for the Seri and everything associated with them. When strong winds arose to delay their progress, when their fragile boat was tossed about by storms and took days to recover, when they were struck by the unusual sickness of the sea, when their supply of salt and sugar mysteriously vanished (having been secretly offered up to lessen their suffering from thirst), and when it seemed like all natural forces were against the expedition, they stoically believed it was just penalty for violating the ancient law—and their unwavering commitment to duty, despite tradition, physical challenges, and constant danger, revealed true heroism. The strain was significant; it might have affected those left behind more than the men in the field; certainly, the sister of one of the participants (Anton Castillo) and the wife of a supporter at the supply station succumbed to the pressure and died from her fears—and the return of the group was, at least for the Papago women and elders, like the resurrection of the dead. The fear triggered by the actual presence of outsiders is even stronger; when the Seri rancheria at Costa Rica was visited in 1894, it was necessary to keep the Papago interpreter and other tribe members at a distance because just seeing the hostile tribesmen caused even the women and children to become tense and alert, like range-bred horses catching the scent of a bear or timber wolf, or like frequently disturbed cats and pigs spotting a passing dog—they instinctively huddled into circles facing outward and were unable to think coherently under the strain of nervous tension. The irritation was mutual to the extent that it took days for the usually calm interpreter, José Lewis, to regain his normal demeanor; while the 1895 interpreter, Hugh Morris, actually became ill from the mere act of entering Seriland at Pozo Escalante. The animosity between the Seri and the Yaqui is almost as intense as that between these neighboring groups.

The instinctive antagonism, or race antipathy, between the Seri and the widely distinct Caucasian is less trenchant and intense than the local antipathy; yet even between Seri and Caucasian there would seem to be hardly a germ of sympathy. In the days of his prime, the Tiburon islanders flocked around Don Pascual, first as a provider of easy provender and later as a superpotent shaman whose wrath bore destruction; yet their allegiance was never more than that of the cowed and beaten brute to a hated trainer, and his coming never brought a smile to their stolid features—indeed, his passage among their jacales was met with the same stolid yet sinister indifference accorded the solitary visitor to a menagerie of caged carnivores. And no sooner did his vision become 132* impaired than their fear-born veneration evaporated, and their native antipathy reappeared in original virulence. The 1894 party was fortunate in successfully treating a sick wife of sub-chief Mashém, and subsequently spent days in the rancheria, distributing gifts to old and young in a manner unprecedented in their experience and making liberal exchanges for such small possessions as they wished to spare; yet, with a single possible exception, they succeeded in bringing no more human expression to any Seri face or eye than curiosity, avidity for food, studied indifference, and shrouded or snarling disgust. Among themselves they were fairly cheerful, and the families were unobtrusively affectionate; yet the cheerfulness was always chilled and often banished by the approach of an alien. The Sonorenses generally hold the Seri in indescribably deep dread as uncanny and savage monsters lying beyond the human pale; while the reciprocal feeling on the part of the Seri toward Caucasians, and still more toward Indian aliens, seems akin to that of the average man toward the rattlesnake, which he flees or slays without pause for thought—it seems nothing less than intuitive and involuntary loathing. The Seri antipathy is at once deepened into an obsession and crystallized into a cult; the highest virtue in their calendar is the shedding of alien blood; and their normal impulse on meeting an alien is to kill unless deterred by fear, to flee if the way is clear, and to fawn treacherously for better opportunity if neither natural course lies open.

The instinctive hostility, or racial dislike, between the Seri and the distinctly different Caucasian is less sharp and intense than the local animosity; yet even between the Seri and Caucasian, there's hardly a trace of sympathy. During his prime, the Tiburon islanders gathered around Don Pascual, first as a source of easy food and later as a powerful shaman whose anger brought destruction; however, their loyalty was never more than that of a beaten animal to a despised trainer, and his arrival never brought a smile to their impassive faces—in fact, his presence among their homes was met with the same calm yet ominous indifference shown to a solitary visitor to a zoo of caged predators. And as soon as his sight began to fail, their fear-born respect vanished, and their inherent hostility flared up again with full force. The 1894 group was lucky to successfully treat a sick wife of sub-chief Mashém, and they spent days in the village, giving gifts to both old and young in a way that was unprecedented in their experience and generously trading for whatever small items they were willing to part with; yet, with one possible exception, they managed to evoke no more human expression on any Seri face or in any eye than curiosity, a craving for food, reserved indifference, or veiled contempt. Among themselves, they were fairly cheerful, and the families showed subtle affection; yet this cheerfulness was always dampened and often wiped away by the presence of an outsider. The Sonorenses generally hold the Seri in indescribable fear, viewing them as strange and savage creatures beyond the boundaries of humanity; while the corresponding sentiment from the Seri towards Caucasians, and even more towards Indian outsiders, resembles how an average person feels about a rattlesnake, which they either avoid or kill without a second thought—it’s nothing less than instinctive and automatic revulsion. The Seri's hostility transforms into an obsession and solidifies into a tradition; their highest virtue is the shedding of alien blood; and their usual reaction upon encountering an outsider is to kill unless held back by fear, to flee if they can, or to sneak around for a better chance if neither of those options is available.

Concordantly with their primary characteristic, the Seri have avoided ethnic and demotic union beyond the narrow limits of their own kindred; and even of these they seem to have cast out parts, annihilating the Guayma and Upanguayma, displacing and nearly destroying the Tepoka, and outlawing individuals and (apparently) small groups. The earlier chronicles indicate that the Jesuit missionaries, and after them the Franciscan friars and the secular officials, sought to scatter the tribe by both cajolery and coercion, and endeavored to divide families by restraint of women and children and by banishment of wives; there are loose traditions, too, of the capture and enslavement of Indian and Caucasian women in Seriland; yet the great fact remains that not a single mixed-blood Seri is known to exist, and that no more than two of the blood (Kolusio and perhaps one other) now live voluntarily beyond the territorial and consanguineal confines of the tribe. The romantic story of a white slave and ancestress of a Seri clan, sometimes diffused through pernicious reportorial activity, is without shadow of proof or probability; the tradition of the captivity of a Papago belle was corroborated, albeit indefinitely, by Mashém’s naive admission that an alien women was once kept as a slave to a childless death due to her inaptitude for long wanderings; and there is not a single known fact indicating even so much as miscibility of the Seri blood with that of other varieties of the genus Homo. Naturally the presumption of miscibility holds in the absence of direct evidence; yet the presumption 133* is at least partially countervailed by conspicuous biotic characters, such as color, stature, etc., so distinctive as almost to seem specific: the Seri are distinctively dark-skinned, their extreme color-range (so far as known) being less than their nearest approach to any neighboring tribe; they are nearly as distinctive in stature, the difference between their tallest and shortest normal adults being apparently less than that between their shortest and the tallest of the neighboring Papago—though they are not so far from the more variable and often tall Yaqui; and they appear to be no less distinctive in such physiologic processes as those connected with their extraordinary food habits. Still more distinctive are the demotic characters connected with their habits of life and modes of thought; and when the sum of biotic and demotic characters is taken, the Seri are found to be set apart from all neighboring Sonoran tribes by differences much more striking than the individual range among themselves.237

In line with their main traits, the Seri have steered clear of blending with other ethnic groups beyond their close family ties; even within their own kin, they seem to have excluded parts of their community, wiping out the Guayma and Upanguayma tribes, displacing and nearly destroying the Tepoka, and banning certain individuals and (apparently) small groups. Earlier records indicate that Jesuit missionaries, followed by Franciscan friars and government officials, aimed to break up the tribe through both persuasion and pressure, trying to split families by restricting women and children and exiling wives. There's also vague evidence of Indian and Caucasian women being captured and enslaved in Seriland; yet the undeniable truth remains that no mixed-blood Seri are known to exist, and no more than two pure-blood individuals (Kolusio and possibly one other) now live of their own accord outside the tribe's territorial and blood-related boundaries. The romantic tale of a white slave being an ancestor of a Seri clan, sometimes spread through unreliable reporting, lacks any solid evidence or likelihood; the story of a captured Papago woman was vaguely supported by Mashém's candid admission that an outsider woman was once kept as a slave until her death due to her inability to endure long travels; and there's not a single confirmed fact suggesting even the slightest mixing of Seri blood with any other groups in the Homo genus. While it’s reasonable to assume mixing in the absence of direct evidence, this assumption is somewhat balanced by clear biological traits, such as skin color and height, that are distinct enough to almost appear as separate species: the Seri are notably dark-skinned, and their color variation (as far as known) is limited compared to any neighboring tribe; they are also fairly unique in height, with the difference between their tallest and shortest adults being noticeably less than the difference between the shortest and tallest of the neighboring Papago—though they’re not too far from the more variable and often taller Yaqui; and they seem equally distinctive in biological processes related to their unusual eating habits. Even more distinguishing are the cultural traits linked to their lifestyles and mindsets; when considering both biological and cultural characteristics, it’s clear that the Seri are set apart from all neighboring Sonoran tribes by differences that are far more significant than the variety found within their own group.237

It is especially noteworthy that the Seri have held aloof from that communality of the deserts which has brought so many tribes into union with each other and with their animal and vegetal neighbors through common strife against the common enemies of sun and sand—the communality expressed in the distribution of vital colonies over arid plains, in the toleration and domestication of animals, in the development of agriculture, and eventually in the shaping of a comprehensive solidarity, with the intelligence of the highest organism as the controlling factor.238 Dwelling on a singularly prolific shore, the Seri never learned the hard lesson of desert solidarity, but looked on the land merely as a place of lodgment or concealment, or as a source of luxuries such as cactus tunas, mesquite beans, and tasty game; they never formed the first idea of planting or cultivating, and their only notion of harvesting and storing against time of need was the intolerably filthy one of nature’s simplest teaching; they apparently never grasped the concept of cooperation with animals, and came to tolerate the parasitical coyote only in that its persistence was greater than their own, and in so far as it was stealthy enough to hide its travail and the suckling of its young against their ravening maws; and they apparently never rose to real recognition of their own kind in alien forms, but set their hands against agricultural and zoocultural humans as peculiarly potent and hence especially obnoxious animals. Naturally their racial intolerance was seed of battle and blood-feud; and they would doubtless have melted away under the general antagonism but for the natural barriers and unlimited food of their restricted domain.

It’s especially important to note that the Seri have kept to themselves, unlike many tribes in the deserts that have come together with each other and their animal and plant neighbors to fight against the common foes of sun and sand. This unity is shown in how they share vital resources across dry plains, in their acceptance and domestication of animals, in the growth of agriculture, and ultimately in developing a strong sense of community, led by the intelligence of the most advanced beings. 238 Living in a particularly fertile area, the Seri never learned the tough lesson of solidarity in the desert. Instead, they viewed the land merely as a place to stay or hide, or as a source of luxuries like cactus fruits, mesquite beans, and tasty game. They never had the idea of farming or cultivating, and their only understanding of gathering and saving for the future was rooted in the unpleasant lesson of nature’s most basic teaching. They seemingly never understood the idea of working together with animals and accepted the parasitic coyote only because its persistence was greater than their own, as long as it was stealthy enough to keep its actions hidden while caring for its young away from their hungry mouths. It seems they never truly recognized their own kind in other forms but regarded agricultural and animal-keeping humans as particularly threatening and therefore especially annoying creatures. Naturally, their racial intolerance led to conflict and blood feuds, and they likely would have faded away under widespread hostility if not for the natural barriers and abundant food within their limited territory.

At present, as for the later and best-known decades of their history, 134* the Seri are absolutely without extratribal affiliations, or even sympathy. When the chronicles of three centuries are scanned in the light of recent knowledge, it seems practically certain that they have been equally isolated since the dawn of Caucasian history in Mexico; and both recent data and the chronicles combine with the principles of demotic development to indicate that the Seri have stood alone from the beginning of their tribal career, and have never foregathered with the neighboring tribes of distinct blood, distinct arts and industries, distinct organization, distinct language, and distinct thought and feeling.

Currently, regarding the later and most well-known decades of their history, 134* the Seri have absolutely no connections or even sympathy with other tribes. When we look at three centuries of records through the lens of recent knowledge, it seems pretty clear that they have been just as isolated since the start of Caucasian history in Mexico. Both recent findings and the historical records, along with the principles of cultural development, suggest that the Seri have remained independent from the very beginning of their tribal existence and have never mingled with neighboring tribes that have different backgrounds, different skills and industries, different organization, different language, and different ways of thinking and feeling.

The present isolation of the Seri throws light on their early history and reveals the extent of the misapprehension of the pioneer missionaries, who half deluded themselves and wholly deluded distant readers into the notion that the Seri were really proselyted and actually collected in the mission-adjuncts of military posts established to protect settlers against forays of the tribe; for, as illumined by later and fuller knowledge of the tribal characteristics, the chronicles are seen to indicate merely that a few captives, malingerers, cripples, spies, and tribal outcasts were harbored at the missions until death and occasional escapes brought the colonies to a natural end, with no real assimilation of blood or culture on either side. So, too, the persistent tribal antipathy reveals the error of confounding the independent or even inimically related outbreaks of the Seri and of the Pima or Apache with the concerted action of confederated tribes. Doubtless the ever-watchful spies from Tiburon habitually gave notice of the disturbance due to outbreaks of contemporary tribes, just as they do today when the local soldiery are withdrawn for duty on the Yaqui frontier; naturally the civil and military authorities were thereby led to provide for protection against the Seri and Piato, against the Seri and Pima, or against the Seri and Apache at each period of disturbance, just as they provided against the Seri between periods; and it would appear that this association in thought and speech led to the unconscious magnification, in the minds of the chroniclers, of a supposed alliance.

The current isolation of the Seri sheds light on their early history and shows how misunderstood they were by the early missionaries, who partly fooled themselves and completely misled remote readers into believing that the Seri had truly converted and were gathered at mission sites connected to military posts set up to protect settlers from attacks by the tribe. However, as we learn more about the tribe's characteristics, it becomes clear that the records only indicate that a few captives, malingerers, disabled individuals, spies, and outcasts were taken in at the missions until death and occasional escapes brought these groups to a natural end, without any real blending of blood or culture on either side. Additionally, the ongoing tribal hostility points to the mistake of confusing the independent or even hostile actions of the Seri and the Pima or Apache with the coordinated efforts of allied tribes. It’s likely that the ever-observant scouts from Tiburon regularly reported disturbances caused by the outbreaks of nearby tribes, just as they do today when local soldiers are sent to duties on the Yaqui frontier. Naturally, this led civil and military authorities to ensure protection against the Seri and Piato, against the Seri and Pima, or against the Seri and Apache during times of unrest, just as they prepared for the Seri during quieter times. This connection in thinking and language seems to have led the chroniclers to unintentionally exaggerate the idea of an alliance.

In brief, the tribal relations of the Seri seem always to have been antipathetic, especially toward the aboriginal tribes of alien blood, in somewhat less measure toward Caucasians, and in least—yet still considerable—degree toward their own collinguals and (presumptive) consanguineals.

In short, the relationships among the Seri tribes have always been hostile, especially towards the native tribes of different backgrounds, somewhat less so towards Caucasians, and to a lesser—but still significant—extent towards their own linguistic and (presumed) blood relatives.

Population

So far as could be ascertained by inquiries of and through Mashém in 1894, the Seri tribe then comprised about 60 or 70 warriors, with between three and four times as many women and children—i. e., the population was apparently between 250 and 350. The group of about 60 (including 17 warriors) seen at Costa Rica was evidently growing rapidly, to judge from the proportion of youths of both sexes, infants in arms, and pregnant women; and there are other indications that 135* the tribe is prolific and well-fitted to survive unless cut off in consequence of the hereditary antipathy toward alien blood and culture.

As far as could be determined through inquiries of and with Mashém in 1894, the Seri tribe then consisted of about 60 to 70 warriors, with three to four times that number of women and children—meaning the total population was likely between 250 and 350. The group of around 60 people (including 17 warriors) observed in Costa Rica was clearly growing quickly, judging by the number of young people of both genders, infants, and pregnant women; and there are other signs that the tribe is fertile and well-equipped to thrive unless hindered by their longstanding hostility toward outsiders and foreign cultures. 135*

The population estimates of the past are naturally vague. In 1645 Ribas spoke of the tribe as “a great people”; and a century later Villa-Señor expressed himself in somewhat similar terms, and described their range in such manner as to indicate a population running into thousands. A few years after Villa-Señor (in 1750), Parilla claimed to have annihilated the entire tribe, with the exception of 28 captives; but according to Velasco’s estimates, the people numbered fully 2,000 some thirty years later, when the tribe was, however, once more nominally annihilated. In 1824 Troncoso estimated the Seri at over 1,000, and two years later Retio reckoned the population of Isla Tiburon alone at 1,000 or 1,500, while Hardy thought the entire tribe might number 3,000 or 4,000 at the utmost. About 1841 De Mofras put the aggregate population at 1,500; and at the time of the vigorous invasion by Andrade and Espence (1844), when a considerable number of the tribe were captured and a few slain, the total population was estimated at about 550—though it is probable that a good many tribesmen were left out of the reckoning. According to the chroniclers, a number of the Seri were slain after, as well as before, this invasion; and in 1846 Velasco estimated the tribe at less than 500, including 60 or 80 warriors. This estimate was in harmony with that made by Señor Encinas, who reckoned the tribe at 500 or 600 at the beginning of his war, in which half the tribe lost their lives. The figures of Velasco and Encinas correspond fairly with the reckoning by Mashém in 1894, due allowance being made for natural increase and for the losses through occasional skirmishes; and Mashém’s count is shown not to be excessive by the considerable number of jacales and rancherias and well-trodden pathways found throughout Seriland in 1895.

The population estimates from the past are naturally vague. In 1645, Ribas referred to the tribe as “a great people”; a century later, Villa-Señor expressed similar thoughts and described their territory in a way that suggested a population in the thousands. A few years after Villa-Señor (in 1750), Parilla claimed to have wiped out the entire tribe, except for 28 captives; however, according to Velasco’s estimates, the population was still around 2,000 about thirty years later, even though the tribe was once again nominally wiped out. In 1824, Troncoso estimated the Seri at over 1,000, and two years later, Retio estimated the population of Isla Tiburon alone at 1,000 to 1,500, while Hardy believed the total tribe might number 3,000 to 4,000 at most. Around 1841, De Mofras estimated the total population at 1,500; at the time of the strong invasion by Andrade and Espence (1844), when a significant number of tribe members were captured and a few were killed, the total population was estimated at about 550—although it’s likely that many tribesmen were not included in this count. According to the chroniclers, several Seri were killed both before and after this invasion; and in 1846, Velasco estimated the tribe at less than 500, including 60 to 80 warriors. This estimate aligned with Señor Encinas, who estimated the tribe at 500 or 600 at the start of his war, in which half the tribe lost their lives. The figures from Velasco and Encinas closely matched the count by Mashém in 1894, allowing for natural population growth and losses from occasional skirmishes; Mashém’s count was supported by the many jacales and rancherias and well-used paths found throughout Seriland in 1895.

On the whole it seems probable that the Seri population extended well into the thousands at the time of the Caucasian invasion; it seems probable, also, that the body was then too large for stability under its feeble institutional bonds, and hence threw off by fission the Guayma and Upanguayma fractions, and the Angeles, Populo, and Pueblo Seri fragments. Furthermore, it seems probable that the prolific group fairly held its own against these normal losses and repeated decimations by battle up to the Migueletes-Cimarrones war of 1780, despite the vaunted annihilation in 1750; but that thenceforward the death-rate due to increasingly frequent encounters with incoming settlers exceeded the birth-rate, gradually reducing the tribe from some 2,000 to the 250 or 300 surviving the Encinas conflict. Finally, it seems probable that the tribe has again held its own and perhaps increased slowly under the renewed isolation of the last decade or two. 136*

Overall, it seems likely that the Seri population was well into the thousands at the time of the Caucasian invasion. It also seems that their numbers were too large to remain stable under weak institutional ties, leading to the splitting off of the Guayma and Upanguayma groups, as well as the Angeles, Populo, and Pueblo Seri fragments. Furthermore, it seems that this prolific group managed to sustain its numbers against these usual losses and frequent battle casualties until the Migueletes-Cimarrones war of 1780, despite claims of annihilation in 1750. However, from that point on, the death rate from increasingly frequent conflicts with incoming settlers likely surpassed the birth rate, gradually decreasing the tribe from around 2,000 to about 250 or 300 survivors of the Encinas conflict. Finally, it seems probable that the tribe has again managed to stabilize and perhaps slowly increase under the renewed isolation of the last decade or two. 136*


SOMATIC CHARACTERS

Several physical characteristics of the Seri Indians are so conspicuous as to attract attention even at first sight. Perhaps the most striking is the noble stature and erect yet easy carriage; next in prominence is the dark skin-tint; a third is the breadth and depth of chest; another is the slenderness of limbs and disproportionately large size of extremities, especially the feet; still another is length and luxuriance of hair; and an impressive character is a peculiar movement in walking and running.

Several physical traits of the Seri Indians are so noticeable that they catch your eye right away. The most striking is their tall, upright, and relaxed posture; next is their dark skin; a third is the width and depth of their chests; another is the slimness of their limbs along with their unusually large extremities, especially their feet; yet another is the length and fullness of their hair; and a remarkable aspect is their unique way of walking and running.

The mean stature of the adult Seri may be estimated at about 6 feet (1.825 meters) for the males, and 5 feet 8 inches (1.727 meters) or 5 feet 9 inches (1.73 meters) for the females, these estimates resting on visual comparisons between Caucasians of known stature and about forty adult Seri of both sexes at Costa Rica in 1894. In several of the accompanying photomechanical reproductions (e. g. plates XIII, XVI, XIX, XXIII, and XXVIII) a unit figure, introduced partly for the encouragement of the individuals and groups but chiefly to afford a basis for approximate measurement, gives opportunity for test of the estimate, the figure measuring 5 feet 11 inches (1.80 meters) to 5 feet 11½ inches (1.812 meters), and weighing about 215 pounds in the costume shown, including hat and boots.239 These pictures and some thirty unpublished photographs, like the observations on the ground, indicate that practically all of the fully adult males and several of the females overtop the Caucasian unit. The only definite measurement known is that of the youthful and apparently immature female skeleton examined by Dr Hrdlička, of which the dimensions indicate a stature (estimated by the method of Manouvrier) of about 5 feet 3¾ inches (1.62 meters),240 or 3½ inches above the female normal of 5 feet ¼ inch (1.53 meters) given by Topinard; but this considerable stature is, probably on account of the youth of the subject, much below the mean indicated by the ocular and photographic comparisons (it corresponds fairly with that of the Seri maiden represented in plate XXV, whose age was estimated at 18 years). Naturally this striking stature, especially that of the warriors, has been much exaggerated by casual observers; the typical warrior, El Mudo, depicted in plate XIX, is indeed commonly reckoned as a 7-footer, though his actual stature (diminished somewhat in the pictures by fearsome shrinking from the ordeal of photographing) can hardly exceed 137* 6 feet 3 inches (1.90 meters); while for centuries the folk have been reputed a tribe of giants.

The average height of adult Seri men is about 6 feet (1.825 meters), while adult women average around 5 feet 8 inches (1.727 meters) to 5 feet 9 inches (1.73 meters). These estimates are based on visual comparisons between Caucasians of known height and approximately forty adult Seri of both genders in Costa Rica in 1894. In several of the accompanying photomechanical reproductions (e.g., plates XIII, XVI, XIX, XXIII, and XXVIII), a single model was used partially to motivate the individuals and groups but mainly to provide a basis for rough measurement. This figure stands between 5 feet 11 inches (1.80 meters) and 5 feet 11½ inches (1.812 meters) and weighs around 215 pounds in the outfit shown, including a hat and boots. These images, along with about thirty unpublished photographs, suggest that nearly all fully adult males and several females exceed the Caucasian standard. The only exact measurement available is from the youthful and seemingly underdeveloped female skeleton examined by Dr. Hrdlička, which indicates a height (estimated using Manouvrier's method) of about 5 feet 3¾ inches (1.62 meters), or 3½ inches above the female average of 5 feet ¼ inch (1.53 meters) reported by Topinard. However, this considerable height is likely much less than the average suggested by visual and photographic comparisons due to the subject's youth (it closely matches that of the Seri maiden shown in plate XXV, who was estimated to be 18 years old). Naturally, this notable height, especially among the warriors, has been greatly exaggerated by casual observers; the typical warrior, El Mudo, represented in plate XIX, is often thought to be 7 feet tall, although his actual height (slightly reduced in the photographs due to the intimidating nature of the photo session) is unlikely to exceed 6 feet 3 inches (1.90 meters). For centuries, the Seri have been known as a tribe of giants.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIII

GROUP OF SERI INDIANS ON THE FRONTIER

GROUP OF SERI INDIANS ON THE FRONTIER

The estimation of Seri stature is difficilitated by the impossibility of defining maturity; and the effort to determine whether particular individuals were adult brought out clear indications of slowness in reaching complete maturity, i. e., of the continuation of somatic growth throughout an exceptionally long term in proportion to other stages in the life of the individual. Thus, with scarcely an exception, the polyparous matrons were taller than the mean of 5 feet 9 inches, while the apparently adult maidens (with one exception) and the younger wives were below this mean; and in like manner the stature of the warriors varied approximately with appearance of age, all of the younger men falling below the mean, and all of the older (except Mashém) rising above it. The difficulty of estimation is further increased by the absence of age records and the impracticability of ascertaining and standardizing the habitually guarded expressions for relative age implied in the kinship terminology; so that the age determinations were roughly relative merely, and there was no means of fixing the absolute age of maturity, of puberty, of marriage, or of the assumption of manhood and womanhood howsoever defined.

The estimation of Seri height is complicated by the inability to define maturity. The effort to determine whether specific individuals were adults revealed clear signs of a slow progression to full maturity, meaning that physical growth continued for an unusually long time compared to other stages in an individual's life. Thus, almost without exception, the mothers had a height greater than the average of 5 feet 9 inches, while the seemingly adult young women (with one exception) and the younger wives were below this average. Similarly, the height of the warriors varied with their apparent age; all the younger men were shorter than the average, while all the older men (except Mashém) were taller than it. The challenge of assessment is further complicated by the lack of age records and the difficulty of determining and standardizing the typically vague terms used to express relative age in kinship terms. As a result, age determinations were only roughly relative, and there was no way to establish the absolute ages for maturity, puberty, marriage, or the transition into manhood and womanhood, however those were defined.

Under the conditions, the determination of stature-range in the Seri rancheria at Costa Rica in 1894 was not only difficult but uncertain; yet in general terms it may be said that the women having two or more children—about twenty in number—were notably uniform in stature, ranging from about 5 feet 7½ inches (in the case of an aged and shrunken elderwoman) to 5 feet 11 inches; that the younger women were more variable; and that the warriors (seventeen in number), of whom only a part were apparently heads of families, were more variable still, though the variation, apart from that apparently correlated with age, was less than is customarily found among the exceptionally uniform Papago, and decidedly less than that seen among the Yaqui or the local Mexicans.

Under the conditions, determining the height range in the Seri community at Costa Rica in 1894 was not only challenging but also uncertain. However, in general terms, it can be said that the women who had two or more children—about twenty in total—were notably uniform in height, ranging from around 5 feet 7½ inches (in the case of an elderly and shrunken woman) to 5 feet 11 inches. The younger women were more varied, and the warriors (seventeen in total), of whom only some were apparently heads of families, were even more varied. However, the variation, aside from that correlated with age, was less than what is typically found among the exceptionally uniform Papago and considerably less than what is observed among the Yaqui or the local Mexicans.

The Seri skin-tint is of the usual Amerindian bronze, save that it is exceptionally dark, with a decided tone of black. Essayed representations of the characteristic color appear in plates XVIII and XXIV; but the essays are little more satisfactory than the innumerable attempts at depicting the skin-color of the American aborigines that have gone before. Experienced observers of the native tribes may form an impression of the Seri color from the explanation that they are as much darker than the neighboring Papago as the Papago are darker than the average tribesmen about the Great lakes; the Papago themselves being as much darker than the southern plains or Pueblo folk as these are darker than those of the Lake region. The range in color seems to be slight; the variation among the 60 individuals of both sexes and all ages seen at Costa Rica was hardly perceptible, being less than that usually observed in a single family of any neighboring tribe; while the 138* color distinction alone sufficed to distinguish the Seri from any other people at a glance.

The Seri skin tone is the typical Amerindian bronze, but it's unusually dark with a noticeable black undertone. Attempts to represent this distinct color appear in plates XVIII and XXIV; however, these representations are not much more successful than previous efforts to depict the skin color of American Indigenous peoples. Observers familiar with the native tribes can understand the Seri's color by noting that they are much darker than the neighboring Papago, just as the Papago are darker than the average tribespeople around the Great Lakes. The Papago, in turn, are significantly darker than the southern plains or Pueblo people, who are themselves darker than those from the Lake region. The variation in skin color seems minimal; among the 60 individuals of all ages and both sexes seen in Costa Rica, the difference was hardly noticeable, even less than the variations typically seen within a single family of a nearby tribe. Yet, the color alone was enough to immediately distinguish the Seri from any other group.


Foremost among the general somatic distinctions between the Caucasian and the American native is the peripheral development of the former, displayed in better-muscled limbs, more expressive features, etc.—i. e., the Caucasian body expresses a readily perceptible but difficultly describable peripheralization, in contradistinction from the centralization displayed by the aboriginal body. Save in a single particular (the large feet and hands), the Seri exemplify this distinction in remarkable degree: their chests are strikingly broad, deep, and long, recalling the thoroughbred racer or greyhound; their waists are shortened by the chest development, yet are rather slender; their hips are broad and deep, with a clean-cut yet massive gluteal development; and, in comparison with the robust yet compact bodies, the tapering arms and legs seem incongruously slender.241 This physical characteristic, like that of color, is insusceptible of quantitative expression, at least without much more refined observations than have been made; but its value may be indicated roughly by the statement that the Seri differs from the average aboriginal American in degree of somatic concentration as much as the average aborigine differs from the average Caucasian—though it is noteworthy that the departure in this direction from the aboriginal mean is in some measure regional (i. e., the Seri differ less in this respect from the Papago and other swift-footed natives than from the average tribesmen of the continent). The Seri robustness of body and slenderness of limb are brought out by the absence (in appearance at least) of adipose; the skin is strikingly firm and hard and evidently thick, yet the play of muscle and tendon beneath indicate a dearth of connective tissue and convey that impression of physical vigor which their familiars so miss in the photographs; and in no case, save perhaps in the young babe, could the slightest trace of obesity be discerned. Thus the Seri, male and female, young and old, may be described as notably deep-chested and clean-limbed quick-steppers, or as human thoroughbreds.

The most significant physical differences between Caucasians and Native Americans are seen in the outer development of the former, which is evident in their stronger limbs, more expressive facial features, etc. In other words, the Caucasian body shows a clear but hard-to-describe outward presence, unlike the more centralized physique of indigenous people. With one exception (large hands and feet), the Seri people illustrate this distinction very well: their chests are notably broad, deep, and long, similar to those of a racehorse or greyhound; their waists are shorter due to chest development but are fairly slim; their hips are wide and deep, with a well-defined yet solid gluteal structure; and compared to their sturdy and compact bodies, the tapering arms and legs seem almost too slender. This physical trait, much like skin color, is difficult to quantify without much more detailed observations than have been previously made. However, it can be roughly stated that the Seri differ from the average Native American in physical build to the same extent that the average Native American differs from the average Caucasian—though it's important to note that this variation from the aboriginal average is somewhat regional (i.e., the Seri vary less in this regard from the Papago and other nimble natives than from the average tribes across the continent). The sturdiness of the Seri's body and the slimness of their limbs are emphasized by the apparent absence of body fat; their skin is noticeably firm, tough, and thick, yet the visible movement of muscle and tendon beneath suggests a lack of connective tissue, conveying an impression of physical strength that is often missed in photographs; and in no case, except perhaps in infants, could any hint of obesity be detected. Thus, both male and female Seri, young and old, can be described as distinctly deep-chested, well-proportioned, quick movers, or as human thoroughbreds.

The somatic symmetry of the average Seri, marred somewhat by the slenderness of limb, is still more marred by the large extremities. The hand is broad and long, the fingers are relatively long as those of the Caucasian, the nails are peculiarly thick and strong, and the skin is so thick and calloused as to give a clumsy look to the entire organ; the feet are still larger and thicker-skinned, appearing disproportionately long and broad for even the heroic stature of the tallest warriors. The integument covering the feet, ankles, and lower legs is incredibly firm and hard, more resembling that of horse or camel than the ordinary human type; 139* its astounding protective efficiency being attested by the readiness with which the Seri run through cactus thickets so thorny as to stop horses and dogs, or over conglomerated spall-beds so sharp that even the light coyote leaves their trail. In the absence of measurements it may merely be noted that the hands and feet of the Seri are materially larger, not only absolutely but relatively to their stature, than those of neighboring tribesmen or even of Mexican and American workmen. And, on the whole, it may be said that in their proportions, as in their stature and color, the Seri are strikingly uniform, their range being less than that commonly observed in contemporary tribes, and the differences between them and their neighbors much exceeding the range among themselves.

The body symmetry of the average Seri is somewhat spoiled by their slim limbs, and even more so by their large extremities. Their hands are wide and long, with fingers relatively as long as those of Caucasians; the nails are unusually thick and strong, and the skin is so thick and calloused that the entire hand appears clumsy. The feet are even larger and have thicker skin, looking disproportionately long and broad, even for the heroic stature of the tallest warriors. The skin covering the feet, ankles, and lower legs is incredibly tough and hard, resembling that of a horse or camel more than that of a typical human; its remarkable protective quality is shown by the ease with which the Seri run through cactus thickets so thorny that they can stop horses and dogs, or over sharp rubble beds that even a quick coyote avoids. Without measurements, it can be noted that the hands and feet of the Seri are considerably larger, both absolutely and relatively to their height, than those of neighboring tribes or even Mexican and American laborers. Overall, it can be said that in terms of proportions, height, and color, the Seri are strikingly uniform, with a range narrower than that typically seen in modern tribes, and the differences between them and their neighbors far exceed the variations among themselves.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIV

SERI FAMILY GROUP

SERI FAMILY NETWORK

Somatically distinctive as is the Seri at rest, he (or she) is much more so in motion—though the characteristics so readily caught by the eye are not easily analyzed and described. Perhaps the most conspicuous element in their walk is a peculiarly quick knee movement, bringing the foot upward and forward at the end of the stride; this merges into an equally quick thrust of the foot forward and downward, with toe well advanced, toward the beginning of the next stride; and these motions combine to produce a singular erectness and steadiness of carriage, the body moving in a nearly direct line with a minimum of lateral swaying or vertical oscillation, while the legs neither drag nor swing, but spurn the ground in successive strokes. Thus the walk seems notably easy and graceful, while the walker carries an air of alertness and reserve power, as if able to stop short at any point of a pace or to bolt forward or backward or sidewise with equal facility; he simulates the “collected” animal whose feet tap the ground lightly and swiftly while his body appears to yield freely to voluntary impulse. In this deer-like or antelope-like movement all the Seri are much alike, and all are decidedly removed from their neighbors, even the light-footed Papago. The component motions are most conspicuous in leisurely walking, though the resultant movement is more striking in rapid walk or the incredibly swift run of youths and adults. The general movement is akin to that shaped by the habit of carrying burdens balanced on the head, as the Seri women actually carry their water ollas for astonishing distances; but the carriage is shared—indeed, best displayed—by the warriors and growing boys, who are not known to carry water in this way.

Somatically distinctive as the Seri are when they're at rest, they stand out even more when they're in motion—though the traits that catch the eye are harder to analyze and describe. One of the most noticeable aspects of their walk is a unique, quick movement of the knees, lifting the foot upward and forward at the end of each stride; this flows into a quick thrust of the foot forward and downward, with the toes pointing ahead, as they begin the next stride. These actions come together to create a remarkable uprightness and steadiness in their movement, with the body traveling in almost a straight line with minimal side-to-side swaying or up-and-down bouncing, while the legs neither drag nor swing but push off the ground in successive strides. As a result, the walk looks notably easy and graceful, while the walker exudes an air of alertness and latent strength, as if ready to stop suddenly at any point or to spring forward, backward, or sideways with equal ease; they resemble a “collected” animal whose feet touch the ground lightly and quickly while its body seems to respond freely to impulse. In this deer-like or antelope-like gait, all the Seri are quite similar, and they stand out distinctly from their neighbors, even the light-footed Papago. The individual movements are most apparent during a leisurely walk, but the overall effect is even more striking during a fast walk or the incredibly swift run of young people and adults. Their general movement resembles that shaped by the habit of balancing burdens on their heads, as Seri women do when carrying water jars over impressive distances; however, this graceful carriage is also exhibited—indeed, best shown—by the warriors and growing boys, who typically don’t carry water in this manner.

Among the conspicuous but nondistinctive somatic characters of the Seri is luxuriant straight hair, habitually worn long and loose. Commonly the hair is jet-black for most of the length, growing tawny toward the tips; sometimes it is black throughout, while again the tawny tinge, or perhaps a bleached appearance, extends well toward the scalp. Age-grayness seems not to be characteristic; the most aged matrons known have no more than a few inconspicuous and scattered gray hairs, though the pelage of some is slightly bleached or faded. None of the warriors at Costa Rica showed the slightest grayness except 140* Mashém (aged about 50 years), who had a few gray strands about the temples; but it maybe significant that the hair of the tribal outlaw Kolusio, who has lived with white men for full three score years, is iron-gray. Kolusio’s pelage is trimmed in Caucasian fashion; that of Mashém is cut off mid-length in a manner exciting comment, if not derision, on the part of his fellows and others, and resulting in his (Spanish) sobriquet, Pelado (literally, Peeled, or idiomatically, Shorn); but with few exceptions the hair is kept long as it can be made to grow, and receives careful attention, to this end. Naturally the length is somewhat variable; in many cases it depends to or slightly below the waist, while in other cases it merely sweeps the shoulders; and in general it appears to increase in both length and luxuriance not only throughout adolescence, but up to late maturity, for the best pelages are presented by moderately aged persons, while none of the youths are so luxuriantly tressed as their elders. Not the slightest trace of baldness appears. The infantile pelage is short, brownish in color, soft or even silky, and inclined to curl toward the tips. It is not until the age of several months that the hair begins to acquire the adult character, and at least some children retain traces of the infantile pilary character up to 5 or even 10 years; and none of the children display such jet-black shock-heads as are frequently found among other tribes, whose adult pelage may nevertheless be much less luxuriant than that of the Seri. On the whole, it may be said that the Seri hair is luxuriant and vigorous beyond the aboriginal average, and that it, like various other somatic features, indicates a relatively late maturation in the life-history of the individual.

Among the noticeable but unremarkable physical traits of the Seri people is their thick, straight hair, typically worn long and loose. Generally, the hair is jet black for most of its length, fading to a tawny color toward the tips; sometimes it is completely black, while in other cases, the tawny shade, or possibly a bleached look, extends close to the scalp. There doesn't seem to be a characteristic grayness associated with aging; the oldest women known have only a few barely noticeable gray hairs, although some have slightly bleached or faded hair. None of the warriors in Costa Rica showed any signs of gray hair except for Mashém (around 50 years old), who had a few gray strands near his temples; however, it’s worth noting that the hair of the tribal outlaw Kolusio, who has lived with white men for a full sixty years, is iron-gray. Kolusio’s hair is cut in a Western style; Mashém's is cropped to mid-length in a way that invites comments, if not ridicule, from his peers and others, leading to his (Spanish) nickname, Pelado (literally, Peeled, or idiomatically, Shorn); but with few exceptions, the hair is kept as long as possible and receives careful grooming for that purpose. Naturally, the length varies; in many cases, it reaches to or slightly below the waist, while in others, it barely touches the shoulders. Overall, it seems to grow both in length and thickness not only during adolescence but well into adulthood, as the most impressive hairstyles are often seen in moderately older individuals, while younger people do not have hair as lush as their elders. There are no signs of baldness at all. Infants have short, brownish hair that is soft or even silky and tends to curl at the tips. It isn't until several months of age that the hair begins to take on adult characteristics, with some children keeping aspects of their baby hair up to five or even ten years old; none of the children have the jet-black hair commonly seen in other tribes, whose adult hair may, however, be less abundant than that of the Seri. Overall, it can be said that the hair of the Seri is thick and healthy, exceeding the aboriginal average, and like various other physical traits, indicates a relatively late maturation in an individual's life history.

Both sexes are beardless. The female faces seen were entirely free of strong pilary growth; one or two of the warrior faces showed scattering hairs, and Mashém sported a feeble and downy but jet-black mustache with an exceptional number of scattered hairs about the chin; while Kolusio shaved regularly, and might, apparently, have grown moderately stiff but straggling mustaches and beard. Axillary hair seems to be wanting; pubic hair is said to be scanty; otherwise the bodies are practically hairless (more nearly so than those of average Caucasians).

Both men and women are clean-shaven. The women’s faces were completely free of noticeable facial hair; one or two of the men had sparse hair, and Mashém had a weak, fluffy, jet-black mustache with a notable number of scattered hairs around his chin; Kolusio, on the other hand, regularly shaved and could have grown moderately thick but unruly mustaches and a beard. Underarm hair seems to be absent; pubic hair is reported to be sparse; otherwise, the bodies are almost completely hairless (more so than the average Caucasian).

The teeth are solid, close-set, and even, and impress the observer as large; they close with the upper incisors projecting slightly beyond the lower denture in the usual manner.

The teeth are strong, tightly spaced, and uniform, giving a perception of being large; they fit together with the upper incisors slightly sticking out beyond the lower teeth, as is typical.


The skeletal characteristics of the Seri are known only from a single specimen obtained in the course of the 1895 expedition in such manner as to establish the identification beyond shadow of question. This skeleton was submitted to Dr Aleš Hrdlička for measurement and discussion.242

The skeletal features of the Seri are known from just one specimen collected during the 1895 expedition, allowing for definitive identification. This skeleton was sent to Dr. Aleš Hrdlička for analysis and discussion.242

In making his examination, Dr Hrdlička compared the unquestionably 141* authentic cranium of the entire skeleton with two skulls preserved in the American Museum of Natural History, viz., No. 99/84, designated as a skull of a Tiburon mound-builder, and No. 99/85, labeled as having 142* been found in a shell mound at Tiburon, California; but, in view of the possible error in identification in these cases, the comparisons are omitted. Otherwise, Dr Hrdlička’s determinations are as recorded in the following report (and his drawings of the anterior and left lateral aspects of the cranium are reproduced in figure 6):

In his examination, Dr. Hrdlička compared the clearly authentic skull of the entire skeleton with two skulls stored in the American Museum of Natural History, specifically No. 99/84, which is identified as a skull of a Tiburon mound-builder, and No. 99/85, which is marked as having been found in a shell mound at Tiburon, California. However, due to the potential for misidentification in these cases, those comparisons are excluded. Otherwise, Dr. Hrdlička’s findings are detailed in the following report (and his drawings of the front and left side of the skull are shown in figure 6):

Fig. 6—Anterior and left lateral aspects of Seri cranium.

Fig. 6—Front and left side views of the Seri skull.

REPORT ON AN EXAMINATION OF A SKELETON FROM SERILAND
[By Dr Aleš Hrdlička, Associate in Anthropology, Pathological Institute, New York]

The Skeleton

All the bones of the skeleton are present, except the sternum, the coccyx, a few of the teeth, and a few of the small bones of the extremities.

All the bones of the skeleton are there, except for the sternum, the coccyx, some of the teeth, and a few of the small bones in the limbs.

It is a skeleton of a young adult, between 20 and 24 years of age, female. The age of the subject is indicated mainly by the unattached epiphyses of the long and some of the short bones, those epiphyses, namely, which are the last to coossify. The femininity of the subject is indicated by the generally slightly marked ridges, etc., of muscular attachment, and by the decidedly feminine character of the pelvis (light, well-spread ilia, broad subpubic arch) and of the skull (lack of supraorbital ridges, thin dental arches, small mastoids, etc.).

It is a skeleton of a young adult female, between 20 and 24 years old. The age of the individual is mainly indicated by the unattached ends of the long bones and some of the short bones, which are the last to fuse. The femininity of the individual is shown by the generally subtle ridges of muscle attachment, and by the clearly feminine shape of the pelvis (light, wide iliac bones, broad subpubic arch) and the skull (absence of brow ridges, thin dental arches, small mastoid processes, etc.).

There are no wounds or pathological conditions noticeable on the skeleton. Several peculiarities and anomalies are observable. They will be described with the parts they concern.

There are no visible wounds or medical issues on the skeleton. Several unique features and anomalies can be seen. They will be described along with the relevant parts.

The measurements to follow are expressed in centimeters. The French anthropometric methods and nomenclature have been adopted.

The measurements below are given in centimeters. The French anthropometric methods and terminology have been adopted.

The Skull

The skull is of fair size, and is symmetrical throughout, with the exception of a slight irregularity in the occipital region. All the sutures, with the exception of the basilar, open; nerve foramina all large; serrations rather simple; no intercalate bones of any kind.

The skull is of a decent size and is symmetrical all over, except for a slight irregularity in the back. All the sutures, except for the basilar one, are open; all the nerve openings are large; the serrations are quite simple; and there are no extra bones of any kind.

Norma frontalis—Visage symmetrical. Forehead well arched, medium height. 143* Supraorbital ridges almost absent; glabella convex. Nasion depression medium. Orbits obliquely quadrilateral; their axes (internal inferior corner—internal superior corner) meet at ophryon. Spheno-maxillary fissure, lachrymal canal, and nerve foramina all above average in size. Nasal bones well bridged, very slightly concave; nasal aperture regular; no “gouttières”; turbinated bones well formed; septum wanting; spine 0.65 long, bifid at the end. Zygomæ of medium size and strength. Superior maxilla of medium size, well formed. Dental arches regular; no prognathism. Bone of lower jaw moderately strong; does not protrude anteriorly; conformation normal.

Norma frontalis—Symmetrical face. Forehead well-arched, medium height. 143* Supraorbital ridges nearly absent; glabella is convex. Nasion depression is medium. Orbits are slanting and quadrilateral; their axes (internal lower corner—internal upper corner) meet at the ophryon. Spheno-maxillary fissure, lacrimal canal, and nerve openings are all larger than average. Nasal bones are well-connected, slightly concave; nasal opening is regular; no “gouttières”; turbinated bones are well formed; septum is missing; spine is 0.65 long, bifid at the end. Zygomatic bones are of medium size and strength. Upper jaw is of medium size, well formed. Dental arches are regular; no prognathism. Bone of the lower jaw is moderately strong; does not stick out in front; shape is normal.

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SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XV

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SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XV

SERI MOTHER AND CHILD

SERIOUS MOTHER AND CHILD

Norma basalis—Contour almost round. Whole base symmetrical, except as noted below; the middle structures appear shortened antero-posteriorly, slightly more on the left than on the right; basilo-vomeric angle rather acute (100°); foramina of the base all spacious; the petrobasilar suture is large (average diameter, 5 mm.) and is throughout pervious. Superior dental arch regular and of medium thickness. Dentition incomplete—right upper wisdom tooth not fully erupted; left lower wisdom tooth wanting entirely. Denture fine and regular; no teeth decayed. Both upper first incisors absent.243 Teeth set regularly in socket and of medium size. Palatine arch symmetrical. Shape of palate normal. Posterior nasal foramina oblong. Styloids small, shell-like, flattened.

Norma basalis—The outline is almost round. The entire base is symmetrical, except for the points noted below; the middle structures look a bit shorter from front to back, slightly more on the left side than the right; the basilo-vomeric angle is fairly sharp (100°); all the openings at the base are spacious; the petrobasilar suture is large (average diameter, 5 mm) and is fully open. The upper dental arch is regular and of medium thickness. The teeth are not complete— the right upper wisdom tooth hasn't fully come in; the left lower wisdom tooth is entirely missing. The dentition is fine and regular; there are no decayed teeth. Both upper first incisors are absent. 243 The teeth are set evenly in their sockets and are of medium size. The palatine arch is symmetrical. The shape of the palate is normal. The posterior nasal foramina are elongated. The styloids are small, shell-shaped, and flattened.

Norma occipitalis—The posterior part of the skull is somewhat flattened. The sides of the surface present a pentagonal outline with rounded corners, the apex corresponding to the sagittal suture, or obelion. There is a slight asymmetry, the right side being somewhat flattened. Exterior occipital protuberance not well marked.

Norma occipitalis—The back part of the skull is slightly flattened. The sides have a pentagonal shape with rounded corners, with the top point at the sagittal suture, or obelion. There's a slight asymmetry, with the right side being a bit flatter. The external occipital protuberance is not very pronounced.

Norma verticalis—Outline an irregular ovoid, wider posteriorly and more prominent on the left and posteriorly. Slight symmetrical depression of the parietals, beginning about 1 cm. and ending 5 or 6 cm. behind the coronal suture and extending laterally from the sagittal suture to the upper temporal ridge.

Norma verticalis—Describe an irregular oval shape, broader at the back and more pronounced on the left and rear. There's a slight symmetrical dip in the parietal bones, starting about 1 cm and ending 5 or 6 cm behind the coronal suture, extending sideways from the sagittal suture to the upper temporal ridge.

Norma lateralis—Outline ovoid, larger posteriorly. Pterions en H, of medium breadth. Temporal ridges not very distinct. Parietal bosses prominent.

Norma lateralis—The outline is oval, larger in the back. The pterions form an H shape and are of medium width. The temporal ridges aren’t very noticeable. The parietal bosses are prominent.

cc.
Skull capacity, Broca’s method 1,545
Skull capacity, Flower’s method 1,490
Antero-posterior diameter, maximum 16.3
Lateral diameter, maximum 14.4
Cephalic index, 88.3=Brachycephalic.244
Chin-bregma 21.2
Chin-ophryon 13.2
Alveolar point-ophryon 8.6
Bizygomatic breadth, maximum 13.0
Facial index 98.5
Superior facial index (Broca’s), 66.1=Mesoseme.
Height of nose aperture 5.4
Breadth of nose aperture 2.65
Nasal index, 49.0=Mesorhine.
Mean height of orbits 3.80
Mean breadth of orbits 3.95144*
Orbital index, 96.2=Megaseme. cc.
Mean depth of orbits 4.6
Dacryon to dacryon 2.3
Frontal diameter, minimum 9.2
Frontal diameter, maximum (interstephanic) 11.4
Biauricular diameter245 12.3
Diameter through parietal bosses 14.3
Bimastoid diameter 10.55
Distance from superior alveolar arch to inferior occipital ridge 14.35
Distance between supramastoid eminences 13.9
Length of basilar process (notch of vomer to basion) 2.95
Basion-bregma height 13.45
Basion-obelion height ? (obelion indistinct.)
Basion-ophryon 14.0
Basion-inion 8.1
Circumference, maximum 49.4
Nasion-ophryon arc 1.8
Nasion-bregma arc 12.3
Nasion-inion arc 30.0
Nasion-opisthion arc 35.5
Pterion-bregma arc 11.2
Arc external meatuses, over forehead 29.2
Arc external meatuses, over frontal bosses 30.4
Arc external meatuses, over bregma 34.0
Arc external meatuses, maximum 35.7
Arc external meatuses, over inion 23.6
Temporal ridges to sagittal suture (stephanions-bregma), (arc) mean 7.5
Lateral diameter of foramen magnum, maximum 2.75
Antero-posterior diameter of foramen magnum, maximum 3.60
Index of foramen magnum 76.4
Length of hard palate, maximum 4.6
Height of hard palate at first molars 1.55
Breadth of hard palate at first bicuspids 2.9
Breadth of hard palate at first molars 3.55
Breadth of hard palate at third molars 4.1
Height of posterior nares 3.1
Breadth of posterior nares 2.55
Index of posterior nares 82.2
Angle of mandibles 114°
Length of mandibular rami 9.55
Bigoniac diameter of mandibles 9.85

The Vertebral Column

Cervical vertebræ—Number complete; characters normal. All cervical spinous processes bifid; vertebra prominens well defined. All epiphyses absent.

Cervical vertebrae—Complete number; normal characteristics. All cervical spinous processes are bifid; the vertebra prominens is well-defined. All epiphyses are absent.

cc.
Transverse diameter of third cervical vertebra (between posterior tubercles of the pedicles), maximum 5.05
Antero-posterior diameter of third cervical vertebra (body-spinous process), maximum 4.20
Greatest lateral diameter of foramen, same vertebra 2.15 145*
Greatest antero-posterior diameter of foramen, same vertebra 1.45
Height of body in center, same vertebra .90

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SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XVI

GROUP OF SERI BOYS

SERIO BOYS GROUP

Dorsal vertebræ—Number complete; characters absolutely normal. Resemblance to lumbar processes begins with tenth dorsal vertebra; a number of the epiphyses of the various processes either imperfectly united or detached; body epiphyses absent.

Dorsal vertebrae—Number complete; characteristics completely normal. The resemblance to lumbar processes starts with the tenth dorsal vertebra; several of the epiphyses of the different processes are either poorly fused or separate; body epiphyses are missing.

cc.
Antero-posterior diameter of body of sixth dorsal vertebra, maximum 2.55
Lateral diameter of body of sixth dorsal vertebra, maximum 2.90
Height of body in center 1.67
Separation of transverse processes 5.63
Edge of upper articular processes-tip of spinous processes 5.50
Breadth of foramen, maximum 1.60
Length of foramen, maximum 1.50

Lumbar vertebræ—Number complete; characters absolutely normal. Only disk epiphyses detached.

Lumbar vertebrae—Number complete; features completely normal. Only disk epiphyses detached.

cc.
Antero-posterior diameter of body, maximum 3.12
Antero-posterior diameter of whole vertebræ, maximum 7.10
Lateral diameter of body, maximum 4.55
Lateral diameter of transverse processes, maximum 7.10
Height of articular processes, maximum 4.33
Height of body in center, maximum 2.20
Antero-posterior diameter of canal, maximum 1.50
Lateral diameter of canal, maximum 2.10

The Sacrum

Aspect normal with the following exception: There are distinct intervertebral disks between the different segments (5 segments); there are deep lateral incisures in places where the lateral processes unite, and the fourth and fifth segments are entirely separated (in one piece) from the upper three (four small spots of coossification along the posterior border of the articulation are visible). The articular processes of the first and second sacral segments are similar in form to the lumbar, and form open articulations. There is a large foramen situated below the spinous processes of the first and third segment, and a smaller beneath the second. Coccyx absent. Curvature medium.

Aspect normal with the following exception: There are distinct intervertebral disks between the different segments (5 segments); there are deep lateral notches where the lateral processes join, and the fourth and fifth segments are completely separated (in one piece) from the upper three (four small spots of coossification along the back border of the joint are visible). The articular processes of the first and second sacral segments are similar in shape to the lumbar ones and form open joints. There is a large opening located below the spinous processes of the first and third segments, and a smaller one beneath the second. Coccyx absent. Curvature medium.

cc.
Breadth of the sacrum, maximum 10.5
Height of the sacrum, maximum 11.2
Index of the sacrum 93.7

The Thoracic Cage

Aspect of ribs normal. Strength medium. Sternum absent.

Aspect of ribs is normal. Strength is medium. Sternum is missing.

Length second right rib (arc) 21.8
Long diameter second right rib 12.5
Maximum height of the curve 7.2
Length ninth right rib (arc) 28.8
Long diameter ninth right rib 18.7
Maximum height of curve 8.45

146*

146*

Bones of the Upper Limbs

Clavicles—Form normal, slender; epiphyses united. Length, maximum, 13.5. Muscular attachments of slight prominence.

Clavicles—Form is normal and slender; ends are joined. Maximum length is 13.5. Muscle attachments are slightly prominent.

Scapulæ—Form normal, spine directed somewhat more upward than is usual; whole bone light and slender; acromial epiphyses absent.

Scapulae—Normal shape, spine angled slightly more upward than usual; the entire bone is light and thin; acromial epiphyses are missing.

Height (middle of glenoid fossa-tip of inferior angle) 12.0
Breadth (middle of glenoid point, maximum) 8.7

Humeri—Form normal; bone slender; head-epiphyses not united; left head perforated by large oval foramen from coronoid to olecranon fossa (8 mm. by 4½ mm.)

Humeri—Normal shape; slender bone; head-epiphyses not fused; the left head has a large oval hole from the coronoid to the olecranon fossa (8 mm by 4.5 mm)

Length of left humerus (with epiphysis) 31.3
Length of right humerus (with epiphysis) 31.0

Ulnæ and radii—Form normal; bones slender; lower epiphyses ununited.

Ulnae and radii—Normal shape; bones are slender; lower ends not fused.

Length of left radius (head and end of styloid) 24.1
Length of left ulna (olecranon-styloid) 25.8

Metacarpus, carpus, and phalanges—Nothing special.

Metacarpus, carpus, and phalanges—Nothing unique.

Bones of the Pelvis and Lower Limbs

All the bones of the pelvis and lower limbs of normal shape and medium size. Pelvis apparently that of a female (subpubic angle 100°). Bones well united, all traces of the union in acetabulum effaced. Epiphyses ununited except on the ischiatic protuberances, where bony union just begins. Above the fossa acetabuli (8 mm. postero-superiorly from the uppermost edge of the fossa) there is in both acetabula an irregularly triangular depression of about 2 water-drops capacity (accessory tendon?).

All the bones of the pelvis and lower limbs are normal in shape and medium in size. The pelvis appears to be female (subpubic angle 100°). The bones are well connected, and all signs of unity in the acetabulum are faded. The epiphyses are not united except at the ischiatic protuberances, where bony union is just starting. Above the acetabular fossa (8 mm postero-superiorly from the top edge of the fossa), there is an irregularly triangular depression in both acetabula that can hold about 2 drops of water (accessory tendon?).

Anterior to posterior-superior spine 13.7
Point of pubis to posterior-superior spine 15.8
Point of pubis to anterior-superior spine 12.7
Point of pubis to point of ischium 10.8
Biiliac diameter of whole bony pelvis (between internal iliac borders), maximum 21.0
Height of coxal bones (tuberosity of ischium to iliac border in this case without its epiphyses), maximum 19.4
Antero-posterior diameter of superior strait 11.8
Lateral diameter of superior strait 11.4
Oblique diameter of superior strait 11.3

Height of subject (determined after Manouvrier’s method) about 1.620 m. (above the general average).

Height of the subject (measured using Manouvrier’s method) is about 1.620 m. (above the general average).

Femurs—Lower epiphyses ununited. Muscular attachments, including linea aspera, but little prominent.

Femurs—Lower ends not fused. Muscle attachments, including the linea aspera, are present but not very noticeable.

Length of femurs (both condyles applied to base) 43.6
Inclination of neck to shaft 130°

Tibiæ—Both platycnemic. All the epiphyses ununited, especially the upper.

Tibiæ—Both have a flat shape. All the ends haven't fused together, especially the upper ones.

Antero-posterior diameter at center, maximum 2.5
Lateral diameter at center, maximum 1.62
Length (articular surface-tip of styloid) 35.6
Femoro-tibial index {length of tibia × 100} =82.0
{length of femora}

This index is 81 in the European, 83 in the negro, and 86 in the Bushman.246

This index is 81 in the European, 83 in the Black, and 86 in the Bushman.246

Fibulæ—Length, 35.2. Epiphyses not yet united, particularly the upper.

Fibulæ—Length, 35.2. The ends are not fully fused yet, especially the upper one.

Tarsal, metatarsal, and phalangial bones—Nothing special. 147*

Tarsal, metatarsal, and phalangeal bones—Nothing special. 147*

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SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XVII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XVII

MASHEM, SERI INTERPRETER

Mashem, series interpreter

Resumé of the Peculiarities of the Skeleton

The nerve and blood-vessel foramina are generally large. This character and the platycnemic tibiæ indicate an ample musculature of the subject.

The nerve and blood vessel openings are usually large. This feature and the flat tibiae suggest that the subject had well-developed muscles.

The height is above the general average for a woman, which, according to Topinard, is 1.53.

The height is above the typical average for a woman, which, according to Topinard, is 1.53.

The petro-basilar fissures are large and visibly pervious. This condition is found occasionally; significance doubtful; it is more frequent in young subjects.

The petro-basilar fissures are large and clearly open. This condition is seen occasionally; its importance is questionable; it occurs more often in younger individuals.

Platycnemic tibiæ—This is considered a simian character.247 It was found first by Broca in 1868248 on bones from Eyzies; it is associated with relative strength of the muscles of the leg; is very frequent among the characters found on bones from the epoch of polished stone in Europe.249 J. Wyman found this character more accentuated than at Cro-Magnon or at Gibraltar on a third of the tibias from the mounds of the United States.249

Platycnemic tibiae—This is seen as a simian trait.247 It was first discovered by Broca in 1868248 from bones found at Eyzies; it is linked to the relative strength of the leg muscles and is very common among the traits identified on bones from the polished stone age in Europe.249 J. Wyman observed this trait to be more pronounced than in Cro-Magnon or Gibraltar on a third of the tibias from the mounds in the United States.249

Perforated humerus—Noticed first by Desmoulins, 1826, on the humeri of Guanches and Hottentots;250 occurs with greatest frequency in the following peoples:251

Perforated humerus—First noted by Desmoulins in 1826 on the humeri of Guanches and Hottentots;250 occurs most frequently among the following groups:251

Per cent.
156 neolithic humeri from around Paris 21.8
97 humeri of African negroes 21.7
122 humeri of Guanches 25.6
80 humeri from the mounds of United States (J. Wyman) 31.2
32 humeri of Polynesians 34.3
30 humeri of altaic and American races 36.2

Summarily, Dr Hrdlička’s special determinations conform with the external observations on the Seri body; they indicate an exceptionally large stature, together with a notably well-developed and well-proportioned osseous framework, of the native American type, yet significantly approaching the Caucasian in several respects. It is especially noteworthy that the cranium is well formed and capacious, the precise measurements corroborating the external observation that the Seri head is of good absolute size, though relatively smaller (in comparison with height and weight) than that of some neighboring tribes of less stature—e. g., the Papago. It may be noted, too, that the imperfect ankylosis of the epiphyses, and various other skeletal features, are in accord with the inferences from the living body as to the slowness of attaining maturity. It may be noted further that the extraordinary development of the muscular attachments, especially in the masculine cranium, is quite in harmony with the habits of the tribe.

In summary, Dr. Hrdlička's specific findings align with the external observations of the Seri body; they show an unusually large stature, along with a notably well-developed and well-proportioned skeletal structure of Native American descent, yet significantly resembling Caucasian traits in several ways. It's particularly important to point out that the skull is well-formed and spacious, and the exact measurements support the external observation that the Seri head is of good absolute size, although it is relatively smaller (when compared to height and weight) than that of some neighboring tribes with shorter stature, like the Papago. Additionally, the incomplete fusion of the epiphyses and various other skeletal characteristics align with the observations about the living body regarding the slow process of reaching maturity. Furthermore, the remarkable development of the muscular attachments, especially in the male skull, matches the lifestyle of the tribe.


The remaining somatic characteristics of the Seri are for the greater part of such sort as to be described by generalities and negatives. In general they correspond with those of typical American tribesmen and other peoples; and they do not exhibit striking peculiarities in proportion or structure. In the opposability of the thumb, the nonopposability of the hallux, and the independence of fingers and toes, the Seri hands and feet are developed quite up to, if not somewhat beyond, the 148* Amerindian252 average; the feet are set straight in walking, as befits the pedestrian habit; the arms are not elongated, and the thighs seem no longer in proportion to other elements of the stature than are those of the highest human types. In like manner the bodies are notably free from artificial deformation; the skulls are not flattened or otherwise distorted; there is no scarification, or even tattooing; neither ears nor lips are pierced for pendants or labrets; the teeth are not filed or drilled, though in some cases at least the first incisors of females are extracted; and while there are trustworthy records of the piercing of the nasal septum for the insertion of pendants, no examples were found at Costa Rica in 1894. The food habits and other customs of the tribe indicate, or at least suggest, more or less specialized and perhaps distinctive internal characters; but, without actual examination of the organs, these inferred characters demand little more than passing notice.

The remaining physical traits of the Seri can mostly be summed up with general descriptions and what they lack. Overall, they resemble typical Native American tribes and other groups, showing no striking differences in proportions or structure. In terms of thumb opposability, the non-opposability of the big toe, and the independence of fingers and toes, the Seri's hands and feet are developed at or even slightly above the average for American Indians; their feet are aligned straight when walking, which suits their lifestyle; their arms are not particularly long, and their thighs are proportionate to the rest of their body just like those of other tall human types. Similarly, their bodies are notably free from artificial changes; their skulls aren’t flattened or distorted in any way; there are no scars or even tattoos; neither their ears nor lips have been pierced for jewelry; their teeth aren’t filed or drilled, although in some cases, at least, the first incisors of females are removed. There are reliable accounts of nasal septum piercing for jewelry, but no examples were found in Costa Rica in 1894. The tribe’s dietary habits and other customs suggest more specialized and possibly unique internal traits; however, without directly examining the organs, these inferred traits warrant little more than brief mention.


On reviewing the more prominent somatic characters of the Seri, it is found that the greater number are either functional or presumptively correlated with function, and that only a few—chiefly stature and color—are simply structural; accordingly a comparison of the peculiar somatic features and the peculiar individual habits of the tribe would seem to be instructive in more than ordinary degree.

On looking over the main physical traits of the Seri, it turns out that most are either functional or likely linked to function, and only a few—mainly height and color—are just structural. Therefore, comparing the unique physical characteristics and the distinct habits of the tribe could be especially insightful.

The most striking trait of the Seri is the pedestrian habit. The warriors and women and children alike are habitual rovers; their jacales and even their largest rancherias are only temporary domiciles, evidently vacant oftener than occupied; the principal rancherias are separated by a hard day’s journey or more; and none of the known rancherias or jacales of more persistent use are nearer than 4 to 10 miles from the fresh water by which their occupants are supplied. Probably the most persistently occupied rancherias of the last half century have been those located from time to time near Costa Rica, yet even these were seldom occupied by the same group for more than a fortnight or possibly a month, and were often vacated within a day or two after erection. Still more temporary camps intervene between jacales, and their sites may be seen in numbers in the neighborhood of the better-beaten paths, or along the shores, or even over the trackless spall-strewn plains; they may be merely trampled spots, sparsely strewn with oyster shells and large bones gnawed at the ends, usually in the lea of a shrub or rock; in places of small shrubbery or exceptionally abundant grass there may be two or three or perhaps half a dozen “forms” (suggesting the temporary resting places of rabbits), in which robust bodies nestled and shrugged themselves into the warm earth and under the meager vegetation. Rarely there are ashes and cinders hard by, to mark the site of a tiny fire, and more frequently battered and stained or greasy bowlders record their own use as meat-blocks 149* or metates, though it is manifest that most of the camps were fireless and many foodless. It is particularly noteworthy that even the more temporary resting-places are seldom if ever less than a mile or two from the nearest fresh water. In short, the Seri are not a domiciliary folk, but rather homeless wanderers, customarily roving from place to place, frequently if not commonly sleeping where overtaken by exhaustion or storm, ordinarily slumbering through a part of the day and watching by night, habitually avoiding fresh waters save in hurried and stealthy visits, and apparently gathering in their flimsy huts only on special occasions.

The most striking characteristic of the Seri is their walking habit. The warriors, women, and children are all regular travelers; their jacales and even their largest rancherias are only temporary homes, clearly unoccupied more often than not. The main rancherias are a hard day’s journey or more apart, and none of the known rancherias or jacales used consistently are closer than 4 to 10 miles from the fresh water that supplies their occupants. Probably the most frequently used rancherias in the last fifty years have been those located near Costa Rica, yet even these are rarely occupied by the same group for more than two weeks or possibly a month, and are often vacated within a day or two after being set up. Even more temporary camps exist between jacales, and many can be spotted near the well-traveled paths, along the shores, or across the barren, rocky plains; they may just be trampled areas scattered with oyster shells and large bones that have been chewed at the ends, usually sheltered by a shrub or rock. In places with low shrubs or unusually abundant grass, there may be two, three, or perhaps even six “forms” (suggesting the temporary resting places of rabbits), where sturdy bodies settled into the warm earth and underneath the sparse vegetation. Rarely are there ashes and cinders nearby to indicate a small fire's location, and more often, battered and stained or greasy boulders show they were used as meat-blocks or metates, though it is clear that most camps were fireless and many had no food. It's particularly noteworthy that even the more temporary resting spots are seldom less than a mile or two from the closest fresh water. In short, the Seri are not a settled people but rather homeless wanderers, usually moving from place to place, often sleeping wherever they are caught by exhaustion or rain, usually dozing part of the day and keeping watch at night, generally avoiding fresh waters except for rushed and stealthy visits, and seemingly gathering in their flimsy huts only on special occasions.

In conformity with their rovingness the Seri are notable burden-bearers. They habitually carry their entire stock of personal belongings (arms, implements, utensils, and bedding), as well as their stock of food and—weightiest burden of all—the water requisite for prolonged sustenance amid scorching deserts, in all their wanderings, the water being borne chiefly by women, in ollas, either balanced on the head singly or slung in pairs on rude yokes like those of Chinese coolies. And they have never grasped the idea of imposing their burdens on their bestial associates; their coyote-curs are not harnessed or even led; when they surround and capture horses, burros, and kine they make no use of ropes, never think of mounting even when pursued by vaqueros, but immediately break the necks or club out the brains of the beasts, perchance to tear the writhing body into quarters and flee for their lives with the reeking flesh still quivering on their sturdy heads and brawny shoulders—and scores of vaqueros agree in the affirmation (wholly incredible as it would be if supported by fewer witnesses) that even when so burdened the Seri skim the sand wastes of Desierto Encinas more rapidly than avenging horsemen can follow.

In line with their nomadic lifestyle, the Seri are impressive carriers. They usually haul all of their personal belongings (weapons, tools, dishes, and bedding), along with their food and—the heaviest load of all—the water necessary for survival in scorching deserts. During their travels, the water is mainly carried by women in ollas, which are either balanced on their heads alone or slung in pairs on simple yokes similar to those used by Chinese laborers. They have never adopted the practice of putting their burdens on their animals; their coyote dogs aren’t harnessed or even led. When they surround and capture horses, donkeys, and cattle, they don’t use ropes and never think to ride them, even when chased by cowboys. Instead, they quickly break the animals’ necks or club them in the head, sometimes cutting the struggling bodies into pieces and fleeing with the fresh meat still twitching on their strong heads and muscular shoulders. Numerous cowboys agree (in a claim that seems unbelievable without so many witnesses) that, even while burdened, the Seri can cross the sandy deserts of Desierto Encinas faster than the pursuing horsemen can keep up.


The hardly conceivable fleetness of the Seri is conformable with their habitual rovingness and their ability as burden-bearers; and this faculty is established by cumulative evidence so voluminous and consistent as to outweigh the presumption arising from the standards attained among other peoples. A few minutes after they were photographed, the group of boys shown in plate XVI, with several others of about the same size, provided themselves with a stock of their favorite human-hair cords, “rounded up” a dozen mongrel coyote-dogs haunting the rancheria at Costa Rica, and herded the unwilling animals toward a shrubbery-free space a quarter of a mile away, in order to rope them in imitation of the work of the Mexican cowboys earlier in the morning. From time to time as they went a frightened cur sneaked or broke through the cordon of boys, and made for distant shrub-tufts at top speed; yet in every case a boy darted from the ring, headed off the animal within one or two hundred yards, and lashed it back to its place. On arriving at their miniature rodeo the boys widened their ring, and at a signal scattered and frightened the dogs; then, when the fleeing animals had a fair start, each selected his victim and followed 150* it, yelling and swinging his light lasso, until, after much doubling and dodging and many unsuccessful casts, he caught and dragged the howling beast back to the open; and it was only after half a dozen repetitions that enough dogs had escaped to spoil the sport. As the boys lounged chattering back toward the rancheria their course lay between two clumps of the usual desert shrubbery, so placed that when the first was obliquely left and 40 or 50 feet distant from them, the other was obliquely right and 100 feet away. At this point a bevy of small birds (perhaps blackbirds—at any rate corresponding to blackbirds in size and flight) fluttered suddenly out of the nearer clump toward the more distant one, when, too instantaneously for the untrained eye to catch exchange of signal or beginning of movement, the boys lunged forward in a common effort to seize the birds; and though none were entirely successful, one exultantly displayed a tuft of feathers clutched by his fingers as the bird darted into and through the thorny harbor. When the distances were paced it was found that, although the birds had the advantage of the start, the boys covered at least 90 per cent of their distance in the same time; while the spontaneity of the impulse demonstrated habitual chase of flying game under fit conditions.

The incredible speed of the Seri matches their usual roaming behavior and their skills as load carriers; this ability is backed by such extensive and consistent evidence that it overrides any assumptions based on the achievements of other cultures. A few minutes after being photographed, the group of boys shown in plate XVI, along with several peers of similar size, gathered a supply of their favorite human-hair cords, rounded up a dozen mixed-breed coyote-dogs hanging around the rancheria in Costa Rica, and herded the unwilling animals toward an open area a quarter of a mile away, planning to rope them like the Mexican cowboys had done earlier that morning. Occasionally, as they moved, a scared dog would sneak or break through the line of boys and dash towards distant bushes at full speed; yet in every case, a boy would rush from the group, intercept the animal within one or two hundred yards, and drag it back. Upon reaching their makeshift rodeo, the boys expanded their circle, and at a signal, scattered to scare the dogs; then, when the fleeing animals had a good head start, each boy chose his target and chased after it, yelling and swinging his light lasso. After much zigzagging and dodging and several missed attempts, he finally caught and dragged the howling dog back to the open; it was only after half a dozen tries that enough dogs had escaped to ruin the fun. As the boys chatted while walking back to the rancheria, they traveled between two patches of typical desert shrubs, positioned so that when the first patch was left at an angle and 40 to 50 feet away, the other was to the right at a distance of 100 feet. At this moment, a flock of small birds (possibly blackbirds, or at least similar in size and flight to blackbirds) suddenly flew out from the nearer bush toward the farther one. Almost immediately, without any visible signal or indication of movement, the boys lunged forward together to catch the birds; and while no one was completely successful, one boy triumphantly held up a tuft of feathers he had managed to grab as the bird darted into and through the thorny shelter. After measuring the distances, it was clear that although the birds had the advantage of the head start, the boys covered at least 90 percent of the distance in the same time, and the spontaneous reaction showed their natural tendency to chase flying game under the right conditions.

While obtaining the Seri vocabulary with Mashém’s aid, advantage was taken of every opportunity to secure collateral information concerning the actual use of the terms, and thereby of gaining insight into the tribal habits. Through his naive explanations, usually repeated and corroborated by the elderwoman of the Turtle clan (Juana Maria) and others of the tribe, it was learned that half-grown Seri boys are fond of hunting hares (jack-rabbits); that they usually go out for this purpose in threes or fours; that when a hare is started they scatter, one following it slowly while the others set off obliquely in such manner as to head it off and keep it in a zigzag or doubling course until it tires; and that they then close in and take the animal in their hands, frequently bringing it in alive to show that it was fairly caught—for it is deemed discreditable, if not actually wrong, to take game animals without giving them opportunity for escape or defense by exercise of their natural powers. Similarly, Mashém described the chase of the bura and other deer as ordinarily conducted by five persons (of whom one or two may be youths), who scatter at sight of the quarry, gradually surround it, bewilder it by confronting it at all points, and finally close in either to seize it with their hands, or perhaps to brain it with a stone or short club; the former being held the proper way and the latter a partial failure. This hunting custom, described as a commonplace by Mashém, is established by the vaqueros who had frequently witnessed it from a distance; and the same extra-tribal observers described still more striking feats of individual Seri hunters: Don Manuel, son of Señor Encinas, and Don Ygnacio Lozania were endeavoring to train to work a robust Seri (one of a band sojourning temporarily at Costa 151* Rica) noted for his prowess in hunting. One hot afternoon he begged relief from his tasks, saying the spirit of catching a deer had hold on him; and he was excused on condition that the deer be brought entire to the rancho. Two hours later he was seen driving in a full-grown buck; on approaching the rancho the terrified animal turned this way and that, describing long arcs in wild efforts to avoid the human habitation; yet the hunter kept beyond it, heading it off at every turn and gradually working it nearer, until, at a sudden turn, he was able to rush on it; whereupon he caught it, threw it over his shoulders, and ran in to the rancho with the animal still struggling and kicking off its overheated hoofs.

While getting the Seri vocabulary with Mashém's help, every chance was taken to gather additional information about how the terms were actually used, which provided insights into tribal customs. Through his straightforward explanations, often repeated and confirmed by the elder woman of the Turtle clan (Juana Maria) and others in the tribe, it was learned that young Seri boys enjoy hunting hares (jack-rabbits); they typically go out in groups of three or four. When a hare is started, they scatter, with one following it slowly while the others step off at angles to intercept it, keeping it moving in a zigzag or circular path until it tires. They then close in to catch the animal in their hands, often bringing it in alive to show that it was fairly caught—it's seen as dishonorable, if not outright wrong, to take game animals without giving them a chance to escape or defend themselves using their natural abilities. Similarly, Mashém described the deer hunt as usually carried out by five people (one or two of whom can be youths) who scatter when they see the animal, gradually surround it, confuse it by confronting it from all sides, and finally close in to either grab it with their hands or possibly hit it with a stone or short club; the former is considered the correct method, while the latter is seen as only partially successful. This hunting custom, which Mashém described as ordinary, has been observed by vaqueros who have frequently seen it from a distance. The same outside observers reported even more impressive feats from individual Seri hunters: Don Manuel, the son of Señor Encinas, and Don Ygnacio Lozania were trying to train a strong Seri (one from a group temporarily staying at Costa Rica) known for his hunting skills. One hot afternoon, he requested a break from his tasks, claiming he felt a strong urge to catch a deer; he was allowed time off on the condition that he bring the deer back whole. Two hours later, he was seen driving in a full-grown buck; as he approached the ranch, the frightened animal darted around, making wide arcs in a frantic attempt to avoid the buildings, but the hunter stayed behind it, intercepting it at every turn and gradually guiding it closer until, with a sudden movement, he was able to rush at it, catch it, throw it over his shoulders, and run into the ranch with the still-struggling animal kicking its overheated hooves.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XVIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XVIII

“JUANA MARIA,” SERI ELDERWOMAN

“Juana Maria,” Seri Elder

Señor Encinas himself, with Don Andrés Noriega and several other attachés, vouch for the catching of a horse by a Seri hunter in still more expeditious fashion: one of the horses belonging to the rancho was exceptionally fat, and hence exceptionally tempting to the Seri band (and at the same time worthless to the vaqueros); the chief begged for it persistently until, wearied by his importunities, the ranchero offered the horse to the band on condition that a single one of them should catch it within a fixed distance (about 200 yards) from the gateway of the corral—and the offer was promptly accepted. With the view of making the test of fleetness fair, a vaquero was called in to frighten the horse and start him running around the interior of the corral, while a boy stood by to drop the bars at the proper moment, the Indian standing ready outside the gateway; when the animal had gained its best speed the bars were dropped and it bolted for the open plains—but before the 200-yard limit was reached the hunter had overtaken it, leaped on its withers, caught it by the jaw in one hand and the foretop in the other, and thereby thrown it in such manner as to break its neck. Knowing of these and other instances, L. K. Thompson, of Hermosillo, undertook arrangements for publicly exhibiting Seri runners as deer catchers at different expositions during the nineties; but his arrangements failed, chiefly because of the anticipated (and probably underestimated) difficulty of taming the Seri sufficiently for the purpose.

Señor Encinas himself, along with Don Andrés Noriega and a few other officials, vouches for how quickly a Seri hunter caught a horse: one of the horses from the ranch was really fat, making it especially tempting for the Seri group (and at the same time worthless to the cowboys). The chief kept asking for it until the rancher, tired of his persistence, offered the horse to the group on the condition that one of them would catch it from no more than about 200 yards away from the corral gate—and they quickly accepted the offer. To make the speed test fair, a cowboy was brought in to scare the horse and make it run around inside the corral while a boy was ready to drop the bars at the right moment, with the Indian waiting outside the gate. Once the horse was at full speed, the bars were dropped, and it bolted for the open plains—but before reaching the 200-yard mark, the hunter caught up with it, jumped onto its back, grabbed it by the jaw with one hand and the foretop with the other, and threw it in such a way that it broke its neck. Knowing about these and other examples, L. K. Thompson from Hermosillo tried to organize public exhibitions of Seri runners catching deer at various expos during the 1890s; however, his plans fell through mainly because of the expected (and likely underestimated) challenges in taming the Seri enough for the purpose.

About 1893, Señor Encinas and several attendants left Costa Rica one morning for Hermosillo, leaving at the rancho, among others, a Seri matron with a sick child nearly a year old; in the evening (as they learned later) the child was worse, and the matron took the trail about dusk, in the hope of finding a cure in the white man’s touch or other medicine—and at dawn next morning she was at Molino del Encinas, 17 leagues (nearly 45 miles) away, with her helpless child and a peace offering in the form of a hare, which she had run down and caught in the course of the journey. And the matrons, with children astride their hips and water-filled ollas balanced on their heads, and all their goods and chattels piled on their backs, habitually traverse Desierto Encinas from the sea to Costa Rica (some 30 miles), or from Costa Rica to the sea, in a night. 152*

Around 1893, Señor Encinas and several attendants left Costa Rica one morning for Hermosillo. They left behind a Seri woman with a sick child who was nearly a year old. Later that evening, they learned the child was worse, so the woman took the trail at dusk, hoping to find a cure in the white man’s touch or some other medicine. By dawn the next morning, she had reached Molino del Encinas, 17 leagues (almost 45 miles) away, carrying her helpless child and a peace offering—a hare she had caught during her journey. Mothers, with children on their hips and water-filled ollas balanced on their heads, along with all their belongings piled on their backs, regularly cross Desierto Encinas from the sea to Costa Rica (about 30 miles) or from Costa Rica to the sea in one night. 152*

Examples of Seri fleetness and endurance might be multiplied indefinitely, and many of still more striking character might be adduced; but these instances, all attested by several witnesses, all corroborated by independent facts, and all consistent with the observations of the 1894 expedition, seem fairly to represent one aspect of the pedestrian habit of the tribe.

Examples of the Seri's speed and stamina could go on endlessly, and many even more impressive ones could be brought up; but these cases, all confirmed by multiple witnesses, all supported by separate evidence, and all in line with the observations from the 1894 expedition, seem to effectively illustrate one aspect of the tribe's walking habits.


A trait of the Seri hardly less conspicuous than their pedestrian habit is habitual use of hands and teeth in lieu of the implements characteristic of even the lowly culture found among most primitive tribes. Perhaps the most nearly universal implement is the knife—at first of shell, tooth, bone, or wood, later of stone, and last of metal—and hardly a primitive tribe known from direct observation or from relics has been found independent of this most serviceable implement; yet the Seri may be described with reasonable accuracy as a knifeless folk. Awls and marlinspikes of bone and wood, shell cups, and protolithic mullers or hammers are found in numbers in their hands, on their rancheria sites, and in their ancient shell accumulations, while rudely chipped stone arrowpoints are sparsely scattered over their range; yet not a single knife of stone or other wrought substance has been found in their territory or in their possession, save for an occasional metal knife obtained by theft or barter. And the habit of dispensing with this primary implement is attested both by everyday customs and by the traditions and chronicles concerning the tribe. Thus, various observers (notably Hardy) have recorded the features and uses of balsas, harpoons, ollas, etc., yet no records of cutting implements have been found; similarly the chronicles contain records of barter between the Seri and the Sonorenses through which the savages acquired aguardiente, manta, garments, sugar, grain, etc., yet no record is known of the leading articles of exchange to practically all other tribes of the continent, viz., cutlery; and in like manner the local traditions recount the constant desire of the Seri for liquor and tobacco, saccharine and other food substances, clothing or material for making it, tin cups, lard-cans, and other metallic utensils, as well as nails for harpoons and hoop-iron for arrowpoints, in addition to firearms and ammunition; yet the recounters are significantly silent on the subject of knives.

A trait of the Seri that's almost as noticeable as their way of walking is their regular use of hands and teeth instead of tools typically seen even in the simplest cultures of most primitive tribes. One of the most common tools is the knife—originally made from shell, tooth, bone, or wood, then from stone, and finally from metal—and it's rare to find a primitive tribe, known through direct observation or artifacts, that doesn't use this practical tool. However, the Seri can accurately be described as a people without knives. They do have bone and wood awls and marlinspikes, shell cups, and primitive stone tools like grinders or hammers in abundance, while poorly shaped stone arrowheads are scattered across their territory. Still, not a single knife made of stone or any other crafted material has been discovered in their lands or in their possession, except for an occasional metal knife acquired through theft or trade. Their lack of this basic tool is supported by their everyday practices and by stories and records about the tribe. Various observers, particularly Hardy, have noted the features and uses of balsas, harpoons, ollas, etc., but no records mention cutting tools. Similarly, the records describe trade between the Seri and the Sonorenses, through which they obtained aguardiente, blankets, clothing, sugar, grain, etc., yet there's no mention of the main items exchanged with nearly all other tribes on the continent, which are knives. Additionally, local traditions recount the Seri's constant desire for liquor, tobacco, sweets, and other foods, clothing or materials to make it, tin cups, lard cans, and other metal utensils, as well as nails for harpoons and hoop iron for arrowheads, along with firearms and ammunition; yet the storytellers notably don't mention knives.

Conformably, the 60 Seri gathered near Costa Rica in 1894 made it their business to pick up or beg all sorts of industrial products and materials, yet apparently did not possess so many as a dozen knives in the entire band; and while protolithic implements, ollas, shell cups, paint-stones, etc., were seen in constant use, none of the men, women, or children were observed to use knives for cutting meat or for any other customary purpose. Among the supplies laid on top of the jacal shown in plate X, to keep them out of the way of the dogs, was a hind leg of a horse, from femur to hoof (some three days dead and still 153* ripening); most of the larger muscles were already gnawed away, leaving loose ends of fiber and strings of tendon clinging to the bone, the condition being such that the remaining flesh might easily have been cut and scraped away by means of a knife; yet whenever a warrior or woman or youth hungered he or she took down the heavy joint, squatted or sat on the ground with back to one side of the doorway, held the mass at the height of the mouth, and gnawed, sucked, and swallowed, frequently tearing the tissue by twisting and backward jerks of the head, and not only masticating, but swallowing the free ends of tendons still attached to the bone. This process was varied only by seizing with the hands and tearing off a strip of flesh or skin already loosened by the teeth; and it was continued until the bones were practically clean, when they were wrenched apart by the stronger men in order that the cartilaginous cushions and epiphyses might be gnawed away. The only approach to cooking or carving was a parboiling of the foot, after the leg was wrenched off at the hock, until the hoof was sufficiently softened to be knocked off with the protolithic hupf253 shown in plate XLIII, when half a dozen matrons and well-grown maidens gathered about to gnaw the gelatinous tissue (already softened by incipient decay as well as by the parboiling) investing the coffin-bone. The entire procedure in this as in many other cases proclaimed the absence of knife-sense. The Caucasian huntsman does not have to think of his knife when game is to be bled or skinned or dissected; his habit-trained hand knows where to find the implement, how to seize it, and in most cases how to wield it advantageously; but the Seri hand possesses no such cunning, and uses the knife only clumsily and at second thought, if at all. The Seri huntsman, on the other hand, does not have to think of nails and teeth, for they are trained and coordinated by hereditary habit to spontaneously act in unison and with the utmost possible or needful vigor; while the Caucasian at least has completely lost the claw-and-teeth instinct of offense and defense.

In line with this, the 60 Seri people who came together near Costa Rica in 1894 made it their priority to collect or ask for various industrial items and materials, yet they apparently didn't have more than a dozen knives among the whole group. Even though primitive tools, pots, shell cups, paint stones, and so on were consistently in use, none of the men, women, or children were seen using knives for cutting meat or for any other typical purpose. Among the supplies placed on top of the shelter shown in plate X, to keep them out of the dogs' reach, was a hind leg of a horse, from femur to hoof (some three days dead and still 153* ripening); most of the larger muscles had already been gnawed away, leaving loose ends of fibers and tendon strands hanging off the bone. The condition was such that the remaining flesh could have easily been cut and scraped off with a knife, yet whenever a warrior, woman, or youth felt hungry, they would take down the heavy joint, squat or sit on the ground with their back facing one side of the doorway, hold the mass at mouth level, and gnaw, suck, and swallow, often tearing the tissue by twisting and jerking their head backward. They would not only chew but also swallow the free ends of tendons still attached to the bone. This process was only varied by grabbing with their hands and tearing off a piece of flesh or skin that had already been loosened by their teeth; it continued until the bones were nearly clean, at which point the stronger men would wrench them apart so that the cartilaginous cushions and ends could be gnawed away. The closest they came to cooking or carving was parboiling the foot, after taking the leg off at the hock, until the hoof was soft enough to knock off with the simple tool shown in plate XLIII, when half a dozen women and older girls would gather around to gnaw the gelatinous tissue (softened by both decay and parboiling) surrounding the coffin bone. The entire process, in this and many other instances, showed a lack of knife skill. The Caucasian hunter doesn’t need to think about their knife when it's time to bleed, skin, or dissect game; their trained hand knows exactly where to find the tool, how to grab it, and often how to use it effectively. However, the Seri does not possess this instinctive skill and only uses the knife awkwardly and as an afterthought, if they use one at all. On the other hand, the Seri hunter doesn't need to think about their nails and teeth, as they are instinctively trained and coordinated by heritage to act together spontaneously and with the maximum necessary strength; while the Caucasian has largely lost the instinct to use claws and teeth for offense and defense.

Conformably with their striking independence of knives, the Seri are conspicuously unskilful in all mechanical operations involving the use of tools. Their most elaborate manufacture is the balsa, made from reeds broken at the butts and with the leaves and tops removed by the hands or by fire, bound together with hand-made cords; next in elaborateness come the bow and arrow, normally made without cutting tools; then follows their fictile ware, which is made wholly by hand, without aid of the simple molds and paddles and other devices used by neighboring tribes; while their primitive fabrics were apparently of hand-extracted fibers, twisted and woven wholly by hand, with the aid of wood or bone in sewing and possibly in weaving. Practically the Seri possess but a single tool, and this is applied to a peculiarly wide variety of purposes—it is the originally natural cobble used for crushing bones and severing tendons, for grinding seeds and 154* rubbing face-paint, for bruising woody tissue to aid in breaking okatilla poles for house-frames or mesquite roots for harpoons (both, afterward finished by firing), and on occasion for weapons; and this many-functioned tool is initially but a wave-worn pebble, is artificially shaped only by the wear of use, and is incontinently discarded when sharp edges are produced by use or fortuitous fracture. The hupf is supplemented chiefly by the simple perforator of mandible or bone or fire-hardened wood; and these two primitive implements, together with molluscan shells in natural condition, apparently serve as the primary tools for all the mechanical operations of the tribe.

In line with their remarkable independence from knives, the Seri are noticeably unskilled in all tasks involving tools. Their most complex creation is the balsa, made from reeds that are broken at the base with the leaves and tops removed by hand or fire, then tied together with handmade cords. Next are the bow and arrow, typically made without cutting tools; following that is their pottery, crafted entirely by hand, without the simple molds, paddles, and other tools used by nearby tribes. Their basic fabrics seem to come from hand-extracted fibers, twisted and woven completely by hand, using wood or bone for sewing and possibly for weaving. Essentially, the Seri have just one tool, which serves a surprisingly wide range of purposes—it’s a naturally occurring cobble used for crushing bones and cutting tendons, grinding seeds, rubbing face paint, bruising woody materials to help break okatilla poles for house frames or mesquite roots for harpoons (which are then finished by firing), and sometimes for weapons. This versatile tool starts as a wave-worn pebble, only shaped further by use, and is immediately discarded when it develops sharp edges from use or accidental breakage. The hupf is primarily supplemented by a simple perforator made from jawbone, bone, or fire-hardened wood. Together, these two basic tools, along with naturally occurring molluscan shells, seem to be the main tools for all the mechanical tasks of the tribe.

The dearth of tools and the absence not only of knives but of knife-sense among the Seri illumine those traditions of Seri fighting made tangible by the teeth-torn arm of Jesus Omada; for they explain the alleged recourse of the Seri warriors to nature’s weapons, used in the centripetal fashion characteristic of nascent intelligence.

The lack of tools and not just knives but also the understanding of how to use knives among the Seri highlight the traditions of Seri fighting made evident by the bite-marked arm of Jesus Omada; because they clarify the supposed reliance of the Seri warriors on nature’s weapons, utilized in the inward-focused way typical of emerging intelligence.


The Seri are distinguished by another trait hardly less striking than the pedestrian habit, and even more conspicuous than the tooth-and-nail habit with the correlative absence of tool-sense; the trait is not tangible enough for ready definition or description in terms (of course because so unusual as not to have bred words for its expression), but is akin to—or, more properly, an exceeding intensification of—race-pride in all its protean manifestations; it may be called race-sense. Like other primitive folk, the Seri are self-centered (or egocentric) in individual thought, i. e., they habitually think of the extraneous phenomena of their little universe with reference to self, as in the labyrinth of consanguineal relationship extending and ramifying from the speaker; furthermore, they typify primitive culture in their collective thinking, which is tribe-centered (or ethnocentric), i. e., they view extraneous things, especially those of animate nature, with reference to the tribe, like all those lowly folk who denote themselves by the most dignified terms in their vocabulary and designate aliens by opprobrious epithets; but the Seri outpass most, if not all, other tribes in dignifying themselves and derogating contemporary aliens. Concordantly with this habitual sentiment, they glory in their strength and swiftness, and are inordinately proud of their fine figures and excessively vain of their luxuriant locks—indeed, they seem to exalt their own bodies and their own kind well toward, if not beyond, the verge of inchoate deification. The obverse of the same sentiment appears in the hereditary hate and horror of aliens attested by their history, by their persistent blood-thirst, and by the rigorous marriage regulations adapted to the maintenance of tribal purity; for just as their highest virtue is the shedding of alien blood, so is their blackest crime the transmission of their own blood into alien channels. The potency of the sentiment is established by the unparalleled isolation of the tribe after centuries of contact with Caucasians, by their irreducible love of native soil, by their implacable animosity toward invaders, and by 155* their rigorously maintained purity of blood; it is manifested in their commonplace conduct by a singular combination of hauteur and servility, forbidding association with aliens on terms of equality. The entire group at Costa Rica in 1894 were on good behavior, partly, no doubt, for profit, partly because they were at peace bought by bloodshed; yet they kept an impassable gulf between themselves and the Caucasians, and a still wider chasm against the Papago and Yaqui. They came to the tanque, usually in groups, rarely alone, always alert; especially when alone or in twos or threes, they moved slowly and stealthily in their peculiar collected and up-stepping gait, often stopping, always glancing furtively with roving eyes, and bearing a curious air of self-repression—as of the camp-prowling coyote who seems to hold down his instinctively bristling mane by voluntary effort. And the visitor to their rancheria sent a wave of influence before as his approach was noted; laughter ceased, languor disappeared, and a forced, yet sullen, amiability took their place, though the children and females edged away; if he appeared unexpectedly or came too close, the children and younger adults simply flitted like young partridges, while the elders stiffened rigidly, with bristling brows and everting lips and purpling eyes, perhaps accompanied by harsh gutturization—indeed the curiously canine snarl and growl, often evoked by the stranger unintentionally, betrayed the bitterness of Seri antipathy toward even the most tolerable aliens. Every human is panoplied in a personality, perhaps intangible but none the less real, which repels undue approach and fixes limits to familiarity on the part of strangers, friends, kinsmen, and mates, according to their respective degrees of mutually elective affinity; but the Seri are so close to each other and so far from all others that they are collectively panoplied against extratribal personalities even as are antipathetic animals against each other—and the Seri can no more control the involuntary snarl and growl at the approach of the alien than can the hunting-dog at sight or smell of the timber-wolf.

The Seri are marked by another trait that is almost as striking as their ground level behavior and even more noticeable than their aggressive tendencies, which correspond with their lack of tool use. This trait is difficult to define or describe clearly (mostly because it’s so uncommon that there aren’t specific words for it), but it's similar to—more accurately, it's an intense version of—race pride in all its varied forms; we can call it race-sense. Like other primitive communities, the Seri are egocentric in their individual thinking, meaning they typically relate outside events to themselves, especially in the complex web of family relationships that extend from the speaker. Additionally, they embody primitive culture in their group mentality, which is tribe-centric, meaning they see external things, especially living beings, in relation to their tribe. This is similar to many basic societies that use the most honorable terms for themselves and derogatory terms for outsiders; however, the Seri surpass most, if not all, other tribes in elevating their status while belittling neighboring outsiders. Consistent with this sentiment, they take pride in their strength and speed, are excessively proud of their physiques, and are overly vain about their flowing hair—indeed, they seem to elevate their own bodies and their kind to the point of almost deifying themselves. The opposite of this sentiment is demonstrated in their historical hatred and fear of outsiders, shown by their ongoing thirst for bloodshed and strict marriage rules intended to preserve tribal purity; just as their greatest virtue is the shedding of outsider blood, their worst crime is mixing their own blood with that of outsiders. The strength of this sentiment is reinforced by the tribe’s unique isolation after centuries of contact with white people, their deep love for their homeland, their unyielding hostility toward invaders, and their strictly maintained blood purity. It shows in their everyday behavior through a striking mix of arrogance and submission, refusing to associate with outsiders on equal terms. The whole group in Costa Rica in 1894 behaved well, partly for gain and partly because they had peace bought with blood; yet they maintained an unbridgeable divide between themselves and Caucasians, and an even wider gap against the Papago and Yaqui. They approached the tanque usually in groups, rarely alone, always vigilant; especially when they were by themselves or in twos or threes, they moved slowly and stealthily with their unique and deliberate gait, often stopping, always glancing furtively with watchful eyes, and displaying a curious sense of self-control—like a cautious coyote trying to suppress its instinctive urge to bristle. When a visitor approached their rancheria, a change in mood rippled through the group; laughter stopped, laziness vanished, and a forced, yet sullen, friendliness took over, though the children and women crept away. If he came unexpectedly or got too close, the children and younger adults would scatter like young partridges, while the elders tensed up, with furrowed brows, pursed lips, and reddening eyes, possibly accompanied by harsh guttural sounds—in fact, the strange canine-like snarl and growl that often came out in response to a stranger revealed the deep-seated resentment of the Seri toward even the most acceptable outsiders. Every person has a personality, perhaps not tangible but nonetheless real, that repels unwanted attention and sets boundaries for closeness with strangers, friends, family, and partners, depending on their mutual affinities; but the Seri are so interlinked with one another and so distant from everyone else that they are collectively armored against outside personalities, much like unfriendly animals towards each other—and the Seri cannot help but instinctively snarl and growl at strangers just as a hunting dog would react at the sight or scent of a timber wolf.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIX

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

TYPICAL SERI WARRIOR

TYPICAL SIRI WARRIOR

While the highly developed traits represented by pedestrian habit and hand-and-tooth habit and segregative habit expressing race-sense are conspicuous during exercise, each carries an equally well-marked obverse. Thus, while the Seri are known as runners par excellence in a region of runners, and were named by aboriginal neighbors from their spryness of movement, they have been no less notorious among the Caucasian settlers of two generations for unparalleled laziness—for a lethargic sloth beyond that of sluggish ox and somnolent swine, which was an irritating marvel to the patient padres of the eighteenth century, and is today a byword in the even-tempered Land of Mañana; concordantly the sinewy hands and muscular jaws are noticeably inert during the intervals between intense functionings, are practically free from the spontaneous or nervous movements of habitually busy persons, and contribute by their immobility to the air of indolence or languor which 156* so impressed padres and rancheros; concordantly also, the manifestations of race hate, doubtless culminating among warriors on the warpath, are strongly contrasted with the abject docility of the Seri groups when at peace and in camp near Costa Rica and other ranchos—a docility far exceeding that of the Papago, whose personal dignity is an ever-present possession, or that of Yaqui, whose strong spirit so often breaks the curb of Caucasian control. So the observer of the Seri is impressed by the intensity of functioning along lines defined by their characteristic traits, and equally by the capriciousness of the functioning and the remarkably wide range between activity and inactivity which render them aggregations of extremes—the Seri are at once the swiftest and the laziest, the strongest and the most inert, the most warlike and the most docile of tribesmen; and their transitions from rôle to rôle are singularly capricious and sudden. At the same time the observer is impressed by the relatively long intervals between the periods of activity; true, the intense activity may cover hours, as in the chase of a deer, or days, as in a distant predatory raid, or perhaps even weeks, when the tribe is on the warpath; yet all the known facts indicate that far the greater portion of the time of warriors, women, and children is spent in idle lounging about rancherias and camps, in lolling and slumbering in the sun by day and in huddling under the scanty shelter of jacales or shrubbery by night—i. e., when their activity is measured by hours, their intervals of repose must be measured by days.

While the well-developed traits shown by walking habits, eating habits, and racial behaviors are obvious during activity, each also has a noticeable contrast. So, while the Seri are recognized as top runners in a region known for runners, and were named by their indigenous neighbors for their agile movements, they have also gained a reputation among Caucasian settlers over the past two generations for extreme laziness—for a lethargy greater than that of sluggish oxen and sleepy pigs, which was a puzzling frustration for the patient priests of the eighteenth century, and is still a common joke in the easygoing Land of Mañana. Similarly, their strong hands and muscular jaws become noticeably inactive during breaks between intense activities, lacking the spontaneous or nervous movements found in those who are usually busy, contributing to an air of laziness or sluggishness that greatly impressed the priests and ranchers. Likewise, the expressions of racial hatred, likely most intense among warriors in battle, starkly contrast with the submissive behavior of the Seri groups during peaceful times at camp near Costa Rica and other ranchos—this docility surpasses that of the Papago, who maintain their personal dignity, or that of the Yaqui, whose strong spirit often breaks the restraints of Caucasian authority. Therefore, an observer of the Seri notices both the intensity of their actions along lines defined by their specific traits and the unpredictability of their behaviors, alongside the striking contrast between activity and inactivity that makes them seem like extremes—the Seri are both the fastest and the laziest, the strongest and the most inactive, the most belligerent and the most compliant among tribespeople; their shifts from one role to another are notably erratic and abrupt. Additionally, the observer notices the relatively long breaks between their active periods; true, their intense activities can last for hours, like in the chase of a deer, or for days, such as in a distant raid, or even weeks when the tribe goes to war; yet all available information suggests that the majority of the time for warriors, women, and children is spent lounging around rancherias and camps, dozing and basking in the sun during the day and crowding under the limited shelter of jacales or bushes at night—when their activity is measured in hours, their resting periods must be measured in days.


Summarizing those somatic traits connected with habitual functioning, the Seri may be considered as characterized by (1) distinctive pedestrian habit, (2) conspicuous hand-and-tooth habit correlated with defective tool-sense, and (3) pronounced segregative habit correlated with a highly specialized race-sense; yet they are characterized no less by extreme alternations from the most intense functioning to complete quiescence—the periods of intensity being relatively short, and the intervals of quiescence notably long.

Summarizing those physical traits associated with regular behavior, the Seri can be described as having (1) a unique walking style, (2) noticeable habits involving their hands and teeth linked to a poor sense of tools, and (3) a strong tendency to separate correlated with a highly specialized sense of race; however, they are also marked by extreme shifts from highly active states to total rest—the periods of activity being relatively brief, while the periods of rest are significantly longer.


On reviewing the more conspicuous somatic structures and functions jointly, they are found to throw some light on their own development, and hence on the natural history of the Seri tribe.

On reviewing the more noticeable bodily structures and functions together, they reveal some insights into their own development, and therefore into the natural history of the Seri tribe.

Certain characteristics of the tribe strongly suggest lowly condition, i. e., a condition approaching that of lower animals, especially of carnivorous type; among these are the specific color, the centripetally developed body, the tardy adolescence, the defective tool-sense, the distinctive food habits (especially the consumption of raw offal and carrion), the independence of fixed habitations, and the extreme alternations between the rage of chase and war and the quiescence of sluggish repose. But these primitive characteristics are opposed or qualified by such features as the noble stature, the capacious and shapely brain-case, the well-developed hands, and the considerable intelligence revealed in native shrewdness as well as in organization and belief. Collectively the characteristics are in some measure incongruous; yet 157* all are at least fairly compatible with the inference that the tribe is exceptionally (if not incomparably) low in the scale of general human development, yet at the same time highly specialized along certain lines; and the inference in turn is corroborated by the coincidence between the special lines of development and the peculiar conditions of environment characterizing the habitat of the tribe.

Certain traits of the tribe strongly indicate a lowly condition, meaning a state comparable to lower animals, especially carnivorous ones. These traits include specific coloration, a body shape that develops inward, delayed maturation, a limited sense of tools, unique eating habits (especially eating raw offal and carrion), independence from fixed dwellings, and extreme swings between intense hunting and warfare and a sluggish rest. However, these primitive traits are counterbalanced by features such as an impressive physique, a spacious and well-shaped skull, well-developed hands, and significant intelligence shown in both natural cleverness and organization of beliefs. Together, these characteristics seem somewhat mismatched; yet 157* they are at least largely compatible with the conclusion that the tribe is exceptionally (if not overwhelmingly) low in terms of overall human development, while also being highly specialized in certain areas. This conclusion is further supported by the connection between these specialized traits and the unique environmental conditions of the tribe's habitat.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XX

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

TYPICAL SERI MATRON

TYPICAL SERI MOTHER

A striking correspondence between Seri physique and Seri habitat is revealed in the pedal development, with the attendant development of muscle and bone, lung capacity, and heart power, together with other faculties involved in the pedestrian habit. Seriland is a hard and inhospitable home; sea-food is indeed abundant and easily taken, but water is terribly—often fatally—scarce, and obtainable only by distant journeying from the places of easy food supply; moreover, the monotony of the diet is alleviable only by extensive wandering for the collection of vegetal products or severe chase after land animals; while the warlike spirit, apparently inherited from a still less humane ancestry and fostered by the geographic isolation, combines to keep the tribe afoot, avoiding waters, conducting raids, and moving constantly from place to place in the endless search for safety. There is a widespread Sonoran tradition that the Seri systematically exterminate weaklings and oldsters; and it is beyond doubt that the tradition has a partial foundation in the elimination of the weak and helpless through the literal race for life in which the bands participate on occasion. A parallel eliminative process is common among many American aborigines; the wandering bands frequently undergo hard marches under the leadership of athletic warriors with whom all are expected to keep pace, and this leads both to desertion of the aged and feeble and to increased strength and endurance on the part of the strong and enduring; yet it would appear that this merciless mechanism for improving the fit and eliminating the unfit attains unusual, if not unequaled, perfection among the Seri. Now pedal development is one of the special processes of peripheral (or centrifugal) functioning and growth involved in the general process of cheirization, which, coordinately with cephalization, defines human progress;254 and this developmental process explains the specialization of the Seri along one or more lines, and connects the special development directly with environing conditions.

A noticeable link exists between the physique of the Seri and their environment, particularly seen in their foot development, along with the growth of muscles and bones, lung capacity, and heart strength, as well as other abilities related to their walking lifestyle. Seriland is a tough and unforgiving place; while seafood is plentiful and easy to gather, water is incredibly scarce—often dangerously so—and can only be obtained after traveling long distances from the areas where food is easily accessible. Additionally, the boredom of their diet can only be eased by extensive foraging for plant products or pursuing land animals. The tribe is continuously on the move, avoiding water, conducting raids, and searching for safety, all of which seem to stem from a warrior spirit likely inherited from a harsher ancestry and intensified by their geographic isolation. There's a common belief among the Sonoran people that the Seri eliminate the weak and the elderly, and it’s clear that this belief has some basis in the survival race they experience as a group. A similar process of selection is seen among many Native American tribes; these wandering groups often embark on challenging journeys led by strong warriors, with everyone expected to keep up, which results in the abandonment of the elderly and weak, while simultaneously enhancing the strength and endurance of the strong. However, this brutal method of strengthening the fit and removing the unfit seems to reach an extraordinary level of efficiency among the Seri. Foot development is a key part of the peripheral (or centrifugal) functioning and growth that contributes to the overall process of cheirization, which, along with head development, defines human advancement; 254 and this growth process accounts for the specialization of the Seri in specific areas, linking their unique development directly to their environmental conditions.

A notable correspondence between structure and function, of such sort as to reflect the habit and habitat, appears in the conspicuous manual development of the Seri. Enjoying a climate too mild to make houses necessary, finding animal food too plentiful to necessitate elaborate contrivances for the chase or milling or other devices for reducing vegetal food, provided by nature with material (in the form of carrizal) for an ideally suitable water craft, barred by geographic boundaries from neighboring tribes, and having neither material for nor interest in commerce, the denizens of Seriland were never forced into the way of mechanical development; yet their simple industries, involving as they 158* do swift stroke and strong grasp and dexterous digitation, are mainly such as urge manual development more strenuously than would be normal among tribesmen connected with their environment through the medium of tools. The demand for manual strength and skill is intensified among the Seri by both natural and domestic conditions; the ever-ready (and almost the sole) material suitable for simple adjuncts to the hand abounds in the form of wave-worn cobbles; these cobbles are easily usable in such wise as to serve all ordinary purposes, and their abundance discourages the production of more highly differentiated tools; while their habitual use promotes manual strength and deftness, coupled with that digital freedom (required, for example, in grasping a ball) which most clearly distinguishes the human hand from the subhuman paw. Conjoined with these natural conditions are demotic demands tending to cultivate manual fitness and eliminate the manually unfit; for, in addition to the direct industrial premium on dexterity, through which the dexterous survive while the clumsy starve, there is a special premium growing out of the marriage custom, through which only the manually efficient (and at the same time morally acceptable) are put in the way of leaving lines of descendants.255 Naturally, in view of the combination of factors, all traceable directly or indirectly to environmental conditions, the Seri afford a peculiarly striking example of cheirization extended to an entire tribe (if not to a genetic stock of people)—indeed the remarkably developed Seri hands and feet first suggested the importance of this process of human development and led to its formal characterization.

A significant connection between structure and function, reflecting lifestyle and environment, is evident in the noticeable physical development of the Seri. Living in a climate that’s too mild for homes, with animal food readily available which eliminates the need for complex tools for hunting or processing plant food, and having natural materials (like carrizal) that are perfect for watercraft, the inhabitants of Seriland have been cut off by geography from neighboring tribes and lacked both the resources and interest for trade. As a result, they never had to pursue mechanical innovation. Yet, their simple activities, which require quick movements, strong grips, and skilled fingers, actually demand more manual development than what is typically seen among tribal communities that rely on tools. The need for manual strength and skill is heightened for the Seri by both natural and social conditions; the abundant wave-worn cobbles are readily available for making simple tools, which discourages the creation of more specialized equipment. Using these cobbles regularly helps build manual strength and dexterity, along with the finger flexibility needed for tasks like gripping a ball, setting the human hand apart from animal paws. Alongside these natural factors are social pressures that encourage manual skill and weed out those who are less capable; besides the direct advantage of dexterity in survival, marriage customs require potential mates to be both skilled and morally acceptable to ensure they have descendants. Given this combination of factors, all linked to environmental conditions, the Seri provide a striking example of enhanced manual development within a whole tribe (or even a specific genetic group)—indeed, the exceptionally developed hands and feet of the Seri highlighted this process of human development and led to its formal identification.

Accordingly, the robust-bodied and slender-limbed yet big-fisted and big-footed Seri seem to be adjusted, so far as several of their more striking somatic characters are concerned, to distinctive habits themselves reflecting a distinctive habitat; and the coincidences appear to reveal and establish the law of interaction between the human organism and its environment—an interaction effected through the habits and hence through, the normal functioning of the individual organisms as constrained through their collective relations. And recognition of the law of interaction opens the way to consideration of other correspondences between structures and functions and environing conditions.

The strong, curvy bodies and slim limbs of the Seri, combined with their large hands and feet, seem well adapted to their unique lifestyle, which in turn reflects their specific environment. These similarities appear to highlight the connection between human beings and their surroundings—an interaction shaped by habits and how individual organisms function within their social dynamics. Recognizing this connection leads to exploring other relationships between physical structures, functions, and environmental conditions.

Conspicuous among the more strictly functional traits of the Seri is the intensity of action characteristic especially of the warriors, though in less degree of the entire tribe—an intensity made all the more striking by contrast with the extreme inertness between stresses. Manifestly the capacity for concentrated effort is in harmony with the tribal habits, themselves reflecting habitat. The resource of prime importance in Seriland—that which directly and constantly conditions the very existence of human inhabitants—is potable water. This prime source of life is too heavy to be transported and too unstable to be stored with the facilities of primitive culture, yet it is always within reach of an organism strong enough to journey ten or twenty or fifty 159* miles in search of it, and acute enough to follow trails and indications. Naturally the meager water-supply serves as a mechanism for sorting out and preserving the strong and the acute, and for eliminating the weakly and the dull; and hence the tribe have developed a faculty, or perhaps a potentiality, of distinctive sort—the potentiality of providing against thirst-death by a reserve power in the organism itself rather than in the form of mechanical devices such as characterize higher culture. Quite similar are the relations to the resource of second importance, i. e., ordinary food. Habituated to dispensing with storage and transportation of their primary resource, and accustomed to finding food whenever forced to sufficiently active effort to obtain it, the Seri have never grasped that first principle of thrift expressed in the accumulation of food supplies; and accordingly they intuitively rely on successful fishing or chase or search of vegetal edibles for sustenance, and habitually delay effort until they are stirred into activity by the pangs of hunger. Naturally this improvidence serves as another mechanism for perpetuating families of stored vitality, and especially those able to prevail over swift or strong or cunning quarry by sustained vigor and alertness after prolonged deprivation; and the effect of this mechanism, too, is to develop a reserve power in the organism itself, in lieu of the material reserve made through thrift in higher culture. Similar in their consequences are the relations of the individual organisms to the third industry of Seriland, i. e., navigation of the gale-swept and tide-troubled waters. Even the buoyant balsa can not weather the williwaws or ride the tiderips of El Infiernillo without exercise of the utmost strength and skill on the part of the navigators; while the often persistent storms may delay for days embarkation on voyages in quest of fresh water or food. Naturally, the frequent delays and not infrequent perils of such navigation constitute a mechanism for selecting navigators possessed of reserve powers adequate to meet desperate emergencies with vigor and judgment even after enervating waits for wind and tide, while those not so well endowed are either brought up to standard in their hard training-school or expelled from their class by drowning or dashing on the rocks, as may happen; so that the effect of this mechanism also is to preserve individuals and perpetuate generations characterized by reserve power, and hence to develop latent potentiality in the tribe. Now, the normal product of these and other natural mechanisms immediately reflecting environmental conditions is capacity for spurts, or for intense functioning under severe stress, despite accentuation of the stress by thirst or hunger or exhaustion, or by all combined—i. e., the effect of habitat and habit is to produce precisely such a somatic regimen as that so conspicuously displayed by the Seri folk. So the intensified activity with long intervals of inertness, simulating the habits of carnivorous and some other lower animals, and hence suggesting primitive condition, would appear to be largely a phylogenetically acquired character expressing specific adjustment to environment. 160*

Among the most noticeable traits of the Seri people is the intense action, especially seen in the warriors, but to a lesser extent in the entire tribe. This intensity stands out even more when contrasted with their extreme inactivity during downtime. Clearly, their ability to focus their effort aligns with their tribal customs, which reflect their environment. The most critical resource in Seriland is drinking water, which plays a direct and constant role in the survival of the people. This essential source of life is too heavy to carry and too unstable to store using primitive means; however, it is always within reach of someone strong enough to travel ten, twenty, or even fifty miles to find it, and smart enough to follow trails and signs. Naturally, the limited water supply acts as a filter, preserving the strong and intelligent while weeding out the weak and dull. As a result, the tribe has developed a unique ability—the ability to cope with the threat of dying from thirst by relying on the strength within their bodies rather than on material tools typically seen in more advanced cultures. Their relationship with the second most important resource, which is food, is quite similar. Accustomed to not storing or transporting their primary resource and knowing how to find food whenever they are motivated enough to seek it out, the Seri have never embraced the basic principle of saving, which involves stockpiling food supplies. Instead, they instinctively depend on successfully fishing, hunting, or gathering edible plants for their sustenance, often delaying effort until hunger compels them to act. This lack of foresight further contributes to the continuation of families that are fit and resilient, particularly those who can overcome quick or strong prey through sustained energy and alertness after going without food for some time. This mechanism also fosters the development of inner strength in individuals instead of accumulating material reserves through saving, as seen in more developed societies. A similar pattern emerges in their relation to the third vital industry in Seriland, which is navigating the turbulent and tide-affected waters. Even a buoyant balsa raft cannot withstand the fierce winds or navigate the turbulent tides of El Infiernillo without the utmost strength and skill from the navigators. Frequent storms can also delay voyages for days when searching for fresh water or food. Consequently, the ongoing delays and risks associated with this navigation act as a natural selection mechanism, choosing those navigators who possess enough inner strength to handle emergencies with energy and good judgment, even after exhausting waits for suitable conditions. Those who do not meet these standards either get trained up or are lost to drowning or crashing on the rocks. Thus, this mechanism also serves to preserve individuals and continue generations characterized by inner strength, developing latent potential in the tribe. The typical outcome of these and other natural mechanisms that reflect environmental conditions is the ability to exert themselves intensely under severe stress, despite the added pressure from thirst, hunger, exhaustion, or all three combined. The result of their habitat and habits is to create the kind of physical resilience prominently displayed by the Seri people. Their pattern of heightened activity interspersed with long periods of inactivity, resembling the behavior of carnivorous and other lower animals, suggests a primitive state that is likely a biologically acquired trait shaped by their environment.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXI

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

SERI RUNNER

SERI Runner

To the actual observer of the Seri in his prime there is an indefinable but none the less impressive harmony between the intense regimen and the trenchant structural development characteristic of the tribe—a harmony like unto that felt by naturalist and artist alike in viewing at once the clean-cut form and vigorously easy mobility of tiger or thoroughbred horse; and simple inspection of the lithe limbs and body-muscles stirs into living realization a half-felt inference from many facts—the obvious and indubitable inference that they are stress-shaped structures. Accordingly, the concentrated and robust bodies, the shapely jaws, the well-chiseled arms, and the statuesque legs of the Seri, no less than their powerful hands and bulky feet, direct special attention to the axiom that somatic structures are the product of exercise, and indicate with convincing clearness that the structures are trenchantly developed because of the supreme intensity of the creative exercise. It may be impracticable to outline in terms of metabolism the precise processes of waste and repair in organs and organisms, or to define the relative periods of action and assimilation (or of catabolism and anabolism) best adapted to the development of motile tissue; yet the external facts of all bodily growth demonstrate the efficiency of alternating effort and repose, while the characteristics of highly developed animal bodies (including those of the Seri) demonstrate that the most beneficial exercise is that of relatively brief but intense stresses alternating with relatively long intervals of sluggish movement or complete repose. Moreover, the facile metabolism involved in the widely alternating regimen implies exceptional somatic plasticity of the sort normally accompanying youth and attending tissue growth; and this persistent bodily plasticity is in harmony with the peculiarly dilatory maturation characteristic of the Seri tribe. So the animal-like bodies of the Seri, no less than their animal-like movements, which at first sight suggest primitive condition, may safely be held in large measure to reflect specific habits of life, themselves reflecting a distinctive habitat.

To the person observing the Seri in their prime, there's an indescribable yet striking harmony between their rigorous lifestyle and the impressive physical development typical of the tribe—similar to what naturalists and artists feel when they see the sleek form and agile movement of a tiger or thoroughbred horse. Just looking at their flexible limbs and strong muscles brings to life an almost instinctive understanding from many observations—the clear and undeniable conclusion that these bodies are shaped by stress. Thus, the strong and well-defined bodies, the sculpted jaws, the perfectly formed arms, and the striking legs of the Seri, along with their powerful hands and sturdy feet, highlight the idea that physical structures are shaped by physical activity. They clearly show that these bodies are developed through intense physical challenges. While it might be difficult to explain the exact metabolic processes of wear and repair in organs and bodies, or to define the best periods for action and recovery (or the balance between breaking down and building up) for developing muscle tissue, the observable facts of any growth show how effective alternating activity with rest can be. Moreover, the features of well-developed animal bodies (including those of the Seri) suggest that the most beneficial exercise involves short bursts of high intensity followed by longer periods of slower movement or complete rest. Additionally, the flexible metabolism associated with such varied routines indicates a remarkable ability to adapt physically—something typically seen in youth and during tissue growth. This ongoing physical adaptability aligns with the notably slow maturation process that characterizes the Seri tribe. Therefore, the animal-like physiques of the Seri, along with their animal-like actions, which might initially seem primitive, can largely be understood as reflections of specific lifestyle habits shaped by their unique environment.

Still more suggestive to the observer than the well-molded structures and the intense functioning with which they are conjoined are those elusive yet persistent characteristics of the Seri comprised in their distinctive race sense—characteristics ranging from overweening intratribal pride to overpowering extratribal hatred. Even at first blush it would seem obvious that the tribal isolation, itself the reflection of environment, would necessarily tend toward a segregative habit with concomitant hostility toward aliens; yet the race-sense of the Seri so far transcends that of other segregated tribes as to suggest the existence of a specific cause. So, too, it would seem obvious that the race feeling gathers about a corporeal nucleus in the form of the race-type exemplified in the heroic stature, the shapely face, the mighty chest, the luxuriant hair, the well-modeled muscles, the powerful feet and hands, the “collected” carriage, and the stored vitality, which (as already indicated) synthesize the environmental interactions of generations; yet the actual student can not avoid the impression that the 161* race-sense dominates the race-type—that the Seri are farther away from neighboring tribes in feeling than in features, in function than in structure, in mind than in body. Now, in seeking the sources of this distinctive (not to say specific) race-sense, several suggestions arise. Naturally the first suggestion is that of simple sexual selection, the (assumptive) analogue of an important factor in biotic evolution; but the suggestion is at once apparently negatived by the fact that all the mature men and women are married and have families of children proportionate to their ages. True, undesirable fiancés may be expelled from the tribe, or even executed (as intimated by neighboring Sonorenses); yet there is little evidence that either method of selection is employed among the Seri more largely than among other peoples; and, as all recent researches indicate, the higher peoples at least have risen above the plane of sexual selection per se as an effective factor in somatic development. A second suggestion arises in the axiom (vivified by realization of the connection between Seri movements and Seri structures) that perfected organs are the product of stressful functioning—indeed, the suggestion is but the extension of the axiom from the individual to the stirp and the group. In developing the suggestion it is convenient to divide the career of the stirp into periods defined by the successive wax and wane of vitality in its most significant manifestations; and this may be done in terms of successive individual lifetimes in their three successive aspects of (1) youth, (2) maturity, and (3) senility, in which the dominant constructive functions are respectively (1) somatic growth, (2) collective growth (comprising both procreation and the accumulation of artificial possessions), and (3) dissipation of somatic vitality and distribution of extrasomatic accumulations (generational as well as material and intellectual). Now, it is a commonplace in every stage of culture that vital capacity, and also the inherent sense of kind manifested in pairing, culminate in the medial portion, or prime, of individual life; and if this universal recognition is valid, it is just to hold that the career of the stirp is defined by the successive vital climaxes expressing the primes of the series of generations pertaining to the stirp. It follows that each generation must represent, not the average qualities of the entire generation past, but the qualities of the most virile and muliebrile fraction of that generation; whence it follows in turn that in general the generations must develop along the lines most prominent in the lives of each people in their prime. The process may be formulated as the law of periodic conjugation, under which successive generations are initiated, not at random, but at periods of culminant effectiveness in shaping the course of the stirp. The immediate application of this law to the Seri tribe is manifest, for it explains (the initial condition of isolation and the consequent incipient segregative habit being given) how and why the tribal standards have grown more definite from generation to generation, and have interacted cumulatively with the distinctive environment in such manner as continually to widen the chasm between the desert-bound 162* tribe and their alien neighbors. Yet the general application of the law leads only to a more specific application; for, just as the career of the stirp is made up of a succession of vital maxima and minima, so the lifetime of the individual, even in the median stage, is made up of a series of vital climaxes separated by relatively inert intervals; and, as recognized by every naturalist and romancist, every philosopher and poet, in every stage of culture, it is during the periods of conative domination by the master passion that the career of the individual is shaped and that the stirp-sentiment (or susceptibility to kind) culminates in intensity. It follows that the progeny of successive generations represent not merely the optimum median stage of life in which vitality and virility and muliebrity are at flood, but the very climaxes of this stage in which manhood and womanhood attain their ideals, and in which the ideals react on the physical system with unequaled intensity; it follows in turn that each generation must (in so far as intellectual tension can control long series of metabolic interactions after the manner in which short series are controlled by direct volitional exercise) incarnate the ideals of the preceding generation; whence it follows still further that in general isolated race-types tend constantly and cumulatively to increase in definiteness—at least until the somatic factors are counterbalanced by demotic relationships arising with considerable increase in population. It is true that the extent to which the incarnation of ideals is effective or even possible has not been measured; it is also true that the naturalists of the higher culture-stages commonly neglect the process; yet the occasional recognition of its positive aspect, as in Goethe’s “elective affinities” and in Jacob’s getting of “ringstraked, speckled, and spotted” stock (Genesis XXX, 37-41), and the practically universal recognition—more especially among primitive peoples—of its negative aspect in adverse prenatal influences, clearly indicates its importance; the fact that the ancient Greeks at once idealized in unparalleled degree, and produced unexcelled perfection in, the human form being of no small significance. Even if the measure of the incarnation of ideals be reduced to the lowest minimum consistent with common knowledge, it remains true that the progeny of successive generations are not the offspring of average parents, but of pairs at the perfection and conjugal culmination of their virile and muliebrile excellencies; so that the generations must run in courses of cumulatively increasing racial (or human) perfection, under a general law of conjugal conation.

Still more striking to the observer than the well-crafted structures and the intense interactions tied to them are the elusive yet persistent features of the Seri, which are rooted in their unique sense of race—traits that span from extreme intratribal pride to intense extratribal hostility. At first glance, it seems clear that the tribal isolation, reflecting their environment, would naturally lead to a tendency towards segregation along with hostility towards outsiders; however, the Seri's race sense far surpasses that of other isolated tribes, suggesting there might be a specific cause behind it. Similarly, it seems apparent that the race feeling is centered around physical traits embodied in heroic stature, attractive faces, strong physiques, abundant hair, well-defined muscles, robust hands and feet, upright posture, and stored vitality, which synthesize the environmental influences of generations; yet those studying the Seri get the impression that the race sense is more dominant than the race type—that their feelings set them apart from neighboring tribes more than their physical traits do, in function more than in structure, in mind more than in body. In exploring the origins of this unique (and arguably specific) race sense, several ideas arise. Naturally, the first thought is simple sexual selection, a presumed parallel to a significant factor in biological evolution; yet this idea seems immediately countered by the fact that all mature men and women in the tribe are married and have children appropriate to their age. True, unworthy suitors may be kicked out or even executed (as suggested by neighboring Sonorenses); however, there’s little evidence that these methods of selection are employed more extensively among the Seri than with other peoples; and, as recent research shows, at least the more advanced cultures have moved past sexual selection as a major factor in physical development. Another idea stems from the principle (reinforced by the recognition of the connection between Seri actions and structures) that well-developed traits result from demanding functions—this notion merely extends the principle from individual to lineage and community. To develop this idea, it's helpful to break down the lineage's progression into phases marked by the rise and fall of vitality in its most crucial manifestations; this can be framed in terms of successive individual lifetimes across three main stages: (1) youth, (2) maturity, and (3) old age, where the dominant constructive functions are respectively (1) physical growth, (2) collective growth (including both reproduction and the accumulation of material possessions), and (3) the depletion of physical vitality and distribution of acquired resources (both generational and material/intellectual). It is a common observation across all cultures that vital energy, as well as the inherent sense of kinship shown in partnerships, peaks in the middle or prime of one’s life; if this is valid, then the lineage's journey can be defined by the successive high points of vitality reflecting the primes of generations within it. This means that each generation represents not the average traits of the past generation, but rather the qualities of the most vigorous men and women of that generation; consequently, it follows that generations will generally develop along the most prominent characteristics seen in the lives of individuals during their prime. This process can be described as the law of periodic conjugation, where successive generations arise not randomly, but during times of maximum effectiveness in shaping the lineage's path. The immediate relevance of this law to the Seri tribe is clear, as it explains (given their initial isolation and the resulting tendency towards separation) how tribal norms have become increasingly defined from one generation to the next, and how they have interacted cumulatively with their distinct environment to continually deepen the divide between the desert-bound tribe and their foreign neighbors. Yet the broader application of the law leads to an even more specific application; just as the lineage's journey consists of a series of vital highs and lows, so does an individual's lifetime, even during their prime stage, consist of a series of vital peaks separated by relatively inactive periods; and, recognized by every naturalist, novelist, philosopher, and poet across all cultures, it is during the times dominated by strong passions that an individual's life takes shape and that the group sentiment (or kinship sensitivity) reaches its peak intensity. This implies that the offspring of successive generations embody not only the peak medium stage of life when vitality, masculinity, and femininity are at their height, but also the very peaks of this stage, where ideals of manhood and womanhood reach fulfillment, and these ideals influence the physical system with unmatched intensity; it further indicates that each generation must (as long as intellectual effort can guide long-term metabolic interactions, similar to how short-term decisions direct immediate actions) embody the ideals of the previous generation; leading to the conclusion that isolated racial types tend to consistently and cumulatively become more defined—at least until the biological factors are balanced out by social relations arising from a substantial population growth. It's true that the extent to which the realization of ideals is effective or even feasible has not been quantified; it’s also true that naturalists from more advanced cultural stages often overlook this process; nevertheless, the occasional acknowledgment of its positive aspect, as seen in Goethe’s “elective affinities” and Jacob’s breeding of “ringstraked, speckled, and spotted” livestock (Genesis XXX, 37-41), along with its nearly universal acknowledgment—especially among primitive cultures—of its negative aspect regarding adverse prenatal influences, clearly highlights its significance; the fact that the ancient Greeks idealized and achieved unparalleled perfection in the human form underscores its importance. Even if measuring the realization of ideals is minimized to the lowest degree consistent with common understanding, it remains true that the offspring of subsequent generations are not the product of average parents, but of couples at the height and marital peak of their masculine and feminine qualities; thus, the generations must progress along pathways of cumulatively increasing racial (or human) excellence, governed by a general law of marital conation.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIO TYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

SERI MATRON

Siri Mother

In extending the general law of conjugal conation to the Seri, it is found peculiarly applicable, in view of their distinctive marriage custom, the effect of which is to intensify conjugal sentiments, with the attendant magnification, and potential if not actual incarnation, of ideals.256 Accordingly there would appear to be a harmony between 163* Seri race-sense and Seri race-type no less delicate than that between the stressful action and the stress-shaped structures of the tribe, and while the inception of both type and feeling may be ascribed to the isolated environment, it seems manifest that both have interacted constructively and in cumulative fashion through a significant process exemplified more clearly by this tribe than by others thus far studied. At the same time, analysis of the harmony between type and sentiment indicates that the lowly Seri are actually, albeit unconsciously, carrying out a meaningful experiment in stirpiculture—an experiment whose methods and results are equally valuable to students. The Seri gymnastic and the Seri stirpiculture are in close accord, in that both are conditioned by initially dilatory yet ultimately intense action; the results are equally accordant in that the one conduces toward individual vigor and the other toward a vigorous and distinctive stirp; while the excellence of the methods (viewed from the somatic standpoint) is attested by the magnificence of the product. Now, comparison of the stirpicultured Seri with contemporary tribes shows that the desert-bound folk have attained unequaled somatic development, and suggests that the intuitive stirpicultural processes have been rendered peculiarly effective through the persistence of that tribal isolation in which the processes apparently took rise; so the race-sense of the Seri may be regarded as the product of long-continued stirpicultural processes, initially shaped by environment, yet developed to unusual degree by somatico-social habits, kept alive largely through continuous environmental interaction.

In applying the general law of marital connection to the Seri, it proves particularly relevant due to their unique marriage customs, which enhance marital feelings and amplify, if not embody, ideals. Thus, there seems to be a delicate balance between the Seri's sense of identity and their racial characteristics, comparable to the relationship between the pressures and the shaped structures of the tribe. Although both identity and feelings may come from their isolated environment, it's clear that they have constructively interacted and built upon each other in a significant way that is more evident in this tribe than in others studied so far. At the same time, examining the balance between identity and emotion indicates that the humble Seri are, perhaps unknowingly, conducting a meaningful experiment in breeding—an experiment whose methods and outcomes are valuable for researchers. The physical training of the Seri and their breeding practices align closely since both are marked by an initially slow but ultimately intense approach; the outcomes are similarly aligned, promoting individual strength and a robust and unique lineage. The effectiveness of these methods (from a physical perspective) is demonstrated by the impressive results. When comparing the bred Seri to modern tribes, it becomes clear that these desert-dwelling people have achieved unmatched physical development. This suggests that their intuitive breeding methods have become especially effective due to the ongoing tribal isolation from which these practices seem to have originated. Therefore, the Seri's sense of identity can be seen as the result of prolonged breeding processes, originally influenced by their environment but further developed to an unusual extent through physical and social habits, maintained largely through continuous interaction with their surroundings.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

YOUTHFUL SERI WARRIOR

YOUNG SERI WARRIOR


Summarily, the Seri are characterized by noble physique, by peculiarly swift and lightsome movements, by great endurance coupled with capacity for vigorous action, by animal-like symmetry and slowness of maturation, and by various minor attributes combining with the major features to form a distinctive race-type; and they are still more conspicuously characterized by an acute race-sense which holds them apart from all aliens. At first sight, several of their somatic attributes seem incomparably primitive, yet analysis of the attributes in the light of certain laws which they exemplify better than other peoples thus far studied indicates not so much a lack of development as an excess of growth along purely somatic lines, with a correlative defect of development along demotic lines; and when the lines of growth are traced to the sources and conditions, it becomes fairly clear that the aberrant development of the tribe is merely the reflection of a distinctive environment operating (evidently) throughout a long period. In brief, the somatic interest of the Seri seems to center in the remarkable adjustment of the tribe to a peculiar environment—an adjustment of such delicacy as to imply interaction throughout many generations. 164*

In summary, the Seri are known for their strong build, quick and graceful movements, impressive endurance paired with the ability for intense activity, animal-like symmetry, slow maturation, and various minor traits that combine with the main features to create a unique racial type. They are even more notably defined by a strong racial identity that sets them apart from outsiders. At first glance, some of their physical characteristics may appear quite primitive, but analyzing these traits in light of certain principles, which they demonstrate better than other populations studied so far, suggests that it’s not so much a lack of development as it is an overemphasis on physical characteristics, with a corresponding underdevelopment in social aspects. When you trace the growth patterns back to their origins and conditions, it becomes clear that the tribe's unusual development is simply a reflection of a unique environment that has been in play for a long time. In short, the physical focus of the Seri seems to revolve around their remarkable adaptation to a specific environment—an adaptation so nuanced that it indicates interaction across many generations. 164*


DEMOTIC CHARACTERS

The Seri, like all other peoples, are characterized by various collective attributes which vastly transcend in interest and importance the somatic attributes exhibited by the individuals. These superorganic attributes are essentially activital—i. e., they represent what the people do rather than what they merely are; and in both collective and activital aspects they serve to distinguish the human realm from the organic realm, and to afford a basis for the classification of mankind—i. e., they combine to form demotic characters.

The Seri, like all other groups, are defined by various collective traits that go far beyond the physical characteristics shown by individuals. These traits are vital—they represent what the people do rather than what they simply are; and in both collective and vital aspects, they serve to set the human world apart from the organic world and provide a foundation for classifying humanity—meaning they come together to form cultural characteristics.

The demotic characters of the Seri, like those of other peoples, may be classed as (1) esthetic, (2) industrial, (3) institutional, (4) linguistic, and (5) sophic; and in this order the essentially human attributes of the tribe (except the last named) may be described. It is a matter of deep regret that the data concerning the demotic characters of the tribe are too meager to afford more than a mere outline of their activities, and that their suggestive mythology must be passed over for the present.

The everyday symbols of the Seri, similar to those of other cultures, can be categorized into (1) aesthetic, (2) industrial, (3) institutional, (4) linguistic, and (5) philosophical; and in this order, we can describe the key human qualities of the tribe (excluding the last one). It's truly unfortunate that the information about the tribe's everyday symbols is too limited to provide more than just a basic overview of their activities, and that we have to overlook their intriguing mythology for now.

Symbolism and Design

FACE-PAINTING

One of the most conspicuous customs of the Seri is that of painting the face in designs by means of mineral pigments. Of the 55 members of the tribe shown in the group forming plate XIII, 28 (in the original photograph; a somewhat less number in the reproduction) exhibit face-painting more or less clearly, and this proportion may be regarded as typical; i. e., about half of the tribe are painted.

One of the most noticeable customs of the Seri is painting their faces with designs using mineral pigments. Of the 55 tribe members shown in the group in plate XIII, 28 (in the original photograph; a slightly lower number in the reproduction) show face-painting to varying degrees, and this proportion can be considered typical; that is, about half of the tribe is painted.

On noting the individual distribution of face-painting, it is found to be practically confined to the females, though male infants are sometimes marked with the devices pertaining to their mothers, as adult warriors are said to be on special occasions; and so far as observed all the females, from aged matrons to babes in arms, are painted, though sometimes the designs are too nearly obliterated by wear to be traceable. About 35 of the individuals shown in the group (plate XIII) are females; of these, fully four-fifths showed designs or definite traces of the paint, while the remaining fifth bore traces too faint to be caught by the camera; but none of the men or larger boys were painted. In the smaller group shown in plate XIV all of the females display paint, as does the small boy in the center also, while the man (husband of the middle-aged matron) reveals no trace of the symbol. The two pictures typify the prevalence and the distribution by sex of the painting.

When looking at how face-painting is used, it's mostly seen on females, although some male infants occasionally have designs that match their mothers, just like adult warriors do on special occasions. It appears that all females, from elderly women to babies, are painted, although sometimes the patterns are too worn to see clearly. In the larger group shown in plate XIII, about 35 individuals are female; of these, around 80% have designs or clear signs of paint, while the remaining 20% have marks too faint to be captured by the camera. However, none of the men or older boys have paint on them. In the smaller group seen in plate XIV, all the females are painted, as is the little boy in the center, while the man (the husband of the middle-aged woman) has no signs of the symbol. These two pictures illustrate the commonality and gender distribution of the painting.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIV

SERI BELLE 165*

SERI BELLE 165*

The painted designs vary among different individuals, but are fairly persistent for each. The prevailing design at Costa Rica in 1893 was that of the aged matron known as Juana Maria (plate XVIII), with variations in detail such as that exhibited by her unmarried daughter Candelaria (the Seri belle shown in plate XXIV); next in frequency were the designs, in white and red, exhibited by the matrons portrayed in plates XX and XXII. Other designs observed are indicated in plate XXVI. The variations in individual designs are apparently due either to varying care in the application of the paint or to the degree of obliteration by wear—e. g., the withered Juana Maria sometimes put on her design askew and was negligent of details, while the blooming Candelaria greatly elaborated the details of the pattern and carefully perfected the symmetry of the whole when preparing for her full-dress sitting before the camera (plate XXIV), so that her design was then gorgeous by contrast with the nearly obliterated blur of a half-hour before. The designs are renewed every few days, especially for ceremonious occasions, and hence are practically permanent.

The painted designs differ among individuals but remain quite consistent for each person. The most common design in Costa Rica in 1893 belonged to the elderly matron known as Juana Maria (plate XVIII), with variations in detail, like those seen in her unmarried daughter Candelaria (the Seri beauty shown in plate XXIV); the next most frequent designs, in white and red, were worn by the matrons displayed in plates XX and XXII. Other observed designs are noted in plate XXVI. The differences in individual designs seem to come from either the care taken in applying the paint or how much wear has affected them— for instance, the aged Juana Maria sometimes wore her design crooked and ignored some details, while the vibrant Candelaria put great effort into elaborating the details of her pattern and ensuring the symmetry of the overall look when getting ready for her full-dress photo session (plate XXIV), making her design striking compared to the almost erased version from half an hour earlier. The designs are refreshed every few days, especially for special occasions, so they are practically permanent.

When grouped in relation to their wearers, the designs are found to exhibit family connection. Thus, Juana Maria’s design is repeated, with greater elaboration of detail and with a pair of supplementary marks, in that of her daughter Candelaria; the winged symbol of the Seri matron portrayed in plate XX is repeated with minor variations in that of her daughter, the Seri maiden pictured in plate XXV; while the symbols of the mother and infant daughter depicted in plate XV are essentially alike. It is noticeable, too, that in the nearly spontaneous arrangement of individuals in the group shown in plate XIII there is a tendency toward subgrouping by symbols; and it was constantly observed that the family groups gathered about particular jacales (such as that shown in plate XIV) displayed corresponding designs, though there were frequent visitors from neighboring jacales bearing other designs. Briefly, all the observed facts, as well as the supplementary information gained by inquiry, indicate that the designs are hereditary in the female line, but are susceptible of slight modification both in elaborateness of detail and in the addition of minor supplementary features.

When looking at designs in relation to their wearers, it's clear there’s a family connection. For example, Juana Maria’s design appears again in her daughter Candelaria’s, but with more detailed elements and an added pair of marks; the winged symbol of the Seri matron shown in plate XX reappears with small variations in her daughter, the Seri maiden depicted in plate XXV; while the symbols for the mother and infant daughter in plate XV are quite similar. It's also noticeable that in the almost spontaneous arrangement of people in the group shown in plate XIII, there's a tendency to group by symbols; family groups gathered around specific jacales (like the one shown in plate XIV) often displayed matching designs, even though there were regular visitors from nearby jacales with different designs. Overall, all the observations and additional information from inquiries suggest that these designs are passed down through the female lineage, but can be slightly altered in detail and by adding minor additional features.

The principal apparatus and materials used in the face-painting are illustrated in plate XXVII. The chief pigments are ocher, gypsum, and the rare mineral dumortierite; the ocher yields various shades of red, ranging from pink to brown; the gypsum affords the white used in most of the designs; while the dumortierite is the source of the slightly varying tints of blue. So far as was observed, the pigments are not blended by mixing, though there is some blending due to overlapping in application. The ocher is commonly extracted and transported as lumps of ocherous clay or ocherous gypsum (plate XXVII, figures 1 and 5), though it is sometimes reduced to powder and transported in bits of skin or rag, or in cylinders of cane (plate XXVII, figures 3 and 4); and it is 166* prepared by trituration with a pebble or rubbing with the fingers, usually in a shell cup. Sometimes the shell used for the purpose is the valve of a Cardium, which serves indiscriminately as cup, spoon, skin-scraper, etc.; but preference is apparently given to thick and strong shells, such as the wave-worn valve of Chama (?), shown in plate XXVII, figure 7, which are consecrated to the use and eventually buried with the user, together with a supply of the paint (like that illustrated in the cane cylinder—figure 4—which was a mortuary sacrifice). The gypsum is usually carried in natural slabs or other fragments, perhaps rounded by wear (plate XXVII, figures 6 and 8); it is prepared by wetting and rubbing two pieces together, the larger being reduced to metate shape by the operation. The dumortierite was observed only in the form of a pencil made by pulverizing the substance and mixing with sufficient clay to give consistency. The several pigments are applied wet by means of human-hair brushes kept for the purpose, the process occupying from half an hour to three or four hours for the more elaborate designs. So far as observed at Costa Rica in 1894, the paints were mixed in water only; but since painting outfits found on Tiburon island in 1895 were smeared with grease, it is probable that either water or fats may serve for menstrua, at the convenience of the artists. Commonly the process of painting is measurably cooperative. The matron usually depicts her device on the faces of her daughters up to the age of 12 or 15 years, when they learn to make the applications themselves; and frequently two or more women (usually those with similar devices) work together in preparing and applying the pigments, each laying the paint on her own face and apparently guiding her hand partly by the sense of feeling and partly by suggestions from her coworkers; but Candelaria and some other of the younger women at Costa Rica frequently worked alone, aided by a mirror in the form of a shallow bowl of water set in the shadow while the brilliant desert glare fell full on the face.

The main tools and materials used in face painting are shown in plate XXVII. The primary pigments are ocher, gypsum, and the rare mineral dumortierite. Ocher provides various shades of red, from pink to brown; gypsum gives the white used in most designs; and dumortierite supplies the slightly varying shades of blue. As observed, the pigments aren't mixed by blending, although some mixing happens due to overlapping applications. Ocher is typically extracted and transported as lumps of ocherous clay or ocherous gypsum (plate XXVII, figures 1 and 5). Sometimes it's ground into powder and carried in bits of skin or rag, or in cane cylinders (plate XXVII, figures 3 and 4). It's prepared by grinding it with a pebble or rubbing it with fingers, usually in a shell cup. Sometimes the shell used is from a Cardium, which is used as a cup, spoon, skin-scraper, etc. However, thicker and stronger shells, like the wave-worn valve of Chama (?), shown in plate XXVII, figure 7, are preferred. These are dedicated for use and are eventually buried with the user, along with a supply of paint (like that in the cane cylinder—figure 4—which was a mortuary offering). Gypsum is generally carried in natural slabs or other fragments, which might be smoothed by wear (plate XXVII, figures 6 and 8). It's prepared by wetting and rubbing two pieces together, with the larger piece shaped like a metate through this process. Dumortierite was only seen in pencil form, made by pulverizing the mineral and mixing it with enough clay for consistency. The different pigments are applied wet with human-hair brushes made for this purpose, and the process takes anywhere from half an hour to three or four hours for the more intricate designs. In Costa Rica in 1894, paints were mixed only with water; however, since painting kits found on Tiburon Island in 1895 were smeared with grease, it’s likely that either water or fats could be used, depending on what the artists prefer. Usually, the painting process is somewhat collaborative. The matron typically paints her designs on her daughters' faces until they reach around 12 to 15 years old, at which point they learn to apply the paint themselves. Often, two or more women (usually those who share similar designs) work together to prepare and apply the pigments, each painting her own face while guided partly by touch and partly by suggestions from her peers. However, Candelaria and some of the younger women in Costa Rica often worked alone, using a mirror made from a shallow bowl of water set in the shade while the bright desert light shone directly on their faces.

The mines yielding the pigments were not located. The geologic conditions are such that the ochers are undoubtedly abundant; but it is probable that the gypsum is uncommon and confined to a remote locality or two, and that the dumortierite is rare and scanty here as elsewhere. The care with which the paints are preserved, prepared, and applied, the fact that they are indispensable feminine appurtenances even on the longest journeys, and their sacred rôle in the mortuary customs, all combine to indicate that they are among the most highly prized possessions of the people and by far the most precious of their minerals.

The locations of the mines where the pigments come from haven't been found. The geological conditions suggest that ochers are definitely plentiful; however, it’s likely that gypsum is rare and only found in a few remote places, and that dumortierite is also scarce, just like elsewhere. The meticulous way the paints are stored, prepared, and used, along with the fact that they’re essential for women even on long journeys and hold a sacred role in burial customs, all point to the fact that these pigments are some of the most valued possessions of the people and their most treasured minerals.


The sematic functions of the designs are esoteric, yet an inkling of their meaning was obtained through Mashém, the interpreter at Costa Rica in 1894; from his expressions it appears that the designs are sacred insignia of totemic character, serving to denote the clans of which the tribe is composed. But three clans were identified, and 167* these only with some uncertainty, viz., the Turtle clan,257 denoted by the symbols of Juana Maria (plate XVIII) and Candelaria (plate XXIV and the upper left figure in plate XXVI); the Pelican clan, denoted by the designs of two typical matrons (plates XX and XXII) and a typical maiden (plate XXV), and probably also by those of the medio-lateral figures in plate XXVI; and (still less certainly) the Rattlesnake clan, denoted by the symbol of the lower left figure in this plate. The special sematic values of the colors also are esoteric, and were not ascertained; even in the case of the simple pelican design, the difference in meaning between the solid red pattern of one group and the similar pattern of white in another group was successfully concealed. So, too, the significance of the various subordinate or supplementary devices—the distinct border-line shown in plate XX, the lower cheek devices in plate XXIV, the separate chin mark in plate XXV, the fetish-like symbols on the lower cheeks in the lower left figure of plate XXVI, etc.—eluded inquiry; while some of the minor features of both form and color were sufficiently variable in the devices borne by different faces of the same family, and even in successive paintings of the same face, to suggest some individual freedom in carrying out the detail of the generally uniform designs.

The symbolic meanings of the designs are mysterious, but a glimpse of their significance came from Mashém, the interpreter in Costa Rica in 1894. His comments suggest that the designs are sacred symbols of a totemic nature, used to represent the different clans within the tribe. However, only three clans were identified, and even that is uncertain: the Turtle clan, indicated by the symbols of Juana Maria (plate XVIII) and Candelaria (plate XXIV and the upper left figure in plate XXVI); the Pelican clan, represented by the designs of two typical matrons (plates XX and XXII) and a typical maiden (plate XXV), and possibly also by the medio-lateral figures in plate XXVI; and (even less certain) the Rattlesnake clan, represented by the symbol of the lower left figure in this plate. The special symbolic meanings of the colors are also unclear and remain unknown; even in the case of the simple pelican design, the difference between the solid red pattern in one group and the similar white pattern in another was effectively hidden. Likewise, the meanings of various additional or supporting elements—the distinct border shown in plate XX, the lower cheek designs in plate XXIV, the separate chin mark in plate XXV, the fetish-like symbols on the lower cheeks in the lower left figure of plate XXVI, etc.—evaded understanding; while some minor features of both form and color were variable enough in the designs used by different members of the same family, and even in consecutive representations of the same individual, to suggest that there was some individual freedom in detailing the generally consistent designs.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXV

SERI MAIDEN

SERI MAIDEN

The telic functions, or ultimate purposes, of the face-painting are also esoteric, though not beyond the reach of inference from the sematic functions, coupled with general facts of zoic and primitive human customs. Even at first sight the painted devices bring to mind the directive markings of lower animals defined by Professor Todd258 and interpreted by Ernest Seton-Thompson;259 and in view of the implacably militant habit of the Seri it would seem evident that the artificial devices are, at least in their primary aspect, analogous to the natural markings. On analyzing the directive markings of animals, it is convenient to divide them into two classes, distinguished by special function, usual placement, and general relation to animal economy: the first class serve primarily to guide flight in such manner as to permit ready reassembling of the flock; they are usually posterior, as in rabbit, white-tail deer, antelope, and various birds; and they primarily signify inimical relations to alien organisms, with functional exercise under stress of fear. The second class of markings serve primarily for mutual identification of approaching individuals; as comports with this function, they are usually facial, or at least anterior; and their functional exercise is normally connected with peaceful association—though the strongly emphasized facial symbols of the males doubtless 168* blazon forth the alternative meanings of preference for peace or readiness for strife, like the calumet tomahawk of the Sioux warrior (as interpreted by Cushing). So the directive markings of the first class are substantially beacons of danger and fear, while those of the second are just as essentially standards of safety and confidence; and they may properly be designated as beacon-markings and standard-markings, respectively.260 On seriating the two classes in terms of development, it is at once found that the beacon-markings are in large measure connected with excursive movement and are centrifugal in effect, while the standard-markings are connected mainly with incursive movement and are centripetal in effect; at the same time the latter express not only the higher intelligence, but also the greater degree of that conjustment which forms the basis of collective organization; so that the latter unquestionably represents the higher developmental stage. Now, the primary functions of these directive markings of the higher grade—signalization (or attentionization) and identification—correspond precisely with paramount needs of the alien-hating and clan-loving Seri; so that careful analysis would seem fully to justify the casual impression of functional similitude between the Seri face-painting and the directive markings of social animals.

The purposes of face painting are also complex, but we can infer some of their meanings from their functions alongside general facts about animal and early human behaviors. Even at first glance, the painted designs remind us of the directional markings seen in lower animals, as described by Professor Todd and interpreted by Ernest Seton-Thompson. Given the aggressive nature of the Seri people, it seems clear that these artificial markings are, at least primarily, similar to natural markings. When we analyze the directional markings on animals, we can categorize them into two groups based on their specific functions, usual locations, and roles in animal behavior. The first group mainly helps guide movement to ensure the group can easily come together again; these markings are typically found towards the back of the animals, like in rabbits, white-tailed deer, antelopes, and various birds. They mainly indicate hostile relations with other organisms and are used primarily when animals are scared. The second group of markings is primarily for identifying other individuals approaching; fitting this function, they are usually on the face or at least towards the front. Their use is normally linked to peaceful interactions, although the prominently displayed facial symbols of males likely convey the dual messages of a preference for peace or a readiness for conflict, similar to the peace pipe of a Sioux warrior, as interpreted by Cushing. So, the first group of markings acts as warnings of danger and fear, while the second serves as signs of safety and confidence. We can refer to them as beacon-markings and standard-markings, respectively. When we look at the development of these two groups, we see that beacon-markings are largely associated with outward movement and have a centrifugal effect, whereas standard-markings are mostly connected with inward movement and have a centripetal effect. Additionally, the latter reflect not only higher intelligence but also a greater degree of the cooperation that underpins social organization, indicating a more advanced developmental stage. The primary functions of these more sophisticated directional markings—signaling and identification—align perfectly with the needs of the clan-oriented and alien-hating Seri people. Thus, a detailed analysis supports the initial impression of similarities in function between Seri face-painting and the directional markings of social animals.

While the first survey establishes a certain analogy between the primitive face-painting and the standard-markings of animals, an important disparity is noted when the survey is extended to individuals; for among beasts and birds the standards are usually the more conspicuously displayed by the males, while the paint devices of the Seri are confined to the females. A suggestion pointing toward explanation of this disparity is readily found in the seriation of developmental stages marked by (1) the fear-born beacon-markings, (2) the confidence-speaking standard-markings, and (3) the painted symbols; for the artificial devices coincide with an immeasurably advanced mental development, with concomitant advance in safety and peace on the one hand and in artificializing weapons on the other hand. This suggestion alone fails to explain the disparity fully, yet it raises another, growing out of the great social advancement connected with the mental development—i. e., the effect of the distinctively demotic organization of the human genus as represented by the Seri people. On considering this organization, it is found strictly maternal: the tribe is made up of clans defined by consanguinity reckoned only in the female line; each clan is headed by an elderwoman, and comprises a hierarchy of daughters, granddaughters, and (sometimes) great-granddaughters, collectively incarnating that purity of uncontaminated blood which is the pride of the tribe; and this female element is supplemented by a masculine element in the persons of brothers, who may be war-chiefs or shamans, and may hence dominate the movements of groups, but whose 169* blood counts as nothing in the establishment and maintenance of the clan organization. Thus the females alone are the blood-carriers of the clans; they alone require ready and certain identification in order that their institutional theory and practice may be maintained; and hence they alone need to become bearers of the sacred blood-standards. The warriors belong to the tribe, and are distinguished by luxuriantly flowing hair, by the up-stepping movement from which the people derive their appellation, by their unique archery attitude, and by their dark skin-color; the boys count for little until they enter the warrior class; but on the females devolves the duty of defining and maintaining the several streams of blood on which the rigidly guarded tribal integrity depends.261 Undoubtedly the blood-markings play an important rôle in courtship and marriage, but too little is known of the esoteric life of the tribe to permit this rôle to be traced.

While the first survey shows a certain similarity between primitive face-painting and the markings on animals, a significant difference is noted when you look at individuals. Among animals and birds, the more noticeable markings are usually displayed by males, while the paint designs of the Seri are limited to females. A possible explanation for this difference can be found in the progression of developmental stages marked by (1) fear-driven beacon markings, (2) confidence-displaying standard markings, and (3) painted symbols. The artificial designs correspond with a far more advanced mental development, which is linked to increased safety and peace, as well as the artificial improvement of weapons. This explanation alone doesn’t completely account for the difference, but it leads to another consideration: the significant social advancement connected to mental development, specifically the distinctively communal organization of the human species as represented by the Seri people. Upon examining this organization, it is found to be strictly maternal: the tribe consists of clans defined by bloodlines traced through females; each clan is led by an elder woman and includes a hierarchy of daughters, granddaughters, and sometimes great-granddaughters, collectively embodying the pride of pure, uncontaminated blood that the tribe values. This female aspect is complemented by a male presence in the form of brothers, who may serve as war chiefs or shamans and may thus influence group dynamics, but their blood does not hold weight in establishing and maintaining clan organization. Therefore, only the females carry the bloodlines of the clans; they alone require clear and consistent identification to keep the tribe’s traditions intact, and so they are the ones who need to represent the sacred blood standards. The warriors belong to the tribe and are recognized by their long flowing hair, their distinctive movement that gives the people their name, their unique archery stance, and their dark skin. Boys hold little value until they become warriors, but it is the females who have the responsibility of defining and maintaining the different bloodlines essential to the strict integrity of the tribe. Undoubtedly, the blood markings play an important role in courtship and marriage, but there is too little known about the inner life of the tribe to allow this role to be fully understood.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL XXVI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL XXVI

CHARACTERISTIC FACE PAINTING.

SIGNATURE FACE PAINTING.

In brief, the Seri face-painting would seem to be essentially zoosematic, or symbolic of zoic tutelaries, and to signify subspecific (or subvarietal) characteristics maintained by the clan organization and kept prominent by the militant habit of the tribe; at the same time it is noteworthy that the purely symbolic motive is accompanied by a nascent decorative tendency, displayed by the individual refinement of form and color in the symbol proper to each of the groups.

In short, Seri face-painting appears to be mainly zoosematic, representing animal guardians and indicating specific traits maintained by the clan structure and highlighted by the tribe's warrior culture. At the same time, it’s important to note that this purely symbolic purpose comes with an emerging decorative aspect, shown through the individual refinement of shape and color in the symbols unique to each group.

DECORATION IN GENERAL

Aside from the face-painting there is a conspicuous dearth of decoration or tangible symbolism among the Seri.

Aside from the face-painting, there is a noticeable lack of decoration or meaningful symbols among the Seri.

The symbolic or decorative modification of the physique would seem to be limited to two classes of mutilations, of which one was observed at Costa Rica in 1894 while the other is apparently obsolete. The observed corporeal modification is the absence of medial superior incisors of the females, in consequence of forcible removal at a period not definitely ascertained. The interpreter at Costa Rica was uncommunicative on the subject; Don Pascual opined that the mutilation formed part of an elaborate puberty ceremonial, and this opinion would seem to be corroborated by the condition of the cranium of an immature female examined by Dr Hrdlička; but since the half-dozen adult maidens at the rancho in 1894 were free from the mutilation while all the wives bore its gruesome trace, it would seem more probable that the custom is connected with marriage. Whatever the period of the infliction, Mashém’s guarded expressions seemed to indicate that it was a mark of physical inferiority; and this suggestion, interpreted in the light of the Seri use of teeth as weapons of offense and defense, would seem to indicate that the mutilation is at once the badge of corporeal inferiority and a means of maintaining the physical superiority of the males—of course in that theoretically fiducial but actually forceful way characteristic of primitive culture. 170*

The symbolic or decorative alteration of the body seems to be limited to two types of modifications, one of which was noted in Costa Rica in 1894 while the other is apparently no longer practiced. The observed bodily modification is the absence of the upper middle incisors in females, caused by their forced removal at a time that hasn't been clearly established. The interpreter in Costa Rica was not very forthcoming about the topic; Don Pascual suggested that the modification was part of a complex puberty ritual, and this idea seems to be supported by the condition of the skull of an immature female examined by Dr. Hrdlička. However, since the half-dozen adult women at the rancho in 1894 did not have this modification while all the wives did, it seems more likely that the custom is linked to marriage. Regardless of when the modification occurs, Mashém's cautious comments suggested it was a sign of physical inferiority; and this suggestion, when viewed in light of the Seri people's use of teeth for offense and defense, indicates that the modification serves as both a mark of bodily inferiority and a way of maintaining the physical dominance of males—naturally in that theoretically trusted but actually forceful manner typical of primitive cultures. 170*

The second mutilation was the only corporeal modification noted by early missionaries and explorers—it was the perforation of the nasal septum for the insertion of a skewer, perhaps of polished stone (though doubtless more commonly of bone), to which swinging objects were attached. One of the most useful records is that of the Jesuit, Padre Joseph Och, who described the nasal attachment as a small, colored stone suspended by cords from the perforated septum, and guarded with such jealous veneration that “one must give them at least a horse or a cow for one” (ante, p. 78); while according to Hardy’s record, the nasal fetish is “a small, round, white bone, 5 inches in length, tapering off at both ends, and rigged something like a cross-jack yard.”262 The custom is apparently obsolete, and nothing is known directly of details or motives.

The second alteration was the only physical change noted by early missionaries and explorers—it involved piercing the nasal septum to insert a skewer, likely made of polished stone but more commonly made of bone, to which hanging objects were attached. One of the most useful accounts is from the Jesuit, Padre Joseph Och, who described the nasal accessory as a small, colored stone suspended by cords from the pierced septum, which was protected with such intense reverence that “one must give them at least a horse or a cow for one” (ante, p. 78); while according to Hardy’s account, the nasal ornament is “a small, round, white bone, 5 inches long, tapering off at both ends, and rigged something like a cross-jack yard.”262 The practice seems to be obsolete now, and nothing is known directly about its details or reasons.

Fig. 7—Snake-skin belt.

Fig. 7—Snake skin belt.

Excepting these mutilations the corporeal decoration of the Seri is apparently limited to the face-painting: among the 60 individuals at Costa Rica in 1894 there was no trace of tattooing or scarification of face, limbs, or body; there were no labrets or earrings, and neither lips nor ears were pierced, nor were nasal septa observed to be perforated in accordance with the reputed ancient custom; the teeth were neither filed nor drilled; no indications of amputation or other maiming (save the removal of the incisors) were observed—indeed, the instinct for physical markings of symbolic or decorative character, which seems to be normal to primitive men, was apparently satisfied by the prevalent and persistent face-painting among the females.

Aside from these alterations, the physical decoration of the Seri seems to be mainly limited to face painting. Among the 60 individuals examined in Costa Rica in 1894, there were no signs of tattooing or scarring on the face, limbs, or body. There were no labrets or earrings, and neither lips nor ears had been pierced. No perforations in the nasal septum were noted, which was believed to be an ancient custom. The teeth were neither filed nor drilled, and there were no signs of amputation or other injuries (except for the removal of the incisors). In fact, the instinct for physical markings that are symbolic or decorative, which appears to be common among primitive people, seemed to be fulfilled by the widespread and ongoing face painting observed among the females.

The extra-corporeal decorative devices are of a meagerness and poverty 171* even transcending the poor apparel, flimsy habitations, and generally ill-developed artifacts of the lowly tribe.

The external decorative items are so minimal and lacking that they surpass the shabby clothing, weak shelters, and generally underdeveloped objects of the lower class. 171*

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL XXVII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL XXVII

SERI FACE PAINTING PARAPHERNALIA.

SERI face painting supplies.

Fig. 8—Dried flower necklace.

Fig. 8—Dried flower necklace.

The most prominent personal possession is the pelican-skin robe; it is usually made of six skins, slightly dressed and in full plumage, sewed together with sinew in a conventional pattern of such sort as to give the greatest possible expanse consistent with the irregular outlines of the individual skins, and at the same time to display a conventional color pattern on the feathered side, the colors ranging from the dorsal slate to the ventral white of the fowl (as indicated in plate XXIII); sometimes there are only four skins and rarely there are eight, but the conventional arrangement is maintained. Before the beginning of a fairly regular barter at Rancho de Costa Rica, and hence before the introduction of manta and other stuffs, the pelican-skin robes were supplemented by kilts made of mesquite root or other fibers, spun and twisted in the fingers and woven probably on some primitive device no longer in use; but so far as is known these native fabrics were devoid of decorative patterns in color or weave. Less habitually a short wammus or shirt, with long sleeves, made of a material similar to that of the kilt, was worn; but it, too, was without ornamentation, so far as can be ascertained. The remaining article of utilitarian apparel is the belt, usually consisting of a strip of skin (of deer, rabbit, peccary, etc.), slightly dressed with the hair on; frequently this is replaced by a cord or braided band of human hair, while the favorite belt of some of the 172* young warriors is a snake skin (such as that illustrated in figure 7); but so far as was seen the belts are not extended into tassels, decorative appendages, or even flowing ends.

The most notable personal possession is the pelican-skin robe. It's usually made from six pelican skins, lightly treated and with their feathers intact, stitched together with sinew in a pattern that maximizes the overall size while accommodating the irregular shapes of the individual skins. At the same time, it showcases a standard color pattern on the feathered side, with colors ranging from a grayish slate on top to white underneath (as shown in plate XXIII). Sometimes, there are only four skins, and rarely there are eight, but the standard arrangement is kept. Prior to the start of regular trading at Rancho de Costa Rica, and before the introduction of manta and other fabrics, the pelican-skin robes were supplemented by kilts made from mesquite root or other fibers, twisted by hand and likely woven on some kind of primitive loom that is no longer used; however, these native fabrics did not have decorative patterns in color or weave as far as is known. Less commonly, a short wammus or shirt with long sleeves, made from a material similar to the kilt, was worn, but it was also plain, based on what can be determined. The other piece of practical clothing is the belt, typically made from a strip of skin (like deer, rabbit, or peccary), lightly tanned with the hair still on. This is often replaced by a cord or braided band made from human hair. Some young warriors prefer a belt made from snake skin (like the one shown in figure 7); however, the belts generally do not have tassels, decorative elements, or flowing ends.

Fig. 9—Seed necklace.

Fig. 9—Seed necklace.

Fig. 10—Nut pendants.

Fig. 10—Nut charms.

Fig. 11—Shell beads.

Fig. 11—Shell beads.

Fig. 12—Wooden beads.

Fig. 12—Wooden beads.

The presumptively decorative costumery observed is limited to necklaces, usually of strung seeds, shells, and beads of wood or bone (figures 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13), though animal appendages, such as hoofs, teeth, etc., are sometimes worn. The most highly prized necklace found at Costa Rica was a human-hair cord with nine crotalus rattles attached (figure 14), worn by a young warrior of the Rattlesnake (?) clan. Not the slightest indication of headdresses was seen (though deer and lion masks are said by Hardy to have been worn on occasions); there were no bracelets, leg-bands, or rings of any description, and the cheap jewelry given to many of the women and youths at Costa Rica was either strung about the neck or concealed; while it is significant that even the showiest jewelry was less appreciated than bits of manta or lumps of sugar. When it is remembered that the Seri have been in occasional contact with Caucasians for over three and a half centuries, the fact that not a single glass bead was found among them becomes significant; and the significance of the simple fact is increased by the virtual absence of that persistent desire and protean use for beads—or bead-sense—so prominent among most primitive tribes. 173*

The decorative clothing noticed mainly consists of necklaces, typically made from strung seeds, shells, and beads made of wood or bone (figures 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13). Sometimes, animal parts like hooves and teeth are worn as well. The most valuable necklace discovered in Costa Rica was made from human hair and had nine rattles attached (figure 14), worn by a young warrior from the Rattlesnake (?) clan. There was no sign of headdresses (although Hardy mentions that deer and lion masks were worn on certain occasions); there were also no bracelets, leg-bands, or rings. The inexpensive jewelry given to many of the women and young people in Costa Rica was either worn around the neck or hidden away, and it's noteworthy that even the fanciest jewelry was valued less than pieces of manta or chunks of sugar. Considering that the Seri have had sporadic contact with Caucasians for over three and a half centuries, the fact that not a single glass bead was found among them is significant. This significance is heightened by the almost complete absence of the persistent desire for beads—or the bead-sense—that is often seen among most primitive tribes. 173*

Fig. 13—Necklace of wooden beads.

Fig. 13—Wood bead necklace.

Naturally the conditions at Costa Rica were unfavorable to the study of native ideas concerning apparel. The women and some of the children were arrayed chiefly in cast-off habiliments of the rancheras or in nondescript rags, while the men either aped Mexican fashions, like Mashém, or shamefacedly sweltered under the unaccustomed burden of tatterdemalion gear; yet there was a meaningful absence of that desire for finery so prominent among primitive peoples—a fact quite as eloquent in itself as the absence of bracelets and bangles, tassels and trappings. It is probable that the shamans and mystery-hedged crones in the depths of Seriland enhance their influence by the aid of symbolic paraphernalia (indeed, some inkling of such customs is found in the meager records of earlier visitors);263 yet the conspicuous feature of Seri costumery is the dearth of decorative devices.

Naturally, the conditions in Costa Rica were not ideal for studying local ideas about clothing. The women and some of the children mostly wore hand-me-downs from the rancheras or worn-out rags, while the men either copied Mexican styles like Mashém or awkwardly struggled with the unfamiliar burden of tattered clothes; yet, there was a noticeable lack of that desire for fancy attire often seen among primitive cultures—a fact that speaks volumes, just like the absence of bracelets and bangles, tassels, and decorations. It’s likely that the shamans and mysterious old women deep in Seriland boost their influence with symbolic items (in fact, some hints of such customs appear in the sparse records of earlier visitors); 263 yet the most striking aspect of Seri clothing is the lack of decorative elements.

The habitations of the tribe are the simplest of jacales—mere bowers, affording partial protection from sun and wind, but not designed to shed rain or bar cold. Half a dozen of these were examined at Costa Rica in 1894 and probably a hundred more, in various stages of habitability, in Seriland proper in 1895, yet not the slightest trace of decoration was observed—the structures are plainly and barrenly utilitarian in every feature. The same may be said of the balsas in which the Seri navigate their stormy waters; for the peculiarly graceful curves of the craft evidently stand for nothing more than the mechanical solution of a complex problem in balanced forces, wrought out through the experience of generations, while the simple reed bundles are absolutely devoid of paint, of superfluous cord, of fetishistic appendages or markings, of tritons, nereids, or other votive symbols at bow or stern, and of industrially superfluous features or attachments in general—indeed, the only appendages discovered were one or two simple wooden marlinspikes (shown in figure 26), thrust among the reeds to be at hand in case of need for repairs.

The homes of the tribe are basic huts—just simple structures that offer some shelter from the sun and wind but aren't built to keep out rain or cold. A few of these were looked at in Costa Rica in 1894, and probably around a hundred more, in different states of livability, in the actual Seriland in 1895. Yet, there was no sign of decoration noticed—everything about the structures is purely functional and bare. The same goes for the rafts the Seri use to navigate their rough waters; the elegantly curved shapes of the boats are just a practical solution to a complicated problem of balance, developed over generations. The simple bundles of reeds have no paint, no unnecessary rope, no spiritual symbols or decorations at the front or back, and lack any non-essential features or attachments overall—actually, the only extras found were one or two basic wooden marlinspikes (shown in figure 26), stuck among the reeds for easy access in case repairs were needed.

Fig. 14—Rattlesnake necklace.

Fig. 14—Rattlesnake necklace.

Among the utensils employed in the primitive householdry of the Seri the most conspicuous and at the same time the most essential is the olla, or water-jar. Its technical features are described elsewhere; but it may here be noted that the olla is the central artifact about which the very 174* life of the tribe rotates: since the clans never reside and rarely camp nearer than 3 to 15 miles from the aguaje, a large part of the water consumed must be transported great distances in these vessels; since the region is one of extreme aridity, the lives of small parties often depend on the integrity of the olla and on the care with which the fragile vessel is protected from shock or overturning; and hence the utensil must occupy a large if not a dominant place in everyday thought—indeed, the fact that it does so is attested by constant custom and also by its employment as the most conspicuous among the mortuary sacrifices. Thus, the relation of the Seri olla to its makers and users is parallel with that of the ever-present earthen pot to the Pueblo people, or that of the cooking basket to the acorn-eaters of California, save that its relative importance is enhanced by the fewness of activital lines and motives in Seri life. Moreover, this most characteristic utensil is established and hallowed in Seri thought by immemorial associations: its sherds are sown over the hundred thousand square miles of ancient “despoblado” from Tiburon to Caborca, Magdalena, Rio Opodepe, and Cerro Prieto, and are scattered through the 90 feet of shells forming Punta Antigualla (perhaps the oldest shell mound of America); and all the sherds from the range 175* and the shell-strata are so like and so different from any other fictile ware as to be distinguished at a glance. Hence it would seem manifest that the Seri olla must constitute a normal nucleus for the Seri esthetic; yet even here the field is practically barren, as is shown by the study of a score of usable and mortuary specimens and of thousands of sherds. The most ornate specimen seen is that depicted in plate XXXII. Its form, like that of the balsa, is a mechanical equation of forces and materials; its body-color is that of the clay, blotched and blackened irregularly by the smoke of the firing; and its decoration is limited to 17 faint lines or bands radiating downward from the ill-shaped neck. The radial bands were evidently drawn by a finger dipped in clayey water after the vessel was otherwise finished for the firing; they are irregular in placement, width, length, and direction; they generally run in pairs, two straight lines alternating with two zigzag lines, though the circuit is completed by two zigzags drawn wide apart and separated by a single straight line. The meaning of the device (if meaning there be) was not directly ascertained; but it is suggestive that its maker and owner was the mother of the youthful warrior from whom the rattlesnake necklace was obtained (her face-symbol is that shown in the lower left figure of plate XXVI), and that the vessel was surrendered more reluctantly than any other article obtained from the tribe.

Among the tools used in the early household of the Seri, the most noticeable and crucial is the olla, or water jar. Its technical details are explained elsewhere, but it’s important to note here that the olla is the central object around which the tribe’s life revolves: since the clans often live and rarely camp 3 to 15 miles from the aguaje, a significant amount of the water they use must be transported over long distances in these vessels. Given the area's extreme dryness, the survival of small groups often relies on the condition of the olla and how carefully the fragile vessel is protected from damage or tipping over. Therefore, this utensil plays a major role in daily thoughts—indeed, its importance is confirmed by customs and its prominent use in mortuary sacrifices. The relationship between the Seri olla and those who make and use it is similar to that of the ever-present clay pot among the Pueblo people, or the cooking basket for California's acorn eaters, though its significance is heightened due to the limited vital connections in Seri life. Furthermore, this distinctive tool is ingrained and revered in Seri culture by time-honored associations: its fragments are scattered across the vast “despoblado” from Tiburon to Caborca, Magdalena, Rio Opodepe, and Cerro Prieto, as well as throughout the 90 feet of shells that make up Punta Antigualla (possibly the oldest shell mound in America); all these shards from the range and the shell layers are noticeably alike yet distinct from any other pottery, making them easy to differentiate at a glance. Thus, it seems clear that the Seri olla forms a typical core for Seri aesthetics; still, even here, the field is nearly barren, as shown by studying many usable and funeral pieces and thousands of shards. The most elaborately designed specimen is the one shown in plate XXXII. Its shape, like that of a balsa, reflects a balance of forces and materials; its body color resembles the clay, irregularly marked and darkened by the smoke from the firing; and its decoration consists of 17 faint lines or bands that radiate downward from the oddly shaped neck. The radial bands were clearly made by a finger dipped in a watery clay after the vessel had been prepared for firing; they vary in placement, width, length, and direction; they typically appear in pairs, with two straight lines alternating with two zigzag lines, and the pattern concludes with two widely spaced zigzags separated by a single straight line. The meaning of this design (if it has one) was not clearly determined; however, it seems significant that its maker and owner was the mother of the young warrior from whom the rattlesnake necklace was obtained (her face symbol is illustrated in the lower left figure of plate XXVI), and that she seemed to part with the vessel more reluctantly than with any other item taken from the tribe.

Another utensil of some importance to the tribe is a basket of the type illustrated in figure 24. It is manufactured with much skill and is used for various domestic purposes, being practically water-tight and unbreakable, and materially lighter than even the unparalleledly light fictile ware of the Seri. In form and size and weave the half dozen examples seen correspond with widespread southwestern types; yet it is noteworthy that while otherwise similar baskets are habitually decorated by other basket-making tribes, the Seri specimens were absolutely devoid of decorative devices.

Another important tool for the tribe is a basket like the one shown in figure 24. It’s made with great skill and used for various household purposes, as it’s practically waterproof, unbreakable, and much lighter than the exceptionally light pottery of the Seri. In terms of shape, size, and weave, the six examples seen match common types found in the southwestern region; however, it’s interesting to note that while similar baskets made by other basket-weaving tribes are typically decorated, the Seri baskets have no decorative designs at all.

Practically the only remaining artifacts available for decoration are those connected with archery; and it suffices to say that while the bows are skilfully made and the arrows constructed with exceeding pains, not a single specimen seen showed the slightest trace of symbolism or of nonutilitarian motive.

Practically the only remaining artifacts for decoration are those related to archery; and it’s worth mentioning that although the bows are expertly crafted and the arrows are made with great care, not a single piece displayed any hint of symbolism or any non-utilitarian purpose.


Summarily, the Seri are characterized by extreme esthetic poverty. This has been noted by the early missionaries and by the few other travelers who have approached their haunts, as well as by the vaqueros on the Encinas and Serna and other ranchos bordering their range, who know them as “los pobrecitos”. All observers have been struck with their destitution and squalor; yet when the impressions are particularized they are seen to denote absence of the poor luxuries, rather than the bare necessities, of primitive life. The people are pathetically poor in the industrial sense; their equipment in artifacts—implements, weapons, utensils, habitations, apparel—is meager almost, if not quite, beyond parallel in America; yet their esthetic equipment, practically 176* limited as it is to a single line of symbolic portrayal, is still more abjectly meager.

In short, the Seri are known for their extreme lack of basic comforts. Early missionaries and a few travelers who encountered them, as well as the cowboys on the Encinas, Serna, and other ranches nearby, refer to them as "los pobrecitos." All observers have been affected by their poverty and poor living conditions; however, when details are examined, it becomes clear that they lack not just the luxuries but also some of the basic comforts of traditional life. The people are sadly poor in industrial terms; their tools, weapons, utensils, homes, and clothing are minimal, almost unmatched in their scarcity across America. However, their artistic expression, which is limited to a single form of symbolic representation, is even more painfully inadequate. 176*

Any comparison of the Seri esthetic with that of other Amerind tribes serves only to emphasize its paucity: the tribes of the plains, with their eagle-feather headdresses, elaborately arranged scalp-locks, widely varied face-painting, and ritualistic camp circles; the Pueblo peoples, with their ornate masks, elaborate altars, figured stuffs, and painted pottery; the denizens of the eastern woods, with their feather-decked peace-pipes, divinatory games, fringe-bordered garments, and prayer-inscribed arrows; the coastwise peoples of the upper Pacific, with their labrets and tattoo-marks, totem-poles and carved house-fronts, painted canoes and prodigal potlatches; the neighboring desert tribes, with their festal footraces, decorated pottery and basketry, pendent scarfs and garters, and well-wrought caskets for family fetishes; even the timid acorn-eaters of California, with their sacramental baskets, artistically befringed kilts, bead-strings of far-traveled nacre, and patiently wrought fabrics of rare feathers—all of these seem rich in esthetic motives when contrasted with “los pobrecitos” of arid Seriland. And the contrast is only intensified when the economic motives of the various tribes are compared: the industrial motives of the Seri are fairly numerous and diverse; they are skilful huntsmen, successful fishermen, capable navigators, and competent warriors (as attested by the protection of their principality for centuries), so that despite the absence of agriculture and the avoidance of commerce, their industrial range is not very far below the aboriginal average; and while they are deficient in thrift, this shortcoming is balanced by a peculiarly developed vital economy whereby they are delicately adjusted to their environment, as has been already shown. On the whole, it would appear that the Seri are not only lower in esthetic development than the contemporary tribes thus far studied, but also that they stand at the bottom of the scale in the ratio of esthetic to industrial motives.

Any comparison of the Seri aesthetic with that of other Native American tribes highlights its scarcity: the tribes of the plains have their eagle-feather headdresses, intricately styled scalp-locks, diverse face-painting, and ritualistic camp circles; the Pueblo peoples feature ornate masks, elaborate altars, patterned textiles, and painted pottery; the people of the eastern woods carry feather-adorned peace-pipes, engage in divinatory games, and wear garments with fringe borders, along with inscribed arrows for prayer; the coastal communities of the upper Pacific sport labrets and tattoos, totem poles and carved house fronts, painted canoes, and generous potlatches; the nearby desert tribes celebrate with festive footraces, decorated pottery and basketry, pendant scarves and garters, and well-crafted boxes for family fetishes; even the modest acorn gatherers of California have their ceremonial baskets, artistically fringed kilts, bead strings made from far-traveled shell, and patiently crafted textiles made from rare feathers—all of these appear rich in aesthetic expression when compared to “los pobrecitos” of dry Seriland. The contrast becomes even sharper when looking at the economic motivations of the various tribes: the industrial pursuits of the Seri are quite numerous and varied; they are skilled hunters, successful fishermen, able navigators, and competent warriors (as evidenced by their protection of their territory for centuries), meaning that despite lacking agriculture and avoiding trade, their industrial range is not significantly below the aboriginal average; and while they may struggle with thrift, this flaw is counterbalanced by a uniquely developed vital economy that allows them to be well-adapted to their environment, as has been previously shown. Overall, it seems that the Seri are not only lower in aesthetic development compared to the contemporary tribes studied so far, but they also rank at the bottom in the ratio of aesthetic to industrial motivations.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF DECORATION

Largely through recent researches among the American aborigines, it has been shown that decorative and many if not all other esthetic concepts normally arise in symbolism, gradually expand in conventionism, and eventually mature in a realism which is itself the source of ever-extending esthetic motives; and the observations on the lowly Seri afford opportunity for somewhat extending the generalizations based on higher tribes.

Largely through recent research among Native Americans, it has been shown that decorative and many, if not all, other aesthetic concepts typically start in symbolism, gradually develop into conventions, and eventually evolve into a realism that itself inspires an ever-growing range of aesthetic ideas; and the observations on the lesser-known Seri provide an opportunity to further broaden the generalizations based on more advanced tribes.

When peoples of unequal cultural development are compared, it is commonly found that the higher are the more independent in action and thought: thus, advanced peoples make conquest of nature for their own behoof, while primitive peoples are largely creatures of environment; Caucasian citizens are self-conscious lawmakers, while Amerind tribesmen are semiconsciously dominated by mysteries fearsomely 177* interpreted by their shamans; and, in general, enlightened men think and speak freely, come and go as they like, and discard the badges of conventionism, while savages are constrained by customs carrying the power of law, controlled by precedent, and clothed in hierarchic regalia. So, too, when a particular series of tribes are compared, it is found that those of higher culture (or wider knowledge) are the more independent, the more given to essays in social and industrial and other lines of activity, and hence the more varied in esthetic and economic motives: thus, the several Iroquoian tribes integrated the knowledge proper to each, and thus made themselves an intellectual and physical power able to eliminate or assimilate the isolated tribes on their borders; the sages of the Siouan stock induced the warriors of their leading tribes to combine in a circle of seven council fires, which grew into the great Dakota confederacy and soon gained strength to dominate the entire northern plains; but while these and other federations were pushing forward on the way leading to feudalism and thence to national organization, the self-centered California tribes consecrated their tongues to their own kindred, thereby stifling culture at its source and virtually leashing themselves unto the acorn-bearing oaks of their respective glades. Still more striking are the differences in independence revealed by a comparison of human and subhuman organisms; for the humans are immeasurably freer and more spontaneous in thought and action than even the highest beasts: thus, the Seri blood-bearer applies, renews, and elaborates her face-mark at will, while the antelope and the raccoon unconsciously develop their standard-marks through the tedious operation of vital processes regulated under the cruel law of survival; men make their beds according to the dictates of judgment, while the half-artificialized dog lies down in accordance with a hereditary custom which has been needless for a hundred generations; and the very essence of human activity is volitional choice (or artificial selection), while the keynote of merely organic agency is the nonvolitional chance of natural selection. No less striking are the differences found on comparing other realms of nature, in which the higher are invariably characterized by the greater independence; the animal realm is distinguished from the vegetal realm mainly by the possession of volitional motility; while the vegetal is distinguished from the mineral realm chiefly by those better selective powers exemplified in vital growth. The several comparisons seem to define that course of volitional development arising in the chemical and mechanical affinities of the mineral realm, burgeoning in simple vitality, multiplying in the motility of animal life, greatly expanding in the collective activity of demotic organization, and culminating in the conquest of nature through the mind-guided powers of enlightened mankind. Expressed briefly, this course of development may be characterized as the progressive passage from automacy to autonomy.

When comparing cultures with different levels of development, it's often seen that those with higher advancement are more independent in their actions and thoughts. Advanced societies control nature for their own benefit, whereas primitive societies are mainly shaped by their environments. For example, Caucasian citizens are self-aware lawmakers, while Native American tribesmen often feel semi-consciously controlled by frightening mysteries interpreted by their shamans. Generally, enlightened individuals think and speak freely, come and go as they please, and reject traditional conventions, while primitive people are restricted by customs that feel as binding as laws, governed by precedents, and adorned in hierarchical symbols. Similarly, when looking at specific groups of tribes, those with higher cultural or knowledge levels tend to be more independent, more inclined to explore social, industrial, and other activities, and consequently more diverse in their aesthetic and economic motivations. For instance, the various Iroquoian tribes combined their knowledge to become a powerful intellectual and physical force capable of eliminating or absorbing isolated tribes around them. The wise individuals of the Siouan tribes encouraged the warriors of their leading clans to join together in a circle of seven council fires, which developed into the great Dakota confederacy, gaining strength to dominate the entire northern plains. However, while these and other federations moved towards feudalism and eventually national organization, the self-focused California tribes dedicated their languages to their own kin, effectively stifling culture at its roots and binding themselves to the acorn-bearing oaks in their respective areas. The differences in independence are even more pronounced when comparing humans to subhuman organisms. Humans are significantly freer and more spontaneous in their thoughts and actions than even the most advanced animals. For example, the Seri woman can change and enhance her facial markings at will, while antelopes and raccoons develop their markings unconsciously through slow biological processes driven by the harsh realities of survival. Humans arrange their living spaces based on judgment, while the semi-domesticated dog lays down according to inherited customs that have become unnecessary for hundreds of generations. The core of human activity revolves around deliberate choice (or artificial selection), whereas the essence of organic processes stems from random natural selection. The distinctions become even clearer in other areas of nature, where higher forms are characterized by greater independence. The animal kingdom is differentiated from the plant kingdom mainly by the ability to move voluntarily, while the plant kingdom is separated from the mineral world primarily by its superior selective growth abilities. These comparisons help outline a developmental trajectory that begins with the basic chemical and mechanical interactions of minerals, progresses into simple life, multiplies in the mobility of animals, massively expands through communal human activities, and culminates in humanity's ability to conquer nature using our mental capabilities. In simple terms, this trajectory can be summarized as the evolution from automacy to autonomy.

The volitional development thus seriated may be divided, somewhat 178* arbitrarily yet none the less safely, into its esthetic and economic factors; and, for convenience, the latter maybe considered to comprise the industrial, institutional, linguistic, and sophic constituents—i. e., the esthetic activities may be juxtaposed against the several other activities of demotic life. When this division is made, it at once becomes manifest that the esthetic activities are the freest and most spontaneous of the series, and hence lead the way to that autonomy which marks the highest development. This significant relation has been glimpsed by various artists and poets, scholars and naturalists; it was at least partly caught by Goethe when he taught that knowledge begins in wonder; it was loosely seized by Schiller, and later by Spencer, in the surplus-energy theory of play; it was grasped by Groos in his prophecy theory of play,264 and still more firmly (although less conspicuously) by Seton-Thompson in his analysis of animal conduct and motives. The relation has for some years been recognized as one of the principles underlying the American ethnologic researches; yet it is not so well understood as to obviate the need for further consideration. Accordingly it may be pointed out that while the human activities and the agencies of lower nature rest alike on a mechanical foundation, the mechanical element diminishes in relative magnitude in passing from the lower to the higher realms of nature: in the mineral realm the agencies may be deemed mechanical in character and individual in effect; in the vegetal realm vitality is superadded, and the effects are carried forward through heredity; in the animal realm motility is added in turn, and instinct arises to shape the individual and hereditary and motile attributes; the social realm may be considered to be marked by the accession of conjustment, with its multifarious and beneficent effects on individuals, generations, movements, and groups; while the rational realm maybe defined as that arising with the accession of reason as a guide to action, and with the development of nature-conquest as its most characteristic effect—though it is to be noted that the several transitions are progressive rather than saltatory. Thus each realm is characterized by the attributes of each and all of those lower in the scale, plus its own distinctive attribute. It may also be pointed out that each new attribute defining a higher realm is freer and more spontaneous than those of lower realms; for vitality is freer than mere affinity, self-movement than mere growth, and cooperation than mere movement, while reason-led action is freest of all. Accordingly each realm (as already implied) is characterized by a larger autonomy than any of those lower in the scale; i. e., by all the factors of autonomy in the lower realms, plus its own distinctive factor.

The development of will can be divided, somewhat arbitrarily yet safely, into its aesthetic and economic aspects; for convenience, the latter can be seen to include the industrial, institutional, linguistic, and intellectual components—meaning the aesthetic activities can be contrasted with the other activities of everyday life. When this division is made, it quickly becomes clear that the aesthetic activities are the most free and spontaneous in the series, leading the way to the autonomy that represents the highest development. This important connection has been recognized by various artists and poets, scholars and naturalists; it was at least partially understood by Goethe when he said that knowledge begins with wonder; it was loosely captured by Schiller and later by Spencer in the surplus-energy theory of play; it was identified by Groos in his theory of play, and even more firmly (though less obviously) by Seton-Thompson in his analysis of animal behavior and motives. This relationship has been acknowledged for some years as one of the principles underpinning American ethnological studies; yet it isn't well understood enough to eliminate the need for further exploration. It can be noted that while human activities and the forces of lower nature both have a mechanical basis, the mechanical element decreases in relative importance as we move from the lower to the higher realms of nature: in the mineral realm, the forces can be seen as mechanical and individual; in the plant realm, life is added, and effects are passed down through heredity; in the animal realm, mobility is added, and instinct shapes both individual and hereditary attributes; the social realm is characterized by the addition of social interaction, which has various positive effects on individuals, generations, movements, and groups; while the rational realm is defined by the emergence of reason as a guide for action and the development of nature-conquest as its most notable effect—though it's important to note that the transitions are gradual rather than sudden. Thus, each realm is marked by the attributes of all those below it, plus its own unique attribute. It can also be pointed out that each new attribute defining a higher realm is freer and more spontaneous than those of the lower realms; for life is freer than mere connection, self-motion is freer than mere growth, and cooperation is freer than mere movement, while action guided by reason is the freest of all. Consequently, each realm (as previously implied) showcases a greater degree of autonomy than any of those lower in the hierarchy; that is, it includes all the factors of autonomy from the lower realms, plus its unique factor.

It may be pointed out farther that, in the higher realms at least, the action normal to each realm tends to generate that characteristic of the next higher realm: the self-movement of the animal realm is, under favorable conditions, constrained through vital economy to fall 179* into the conjustment of the social realm; and the organization of the social realm, involving as it does a hierarchic arrangement of organisms according to mentality,265 habituates the higher individuals of the organizations to that control of lower individuals which buds in agriculture, blossoms in civil rule, and fruits in nature-conquest. Thus the factors of each realm are prophetic of the distinctive factor of the next higher—and the prophecy is not merely passive, but is, rather, an actual step in causal sequence.

It can be further noted that, at least in the higher realms, the actions typical of each realm tend to produce the defining characteristic of the next higher realm: the self-movement of the animal realm is, under favorable conditions, limited by vital economy to align with the social realm; and the structure of the social realm, which includes a hierarchical arrangement of organisms based on mentality, conditions the higher individuals of the organizations to exert control over the lower individuals, starting with agriculture, developing into civil governance, and leading to the domination of nature. Thus, the elements of each realm are indicative of the unique feature of the next higher realm—and this indication isn't just passive; it is, in fact, an actual step in the causal process.

It may be pointed out still further that, in the higher realms at least, spontaneous action necessarily precedes maturely developed function: in the vegetal realm the tree shoots upward before its form is shaped and its tissue textured by wind and sun and environing organisms; in the animal realm youthful play presages the prosaic performances normal to adult life; in the social realm men behave before framing laws of behavior; and in the rational realm fortuitous discovery paves the road for sure-footed invention. Thus natural initiative arises in spontaneous action, while mechanical action is mainly consequential.

It can be noted that, especially in higher domains, spontaneous action always comes before well-developed function: in the plant world, a tree grows upward before its shape is defined and its tissue is refined by wind, sunlight, and surrounding organisms; in the animal world, youthful play anticipates the routine actions typical of adult life; in the social world, people act before establishing rules of conduct; and in the intellectual realm, random discoveries lead to reliable inventions. Therefore, natural initiative stems from spontaneous action, whereas mechanical action is mostly a result of previous actions.

It may be pointed out finally that the field of spontaneous action is relatively increased with the endless multiplications of action accompanying the passage from the lower realms to the higher—indeed the relations may be likened unto those of exogenous growth, which is largely withdrawn from the irresponsive and stable interior structures and gathered into the responsive and spontaneously active peripheral structures; so that spontaneous activity attending natural development is relatively more important in the higher stages than in the lower.266

It can be noted finally that the area of spontaneous action increases with the endless multiplication of actions that happen as one moves from lower levels to higher ones—indeed, the relationships can be compared to those of external growth, which is mostly separate from the unresponsive and stable inner structures and concentrated in the responsive and spontaneously active outer structures; thus, spontaneous activity during natural development is relatively more significant in the higher stages than in the lower.266

Now, on combining the several indications it is found clear (1) that the more spontaneous developmental factor in all normal growth corresponds with the esthetic factor in demotic activity; (2) that this is the initiatory factor and the chief determinant of the rate and course of development; (3) that it is of relatively enlarged prominence in the higher stages; and hence (4) that the esthetic activities afford a means of measuring developmental status or the relative positions in terms of development of races and tribes.

Now, when we combine the various indications, it's clear that (1) the more natural factor in all normal growth aligns with the aesthetic factor in everyday activities; (2) this is the starting point and the main determinant of the pace and direction of development; (3) it stands out even more in the higher stages; and therefore (4) aesthetic activities provide a way to gauge developmental status or the relative positions of races and tribes in terms of development.


On applying these principles to the Seri tribe, in the light of their meager industrial motives and still poorer esthetic motives, it would appear that they stand well at the bottom of the scale in demotic development. Their somatic characteristics are suggestively primitive, as already shown; and the testimony of these characteristics is fully corroborated by that of their esthetic status as interpreted in the light of the laws of growth. 180*

On applying these principles to the Seri tribe, considering their limited industrial goals and even weaker aesthetic values, it seems that they rank low on the scale of cultural development. Their physical traits are notably primitive, as previously indicated; and the evidence from these traits is thoroughly supported by their aesthetic status as understood through the principles of growth. 180 degrees

Industries and Industrial Goods

The pacific vocations of the Seri are few. They are totally without agriculture, and even devoid of agricultural sense, though they consume certain fruits and seeds in season; they are without domestic animals, though they live in cotoleration with half-wild dogs, and perhaps with pelicans; and they are without commerce, save that primitive and inimical interchange commonly classed as pillage and robbery. Accordingly, their pacific industries are limited to those connected with (1) sustentation, chiefly by means of fishing and the chase; (2) navigation and carrying, (3) house-building, (4) appareling, and (5) manufacturing their simple implements and utensils; and these constructive industries are balanced and conditioned by the destructive avocation of (6) nearly continuous warfare.

The peaceful activities of the Seri are limited. They don't practice agriculture at all and lack any agricultural knowledge, although they do eat some fruits and seeds in season. They don’t have domestic animals, but cohabitate with semi-wild dogs, and maybe pelicans; they also lack trade, except for a primitive and hostile exchange that can be seen as looting and stealing. Thus, their peaceful industries are restricted to (1) sustenance, mainly through fishing and hunting; (2) navigation and transport; (3) building houses; (4) making clothing; and (5) crafting simple tools and utensils. These constructive activities are overshadowed and impacted by the destructive pursuit of (6) nearly constant warfare.

FOOD AND FOOD-GETTING

The primary resource of Seriland is raised to the first place in realized importance only by its rarity, viz., potable water—a commodity so abundant in most regions as to divert conscious attention from its paramount role in physiologic function as well as in industrial economy. The overwhelming importance of this food-source is worthy of closer attention than it usually receives. Classed by function, human foods are (1) nutrients, including animal and vegetal substances which are largely assimilated and absorbed into the system; (2) assimilants, including condiments, etc., which promote alimentation and apparently aid metabolism; (3) paratriptics, or waste preventers, including alcohol and other stimulants, which in some little-understood way retard the waste of tissue and consequent dissipation of vital energy; and (4) diluents, which modify the consistency of solid foods and thereby facilitate assimilation, besides maintaining the water of the system. Classed by chemic constitution, the foods may be divided into (1) proteids, or nitrogenous substances, including the more complex animal and vegetal compounds; (2) fats, or nonnitrogenous substances in which the ratio of hydrogen and oxygen is unlike that of water, and which are second in complexity among animal and vegetal compounds; (3) carbohydrates, or nonnitrogenous compounds of carbon with hydrogen and oxygen in the proportions required to form water, which are among the simpler vegetal and animal compounds; and (4) minerals, chiefly water, with relatively minute quantities of various salts. Both classifications are somewhat indefinite, largely because most articles of food combine two or more of the classes; yet they are useful in that they indicate the high place of the simple mineral water among food substances. Quantitatively this constituent stands far in the lead among foods; the human adult consumes a daily mean of about 4½ pounds of simple liquids and 2½ pounds of nominally solid, but actually more than half watery, food; so that the 181* average man daily ingests nearly 6 pounds of water and but little over 1 pound of actually solid nutrients. Thus the ratio of the consumption of liquid food to that of solids is (naturally, in view of that readier elimination of the liquid constituent so characteristic especially of arid regions) somewhat larger than the ratio of water to solids in the human system, the ratios being nearly 6:1 and 4:1, respectively.267 This analysis serves measurably to explain the peculiarly developed water-sense of all desert peoples, a sense finding expression in the first tenets of faith among the Pueblos, in the fundamental law of the Papago, and in the strongest instinct of the Seri; for among folk habituated to thirst through terrible (albeit occasional) experience, water is the central nucleus of thought about which all other ideas revolve in appropriate orbits—it is an ultimate standard of things incomparably more stable and exalted than the gold of civilized commerce, the constantly remembered basis of life itself.

The main resource of Seriland is elevated to the top spot in terms of importance mainly because of its scarcity: potable water—a resource so plentiful in many areas that it often goes unnoticed, despite its crucial role in both bodily function and industrial economy. The immense significance of this resource deserves more attention than it typically receives. Foods for humans can be categorized by function into: (1) nutrients, which include animal and plant substances that are mostly absorbed by the body; (2) assimilants, such as condiments, which aid in digestion and seemingly assist metabolism; (3) paratriptics, or waste preventers, including alcohol and other stimulants that, in some unclear way, slow the waste of tissue and loss of vital energy; and (4) diluents, which adjust the consistency of solid foods to help with digestion while also maintaining the body’s water levels. When classified by chemical makeup, foods can be divided into: (1) proteins, or nitrogenous substances, consisting of more complex animal and plant compounds; (2) fats, or non-nitrogenous substances with a different hydrogen to oxygen ratio than water, which are the second most complex among animal and plant compounds; (3) carbohydrates, or non-nitrogenous compounds made of carbon mixed with hydrogen and oxygen in the proportions needed to create water, which are among the simpler plant and animal compounds; and (4) minerals, mainly water, with smaller amounts of various salts. Both classifications are somewhat vague, largely because most food items combine two or more categories; yet, they help highlight the significant role of simple mineral water among food substances. In terms of quantity, this component leads far above others; the average adult consumes about 4.5 pounds of liquids daily and 2.5 pounds of what is labeled as solid food, though more than half of that is actually water. Thus, the average person ingests nearly 6 pounds of water and just over 1 pound of solid nutrients each day. As a result, the ratio of liquid consumption to solid intake is somewhat larger than the ratio of water to solids in the human body, with ratios close to 6:1 and 4:1, respectively. This analysis helps explain the highly developed water sensitivity of all desert peoples, a trait expressed in the foundational beliefs of the Pueblos, the core laws of the Papago, and the strongest instinct of the Seri; for those accustomed to thirst from harsh, albeit occasional, experiences, water becomes the central focus of thought, around which all other ideas orbit—it is a final benchmark that is incomparably more stable and valued than the gold of civilized trade, consistently recalled as the basis of life itself.

The potable water of Seriland is scanty in the extreme. The aggregate daily quantity available during ten months of the average year (excluding the eight wettest weeks of the two moist seasons) can hardly exceed 0.1 or 0.2 of a second-foot, or 60,000 to 125,000 gallons per day, of living water, i. e., less than the mean supply for each thousand residents of a modern city, or about that consumed in a single hotel or apartment house. Probably two-thirds of this meager supply is confined to a single rivulet (Arroyo Carrizal) in the interior of Tiburon, far from the food-yielding coasts, while the remainder is distributed over the 1,500 square miles of Seriland in a few widely separated aguajes, of which only two or three can be considered permanent; and this normal supply is supplemented by the brackish seepage in storm-cut runnels, as at Barranca Salina, or in shallow wells, as at Pozo Escalante and Pozo Hardy, which is fairly fresh and abundant for a few weeks after each moist season, but bitterly briny if not entirely gone before the beginning of the next. The scanty aggregate serves not only for the human but for the bestial residents of the Seri principality; and its distribution is such that the mean distance to the nearest aguaje throughout the entire region is 8 or 10 miles, while the extreme distances are thrice greater.

The drinkable water in Seriland is extremely limited. The total daily amount available for ten months of the year (excluding the eight rainiest weeks of the two wet seasons) barely reaches 0.1 or 0.2 of a second-foot, which translates to about 60,000 to 125,000 gallons per day of usable water, meaning it's less than the average supply for every thousand residents in a modern city, or roughly what a single hotel or apartment building consumes. Likely, two-thirds of this meager supply comes from just one stream (Arroyo Carrizal) in the interior of Tiburon, far from the food-producing coasts, while the rest is spread across the 1,500 square miles of Seriland in a few widely scattered aguajes, of which only two or three can be deemed permanent. This normal supply is bolstered by salty seepage from storm-cut channels, like at Barranca Salina, or from shallow wells, such as Pozo Escalante and Pozo Hardy, which are relatively fresh and plentiful for a few weeks after each rainy season but become extremely salty if not completely depleted by the start of the next one. The limited overall supply is used not only by the human inhabitants but also by the animal residents of the Seri principality; and the way it's distributed means that, on average, the nearest aguaje is 8 to 10 miles away throughout the entire region, with the farthest distances being three times greater.

The paucity of potable water and the remoteness of its sources naturally affect the habits of the folk; and the effect is intensified by a curious custom, not fully understood, though doubtless connected with militant instincts fixed (like the habits of primitive men generally) by abounding faith and persistent ritualistic practice—i. e., the avoidance of living waters in selecting sites for habitations or even temporary camps. Thus the principal rancherias on Tiburon island, about Rada Ballena, are some 4 miles from Tinaja Anita, the nearest aguaje; the 182* extensive rancherias near Punta Narragansett measure 10 miles by trail from the same aguaje; the half dozen jacales about Campo Navidad are separated by some 15 miles of stony and hilly pathway from the alternative watering places of Tinaja Anita and Arroyo Carrizal;268 and the huts crowning the great shell-heap of Punta Antigualla—one of the most striking records of immemorial occupancy in America—are nearly or quite 10 miles by trail from Pozo Escalante, and still further from Aguaje Parilla, the nearest sources of potable water. These are but typical instances; and while there are ruined huts (evidently regarded as temporales) near the dead waters of Barranca Salina and Pozo Escalante, they tell the tribal policy of locating habitations in places surprisingly remote from running water. Like other desert folk, the Seri have learned to economize in water-carrying by swigging incredible quantities on their occasional visits to the aguajes; it is probable, too, that their systems are inured, somewhat as are those of the desert animals that survive deprivation of water for days or months, to prolonged abstinence from liquid food; yet it seems safe to assume that at least half of the water required in their vital economy (say 2 or 3 pounds apiece daily, on an average) is consumed after transportation over distances ordinarily ranging from 4 to 12 miles. Under these conditions the Seri have naturally produced a highly developed water industry; they are essentially and primarily water-carriers, and all their other industries are subordinated to this function.

The lack of drinkable water and the distance from its sources clearly influence the habits of the people. This effect is heightened by a strange custom that isn’t fully understood, but is likely tied to combative instincts ingrained (like the habits of primitive humans in general) through strong beliefs and repetitive rituals—specifically, the practice of avoiding flowing water when choosing places to live or even set up temporary camps. For example, the main settlements on Tiburon Island near Rada Ballena are about 4 miles from Tinaja Anita, the closest water source; the large settlements near Punta Narragansett are 10 miles away by trail from the same water source; the half dozen huts near Campo Navidad are separated by roughly 15 miles of rocky and hilly trails from the alternative water sources at Tinaja Anita and Arroyo Carrizal; and the huts atop the large shell mound at Punta Antigualla—one of the most impressive signs of ancient human presence in America—are nearly 10 miles by trail from Pozo Escalante, and even farther from Aguaje Parilla, the nearest sources of drinking water. These are just typical examples, and while there are abandoned huts (clearly seen as temporary) near the stagnant waters of Barranca Salina and Pozo Escalante, they reflect the tribal strategy of placing homes surprisingly far from running water. Like other desert-dwelling people, the Seri have learned to conserve water by consuming large amounts during their occasional visits to water sources; it’s likely that their bodies have adapted, somewhat like desert animals that can go for days or even months without water, to long periods without liquid intake. Still, it is reasonable to assume that at least half of the water they need (about 2 or 3 pounds each day, on average) is consumed after being carried over distances typically ranging from 4 to 12 miles. Given these conditions, the Seri have developed a highly specialized water industry; they are primarily water carriers, and all their other activities are secondary to this essential role.

Concordantly with their customs, the Seri have a highly differentiated aquarian device in the form of a distinctive type of olla, which is remarkable for the thinness and fragility of the ware, i. e., for largeness of capacity in proportion to weight. Representative specimens are illustrated in plates XXXII and XXXIII (the former painted, as already described). The dimensions of the two vessels are as follows: painted olla, height 34 cm. (13⅜ inches), mean diameter 32.5 cm. (12¾ inches); plain olla, height 32 cm. (12⅝ inches), mean diameter 32 cm. In both specimens the walls are slightly thickened at the brim, those of the painted vessel measuring about 4 mm. and those of the plain vessel about 4.5 to 5 mm. in thickness. Below the brim the walls are thinned to about 3 mm., as is shown in the fractured neck of the painted specimen. The capacity of these Seri vessels in proportion to their weight, compared with that of typical examples of ware produced by other desert peoples, is shown in the accompanying table.

In line with their traditions, the Seri have a uniquely designed water container shaped like a special type of olla, notable for its thinness and fragility, meaning it has a large capacity relative to its weight. You can see representative examples in plates XXXII and XXXIII (the first one is painted, as previously mentioned). The measurements for the two vessels are as follows: the painted olla has a height of 34 cm (13⅜ inches) and an average diameter of 32.5 cm (12¾ inches); the unpainted olla stands at 32 cm (12⅝ inches) tall and has an average diameter of 32 cm. In both examples, the walls are slightly thicker at the rim, with the painted vessel measuring about 4 mm thick and the plain vessel around 4.5 to 5 mm. Below the rim, the walls are tapered to about 3 mm, as seen in the broken neck of the painted vessel. The capacity of these Seri vessels relative to their weight, compared to typical examples from other desert cultures, is displayed in the accompanying table.

Comparison of the mean ratios indicates that the Seri ware is almost exactly twice as economical as that of the Pueblos—i. e., that its capacity is twice as great in proportion to the weight of the vessel; and that 183* even the ware of the wide-wandering Papago is more extravagant than that of the Seri in the ratio of 100 to 54. It is noteworthy, too, that the typical Seri ware is much more uniform than that of the other tribes; the various specimens seen in use at Costa Rica, and nearly entire in various parts of Seriland, were closely similar in form and nearly alike in dimensions; while the innumerable smaller fragments scattered over Seriland and the neighboring “despoblado” or buried amid the shells of Punta Antigualla correspond precisely in thickness, in curvature, in material, and in finish with the ware observed in use.

Comparison of the average ratios shows that Seri ware is nearly twice as economical as that of the Pueblos—in other words, its capacity is twice as great relative to the weight of the vessel. Additionally, the ware from the widely roaming Papago is actually more wasteful than that of the Seri, at a ratio of 100 to 54. It’s also important to note that typical Seri ware is much more consistent than that of the other tribes; the different pieces seen in use at Costa Rica, as well as nearly complete specimens found throughout Seriland, were very similar in shape and nearly identical in size. Meanwhile, the countless smaller fragments scattered across Seriland and the nearby “despoblado” or buried among the shells of Punta Antigualla match perfectly in thickness, curvature, material, and finish with the ware seen in use.

Ratio of capacity to weight among Indian ollas269

Capacity Weight Ratio Mean ratio
Seri: Liters Kilograms
Plain 15.14 1.91 0.126 0.137
Painted 15.61 2.30 .147
Papago:
No. 1 17.03 4.08 .239 .253
No. 2 8.51 2.38 .279
Sia 15.14 3.82 .252 .271
Zuñi 12.30 3.18 .258
Acoma 15.61 4.31 .276
Hopi 13.72 4.06 .295

Neither the manufacture of the ware nor the sources of material have been observed by Caucasians. Examination of the specimens indicates that the material is a fine and somewhat micaceous clay, apparently an adobe derived from granitoid rocks; and such material might be obtained in various parts of Seriland. The structure of the ware reveals no trace of coiling or other building process, nor does the texture clearly attest the beating process employed by the Papago potters; but there is a well-defined lamellar structure, and the surfaces (especially inner) are striated circumferentially or spirally in such manner as to suggest a process of rubbing under considerable pressure. All the specimens are so asymmetric as to indicate the absence of mechanical devices approaching the potter’s wheel, while the necks are of such size as to admit the hand and forearm of an adult female but not of a warrior. Some suggestion of the manufacturing process is afforded by miniature fetishistic and mortuary specimens, such as those depicted in figures 17 and 18, and the larger specimens shown in figure 39, which were evidently shaped from lumps of suitable clay first hollowed and then gradually expanded by manipulation with the fingers, with little if any aid from implements of any sort. On putting the various indications 184* together it would seem probable that the ware is made by the women, and that each piece is shaped from a lump of tempered and well-kneaded clay of suitable size, first hollowed and rudely shaped over one hand, and gradually expanded by spiral rubbing, kneading, and pressure between the hands of the maker. The burning is incomplete and variable, suggesting a little outdoor fire in a shallow pit adapted to a single vessel. The ware is without glaze or slip or other surficial treatment save that the lamellar texture is best developed toward the surfaces; hence it is so porous that the filled vessel is moist even in the sun.

Neither the making of the pottery nor the sources of the materials have been noted by Caucasians. An examination of the samples shows that the material is a fine and somewhat flaky clay, likely an adobe derived from granite rocks; this type of clay could be found in various parts of Seriland. The structure of the pottery shows no signs of coiling or other building techniques, and the texture doesn't clearly indicate the beating process used by the Papago potters; however, there is a well-defined layered structure, and the surfaces (especially the inner ones) are marked with circular or spiral striations, suggesting a method of rubbing under significant pressure. All the samples are so uneven that it hints at the absence of mechanical tools like a potter’s wheel, while the necks are sized to fit the hand and forearm of an adult woman but not a warrior. Some hints of the manufacturing process come from small fetish and burial artifacts, like those shown in figures 17 and 18, and the larger pieces in figure 39, which were clearly shaped from lumps of suitable clay that were first hollowed out and then gradually expanded by hand manipulation, with little or no help from tools. Putting all the clues together, it seems likely that the pottery is made by women, with each piece shaped from a lump of well-kneaded clay of suitable size that is first hollowed and roughly formed over one hand, then gradually expanded by spiral rubbing, kneading, and pressure between the maker's hands. The firing is incomplete and inconsistent, suggesting a small outdoor fire in a shallow pit meant for a single vessel. The pottery does not have glaze or slip or any other surface treatment, except that the layered texture is best developed toward the surfaces; as a result, it is so porous that a filled vessel remains damp even in the sun.

Fig. 15—Seri olla ring.

Fig. 15—Seri olla ring.

Ordinarily women are the water-bearers, each carrying an olla balanced on the head with the aid of a slightly elastic annular cushion, usually fashioned of yucca fiber (plate XXXII and figure 15), though in some cases two ollas are slung in nets at the ends of a yoke (figure 16) after the Chinese coolie fashion (this device being apparently accultural).

Ordinarily, women are the ones who carry water, each balancing a clay pot on their head with the help of a slightly flexible ring cushion, usually made from yucca fiber (plate XXXII and figure 15). In some cases, two pots are carried in nets at the ends of a yoke (figure 16), similar to the method used by Chinese coolies, which seems to be an adopted practice.

Fig. 16—Water-bearer’s yoke.

Fig. 16—Water-bearer's yoke.

The function of the conventional Seri olla is exclusively that of a canteen or water-carrying vessel, and its form is suited to no other use; while its lines, like its thinness of wall, are adapted to the stresses of internal and external pressure in such wise as to give maximum strength with minimum weight. It is by reason of this remarkably delicate adaptation of materials to purposes that the plain olla figured in plate XXXIII, weighing an ounce or two more than 10 pounds in dry air, holds and safely carries three and one-third times its weight of water. When such ollas are broken, the larger pieces may be used as cups or 185* dishes, or even as kettles, in the rare culinary operations of the tribe (as shown in plate X); but the entire vessels appear to be religiously devoted to their primary purpose.

The traditional Seri olla is designed solely as a canteen or water-carrying vessel, and its shape is suited for no other use. Its lines and thin walls are engineered to handle internal and external pressures effectively, providing maximum strength with minimal weight. Thanks to this careful design of materials for specific purposes, the simple olla shown in plate XXXIII, which weighs just over 10 pounds in dry air, can hold and carry three and a third times its weight in water. When these ollas break, the larger pieces can be repurposed as cups, dishes, or even kettles for the rare cooking tasks of the tribe (as illustrated in plate X); however, the complete vessels seem to be dedicated entirely to their original function.

Fig. 17—Symbolic mortuary olla.

Fig. 17—Symbolic burial pot.

While some three-fourths of the observed fictile ware of the Seri and a still larger proportion of the scattered sherds represent conventional ollas, there are a few erratic forms. The most conspicuous of these is a smaller, thicker-walled, and larger-necked type, of which three or four examples were observed; two of these were in use (one is represented lying at the left of the jacal in plate X), and another was found cracked and abandoned on the desert east of Playa Noriega. The vessels of this type are used primarily as kettles and only incidentally as canteens. In both form and function they suggest accultural origin; but the ware is much like that of the conventional type. Another erratic type takes the form of a deep dish or shallow bowl, of rather thick walls and clumsy form, which may be accultural; a single example was observed in use (it is shown in plate XIV). There are also mortuary forms, including a miniature olla (figure 39) and bowl (figure 41), and such still smaller examples as those illustrated in figures 17 and 18. In addition to the utensils a few fictile figurines were found. Most of these were crude or distorted animal effigies, and one (broken) was a rudely shaped and strongly caricatured female figure some 2 inches high, with exaggerated breasts and pudenda. Analogy with neighboring tribes suggests that the very small vessels and the figurines are fetishistic appurtenances to the manufacture of the pottery; e. g., that the fetish is molded at the same time and from the same material as the olla, and is then burned with it, theoretically as an invocation against cracking or other injury, but practically as a “draw-piece” for testing the progress of the firing.

While about three-quarters of the observed pottery from the Seri and an even higher percentage of the scattered shards are regular ollas, there are some unusual forms. The most noticeable of these is a smaller, thicker-walled, and larger-necked type, of which three or four examples were seen; two of these were in use (one is shown lying to the left of the jacal in plate X), and another was found cracked and abandoned in the desert east of Playa Noriega. These vessels are mainly used as kettles and occasionally as canteens. In both shape and purpose, they suggest an influence from other cultures; however, the pottery is very similar to the conventional type. Another unusual type appears as a deep dish or shallow bowl with rather thick walls and a clumsy shape, which may also be influenced by outside cultures; a single example was seen in use (it is shown in plate XIV). There are also burial forms, including a miniature olla (figure 39) and bowl (figure 41), along with smaller examples illustrated in figures 17 and 18. In addition to the utensils, a few pottery figurines were discovered. Most of these were crude or distorted animal figures, and one (broken) was a roughly shaped and exaggerated female figure about 2 inches tall, featuring prominent breasts and genitalia. Comparisons with nearby tribes suggest that the very small vessels and the figurines are associated with the creation of pottery; for instance, the figurine might be molded at the same time and from the same material as the olla, and then fired together, theoretically as a protection against cracking or damage, but practically as a "draw-piece" to check the progress of the firing.

Fig. 18—Symbolic mortuary dish.

Fig. 18—Ceremonial burial dish.

By far the most numerous of the utensils connected with potable water are drinking-cups and small bowls or dishes; but these are merely molluscan shells of convenient size, picked up alongshore, used once or oftener, and either discarded or carried habitually without other treatment than the natural wear of use (an example is illustrated in figure 19). Larger bowls or trays are improvised from entire carapaces of the tortoise (probably Gopherus agassizii), which are carried considerable distances; and still larger emergency water-vessels consist of carapaces of the green turtle (Chelonia agassizii), 186* laid inverted in the jacales; these shells also being used in natural condition. No wrought shells, molluscan or chelonian, were observed in use or found either in the jacales or on the hundreds of abandoned sites; but the vicinage of the rancherias, the abandoned camps and house sites, and the more frequented paths are bestrewn with slightly worn shells, evidently used for a time and then lost or discarded. The relative abundance of the fictile ware and this natural shell ware in actual use is about 1:3; i. e., each adult female usually possesses a single olla of the conventional type, and there may be one or two extra ollas and two or three clay dishes in each band or clan, while each matron or marriageable maid is usually supplied with two to four shell-cups and each little girl with one or two; and there are twice as many carapace trays as clay dishes. The disproportion of pottery and shell about the abandoned sites is naturally much greater; for the former is the most highly prized industrial possession of the women, while the shells are easily gained and lightly lost.

The most common utensils used for drinking water are cups and small bowls or dishes, which are often just mollusk shells of a convenient size that are picked up along the shore. They are used once or multiple times and either tossed aside or carried around with little more treatment than the natural wear from use (as shown in figure 19). Larger bowls or trays are made from entire tortoise shells (likely Gopherus agassizii), which are transported over considerable distances. Even larger emergency water containers are made from the shells of green turtles (Chelonia agassizii), placed upside down in jacales; these shells are also used in their natural state. No crafted shells, whether molluscan or chelonian, were found in use or discovered in jacales or on the many abandoned sites. However, around the rancherias, abandoned camps, house sites, and frequently traveled paths, there are numerous slightly worn shells that were clearly used for a time and then either lost or discarded. The relative abundance of pottery and natural shell ware in use is approximately 1:3; each adult female typically has one olla of the standard type and may have one or two extra ollas and two or three clay dishes in each group or clan. Each matron or single woman generally has two to four shell cups, and each little girl has one or two. Additionally, there are twice as many tortoise shell trays as there are clay dishes. The disparity of pottery and shells at the abandoned sites is much greater, as pottery is the most valued industrial possession of the women, whereas shells are easily obtained and often lost.

Fig. 19—Shell-cup.

Fig. 19—Shell cup.


With respect to solid food the Seri may be deemed omnivorous though their adjustment to habitat is such that they are practically carnivorous.

Regarding solid food, the Seri can be considered omnivorous, although their adaptation to their environment is such that they are essentially carnivorous.

The most conspicuous single article in the dietary of the tribe is the local green turtle. This chelonian is remarkably abundant throughout Gulf of California; but its optimum habitat and breeding-place would appear to be El Infiernillo, whose sandy beaches are probably better adapted to egg laying and hatching than any other part of the coast. Here it has been followed by the Seri; perhaps half of the aggregate life of the tribe is spent within easy reach of its feeding and breeding grounds, and tribesman and turtle have entered into an inimical commonalty 187 something like that of Siouan Indian and buffalo in olden time, whereby both may benefit and whereby the more intelligent communal certainly profits greatly. The flesh of the turtle yields food; some of its bones yield implements; its carapace yields a house covering, a convenient substitute for umbrella or dog-tent, a temporary buckler, and an emergency tray or cistern, as well as a comfortable cradle at the beginning of life and the conventional coffin at its end; while the only native foot-gear known is a sandal made from the integument of a turtle-flipper.

The most noticeable food item for the tribe is the local green turtle. This creature is incredibly plentiful throughout the Gulf of California, but its ideal habitat and breeding ground seems to be El Infiernillo, where the sandy beaches are likely the best for laying and hatching eggs compared to any other part of the coast. The Seri tribe has lived here; probably half of their existence revolves around the easy access to the turtle's feeding and breeding areas, and both the tribe members and turtles share a kind of adversarial relationship similar to that of the Siouan Indians and buffalo in the past, allowing both to benefit, especially the more clever members of the community. The turtle's meat provides food; some of its bones are made into tools; its shell can be used as a covering for homes, a handy alternative to an umbrella or dog-tent, a temporary shield, and a backup tray or water container, as well as a cozy cradle at the start of life and a traditional coffin at the end; the only native footwear known is a sandal made from the skin of a turtle’s flipper.

Fig. 20—Turtle-harpoon.

Fig. 20—Turtle harpoon.

Doubtless the eggs and newly hatched young of the turtle are eaten, and analogy with other peoples indicates that the females are sometimes captured at the laying grounds or on their way back to water; but observation is limited to the taking of the adult animal at sea by means of a specialized harpoon. A typical specimen of this apparatus, as constructed since the introduction of flotsam iron, is illustrated in figure 20. It comprises a point 3 or 4 inches long, made from a nail or bit of stout wire, rudely sharpened by hammering the tip (cold) between cobbles, and dislodging the loosened scales and splinters by thrusts and twirlings in the ground; this is set firmly and cemented with mesquite gum into a foreshaft of hard wood, usually 4 or 5 inches long, notched to receive a cord and rounded at the proximal end; the rounded end of this foreshaft fits into a socket of the main shaft, which may be either a cane-stalk (as shown in the figure) or a section of mesquite root; while a stout cord is firmly knotted about the foreshaft and either attached to the distal portion of the main shaft or carried along it to the hand of the user. The main shaft is usually 10 or 12 feet long, with the harpoon socket in the larger end, and is manipulated by a fisherman sitting or standing on his balsa. On catching sight of a turtle lying in the water, he approaches stealthily, preferably from the rear yet in such wise as not to cast a frightening shadow, sets the foreshaft in place, guides the point close to the carapace, and then by a quick thrust drives the metal through the shell. The frictional resistance between the chitin and the metal holds the point in place, and although the foreshaft is jerked out at the first movement of the transfixed animal the cord prevents escape; and after partial tiring 188* the turtle is either drowned or driven ashore, or else lifted on the craft.270 Immediately on landing the quarry, the plastron is broken loose by blows of the hupf271 and torn off by vigorous wrenches of the warriors and their strong-taloned spouses in the impetuous fury of a fierce blood-craze like that of carnivorous beasts; the blood and entrails and all soft parts are at once devoured, and the firmer flesh follows at a rate depending on the antecedent hunger, both men and women crushing integument and tendon and bone with the hupf, tearing other tissues with teeth and nails, mouthing shreds from the shells, and gorging the whole ravenously if well ahungered, but stopping to singe and smoke or even half roast the larger pieces if nearer satiety. If the quarry is too large for immediate consumption and not too far from a rancheria the remnants (including head and flippers and shells) are hoisted to the top of the jacal immediately over the open end—the conventional Seri larder—to soften in the sun for hours or days; and on these tough and gamey tidbits the home-stayers, especially the youths, chew luxuriously whenever other occupations fail. In times of plenty, such sun-ripened fragments of reeking feasts are rather generally appropriated first to the children and afterward to the coyote-dogs; and it is a favorite pastime of the toddlers to gather about an inverted carapace on hands and knees, crowding their heads into its noisome depths, displacing the rare scavenger beetles and blowflies of this arid province, mumbling at the cartilaginous processes, and sucking and swallowing again and again the tendonous strings from the muscular attachments, until, overcome by fulness and rank effluvias, they fall asleep with their heads in the trough—to be stealthily nudged aside by the cringing curs attached to the rancheria. Commonly 189* the carapace and the longer bones from the flippers of the larger specimens are preserved entire for other uses, and are cleaned only by teeth and talons and tongues, aided by time but not by fire; but the plastron, unless broken up and consumed immediately, is subjected to a cooking process in which it serves at once as skillet and cutlet—it is laid on the fire, flesh side up, and at intervals the shriveling tissues are clawed off and devoured, while at last the scorched or charred scutes themselves are carried away to be eaten at leisure.272

No doubt the eggs and the newly hatched baby turtles are eaten, and comparisons with other cultures suggest that females are sometimes captured at their nesting sites or while returning to the water; however, observations mainly focus on capturing the adult turtles at sea using a specialized harpoon. A typical example of this tool, developed since flotsam iron was introduced, is shown in figure 20. It consists of a 3 to 4-inch-long point made from a nail or a sturdy piece of wire, roughly sharpened by hammering the tip (cold) between stones, and the loose scales and splinters removed by thrusting and twisting it in the ground; this point is firmly set and glued with mesquite gum into a hard wood foreshaft, usually 4 to 5 inches long, notched to hold a cord and rounded at the end; this rounded end fits into a socket of the main shaft, which can be either a cane stalk (as shown in the figure) or a section of mesquite root. A strong cord is securely knotted around the foreshaft and either attached to the end of the main shaft or runs along it to the fisherman's hand. The main shaft is generally 10 to 12 feet long, and the harpoon socket is at the larger end, wielded by a fisherman sitting or standing on his balsa. When he spots a turtle floating in the water, he quietly approaches, preferably from behind without casting a shadow that might scare it off, positions the foreshaft, guides the point close to the shell, and with a quick thrust drives the metal through the carapace. The friction between the chitin and the metal keeps the point in place, and although the foreshaft gets pulled out with the turtle's first movement, the cord stops it from escaping; after some struggle, the turtle is either drowned or brought ashore, or lifted onto the boat. As soon as they land the turtle, the warriors and their strong-taloned partners passionately tear off the plastron with strikes from their hupf, ripping it away with powerful pulls, driven by a fierce bloodlust akin to predatory animals. The blood, guts, and soft parts are consumed immediately, followed by the firmer flesh depending on how hungry they are, with both men and women crushing skin, tendons, and bones with the hupf, ripping other tissues with teeth and nails, tearing shreds from the shells, and devouring it eagerly if they are really hungry, but stopping to singe or half-cook larger pieces when they are somewhat full. If the turtle is too big to eat right away and not too far from a rancheria, the leftovers (including the head, flippers, and shells) are hoisted on top of a jacal over the open end—the traditional Seri storage area—to dry in the sun for hours or even days; these tough and gamey bits become a treat for those staying at home, especially the kids, who enjoy chewing on them whenever they have nothing else to do. In times of abundance, the sun-dried remnants of these smelly feasts are generally given first to the children and then to the coyote-dogs; toddlers often gather around an upside-down shell on their hands and knees, poking their heads into its stinky interior, disturbing the rare scavenger beetles and blowflies of this dry region, gnawing on the cartilaginous bits, and repeatedly sucking and swallowing the tendons from the muscle attachments until they end up feeling full and overwhelmed by the smell, eventually falling asleep with their heads in the trough—only to be quietly nudged aside by the timid dogs hanging around the rancheria. Typically, the shell and the longer bones from the flippers of bigger turtles are kept intact for other uses, cleaned only by teeth, nails, and tongues, aided by time but not by fire; however, the plastron, unless broken up and eaten right away, goes through a cooking method where it acts as both a skillet and a cutlet—it is placed on the fire, flesh side up, and periodically, the shriveling tissues are clawed off and eaten, while the burned or charred scales are saved to be enjoyed later.

Perhaps the most significant fact connected with the Seri turtle-fishing is the excellent adaptation of means to ends. The graceful and effective balsa is in large measure an appurtenance of the industry; the harpoon is hardly heavier and is much simpler than a trout-fishing tackle, yet serves for the certain capture of a 200-pound turtle; and the art of fishing for a quarry so shy and elusive that Caucasians may spend weeks on the shores without seeing a specimen is reduced to a perfection even transcending that of such artifacts as the light harpoon and fragile olla. Hardly less significant is the nonuse of that nearly universal implement, the knife, in every stage of the taking and consumption of the characteristic tribal prey; for it may fairly be inferred that the comparative inutility of the knife in dissevering the hard and horny chelonian derm, and the comparative effectiveness of the shell-breaking and bone-crushing hupf, have reacted cumulatively on the instincts of the tribe to retard the adoption of cutting devices. Of much significance, too, is the limited cooking process; for the habitual consumption of raw flesh betokens a fireless ancestry at no remote stage, while the crude cooking of (and in) that portion of the shell not consecrated to other uses might well form the germ of broiling or boiling on the one hand and of culinary utensils on the other hand. On the whole, the Seri turtle industry indicates a delicate adjustment of both vital and activital processes to a distinctive environment, in which the abundant chelonian fauna ranks as a prime factor.

Perhaps the most important thing about the Seri turtle-fishing is how well their tools match their needs. The sleek and effective balsa is a key part of the industry; the harpoon is barely heavier and much simpler than trout-fishing gear, yet it reliably catches a 200-pound turtle. The skill required to fish for such a shy and elusive creature—so much so that Caucasians might spend weeks on the shore without spotting one—is perfected beyond even the refinement of tools like the light harpoon and delicate olla. Also notable is the absence of that nearly universal tool, the knife, at every stage of capturing and consuming the tribal catch. It's reasonable to think that the knife's limited usefulness in cutting through the tough, hard shell of the turtle—compared to the effectiveness of the shell-breaking and bone-crushing hupf—has influenced the tribe's instincts and slowed down the adoption of cutting tools. Equally significant is the minimal cooking process; the regular eating of raw flesh suggests a fireless ancestry not too far back, while the rudimentary cooking of (and in) the part of the shell not used for other purposes could very well be the beginning of broiling or boiling on one hand and cooking utensils on the other. Overall, the Seri turtle industry shows a fine-tuned balance of both essential and active processes tailored to a unique environment, where the plentiful turtle population is a key factor.

Analogy with other primitive peoples would indicate that the flesh of the turtle is probably tabu to the Turtle clan, that the consumption of the quarry is preceded by an oblation, and that there are seasonal or other ceremonial rites connected with turtle-fishing; but no information has been obtained on any of these points save a few vague and unwilling suggestions from Mashém tending to establish the analogy.

Analogy with other primitive groups suggests that turtle meat is likely forbidden for the Turtle clan, that eating the catch is probably preceded by a ritual offering, and that there are seasonal or other ceremonial practices associated with turtle fishing. However, we haven't gathered any solid information on these aspects, apart from a few vague and hesitant hints from Mashém that lean towards supporting the analogy.

Flotsam and stolen metal have played a rôle in the industries of Seriland so long that it is difficult to learn much of the turtle-fishing 190* during premetal times; but an intimation from Mashém that the old men thought it much better to take the turtle with the teeth of an “animal that goes in the water”, and the similarity in terms for “harpoon” (or arrow) and “teeth” both suggest that the aboriginal point may have been a sea-lion tooth, and that the foreshaft itself may have been a larger tooth of seal or cetacean. While the modern harpoon is shaped with the aid of metal (hoop-iron, etc.), the forms are quite evidently vestigial of knifeless manufacture, in which a naturally rounded or abraded or fire-shaped foreshaft was fitted into the natural socket afforded by a cane-stalk broken at its weakest point—i. e., just below the joint; and both function and socket arrangement (as well as the linguistic evidence) strongly suggest the cylindrical tooth as the germ of the apparatus.

Flotsam and stolen metal have been part of the industries in Seriland for so long that it's tough to learn much about turtle fishing 190* during the pre-metal times. However, there's a hint from Mashém that the old men believed it was much better to capture turtles using the teeth of an "animal that goes in the water." The similarities in the terms for "harpoon" (or arrow) and "teeth" suggest that the original point might have been a sea lion tooth, and the foreshaft itself could have been a larger tooth from a seal or whale. While the modern harpoon is designed with metal (like hoop-iron, etc.), the designs clearly show evidence of earlier, knifeless manufacturing, where a naturally rounded or worn or fire-shaped foreshaft was fitted into the natural socket created by breaking a cane stalk at its weakest point—right below the joint. Both the function and socket arrangement (as well as the language evidence) strongly indicate that the cylindrical tooth was the origin of the device.


It is probable that water-fowl, considered collectively, stand second in importance as Seri prey; and the foremost fowl is undoubtedly the pelican, which serves not only as a fruitful food-supply but as the chief source of apparel.

It’s likely that waterfowl, when looked at as a whole, are the second most important source of food for the Seri; and the most significant bird is definitely the pelican, which provides not only a reliable food source but also the main material for clothing.

The principal haunt and only known breeding ground of the pelican in the Gulf of California is Isla Tassne, an integral part of Seriland; and while the great birds are doubtless taken occasionally in Bahia Kunkaak, El Infiernillo, Bahia Tepoka, and other Seri waters, this island is the principal pelican hunting ground. According to Mashém’s account, the chase of the pelican here is a well-organized collective process: at certain seasons, or at least at times deemed propitious by the shamans, pelican harvests are planned; and after some days of preparation a large party assemble at a certain convenient point (presumably Punta Antigualla) and await a still evening in the dark of the moon. When all conditions are favorable they set out for the island at late twilight, in order that it may be reached after dark; on approaching the shore the balsas are left in charge of the women, while the warriors and the larger boys, armed only with clubs, rush on the roosting fowls and slaughter them in great numbers—the favorite coup de grâce being a blow on the neck. The butchery is followed by a gluttonous feast, in which the half-famished families gorge the tenderer parts in the darkness, and noisily carouse in the carnage until overcome by slumber. Next day the matrons select the carcasses of least injured plumage and carefully remove the skins, the requisite incisions being made either with the edge of a shell-cup or with a sharp sliver of cane-stalk taken from an injured arrow or a broken balsa-cane. The feast holds for several days, or until the last bones are picked and the whole party sated, when the clans scatter at will, laden with skins and lethargic from the fortnight’s food with which each maw is crammed.

The main gathering spot and only known breeding ground of the pelican in the Gulf of California is Isla Tassne, a key part of Seriland. While large pelicans are sometimes caught in Bahia Kunkaak, El Infiernillo, Bahia Tepoka, and other Seri waters, this island is the main hunting area for pelicans. According to Mashém’s account, hunting pelicans here is a well-organized group activity: during certain seasons, or at times chosen by the shamans as favorable, they plan pelican harvests; after a few days of preparation, a large group meets at a convenient location (probably Punta Antigualla) and waits for a calm evening during the dark of the moon. When conditions are just right, they set off for the island just before twilight, aiming to arrive after dark. Once they get close to the shore, the balsas are left in the care of the women, while the men and older boys, armed only with clubs, charge at the roosting birds and kill them in large numbers—the preferred finishing move being a blow to the neck. This slaughter is followed by a gluttonous feast, where the hungry families devour the tender parts in the dark and loudly celebrate the carnage until they eventually fall asleep. The next day, the women choose the birds with the least damaged feathers and carefully remove the skins, making the necessary cuts with the edge of a shell or a sharp piece of cane taken from a damaged arrow or broken balsa-cane. The feast lasts for several days, or until every last bone is picked clean and everyone is satisfied, after which the clans disperse at their leisure, carrying skins and feeling sluggish from the two weeks' worth of food that has filled their stomachs.

Mashém’s recital gave no indication as to whether the Pelican clan participate in the hunting orgies, though it clearly implies that the chase and feast are at least measurably ceremonial in character; and this implication was strengthened by the interest and comparative 191* vivacity awakened in the Seri bystanders by their spokesman’s frequent interlocutions with them during the recital. Unfortunately the account was not clear as to the seasons selected, though the expressions indicated that the feasts are fixed for times at which the young are fully fledged. It would seem inconceivable that the Seri, with their insatiate appetite for eggs and tender young, should consciously respect a breeding time or establish a closed season to perpetuate any game; yet it is probable that the pelican is somehow protected in such wise that it is not only not exterminated or exiled, but actually fostered and cultivated. It is certain that the mythical Ancient of Pelicans is the chief creative deity of Seri legend, and its living representative the chief tutelary of one of the clans; it is certain, too, that this fleshly fowl, sluggish and defenseless as it is on its sleeping grounds, would be the easiest source of Seri food if it were hunted indiscriminately; and it is no less certain that the omnivorous tribesmen would quickly extinguish the local stock if they were to make its kind, including eggs and young, their chief diet; yet it survives in literal thousands to patrol the waters of all Seriland in far-stretching files and vees seldom out of sight in suitable weather. On the whole, it would seem evident that an interadjustment has grown up between the tribesmen and their fish-eating tutelary during the centuries, whereby the fowl is protected, albeit subconsciously only, during the breeding seasons; and in view of other characteristics of the tribe it would seem equally evident that the protection is in some way effected by means of ceremonies and tabus.

Mashém's recital didn’t clarify whether the Pelican clan participates in the hunting rituals, but it clearly suggests that the chase and feast are somewhat ceremonial. This suggestion was bolstered by the interest and lively engagement shown by the Seri bystanders, who interacted frequently with their spokesperson during the recital. Unfortunately, the account didn’t specify the selected seasons, but the descriptions indicated that the feasts are scheduled for times when the young are fully fledged. It seems hard to believe that the Seri, who have an insatiable appetite for eggs and tender young animals, would intentionally respect a breeding season or set a closed season to conserve any game. However, it’s likely that the pelican is somehow protected, so it’s not only not eliminated or driven away but is actually encouraged and nurtured. It’s certain that the mythical Ancient of Pelicans is the main creative god in Seri legend, and its living counterpart is the chief protector of one of the clans. It’s also clear that this slow and defenseless bird would be the easiest source of food for the Seri if they hunted it without restraint, and it’s undeniable that the resourceful tribes would quickly deplete the local population if they made it, including its eggs and young, their primary diet. Yet, they survive in literal thousands, patrolling the waters of all Seriland in long lines and formations that are rarely out of sight in suitable weather. Overall, it seems evident that a balance has developed between the tribesmen and their fish-eating guardian over the centuries, where the bird is protected, albeit subconsciously, during the breeding seasons. Considering other traits of the tribe, it seems equally clear that this protection is somehow enforced through ceremonies and taboos.

Somewhat analogous, though apparently less ceremonial, expeditions are made to Isla Patos and other points in search of ducks, and to Isla San Esteban, and still more distant islands in search of eggs (preferably near the hatching point) and nestlings; while the abundant waterfowl of the region are sought in Rada Ballena and other sheltered bays, as well as in such landlocked lagoons as those of Punta Miguel and Punta Arena. This hunting involves the use of bows and arrows, though the archery of the tribe pertains rather to the chase of larger land game, and apparently attains its highest development in connection with warfare. No specialized fowling devices have been observed among the Seri; and their autonomous recitals, the facies of their artifacts, and the observed habits of the tribe (especially the youth) with respect to birds, all indicate that ordinary fowling holds a subordinate place in Seri craft—i. e., that it is a fortuitous and emergency avocation, rather than an organized art like turtle-fishing and water-carrying. Concordantly, culinary processes are not normally employed in connection with waterfowl, and the customary implements used for incising the skin and severing other tissues are the shell-cup, which is carried habitually for other purposes, the cane-splint, which appears to be improvised on occasion, and never carried habitually, and the ubiquitous hupf. 192*

Somewhat similar, though apparently less formal, trips are made to Isla Patos and other locations in search of ducks, as well as to Isla San Esteban and even more remote islands looking for eggs (preferably near the time of hatching) and chicks. The plentiful waterfowl in the area are sought out in Rada Ballena and other sheltered bays, as well as in landlocked lagoons like Punta Miguel and Punta Arena. This hunting uses bows and arrows, although the tribe's archery is more focused on hunting larger land game and seems to be most developed for warfare. No specialized bird-catching tools have been seen among the Seri. Their autonomous rituals, the styles of their artifacts, and the behaviors of the tribe (especially the younger members) regarding birds all suggest that ordinary bird hunting is a minor part of Seri skills—meaning it's an occasional and emergency activity, rather than an organized skill like turtle fishing and carrying water. Accordingly, cooking methods are not typically used for waterfowl, and the usual tools for cutting skin and separating other tissues are the shell cup, which is carried for various purposes, the cane splint, which seems to be improvised occasionally and is not regularly carried, and the common hupf. 192*

Probably second in importance among Seri prey, as a food-source merely, stand the multifarious fishes with which the waters of Seriland teem, particularly if the class be held to comprise the cetaceans and seals and selachians ranked as leaders of the fish fauna in Seri lore.

Probably second in importance among Seri prey, as a food source, are the various fish that fill the waters of Seriland, especially if this category includes cetaceans, seals, and sharks, which are considered the top tier of the fish fauna in Seri culture.

Naturally, whales lie outside the ordinary range of Seri game, yet they are not without place in the tribal economy. During the visit to the Seri rancheria near Costa Rica in 1894, it was noted that various events—births, deaths, journeys, etc.—were referred to “The Time of the Big Fish”; and it was estimated from apparent ages of children and the like that this chronologic datum might be correlated roughly with the year 1887. The era-marking event was memorable to Mashém, to the elderwomen of the Turtle clan, and to other mature members of the group, because they had been enabled thereby to dispense with hunting and fishing for an agreeably long time, and because they had moved their houses; but the providential occurrence was not interpreted at the time. On visiting Isla Tiburon in 1895, the interpretation became clear; along the western shore of Rada Ballena, near the first sand-spit north of the bight, lay the larger bones of a whale, estimated from the length of the mandibles and the dimensions of the vertebræ to have been 75 or 80 feet long. It was evident that the animal had gone into the shoal water at exceptionally high tide and had stranded during the ebb; while the condition of the bones suggested an exposure to the weather of perhaps half a dozen years. On the shrubby bank above the beach, hard by the bleaching skeleton, stood the new rancheria, the most extensive seen in Seriland, comprising some fifteen or twenty habitable jacales; and fragments of ribs and other huge bones about and within the huts273 attested transportation thither after the building, while the shallowness of the trails and the limited trampling of the fog shrubbery gave an air of freshness to the site and surroundings. The traditions and the relics together made it manifest that “The Time of the Big Fish” had indeed marked an epoch in Seri life; that when the leviathan landed (whether through accident or partly through efforts of balsa-men) it was quickly recognized as a vast contribution to the Seri larder; and that some of the clans, if not the entire tribe, gathered to gorge first flesh and blubber, next sun-softened cartilage and chitin, and then epiphyses and the fatter bones. Some of the ribs were splintered and crushed, evidently by blows of the hupf, in order to give access to the cancellate interiors; several of the vertebræ were battered and split, and nearly all of the bones bore marks of hupf blows, aimed to loosen cartilaginous attachments, start epiphyses, or remove spongy and greasy processes. Little trace of fire was found; in one case a mandible was partly scorched, though the burning appeared to be fortuitous and long subsequent to the removal of the flesh; and a bit of charred and gnawed epiphysis, much resembling the fragments of half-cooked turtle plastron scattered over Seriland, was picked up in 193* one of the huts. The condition of the remains and the various indications connected with the rancheria corroborated the tradition that the great creature had afforded unlimited and acceptable food for many moons; and various expressions of the tradition indicated that the event, though the most memorable of its class, was not unique in Seri lore.

Naturally, whales fall outside the usual range of Seri game, but they still play a role in the tribal economy. During a visit to the Seri rancheria near Costa Rica in 1894, it was noted that various events—births, deaths, journeys, etc.—were referred to as “The Time of the Big Fish.” It was estimated, based on the apparent ages of children and similar factors, that this time frame roughly corresponded with the year 1887. This significant event was memorable for Mashém, the elder women of the Turtle clan, and other older members of the group because it allowed them to stop hunting and fishing for a considerable period, and they had moved their homes. However, the occurrence wasn’t fully understood at that time. When visiting Isla Tiburon in 1895, the meaning became clear; along the western shore of Rada Ballena, next to the first sand spit north of the bight, lay the large bones of a whale, estimated to be about 75 or 80 feet long based on the size of its mandibles and vertebrae. It was clear that the whale had entered the shallow water during an unusually high tide and stranded during the ebb; the condition of the bones indicated they had been exposed to the elements for about six years. Above the beach, on the shrubby bank near the bleaching skeleton, stood the new rancheria, the largest seen in Seriland, consisting of about fifteen or twenty habitable jacales. Fragments of ribs and other large bones scattered around and inside the huts273 showed they had been transported there after the huts were built, while the shallow trails and light trampling of the fog shrubbery gave the area a fresh feel. The traditions and relics together made it clear that “The Time of the Big Fish” had indeed marked an important period in Seri life; when the giant whale landed (whether by accident or partly due to the efforts of balsa men), it was quickly recognized as a significant contribution to the Seri food supply. Some clans, if not the entire tribe, gathered to feast on the meat and blubber, then on the sun-softened cartilage and chitin, and finally on the epiphyses and the fattier bones. Some ribs were splintered and crushed, likely by blows from the hupf, in order to access the inner spongy parts; several vertebrae were damaged and split, and nearly all the bones showed marks from hupf strikes aimed at loosening cartilage, starting epiphyses, or removing fatty, spongy areas. There was little evidence of fire; in one instance, a mandible was partially scorched, but it seemed that the burning was accidental and happened long after the meat was removed. A piece of charred and gnawed epiphysis, which closely resembled fragments of half-cooked turtle shell scattered across Seriland, was found in one of the huts. The state of the remains and various indicators related to the rancheria supported the tradition that the great creature provided an abundant and acceptable food source for many moons; various expressions of this tradition indicated that although this event was the most memorable of its kind, it was not unique in Seri stories.

A few bones and fragments of skin of the seal were found in and about the rancherias on Isla Tiburon, and an old basket rebottomed with sealskin was picked up in a recently abandoned jacal on Rada Ballena; a few bones provisionally identified with the porpoise (which haunts Boco Infierno in shoals) were also found amid the refuse about the old rancheria at the base of the long sand-spit terminating in Punta Tormenta; but nothing was learned specifically concerning the chase and consumption either of these animals or of the abundant sharks from which the island is named.

A few bones and bits of seal skin were discovered in and around the rancherias on Isla Tiburon, and an old basket re-lined with sealskin was found in a recently abandoned jacal on Rada Ballena. Some bones that were tentatively identified as belonging to the porpoise, which often appears in shoals at Boco Infierno, were also found among the waste around the old rancheria at the base of the long sand-spit ending at Punta Tormenta. However, we didn't find out anything specific about the hunting and eating of these animals or the numerous sharks for which the island is named.

Fig. 21—Fish-spearhead.

Fig. 21—Fish spearhead.

Among the exceedingly limited food supplies brought from the coast by the Seri group at Costa Rica in 1894, were rank remnants of partly desiccated fish, usually gnawed down to heads and tails; and Mashém and others spoke of fish as a habitual food, while Señor Encinas regarded it as the principal element of the tribal dietary. The harder bones and heavier scales of several varieties of fish were also found abundantly among the middens of both mainland and Tiburon shores in 1895. None of the remains bore noticeable traces of fire; and all observations, including those of Señor Encinas, indicate that the smaller varieties of fish are habitually eaten raw, either fresh or partially dried, according to the state of appetite at the time of taking—or the condition of finding when picked up as beach flotsam. But a single piscatorial device was observed, i. e., the barbed point and foreshaft, shown in figure 21—the iron point being, of course, accultural, and probably obtained surreptitiously. This harpoon, which measures 6 inches in length over all, is designed for use in connection with the main shaft of a turtle-catching tackle; and it is evidently intended for the larger varieties, perhaps porpoises or sharks. In 1827 Hardy observed a related device:

Among the very limited food supplies brought from the coast by the Seri group at Costa Rica in 1894 were stale leftovers of partly dried fish, usually just the heads and tails; and Mashém and others talked about fish as a common food, while Señor Encinas considered it the main part of the tribe's diet. The harder bones and heavier scales of several fish types were also found in large quantities among the refuse piles on both the mainland and Tiburon shores in 1895. None of the remains showed clear signs of being cooked; and all observations, including those by Señor Encinas, suggest that the smaller fish are usually eaten raw, either fresh or partially dried, depending on the appetite at the time of catching—or the condition they were in when picked up as debris on the beach. Only one fishing tool was noted, i.e., the barbed point and foreshaft, shown in figure 21—the iron point being, of course, a foreign addition, probably obtained secretly. This harpoon, which is 6 inches long overall, is meant for use with the main shaft of turtle-catching equipment; and it clearly targets larger species, possibly porpoises or sharks. In 1827, Hardy noted a similar tool:

They have a curious weapon which they employ for catching fish. It is a spear with a double point, forming an angle of about 5°. The insides of these two points, which are 6 inches long, are jagged, so that when the body of a fish is forced between them, it can not get away on account of the teeth.274

They have a cool tool for fishing. It's a spear with a double point that forms an angle of about 5°. The insides of these two points are 6 inches long and have jagged edges, so when a fish gets caught between them, it can’t escape because of the teeth.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Don Andrés Noriega, of Costa Rica, described repeatedly and circumstantially a method of obtaining fish by aid of pelicans, in which a 194* young or crippled fowl was roped to a shrub or stone, to be fed by his fellows; when at intervals a youth stole out to rob the captive’s pouch. At first blush this device would seem to rise above the normal industrial plane of the Seri and to lie within the lower stages of zooculture, like the cormorant fishing of China if not the hawking of medieval Europe; yet on the whole it may be deemed fairly consistent with that cruel yet mutually beneficial toleration between tribesmen and pelicans attested by the preservation of the avian communal, as already noted. Moreover, Don Andrés observations are in accord with early notes of the exceedingly primitive aborigines of California, from whom the Seri have undoubtedly borrowed various cultural suggestions; thus Venegas quotes Padre Torquemada as saying:

Don Andrés Noriega from Costa Rica repeatedly described a method for catching fish using pelicans, where a young or injured bird was tied to a bush or rock and fed by its companions. At intervals, a young person would sneak out to take the fish from the captive's pouch. At first glance, this technique might seem to be more advanced than the typical practices of the Seri and align more with the early stages of animal domestication, similar to cormorant fishing in China or falconry in medieval Europe. However, it can generally be seen as fitting with the harsh but mutually beneficial relationship between tribespeople and pelicans, as indicated by the ongoing existence of the avian community, as previously mentioned. Additionally, Don Andrés's observations match early accounts of the very primitive indigenous peoples of California, from whom the Seri likely borrowed various cultural ideas; thus, Venegas cites Padre Torquemada saying:

I accidentally found a gull tied with a string and one of his wings broke. Around this maimed bird lay heaps of excellent pilchards, brought thither by its companions; and this, I found, was a stratagem practiced by the Indians to procure themselves a dish of fish; for they lie concealed while the gulls bring these charitable supplies, and when they think that little more is to be expected they seize upon the contributions.

I found a seagull caught in some string, and one of its wings was broken. Around this injured bird were heaps of delicious pilchards, brought by its friends; and I realized this was a trick used by the Indians to catch fish. They hide nearby while the seagulls bring these generous gifts, and when they think no more are coming, they grab the fish.

The padre says also of these gulls that “they have a vast craw, which in some hangs down like the leather bottles used in Peru for carrying water, and in it they put their captures to carry them to their young ones”—from which it is evident that he refers to the pelican. Venegas adds, “Such are the mysterious ways of Providence for the support of his creatures!”275 And in the margin of his accompanying “Mapa de la California”, he introduces a vigorous picture of a captive fowl, its free fellow, and the mess of fish, the cut being headed “Alcatrazes” (pelicans).

The padre also talks about these gulls, saying, “they have a large throat pouch, which in some hangs down like the leather bottles used in Peru for carrying water, and they use it to store their catches to take back to their young ones”—clearly referring to the pelican. Venegas adds, “Such are the mysterious ways of Providence for the support of His creatures!” 275 In the margin of his accompanying “Mapa de la California,” he includes a lively illustration of a captured bird, its free counterpart, and a pile of fish, with the caption “Alcatrazes” (pelicans).

Despite these devices, the dearth of fishing-tackle among the Seri is evidently extreme. Save in the single specimen figured, no piscatorial apparatus of any sort was found among the squalid but protean possessions at the Costa Rica rancheria; neither nets nor hooks nor rods nor lines nor any other device suitable for taking the finny game were found in the scores of jacales containing other artifacts on Tiburon; while Señor Encinas was conversant only with the simple method of taking fish by hand from the pools and shallows left by receding breakers or ebbing tides. This dearth of devices is significantly harmonious with other Seri characteristics: it accords with the leading place assigned the turtle in their industry and their lore; it is in harmony with that primitive and nonmechanical instinct which leads them to rely on bodily strength and skill and swiftness rather than on extra-corporeal artifacts in their crude and incomplete conquest of nature; and it is a manifest expression of relation with their distinctive physical environment—for the ever-thundering breakers of their gale-swept coast are abundant, albeit capricious, bringers of living grist, while the offshore gales at low tide lay bare hundreds of acres of shoaler 195* bottoms literally writhing with fishes stranded among beds of mollusks and slimy with the abounding plankton of a fecund coast. The region is one of ample, albeit lowly, food supply, where every experience tends toward inert reliance on providential chance, and where the stimulus of consistently conscious necessity seldom stirs the inventive faculty.

Despite these tools, the lack of fishing gear among the Seri is clearly extreme. Aside from the one example shown, no fishing equipment of any kind was found among the shabby but varied belongings at the Costa Rica rancheria; neither nets, hooks, rods, lines, nor any other devices suitable for catching fish were located in the many jacales containing other artifacts on Tiburon. Señor Encinas was only familiar with the basic method of catching fish by hand from the pools and shallow areas left by receding waves or low tides. This lack of gear aligns well with other Seri traits: it corresponds with the prominent role that turtles play in their economy and culture; it fits their primitive and non-mechanical instinct, which leads them to depend on their physical strength, skill, and speed rather than on external tools in their rough and incomplete challenge against nature; and it clearly reflects their unique physical environment—where the constantly crashing waves of their stormy coast bring plenty of marine life, albeit unpredictably, while the offshore winds during low tide expose hundreds of acres of shallow bottoms teeming with fish stranded among beds of mollusks, slick with the abundant plankton of a fertile coast. The area provides plenty of basic food, where every experience tends to foster a reliance on luck, and where the pressure of consistent necessity rarely sparks creativity.


Closely connected with fish as a Seri food-source are the various molluscan and crustacean forms collectively called shellfish; and these contribute a considerable share of the sustenance of the tribe.

Closely linked to fish as a food source for the Seri are the different types of mollusks and crustaceans collectively known as shellfish; these also make up a significant part of the tribe's diet.

Apparently the most important constituent of this class of foods is the Pacific coast clam, which abounds in the broad mud-flats bordering Laguna La Cruz and other lagoons of Seriland, and which was still more abundant during a subrecent geologic epoch, to judge from the immense accumulation of the shells in Punta Antigualla. The clams are usually taken at low tide, without specialized apparatus. They are located by feeling with the feet in shallow water, and caught either with toes or with fingers, to be tossed into any convenient receptacle. When the water is entirely withdrawn from the flats, they are located by means of their holes, and are extricated either with a shell-cup or with some other improvised implement. Frequently the entire mess is thrown into a fire until the shells open, when they are withdrawn and the mollusks devoured practically raw; perhaps more commonly the shells are opened by blows of the hupf, and eaten without semblance of cooking; and, except on the surface, no trace of roasting was found among the vast accumulations of shells in Punta Antigualla.

Apparently, the most important part of this type of food is the Pacific coast clam, which is plentiful in the wide mudflats around Laguna La Cruz and other lagoons of Seriland, and was even more abundant during a recent geological period, based on the huge piles of shells found in Punta Antigualla. Clams are usually gathered at low tide without any special equipment. People find them by feeling around with their feet in shallow water and catch them with their toes or fingers, tossing them into any handy container. When the water completely recedes from the flats, they locate the clams by their holes and dig them out using a shell cup or some other makeshift tool. Often, the whole batch is thrown into a fire until the shells open, and then they're removed to eat the mollusks almost raw; more commonly, the shells are opened by striking them with a hupf and eaten without any cooking. Additionally, apart from the surface, no sign of roasting was found among the huge piles of shells in Punta Antigualla.

Perhaps second to the clam in frequency of use is the local oyster, which abounds about the more sheltered shores of Tiburon. It is gathered with the hands, aided perhaps by a stone or stick for dislodging the shells either from the extended offshore beds at extreme low water, or from the roots of a mangrove-like shrub at a medium stage. The shells, like those of the clam, are frequently opened by partial roasting; and shells, sometimes scorched, are extensively scattered over the interior, indicating that the oyster is a favorite portable food. The popularity of this bivalve is shared by the Noah’s-ark (Arca), to which some mystical significance is apparently ascribed; and the abundant limpets and bivalves and other mollusks are eaten indiscriminately, to judge from the abundance of their shells in the middens. The ordinary crab, too, is a favorite article of food, and its claws are numerous in camp and house refuse; while the lobster-like deep-water crab is introduced into the menu whenever brought to the surface by storms, as shown by its massive remains in the middens.

Perhaps second to the clam in frequency of use is the local oyster, which is plentiful along the more sheltered shores of Tiburon. It is gathered by hand, maybe with the help of a stone or stick to pry the shells loose, either from the extended offshore beds at low tide or from the roots of a mangrove-like shrub at a mid-tide level. The shells, similar to those of the clam, are often opened by partial roasting; and shells, sometimes scorched, are widely scattered throughout the interior, showing that the oyster is a popular portable food. The popularity of this bivalve is shared by the Noah’s-ark (Arca), which seems to have some mystical significance; and various limpets, bivalves, and other mollusks are consumed without much discrimination, as indicated by the abundance of their shells in the middens. The common crab is also a favored food item, with its claws frequently found in camp and house waste; while the lobster-like deep-water crab makes an appearance on the menu whenever it is brought to the surface by storms, as evidenced by its large remains found in the middens.

On the whole, shellfish form a conspicuous factor in Seri economy by reason of the considerable consumption of this class of food; but, viewed in the broader industrial aspect, the produce is notably primitive, and significant chiefly as indicating the dearth of mechanical and culinary devices. 196*

Overall, shellfish play a significant role in the Seri economy due to the substantial consumption of this type of food. However, when looked at from a broader industrial perspective, the production methods are quite basic and mainly highlight the lack of mechanical and cooking tools. 196*

While by far the larger share of Seri sustenance is drawn from the sea, a not inconsiderable portion is derived from the land; for the warriors and striplings and even the women are more skilful hunters than fishers.

While most of the Seri's food comes from the sea, a significant part also comes from the land; the warriors, young men, and even the women are better hunters than fishers.

The larger objects of the feral chase are deer of two or three species (the bura, or mule-deer, being most conspicuous and easiest taken), antelope, and mountain sheep; to which the puma, the jaguar, and perhaps two or three other carnivores might be added. The conventional method of taking the bura and other deer is a combination of stalking and coursing, usually conducted by five of the younger warriors, though three or four may serve in emergency; any excess over five being regarded as superfluous, or as a confession of inferiority. The chase is conducted in a distinctly ceremonial and probably ritualistic fashion, even when the finding of the game is casual, or incidental to a journey: at sight of the quarry, the five huntsmen scatter stealthily in such manner as partially to surround it; when it takes fright one after the other strives to show himself above the shrubbery or dunes in order to break its line of flight into a series of zigzags; and whether successful in this effort or not they keep approximate pace with it until it tires, then gradually surround it, and finally rush in to either seize it in their hands or cripple it with clubs—though the latter procedure is deemed undignified, if not wrong, and hardly less disreputable than complete failure. When practicable the course is laid toward the rancheria or camp; and in any event the ideal finish is to bring the animal alive into the family group, where it maybe dissected by the women, and where the weaklings may receive due share of the much-prized blood and entrails. The dissection is merely a ravenous rending of skin and flesh, primarily with the teeth (perhaps after oblique bruising or tearing by blows with the hupf over strongly flexed joints), largely with hands and fingers aided anon by a foot planted on the carcass, and partly with some improvised device, such as a horn or tooth of the victim itself, the serrated edge of a shell-cup, or perhaps a sharp-edged cane-splint from a broken arrow carried for emergency’s sake. Commonly the entire animal, save skin and harder bones, is gulped at a sitting in which the zeal of the devotee and the frenzy of the carnivore blend; but in case the group is small and the quarry large, the sitting is extended by naps or prolonged slumberings, and the more energetic squaws may even trouble to kindle a fire and partially cook the larger joints, thereby inciting palled appetite to new efforts. Finally the leg bones are split for the marrow and their ends preserved for awls; the horns are retained by the successful huntsmen as talisman-trophies; while the skin is stretched in the desert sun, scratched and gnawed free of superfluous tissue, rubbed into partial pliability, and kept for bedding or robe or kilt.

The larger targets of the wild hunt are deer of two or three species (with the mule-deer being the most noticeable and easiest to catch), antelope, and mountain sheep; to which the puma, the jaguar, and maybe two or three other carnivores could be added. The typical way to catch the mule-deer and other deer combines stalking and coursing, usually done by five of the younger warriors, although three or four can step in if needed; any more than five is seen as unnecessary or as admitting weakness. The hunt is carried out in a distinctly ceremonial and likely ritualistic manner, even when spotting the game is accidental or part of a journey: upon seeing the quarry, the five hunters sneakily spread out to partially surround it; when the deer gets scared, each one tries to reveal themselves above the bushes or dunes to force it into a zigzag escape; whether successful or not, they keep pace with it until it tires, then gradually close in, finally rushing to either catch it by hand or incapacitate it with clubs—though the latter is considered undignified or even wrong, and almost as shameful as completely failing. When possible, they aim to lead the chase back to the rancheria or camp; and ideally, they want to bring the animal back alive to the family group, where women can dissect it, and the weaker members can receive their share of the coveted blood and entrails. Dissection is basically a frenzied tearing of skin and flesh, mostly using teeth (perhaps after some rough bruising or tearing at tightly bent joints), largely with hands and fingers aided occasionally by a foot planted on the carcass, and partly with some makeshift tool, like a horn or tooth from the victim itself, the serrated edge of a shell-cup, or maybe a sharp-edged splint from a broken arrow kept for emergencies. Usually, the whole animal, except for the skin and harder bones, is devoured in one sitting that combines the zeal of the devotee with the frenzy of the carnivore; but if the group is small and the prey is large, the meal is extended with naps or longer sleeps, and the more energetic women might even go to the effort of starting a fire to partially cook the larger pieces, rekindling their appetites for more. Finally, the leg bones are split for the marrow and their ends saved for making awls; the horns are kept by the successful hunters as trophies; while the skin is stretched in the desert sun, scraped and gnawed free of excess tissue, rubbed into partial softness, and kept for bedding, robes, or skirts.

The chase of the hare is closely parallel to that of the deer save that it is conducted by striplings, who thereby serve apprenticeship in hunting 197* and at the same time enrich the tribal larder with a game beneath the dignity of the warriors; while still smaller boys similarly chase the rabbit, which is commonly scorned by the striplings. The conventional hare-hunting party is three, and it is deemed disreputable to increase this number greatly. The youths spread at sight of the game and seek to surround it, taking ingenious and constant advantage of the habit of the hare to run obliquely or in zigzags to survey more readily the source of its fright; for some time they startle it but slightly by successive appearances at a distance, but gradually increase its harassment until it bounds hither and thither in terror, when they rapidly close in and seize it, the entire chase commonly lasting but a few minutes. The quarry is customarily taken alive to camp, where it is quickly rent to fragments and the entrails and flesh and most of the bones consumed; the skin usually passes into possession of a matron for use as infantile clothing or cradle bedding, while the ears are kept by the youth who first seized the game until his feat is eclipsed by some other event—unless chance hunger sooner tempts him to transmute his trophy into pottage.

The pursuit of the hare is quite similar to that of the deer, except it’s carried out by young boys, who are learning the art of hunting and also helping to add to the tribe's food supply with game that's not considered worthy of the warriors. Younger boys often chase rabbits, which are generally looked down upon by the older boys. A typical hare-hunting group consists of three members, and it’s seen as shameful to have many more than that. The young hunters spread out when they spot the game and try to encircle it, cleverly using the hare's tendency to run at angles or in zigzags to better see what startled it. At first, they only slightly startle the hare by showing themselves from a distance, but they gradually increase their pressure until the hare jumps around in panic. Then, they quickly close in and catch it; the whole chase usually lasts just a few minutes. The hare is typically brought back to camp alive, where it is quickly torn apart, and the guts, meat, and most of the bones are eaten. The skin usually goes to a woman in the tribe for making clothes for children or bedding for cradles, while the ears are kept by the boy who caught the hare until his achievement is overshadowed by something else—unless he gets hungry and decides to turn his trophy into a stew.

While the collective, semiceremonial style of chase alone is thoroughly good form in Seri custom, it is often rendered impracticable by the scattering of the tribe in separate families or small bands, in which case the bura and its associates, like the larger carnivores customarily, are taken by strategy rather than by strength. This form of chase is largely individual; in it archery plays a leading rôle; and in it, too, ambuscade, stealthy lying in wait, and covert assault attain high development. It is closely analogous with the warfare typical of the tribe; and it is especially noteworthy as one of the most effective stimuli to intellectual activity, and hence to the development of invention—if the term may be applied to industrial products so lowly as those of the Seri.

While the group, semi-ceremonial style of hunting is considered proper in Seri culture, it often becomes impractical when the tribe is spread out in separate families or small groups. In those cases, the bura and its partners, similar to larger carnivores, are caught through strategy rather than brute force. This hunting style is primarily individual; archery plays a major role here, along with ambush, patient waiting, and stealthy attacks, which are highly developed. It closely resembles the warfare typical of the tribe and is particularly noteworthy as a powerful motivator for intellectual activity, leading to the development of new inventions—even if we use the term loosely for such basic industrial products as those made by the Seri.

The chief artifact produced by the strategic chase on land would seem to be the analogue of the harpoon used at sea, i. e., the arrow. This weapon is one of the three or four most highly differentiated and thoroughly perfected of the Seri artifacts, ranking with canteen-olla and balsa, and perhaps outranking the turtle-harpoon. It is fabricated with great care and high skill, and with striking uniformity in details of material and construction. A typical example is 25 inches in length and consists of three pieces—point, foreshaft, and main shaft (feathered toward the nock). The foreshaft is 8½ inches long, of hard wood carefully ground by rubbing with quartzite or pumice into cylindrical form, about three-eighths of an inch in diameter at the larger end and tapering slightly toward the point; the larger end is extended by careful grinding into a tang which is fitted into the main shaft, the joint being neatly wrapped with sinew. This main shaft is a cane-stalk (Phragmites communis?) 15 or 16 inches long, carefully selected for size and well straightened and smoothed; it is feathered with three equidistantly-placed 198* wing-feathers of hawk or falcon, neatly prepared by removing a thin strip of the rachis bearing the wider vexillum and attaching it by sinew wrappings at both ends, the feathers being about 5½ inches in length. The nock is a simple rounded notch, placed just below a joint and supported by the sinew ferrule; there is no foot-plug. The favorite point is a bit of flotsam hoop-iron, ground into elongate triangular shape with projecting barbs, and a short tang or shank fitted into a shallow notch in the foreshaft, cemented there with mesquite gum, and finally fixed firmly with sinew wrappings. A typical iron-point arrow, with bow and quiver, is depicted in plate XXX. Alternative points are of rudely chipped stone (two examples are illustrated in figure 37) somewhat clumsily attached to the foreshaft by mesquite gum and sinew wrapping; while the arrows used by boys and hunters of small game are usually pointless, the tip of the foreshaft being sharpened and hardened by slight charring. In some of the arrows, especially those designed for use in war, the foreshaft is notched, or else loosely attached to the main shaft, in order that it may be detached from the main shaft and remain in the body of enemy or prey. The foreshaft is commonly painted some bright color (red is prevalent), while the points and attachments of the “poisoned” specimens are smeared with some greasy substance.

The main tool created from the strategic hunt on land is similar to the harpoon used at sea, which would be the arrow. This weapon is one of the top three or four most advanced and refined of the Seri creations, ranking alongside the canteen-olla and balsa, and possibly even surpassing the turtle-harpoon. It is made with great care and skill, showing impressive consistency in the materials and construction details. A typical example measures 25 inches in length and consists of three parts—point, foreshaft, and main shaft (fletched toward the nock). The foreshaft is 8½ inches long, made from hard wood that has been carefully shaped into a cylindrical form by rubbing it with quartzite or pumice, about three-eighths of an inch in diameter at the wider end, tapering slightly toward the point; the wider end has been ground into a tang that fits into the main shaft, and the joint is neatly wrapped with sinew. The main shaft is made from a cane stalk (Phragmites communis?), measuring 15 or 16 inches long, carefully chosen for size and well-straightened and smoothed; it is fletched with three evenly spaced wing feathers from a hawk or falcon, skillfully prepared by removing a thin strip of the rachis with the wider vexillum and securing it with sinew wrappings at both ends, with each feather about 5½ inches long. The nock is a simple rounded notch located just below a joint and supported by a sinew ferrule; there is no foot-plug. The preferred point is a piece of scrap hoop iron, shaped into an elongated triangle with protruding barbs, and a short tang or shank that fits into a shallow notch in the foreshaft, glued in with mesquite gum and tightly secured with sinew wrappings. A typical iron-point arrow, alongside a bow and quiver, is shown in plate XXX. Alternative points include crudely chipped stone (two examples are shown in figure 37) that are somewhat awkwardly attached to the foreshaft using mesquite gum and sinew wrapping; arrows used by boys and hunters targeting small game typically don’t have points, with the foreshaft tip sharpened and hardened by slight charring. In some arrows, especially those meant for war, the foreshaft is notched or loosely attached to the main shaft so it can separate from the main shaft and remain in the body of an enemy or prey. The foreshaft is often painted in a bright color (red is common), while the points and attachments of the “poisoned” arrows are coated with a greasy substance.

The aboriginal Seri arrow has undoubtedly been modified during the centuries since the coming of Cortés and Mendoza with their metal-armed troopers; yet certain inferences as to the indigenous form of the weapon are easily drawn from its construction and the homologies of its parts.

The native Seri arrow has definitely been changed over the centuries since Cortés and Mendoza arrived with their metal-armed soldiers; however, we can draw some conclusions about the original design of the weapon based on how it's built and the similarities in its parts.

The first feature of the artifact to attract attention is the relative clumsiness of attachment and frequent absence of points. The chipped-stone points are so rude as to be quite out of harmony with the otherwise delicately wrought and graceful arrow, while the attachment is strikingly rude; and it is still more noteworthy that the very name for stone arrowpoint was little understood at Costa Rica, and was obtained only after extended inquiry and repeated conferences among the older informants. Even the attachment of the effective points made from hoop-iron is bad constructionally; the sinew wrapping is carried around the entire blade in such manner as to sheathe the sharply ground edges and itself be cut on contact with firm tissue; and the fitting and wrapping are so rude as to be incongruous with the rest of the apparatus. On the whole the suggestion is strong that the arrowpoint is accultural—and this suggestion is further strengthened by the very existence of the practically functionless, and hence manifestly vestigial, hard-wood foreshaft. Turning to the structural homologies, the observer is at once struck with the parallelism running through the three most conspicuous compound artifacts found among the Seri, i. e., the harpoon, the fire-drill, and the arrow. All of these alike consist of two essential parts, main shaft and foreshaft; all are 199* akin in function even in the superficial view of the Caucasian, and are much more closely related in primitive thought—indeed the fire-drill is but a featherless and nockless arrow, with the foreshaft charred at its fire-giving tip; and all are closely linked in language and allied with other terms in such wise as practically to establish identity among them in the thinking of their lowly makers (though unfortunately the incomplete vocabularies extant are insufficient for full study of the linguistic homologies). Briefly the indications are that the harpoon was the primary device, and that its foreshaft was a tooth of an aquatic fish-eater like the seal, or perchance in some cases an os penis; that its lineal successor was a loose-head lance for use on sea and land, at first with the unaided hand and later with the atlatl, or throwing-stick (the lance being now extinct, though recorded by early visitors to Seriland); that the next artifact-generation in the direct line was represented by the arrow, foreshafted with hard wood or tooth, made light and graceful and loose-headed or not, according to needs, and by the substitution of bow for atlatl; and that a somewhat aberrant line was marked by the taming of fire, its reproduction by the modified arrow, and the differentiation of fire-stick from arrow and either atlatl or bow.

The first thing that stands out about the artifact is its awkward attachment and the frequent lack of points. The chipped-stone points are so crude that they clash with the otherwise delicately made and elegant arrow, while the attachment is especially rough; it’s even more surprising that the term for stone arrowpoint was not well understood in Costa Rica, and it was only obtained after extensive questioning and multiple discussions with older informants. Even the attachment of the functional points made from hoop iron is poorly constructed; the sinew wrapping goes around the entire blade, covering the sharply ground edges and gets cut when it comes into contact with tough tissue; the fitting and wrapping are so crude that they seem out of place with the rest of the equipment. Overall, it strongly suggests that the arrowpoint is not culturally integrated—and this idea is further supported by the presence of the nearly useless, clearly leftover, hard-wood foreshaft. Looking at the structural similarities, one immediately notices the parallels among the three most noticeable compound artifacts found with the Seri, namely the harpoon, the fire-drill, and the arrow. All of these consist of two key parts: the main shaft and the foreshaft; all serve similar functions even from a surface-level perspective of a Caucasian observer, and are much more interconnected in primitive thought—indeed, the fire-drill is essentially an arrow without feathers or a nock, with the foreshaft burned at its fire-starting tip; all are closely related in language and associated with other terms in a way that nearly establishes their identity in the minds of their humble creators (though unfortunately, the existing incomplete vocabularies are not enough for a full exploration of the linguistic connections). In short, the evidence suggests that the harpoon was the original tool, with its foreshaft being a tooth from an aquatic carnivore like a seal, or perhaps in some instances an os penis; that its linear successor was a detachable lance for use both at sea and on land, first used by hand and later with the atlatl, or throwing-stick (the lance is now extinct but was recorded by early visitors to Seriland); that the next generation of artifacts directly descended was represented by the arrow, foreshafted with hard wood or tooth, made light and agile and either loose-headed or not, depending on needs, and by the replacement of the atlatl with the bow; and that a somewhat divergent line appeared with the control of fire, its reproduction using the modified arrow, and the differentiation of fire-sticks from arrows and either the atlatl or the bow.

In tracing these stages in technologic growth, it is to be remembered that the Seri are so primitive as to betray some of the very beginnings of activital concepts; that to them zoic potencies are the paramount powers of the cosmos; that in their simple thought fire is a bestial rather than a physical phenomenon; that in their naive philosophy the production of devouring flame is of a kind with vital birth and a similitude of sexual reproduction; and that according to their notions the conquest of quarry, including fire, is made practicable only by aid of the mystical potencies of beasts and flames gained through invocatory use of symbols or actual organs.

In looking at these stages of technological growth, it’s important to remember that the Seri are so basic that they show some of the very earliest forms of vital concepts; to them, living forces are the greatest powers of the universe; in their simple thinking, fire is seen more as a wild force than a physical one; in their straightforward philosophy, the creation of consuming flames is similar to the birth of life and resembles sexual reproduction; and according to their beliefs, overcoming challenges, including fire, is only possible with the help of the mystical powers of animals and flames, which they harness through the use of symbols or actual body parts.

In the Seri tongue the term “fire-drill” is kaak, an indefinite generic meaning “kind” or “strong kind”, with an egocentric connotation (“Our-Strong-Kind”), as in the proper tribal designation Kun-kaak or Km-kaak; while the term for the nether fire-stick or hearth is either maam (“woman”, or more properly “mother”), or else (and more commonly) kaak-maam, which may be rendered “Kind-Mother”—the “Kind”, as among primitive folk generally, comprising both men and tutelary beasts, and in this case fire as the most mysterious of the beasts; there is thus a suggestive analogy between the designation for the fire-producing apparatus and that for the tribe itself. It should be noted that the zoic concept of fire is widespread among the more primitive peoples of various provinces, and sometimes persists in recognizable form in higher culture (witness the fire-breathing dragons of various mythologies, the “Red Flower” notion gathered in India by Kipling, etc.); also that the ascription of sex to the fire-sticks is prevalent among North American tribes, and at once helps to interpret the development of the fire-drill, fire-syringe, and other primitive devices, such, for example, as 200* those so fully described by Hough,276 and serves to explain the otherwise obscure genesis of the fire-sense, which must have accompanied and shaped that most significant of all steps in human progress, the conquest of fire.

In the Seri language, the term “fire-drill” is kaak, which has a vague meaning of “kind” or “strong kind,” with a personal twist (“Our-Strong-Kind”), similar to the tribal name Kun-kaak or Km-kaak; meanwhile, the term for the lower fire-stick or hearth is either maam (“woman,” or more accurately “mother”), or more commonly kaak-maam, meaning “Kind-Mother”—the “Kind,” as is the case among primitive cultures, includes both men and protective animals, and in this instance, fire is seen as the most mysterious of these beings. This creates an interesting parallel between the name for the fire-making tool and that of the tribe itself. It’s important to point out that the concept of fire as a living entity is common among many primitive peoples in various regions and occasionally remains recognizable in advanced cultures (as seen in the fire-breathing dragons of different mythologies, the “Red Flower” idea collected in India by Kipling, etc.); also, ascribing gender to fire-sticks is widespread among North American tribes, which helps understand the evolution of the fire-drill, fire-syringe, and other primitive tools, such as those thoroughly described by Hough, 276 and clarifies the otherwise unclear origins of the fire-sense, which must have been foundational in shaping one of humanity's most crucial advancements: the mastery of fire.

The modern coordinate of the Seri arrow is the bow, made preferably from a straight and slender branch of the palo blanco. A typical specimen is illustrated in plate XXX; it is 4 feet 9½ inches long, with the outer face convex and the inner face flat; greatest width 1¾ inches, narrowed to 1⅛ inches at the hand-hold; thickness at the hand-hold 1 inch, thinning to five-eighths inch at 8 inches from this point; tapering gradually in both dimensions toward the extremities, which are rudely notched to receive the cord (of mesquite-root fiber). The specimen illustrated has been cracked and repaired in two places; in one place the repair was effected by a rough wrapping of sinew, and in the other by slipping over the wood a natural sheath of rawhide from the leg of a deer. The specimen is of added interest in that it combines bow and nether fire-stick (“Strong-Kind-Mother”), one of the friction holes being worn out to the notched margin, and the other remaining in usable condition, as shown in the enlarged marginal drawing.277

The modern version of the Seri arrow is the bow, ideally made from a straight and slim branch of palo blanco. A typical example is shown in plate XXX; it measures 4 feet 9½ inches in length, with the outer face curved and the inner face flat; its widest point is 1¾ inches, tapering to 1⅛ inches at the grip; the thickness at the grip is 1 inch, reducing to five-eighths of an inch 8 inches from that point; it gradually narrows in both directions toward the ends, which are roughly notched to hold the cord made from mesquite-root fiber. The illustrated specimen has been cracked and repaired in two places; one repair involves a rough wrapping of sinew, while the other features a natural sheath of rawhide from a deer leg slipped over the wood. This specimen is particularly interesting because it includes both the bow and a lower fire-stick (“Strong-Kind-Mother”), with one of the friction holes worn down to the notched edge, while the other remains usable, as indicated in the enlarged drawing on the margin.277

Compared with the delicately finished and graceful arrow, the typical bow is a rude and clumsy device; it displays little skill in the selection and shaping of material, and evidently involves little labor in manufacture—indeed, the indications are that more actual labor is spent in the construction of a single arrow than in the making of a bow, while the arrow-making is expert work, betokening craft of a high order, and the bow-making little more than simple handiwork of the lowest order. The comparison affords some indication of the genesis of Seri archery, and at the same time corroborates the independent suggestion that the arrow is of so much greater antiquity than the bow as to represent a distinct stage in cultural development—though the precise cultural significance of the bow is not easily ascertained.

Compared to the finely crafted and elegant arrow, the typical bow is a rough and clumsy tool; it shows minimal skill in choosing and shaping materials and clearly requires little effort to make—actually, it's likely that more real work goes into creating a single arrow than into making a bow, with arrow-making being skilled work that reflects a high level of craftsmanship, whereas bow-making is hardly more than basic manual labor. This comparison gives some insight into the origins of Seri archery and also supports the idea that the arrow is significantly older than the bow, representing a distinct stage in cultural evolution—although the exact cultural importance of the bow is hard to determine.

Efforts were made to have different Seri warriors at Costa Rica in 1894 assume the normal archery attitude, with but moderate success, the best pose obtained (illustrated in plate XXVIII) being manifestly unnatural and a mere reflection of the attitude in the mind of the Caucasian poser; while the results of inquiries served only to indicate that the normal archery attitude was purposely avoided for reasons not ascertained. Fortunately another observer was more successful: in the course of the United States hydrographic surveys in 1873, Commander (now Admiral) Dewey received several visits from Seri warriors on board the Narragansett; and on the occasion of one of these visits, Mr Hector von Bayer, of the hydrographic party, caught a photograph of an archer in the act of drawing his bow. The negative was accidentally 201* shattered, and no prints are known to have been made from it; but the fragments were carefully joined, and were kindly transferred to the Bureau by Mr Von Bayer in 1897, and from them plate XXIX was carefully drawn. The posture (partly concealed by the drapery) is extraordinary, being quite beyond the reach of the average human, and impossible of maintenance for any considerable interval even by the well-wonted Seri. The posture itself partly explains the difficulty of inducing the warriors at Costa Rica to assume it, since it is essentially a fleeting one, and indeed but a part of a continuous and stressful action—it is no less difficult to assume, or to catch in the camera, than the typical attitude of a baseball pitcher in action. The posture thus fortunately caught is quite in accord with the accounts of Seri archery from the esoteric side given by Mashém, and with the exoteric observations of Señor Encinas, Don Andrés, and others; for all accounts agree in indicating that the archer commonly rests inert and moveless as the watching feline up to a critical instant, then springs into movement as swiftly as the leaping jaguar, and hurls, rather than shoots, one, two, or three arrows before rushing in to the death or skulking to cover as the issue may require.

Efforts were made to have different Seri warriors in Costa Rica in 1894 take the typical archery stance, with only moderate success. The best pose obtained (shown in plate XXVIII) was clearly unnatural and a mere reflection of the stance imagined by the Caucasian poser. Inquiries indicated that the normal archery position was intentionally avoided for unknown reasons. Fortunately, another observer had better luck: during the United States hydrographic surveys in 1873, Commander (now Admiral) Dewey received several visits from Seri warriors aboard the Narragansett. On one of these occasions, Mr. Hector von Bayer from the hydrographic team captured a photograph of an archer drawing his bow. The negative was accidentally shattered, and no prints are known to have been made from it; however, the fragments were carefully reassembled and kindly transferred to the Bureau by Mr. Von Bayer in 1897, and from them, plate XXIX was carefully recreated. The posture (partly hidden by the drapery) is extraordinary, far beyond what an average person can achieve, and it's impossible to hold for any significant time, even for the practiced Seri. This posture partly explains the challenge of getting the warriors in Costa Rica to adopt it since it is essentially fleeting and merely part of a continuous, intense action—it's as difficult to capture as the typical position of a baseball pitcher in motion. The posture that was fortuitously captured aligns well with the accounts of Seri archery from the esoteric perspective given by Mashém, as well as with the external observations of Señor Encinas, Don Andrés, and others; all reports indicate that the archer typically remains still and motionless like a watching feline until a critical moment, then springs into action as swiftly as a leaping jaguar, launching one, two, or three arrows before either rushing to finish the kill or retreating for cover, depending on the situation.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXVIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXVIII

SERI ARCHER AT REST

SERI ARCHER RELAXING

The Seri archery habit is in every way consistent with the general habits of the tribe, alike in the chase and in warfare, in which the tribesmen, actuated by the fierce blood-craze common to carnivores, either leap on their prey with purpling eyes and gnashing teeth, or beat quick and stealthy retreat; and it is especially significant in the light thrown on the bow as a device for swift and vigorous rather than accurate offense, an apparatus for lengthening the arm still more than does the harpoon, and at the same time strengthening and intensifying its stroke. The quick-changing attitudes of half hurling are equally suggestive of the use of the atlatl, and support Cushing’s hypothesis278 that the bow was derived from the corded throwing-stick. While the critical posture of Seri archery is unique in degree if not in kind in the western hemisphere, so far as is known, an approximation to it (illustrated in fig. 22) has been observed in Central Africa.279 On the whole the Seri mode of using the bow, like its crude form and rude finish, indicates that it is a relatively new and ill-developed artifact, possibly accultural though more probably joined indigenously with the archaic arrow to beget a highly effective device for food-getting as well as for warfare; while the genetic stages are still displayed not only in the homologies between arrow and harpoon, but by the common functions of both arrow and bow with the fire-sticks.

The Seri archery style aligns perfectly with the overall practices of the tribe, both in hunting and in battle. The tribespeople, driven by a primal bloodlust typical of carnivores, either pounce on their prey with fierce eyes and bared teeth or retreat quickly and stealthily. This is particularly important when considering the bow as a tool designed for swift and powerful attacks rather than precision, extending the reach of the arm more than the harpoon does, while also enhancing and intensifying its impact. The rapidly changing stances of half-throwing suggest the use of the atlatl and support Cushing’s theory that the bow evolved from the corded throwing-stick. While the distinctive position of Seri archery is unique in the western hemisphere, as far as we know, a similar approach (shown in fig. 22) has been noted in Central Africa. Overall, the Seri's way of using the bow, along with its simple design and rough craftsmanship, suggests it is a relatively recent and underdeveloped tool, possibly influenced by other cultures but more likely developed independently alongside the primitive arrow to create an effective means for hunting and warfare. The evolutionary connections are still evident not only in the similarities between the arrow and the harpoon but also in the shared functions of the arrow and the bow with the fire-sticks.

Concordantly, as indicated by the use of the archery apparatus, the individual taking of large game is effected either by stealthy stalking or by patient ambuscade ended by a sudden rush; when, if the chase is successful, the quarry is rent and consumed as at the finish of the 202* semiceremonial collective chase. The fleet but wary antelope, the pugnacious peccary, the wandering puma and jaguar, and the mountain sheep of the rocky fastnesses, are among the favorite objects of this style of chase; while the larger land birds and some of the water-fowl are taken in similar fashion.

Accordingly, as shown by the use of the bow and arrow, hunting large game is done either by quietly stalking the animal or by patiently lying in wait, followed by a sudden sprint; if the hunt is successful, the animal is killed and consumed just like at the end of the somewhat formal group hunt. The quick but cautious antelope, the aggressive peccary, the roaming puma and jaguar, and the mountain sheep from rocky areas are some of the preferred targets of this hunting method; larger land birds and some waterfowl are also caught in a similar way.

Fig. 22—African archery posture.

Fig. 22—African archery stance.

The smaller land game comprises a tortoise or two, all the local snakes and lizards, and a good many insects, besides various birds, including hawks and owls, as well as the eaters of seeds and insects. The crow and vulture are also classed as edible, though they are rare in Seriland, probably because of the effective scavengering of the province by its human residents. It is a significant fact that the 203* smaller rodents, especially the long-tail nocturnal squirrel, are excluded from the Seri menu by a rigidly observed tabu of undiscovered meaning. A general consequence of this tabu is readily observed on entering Seriland; there is a notable rarity of the serpents, the high-colored and swift efts, and the logy lizards and dull phrynosomas so abundant in neighboring deserts, as well as of song birds and their nests; and this dearth is coupled with a still more notable abundance of the rodents, which have increased and multiplied throughout Seriland so abundantly that their burrows honeycomb hundreds of square miles of territory. A special consequence of the tabu is found in the fact that the myriad squirrel tunnels have rendered much of the territory impassable for horses and nearly so for pedestrians, and have thereby served to repel invaders and enable the jealous tribesmen to protect their principality against the hated alien. Seriland and the Seri are remarkable for illustrations of the interdependence between a primitive folk and their environment; but none of the relations are more striking than that exemplified by the timid nocturnal rodent, which, protected by a faith, has not only risen to the leading place in the local fauna, but has rewarded its protectors by protecting their territory for centuries.

The smaller land game includes a tortoise or two, all the local snakes and lizards, and a lot of insects, as well as various birds, including hawks and owls, along with seed and insect eaters. Crows and vultures are also considered edible, although they’re rare in Seriland, likely due to efficient scavenging by the human inhabitants. It’s noteworthy that smaller rodents, particularly the long-tailed nocturnal squirrel, are not eaten by the Seris because of a strict taboo with an undiscovered meaning. A visible result of this taboo is evident upon entering Seriland; there’s a noticeable scarcity of snakes, brightly colored and quick efts, sluggish lizards, and dull phrynosomas that are abundant in nearby deserts, as well as songbirds and their nests. This lack is paired with a remarkable abundance of rodents, which have spread throughout Seriland to the point where their burrows honeycomb hundreds of square miles. A specific consequence of the taboo is that the many squirrel tunnels have made much of the land difficult to navigate for horses and almost for pedestrians, thereby deterring invaders and allowing the protective tribes to guard their territory against outsiders. Seriland and the Seris exemplify the interdependence between a primitive people and their environment; however, none of these connections are more striking than that of the timid nocturnal rodent, which, shielded by a belief, has not only taken the dominant spot in the local wildlife but has also ensured the protection of their territory for centuries.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXIX

SERI ARCHER AT ATTENTION

SERI ARCHER IN FOCUS

In both the collective and the strategic chase, constant advantage is taken of weakness and incapacity, whether temporary or permanent, of the prospective quarry; so that diseased and wounded as well as sluggish and stupid animals are eliminated. The effect of this policy on the fauna is undoubtedly to extinguish the less capable species and to stimulate and improve the more capable; i. e., the presence of the human factor merely intensifies the bitter struggle for existence in which the subhuman things of this desert province are engaged. At the same time, the entrance of the human folk into the struggle characteristic of subhuman species serves to bar them from one of the most helpful ways to the advancement of their kind—i. e., the way leading through cotoleration with animals to perfected zooculture. The most avidly sought weaklings in the Seri chase are the helpless young, and the heavily gravid dams which are pursued and rent to fragments with a horrid fury doubtless reflecting the practical certainty of capture and the exceptionally succulent tidbits afforded by the fetal flesh; naturally the cruel custom reacts on habitual thought in such wise that the very sight of pregnancy or travail or newborn helplessness awakens slumbering blood-thirst and impels to ferocious slaughter. To such custom and deep-planted mental habit may be ascribed some of the most shocking barbarities in the history of Seri rapine, tragedies too terrible for repetition save in bated breath of survivors, yet explaining the utter horror in which the Seri marauder is held on his own frontier. At the same time the hunting custom and the mental habit explain the blindness of the Seri to the rudiments of zooculture, and clarify their intolerance of all animal associates, save the sly coyote that habitually 204* hides its travail and suckling in the wilderness, and perhaps the deified pelican.280

In both collective and strategic hunts, people constantly take advantage of the weaknesses and limitations—whether temporary or permanent—of their intended prey. This means that sick, injured, sluggish, or foolish animals are eliminated. The result of this approach on wildlife is clearly to wipe out the less capable species and to foster the survival and improvement of the more capable ones. In other words, the presence of humans only intensifies the harsh competition for survival among the lesser creatures in this unforgiving environment. Meanwhile, by entering into the struggle typical of less capable species, humans are blocking themselves from one of the most effective paths to progress—namely, the possibility of developing a harmonious relationship with animals that could lead to advanced animal husbandry. The weaklings most sought after in the Seri hunts are defenseless young animals and pregnant females, which are ruthlessly pursued and torn apart, reflecting both the high likelihood of capture and the exceptional desirability of the fetal meat. Naturally, this cruel practice influences the mindset so that the mere sight of pregnancy, childbirth, or helpless newborns stirs up dormant bloodlust and leads to brutal killings. Such customs and deeply rooted mental habits account for some of the most shocking atrocities in the history of Seri violence—tragedies too horrific to recount openly except in the hushed tones of survivors, yet they explain the sheer horror that the Seri marauders instill in their own territory. At the same time, these hunting customs and mental habits clarify why the Seri are blind to the basics of animal husbandry and reveal their intolerance of all animal companions, except for the cunning coyote that discreetly conceals its births and nursing in the wild, and perhaps the revered pelican. 204*

Parallel to the chase of the larger land game is the hunting of horses and other imported stock; for the animals are regarded in no other light than that of easy quarry. The horses of the Seri frontier, like those of wild ranges generally, are strongly gregarious, and the herds are well regimented under recognized leaders, so that the chase of their kind is necessarily collective on the part of both hunters and game; and the favorite method is for a considerable group of either warriors or women to surround the entire herd, or a band cut out from it, “mill” them (i. e., set them running in a gradually contracting circle) and occasionally dash on an animal, promising by reason of exceptional fatness or gravidness. The warrior’s customary clutch is by the mane or foretop with one hand and the muzzle with the other, with his weight thrown largely on the neck, when a quick wrench throws the animal, and, if all goes well, breaks its neck;281 while the huntress commonly aims to stun the animal with a blow from her hupf. In either case the disposition of the carcass is similar to that of other large quarry, save that thought is given to the danger of ensuing attack by vaqueros; so that it is customary to consume at once only the blood and pluck, and if time permits the paunch and intestines with their contents, and then to rend the remainder into quarters, which warriors or even women shoulder and rush toward their stronghold. Burros (which, next to the green turtle, afford the favorite Seri food) and horned cattle are commonly stalked and slain, or, at least, wounded with arrows, so that it is commonly the stragglers that are picked off; though sometimes several animals are either milled or rushed, and thrown by a 205* strong wrench on the horns or stunned with a blow of war-club or hupf, as conditions may demand. Straggling swine and wandering dogs are occasionally ambushed or stalked and transfixed with arrows, torn hurriedly into fragments, or shouldered and carried off struggling, as exigency may require; while sheep and goats are practically barred from the entire Seri frontier because of their utter helplessness in the face of so hardy huntsmen.

Parallel to the pursuit of larger game is the hunting of horses and other imported livestock, as these animals are seen as easy targets. The horses along the Seri frontier, like those in wild ranges, tend to be very social, forming herds that follow established leaders. This means that hunting them requires teamwork from both the hunters and the game. The preferred method involves a significant group of either warriors or women surrounding the entire herd or a selected band, causing them to run in a gradually tightening circle, and occasionally rushing towards one particularly fat or pregnant animal. Typically, a warrior grabs the mane or forelock with one hand and the muzzle with the other, using his weight to pull the horse down, ideally breaking its neck in the process; meanwhile, a huntress usually tries to stun the animal with a blow from her club. In either case, the handling of the carcass is similar to that of other large game, but care is taken to avoid potential attacks from cowboys. Therefore, it’s customary to immediately consume just the blood and internal organs, and if there’s enough time, the stomach and intestines along with their contents, before dividing the rest into quarters that warriors or even women can carry back to their camp. Burros (which, next to the green turtle, are a favorite food for the Seri) and horned cattle are often stalked and killed or at least wounded with arrows, with stragglers usually being targeted. Occasionally, several animals are rounded up or rushed and then thrown down with a strong pull on their horns or stunned with a club or weapon, depending on the circumstances. Stray pigs and wandering dogs are sometimes ambushed or stalked and then shot with arrows, quickly cut into pieces, or carried off while struggling, as the situation demands; while sheep and goats are almost entirely excluded from the Seri frontier due to their inability to defend themselves against such tough hunters.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXX

SERI BOW, ARROW, AND QUIVER

SERI bow, arrow, and quiver

The quantity of stock consumed by the Seri varies greatly with the policy of rancheros and vaqueros. At different times during the last two and a half centuries it has been estimated that the chief portion of the subsistence of the tribe was derived from stolen stock, and it is probable that during the early period of the Encinas régime this estimate was fair; but under the Draconian rule of a Seri head for each head of slaughtered stock, the consumption is reduced to a few dozen head annually, including superannuated, crippled, and diseased animals unable to keep up with the herds, those bogged in Playa Noriega and other basins during freshets, the stallions and bulls slain in strife for leadership of their bands, and the festering or semimummied carcasses gladly turned over by idle rancheros on the chance visits of Seri bands to the frontier (such as the specimen in the photograph reproduced in figure 23).

The amount of livestock used by the Seri varies significantly depending on the policies of ranchers and cowboys. Over the last two and a half centuries, it's been estimated that a large part of the tribe's food came from stolen livestock, and it's likely that this estimate was accurate during the early years of the Encinas rule. However, under the strict control of a Seri leader for each head of cattle killed, the number consumed has dropped to just a few dozen each year. This includes old, injured, and sick animals that can't keep up with the herds, those stuck in Playa Noriega and other low areas during floods, the stallions and bulls killed in fights for dominance, and the decaying or partially preserved carcasses readily given by idle ranchers during the occasional visits of Seri groups to the frontier (like the example shown in the photograph in figure 23).

Fig. 23—Desiccated pork.

Fig. 23—Dried pork.

No special devices have been developed in connection with the chase for stock, nor has material progress been made in acquiring Caucasian devices. There are, indeed, indications of a disposition to use 206* knives in severing the tough integuments and tendons of horses and kine, although the tendency has not yet resulted (as elsewhere noted, ante, pp. 152*-154*) in the development of a knife-sense; and although boys on the frontier play at roping dogs, no effort to use the riata or any form of rope is made in the actual chase. As naively explained by Mashém amid approving grunts from his clan-mates, they have no time for ropes or knives when hungry.

No special tools have been created for hunting stock, nor has any significant progress been made in obtaining Caucasian tools. There are, however, signs that people are starting to use 206* knives to cut through the tough skin and tendons of horses and cattle, although this has not yet led (as previously mentioned, ante, pp. 152*-154*) to the development of a knife-use skill; and while boys on the frontier pretend to rope dogs, there’s no actual effort to use the rope or any kind of lasso during the hunt. As Mashém innocently pointed out with nods of agreement from his friends, they don’t have time for ropes or knives when they're hungry.


A quantitatively unimportant yet by no means negligible fraction of the normal diet of Seriland is vegetal; and while the sources of vegetal food are many and diverse, the chief constituent is a single product characteristic of American deserts, viz., the tuna, or prickly pear.

A quantitatively insignificant but still noteworthy part of the regular diet in Seriland is plant-based; and although there are many different sources of plant food, the main component is a single product that's typical of American deserts, namely, the tuna or prickly pear.

All of the cacti of the region yield tunas in considerable quantity. The pitahaya is perhaps the most abundant producer, and its name is often given to the fruit; the huge saguaro affords an enormous annual yield, and the still more gigantic saguesa is even more prolific, especially in its immense forests along the eastern base of Sierra Seri; the cina adds materially to the aggregate product, while the nopal, or common prickly pear, contributes a quota acquiring importance from the facility with which it may be harvested. The fruits of all these cacti are sometimes classed as sweet tunas, in contradistinction from the sour tunas yielded in great abundance by the cholla and consumed with avidity by stock, though seldom eaten by men. The edible tunas average about the size of lemons, and resemble figs save that their skin is beset with prickles. The portion eaten is a luscious pulp, filled with minute seeds like those of the fig save that they are too hard for mastication or digestion, its flavor ranging from the sickly sweet of the overcultivated fig to a pleasant acidity. While occasional tunas may be found at any time during the year, the normal harvest occurs about midsummer, or shortly before the July-August humid season, and lasts for several weeks. During the height of the season the clans withdraw from the coast and give undivided attention to the collection and consumption of the fruits, gorging them in such quantities that, according to the testimony of the vaqueros, they are fattened beyond recognition. Commonly the tunas are eaten just as they are gathered, and the families and larger bands move about from pitahaya to pitahaya and from valley to valley in a slovenly chase of this natural harvest, until waning supply and cloying appetite drive them back to the severer chase of turtle and pelican. The fruit is not cooked, and never preserved save in the noisome way of nature, and is rarely transported in quantities or over distances of industrial importance; yet the product may have some connection with the basketry of the tribe. The devices for collecting the fruits, especially from the lofty saguaro and saguesa, are mere improvisations of harpoon shafts, paloblanco branches, or chance cane-stalks carried primarily for arrow-making or balsa construction. 207* There is no such well-studied and semiceremonial apparatus for tuna gathering as, for example, the Papago device made from the ribs of the dead saguaro in accordance with traditional formula.

All the cacti in the region produce a lot of tunas. The pitahaya is probably the most prolific producer, and people often refer to the fruit by its name. The huge saguaro yields a massive annual amount, and the even larger saguesa is even more productive, especially in its vast forests along the eastern side of Sierra Seri. The cina also contributes significantly to the overall harvest, while the nopal, or common prickly pear, has a key role because it's so easy to pick. The fruits from all these cacti are sometimes labeled as sweet tunas, distinguishing them from the sour tunas produced in large quantities by the cholla, which livestock devour eagerly but people seldom eat. The edible tunas are roughly the size of lemons and look like figs, except their skin is covered in prickles. The edible part is a delicious pulp filled with tiny seeds like those of figs, but too hard to chew or digest, with flavors ranging from the overly sweet taste of cultivated figs to a nice acidity. While you might find occasional tunas at any time of the year, the main harvest happens around midsummer, just before the humid season in July-August, and lasts for several weeks. During peak season, communities leave the coast and focus entirely on collecting and eating the fruits, gorging themselves in such amounts that, according to the vaqueros, they become unrecognizably fat. Typically, tunas are eaten right after they're picked, and families and larger groups wander from pitahaya to pitahaya and from valley to valley in a haphazard pursuit of this natural harvest, until the dwindling supply and overwhelming fullness drive them back to the harder task of hunting turtle and pelican. The fruit isn't cooked or preserved in any way except for what nature does, and is rarely transported in large quantities or over significant distances; however, it may have some ties to the tribe's basketry. The tools for picking the fruits, especially from the tall saguaro and saguesa, are just makeshift items like harpoon shafts, paloblanco branches, or random cane stalks carried primarily for making arrows or constructing balsas. 207* There isn't any well-defined or semi-ceremonial equipment for gathering tunas like, for example, the Papago tool made from the ribs of dead saguaros following traditional methods.

Perhaps second in importance among the vegetal constituents of Seri diet is the mesquite bean, which is gathered in random fashion whenever a well-loaded tree is found and other conditions favor. The woody beans and still woodier pods are roughly pulverized by pounding with the hupf on any convenient stone used as an ahst (metate or mortar), or, if suitable stones are not at hand, they are carried in baskets or improvised bags to the nearest shore or other place at which stones may be found. The half-ground grist is winnowed in the ordinary way of tossing in a basket; and the grinding and winnowing continue alternately until a fairly uniform bean meal is obtained. So far as was actually observed this is eaten raw, either dry in small pinches or, more commonly, stirred in water to form a thin atole; but expressions at Costa Rica indicated that the meal is sometimes stirred in boiling water or pot-liquor, and thus partially cooked, in times of rest and plenty.

One of the most important plant foods in the Seri diet is the mesquite bean, which is gathered randomly whenever a well-filled tree is found and other conditions are right. The tough beans and even tougher pods are roughly crushed by pounding with a wooden tool called hupf on any convenient stone used as an ahst (metate or mortar). If there aren't suitable stones nearby, they are carried in baskets or makeshift bags to the nearest shore or another place where stones can be found. The coarsely ground mixture is winnowed by tossing it in a basket, and the grinding and winnowing continue back and forth until a fairly consistent bean meal is achieved. From what was observed, this meal is eaten raw, either dry in small pinches or more commonly mixed with water to create a thin atole. However, reports from Costa Rica suggest that sometimes the meal is mixed in boiling water or pot-liquor, partly cooking it during times of rest and abundance.

Other vegetal products used as food comprise a variety of seeds collected from sedges and grasses growing about the mud-flats of Laguna La Cruz and other portions of the province, as well as the seeds and nuts of the scant shrubbery of shores and mountains; while a local seaweed or kelp is eaten in small quantity, apparently as a condiment, and is sometimes carried on journeys even as far as Costa Rica, where specimens were obtained in 1894.

Other plant-based foods include a variety of seeds gathered from sedges and grasses found around the mud-flats of Laguna La Cruz and other areas of the province, as well as the seeds and nuts from the sparse bushes along the shores and mountains. A local seaweed or kelp is also consumed in small amounts, seemingly as a seasoning, and is sometimes taken on trips as far as Costa Rica, where samples were collected in 1894.

It is of interest to note that one of the most distinctive constituents of the Sonoran flora, and one intimately connected with human life in the great neighboring province of Papagueria, is of negligible rarity in Seriland; this is the visnaga (Echinocactus, probably of two or three species), the thorniest of the cacti and the only one containing consumable pulp and sap. This peculiar plant is of no small interest in itself as a striking example of the inverse relation between protective devices of chemical sort (culminating in acrid, offensive, or toxic juices) and the mechanical armaments so characteristic of desert plants;282 it is of still deeper interest economically as the sole source of water over broad expanses of the desert, and one to which hundreds of pioneers and travelers have been indebted for their lives; and it is of interest, too, as a factor of Papago faith, in which the visnaga ranks among the richer guerdons of the rain gods. Throughout most of Papagueria this cactus is fairly abundant; usually there are several specimens to the square mile of suitable soil (it is not found in playas or on the ruggeder sierras), so that it is always within reach of the sagacious traveler; but it diminishes in abundance toward the borders of Seriland, and not more than a dozen examples were found in the portions of that province traversed by the 1895 expedition. Its rare occurrence, 208* chiefly in the form of wounded and dwarfed specimens, seems to indicate that its original range comprised all Seriland; while its dearth suggests destruction nearly to the verge of extinction by improvident generations better armed with their hupfs and harpoons and shell-cups than the subhuman beasts against whom the plant is so well protected.

It's interesting to point out that one of the most unique parts of the Sonoran plant life, closely linked to human life in the nearby region of Papagueria, is surprisingly common in Seriland; this is the visnaga (Echinocactus, likely of two or three species), the spiniest of the cacti and the only one that has edible pulp and sap. This unusual plant is notably fascinating as a prime example of the contrasting relationship between chemical defenses (which result in bitter, unpleasant, or toxic juices) and the physical defenses typical of desert plants;282 it's even more economically important as the only source of water across large stretches of the desert, which has saved the lives of countless pioneers and travelers. It also holds significance in Papago beliefs, where the visnaga is considered one of the more valuable gifts from the rain gods. In most of Papagueria, this cactus is relatively plentiful; there are usually several specimens per square mile of suitable soil (it doesn't grow in playas or on rugged mountain ranges), making it easily accessible to clever travelers. However, it becomes less common near the edges of Seriland, with only about a dozen found in the areas of that province explored by the 1895 expedition. Its rarity, mostly seen in the form of damaged and stunted specimens, suggests that its original range included all of Seriland, while its scarcity hints at near extinction due to careless generations armed with their hupfs, harpoons, and shell-cups, outmatching the plant's defenses against the natural threats it faced.


Aside from the universally used hupf and ahst (which may be regarded as differentiated implements or tools), the only special device used in connection with vegetal food is the basket, or, rather, basketry tray (illustrated in figure 24). This ware is of the widespread coil type so characteristic of southwestern tribes. The coil is a wisp of stems and splints of a fibrous yet spongy shrub, apparently torote; and the woof consists of paloblanco (?) splints deftly intertwined by aid of an awl. The construction is fairly neat and remarkably uniform; the coiled wisps vary somewhat in size, both intentionally and inadvertently, ranging from an average of three-eighths of an inch toward the bottoms of the larger specimens to half that diameter in the smaller specimens and toward the margins of the larger. The initial coil starts in an indefinite knot, rather than a button, at the center; and the spiral is continuous throughout, the final coil being quite deftly worked out to a single splint smoothly stitched to the next lower spiral with the woof splints. The ware is practically water-tight, remarkably strong and resilient, and quite durable in the dry climate of Seriland. Ordinarily the basket is abandoned when the bottom decays or breaks, but an ancient specimen obtained on Isla Tiburon was roughly rebottomed with a patch of sealskin attached by means of sinew. The baskets are notably uniform in shape, though the size varies from 8 or 9 inches to fully 17 inches in diameter.

Aside from the commonly used hupf and ahst (which can be seen as different tools), the only special item used for plant-based food is the basket, or more accurately, the basketry tray (shown in figure 24). This item is of the well-known coil type typical of southwestern tribes. The coil is made from stems and splints of a fibrous yet spongy shrub, likely torote, and the weft consists of paloblanco (?) splints skillfully woven together using an awl. The construction is tidy and impressively consistent; the coiled wisps vary slightly in size, both intentionally and by chance, ranging from an average of three-eighths of an inch near the bottom of the larger baskets to half that size in the smaller ones and along the edges of the larger. The first coil begins in an indefinite knot instead of a button at the center, and the spiral continues throughout, with the final coil neatly worked out to a single splint smoothly stitched to the next lower spiral with the weft splints. The basket is almost water-tight, exceptionally strong and flexible, and very durable in the dry climate of Seriland. Generally, the basket is discarded when the bottom wears out or breaks, but an ancient basket found on Isla Tiburon was roughly repaired with a patch of sealskin attached using sinew. The baskets are notably consistent in shape, though their sizes range from 8 or 9 inches to as much as 17 inches in diameter.

Fig. 24—Seri basket.

Fig. 24—Seri basket.

The most striking feature of the Seri basketry, as of the pottery, is 209* extreme lightness in proportion to capacity, a quality due to the spongy character of the torote coil and to the thinness of the splints used in the woof. The inside dimensions, weight, and dry-measure capacity (filled to the level of the brim with rice) of two typical specimens approaching extremes in size are indicated in the accompanying table. As noted elsewhere, the ware is absolutely without decorative devices in weave, paint, or form; it is baldly utilitarian, a model of economy in material and in the balance between structure and function, approaching in this respect the thin-walled canteen-olla, the graceful balsa, and the light but effective harpoon. The structural correspondence of the ware to a widespread type and its limited use among the tribe suggest an accultural origin for the Seri basketry; but the delicate adjustment of means to ends in the manufacture and the strictly local character of the material quite as strongly suggest an indigenous development.

The most striking aspect of Seri basketry, just like their pottery, is its remarkable lightness relative to its capacity. This quality comes from the spongy texture of the torote coil and the thinness of the splints used in the weft. The inside dimensions, weight, and dry-measure capacity (filled to the brim with rice) of two typical examples, which represent extremes in size, are shown in the accompanying table. As mentioned elsewhere, the items have no decorative features in their weave, paint, or form; they are purely practical and exemplify an efficient use of materials and a balance between structure and function. This is similar to the thin-walled canteen-olla, the elegant balsa, and the lightweight yet effective harpoon. The similarity of these items to a widespread type and their limited use within the tribe suggest that Seri basketry may have originated from outside influences; however, the precise alignment of methods to objectives in their production and the distinctly local materials strongly indicate an indigenous development.

Museum No. Diameter Depth Weight Capacity
174528 38 cm. (15 in.) 9.5 cm. (3¾ in.) 482g. (17oz.) 6.25 l. (6.6 qt.)
174528a 23 cm. (9 in.) 5.0cm. (2 in.) 142 g. (5oz.) 1 l. (1.06 qt.)

It is impossible to portray justly the food habits of the Seri without some reference to a systematic scatophagy, which seems to possess fiducial as well as economic features. In its simplest aspect this custom is connected with the tuna harvests; the fruits are eaten in enormous quantity, and are imperfectly digested, the hard-coated seeds especially passing through the system unchanged; the feces containing these seeds are preserved with some care, and after the harvest is passed the hoard (desiccated, of course, in the dry climate) is ground between hupf and ahst, and winnowed in baskets precisely as are the mesquite beans; and the product is then eaten either dry or in the form of atole like the mesquite meal. In superficial view this food factor is the precise homologue of the “second harvest” of the California Indians as described by Clavigero, Baegert,283 and others; but it gains importance, among 210* the Seri at least, as the sole method of storing or preserving food-supplies, and hence as the germ of industrial economy out of which a 211* feeble thrift-sense may be regarded as emerging. And the rise of thrift in Seriland, like esthetic and industrial beginnings generally, is shaped 212* by faith and attendant ceremony; for the doubly consumed food is credited with intensified powers and virtues, and held to be specially potent in the relief of hunger and in giving endurance for the hard warpath or prolonged chase; it is—and makes—very strong (“mucho fuerte”), in the laconic and confident explanation of Mashém. Incongruous as the custom is to higher culture, it finds natural suggestion in the everyday habits of the tribe, who are wonted not only to the eating of animal entrails in raw and uncleaned condition, but especially to the relief of the sharpest pangs of hunger by means of the soft structures and their semiassimilated contents—an association of much influence in primitive thought. Concordantly with the custom and the faith grown out of it, the excreta in general take a prominent place in the Seri mind; the use of urine in ablution, etc., is little understood and may be passed over; but all bony feces—and it may be noted that the “sign” of the Seri more resembles that of wolves or snake-eating swine than that of men—following gorges of large quarry are customarily located and kept in mind for recourse in time of ensuing shortage, when the mass is ground on the ahst and reconsumed; and even the ordinary discharge is preserved during the seasons of less reliable food-supply.

It's impossible to accurately describe the food habits of the Seri without mentioning their systematic scatophagy, which has both cultural and economic aspects. At its most basic level, this custom is linked to tuna harvests; they consume an enormous amount of fruit that isn’t fully digested, particularly the hard seeds that pass through their system unchanged. These feces, which contain the seeds, are carefully preserved, and once the harvest is over, the stored material (dried in the dry climate) is ground between stones and winnowed in baskets, just like mesquite beans. The end product is then eaten either dry or as atole, similar to mesquite meal. On the surface, this food practice is similar to the “second harvest” of California Indians as described by Clavigero, Baegert, and others; however, it holds greater significance for the Seri as the only means of storing or preserving food supplies and, consequently, as the foundation of an industrial economy from which a minimal sense of thrift may arise. The development of thrift in Seriland, much like aesthetic and industrial beginnings in general, is influenced by faith and accompanying ceremonies; the food that goes through this process is believed to have enhanced powers and benefits, thought to be particularly effective in alleviating hunger and providing stamina for tough journeys or long hunts; it is—and makes—very strong (“mucho fuerte”), according to the straightforward and confident explanation of Mashém. Although this custom seems out of place compared to higher cultures, it is naturally reflected in the everyday habits of the tribe, who not only consume animal entrails in their raw and uncleaned state but also relieve intense hunger by eating soft tissues and their semi-digested contents—associations that carry significant weight in primitive thinking. Consistent with the custom and the beliefs that stem from it, waste products generally hold a notable place in the Seri mindset; the use of urine for cleansing, etc., is not well understood and can be overlooked; but all bony feces—and it’s worth noting that the “sign” of the Seri resembles that of wolves or snake-eating pigs rather than that of humans—are typically tracked in areas where large prey is found, kept in mind for future food shortages, and ground on stones for reconsumption; even regular excrement is saved during seasons when food supply is less dependable.

There is an obscure connection between this curious and repulsive food custom of the Seri and the mortuary customs of the tribe, which 213* was not detected until the opportunity for personal inquiry had gone by. About the rancherias on Isla Tiburon, and especially about the extensive house-group at the base of Punta Tormenta, there are burial places marked by cairns of cobbles, or by heaps of thorny brambles where cobbles are not accessible; and most of these cairns and bramble-piles are supplemented by hoards of desiccated feces carefully stored in shells, usually of Arca (a typical specimen is illustrated in figure 25). The hoards range from 50 to 500 shells in quantity, and there were fully a score of them at Punta Tormenta alone. About the newer rancherias, as at Rada Ballena, where there are no cemeteries, the hoards are simply piled about small clumps of shrubbery. The meaning of the association of the dietetic residua and death in the Seri mind is not wholly clear; yet the connection between the “strong food” for the warpath and the mystical food for the manes in the long journey to the hereafter is close enough to give some inkling of the meaning.284

There's a vague link between the strange and off-putting food practices of the Seri tribe and their burial customs, which wasn’t noticed until it was too late for personal investigation. Around the rancherias on Isla Tiburon, especially near the large house group at the base of Punta Tormenta, there are burial sites marked by stone piles or prickly bushes where stones aren’t available; many of these piles are accompanied by caches of dried feces carefully stored in shells, typically of Arca (a typical example is shown in figure 25). These caches can contain anywhere from 50 to 500 shells, and there were at least twenty of them found at Punta Tormenta alone. In the newer rancherias, like Rada Ballena, where there aren’t any cemeteries, the caches are simply stacked around small groups of shrubs. The link between the leftover food and death in the Seri’s view isn’t completely clear; however, the relationship between the “strong food” for the warpath and the ceremonial food for the spirits on their long journey to the afterlife is close enough to provide some hints about its significance.

Fig. 25—Scatophagic supplies.

Fig. 25—Scavenger supplies.


In recapitulating the food supplies of the Seri it is not without interest to estimate roughly the relative quantities of the several constituents consumed; and the proportions maybe made the more readily comprehensible by expression in absolute terms. As a basis for the quantitative estimate, it may be assumed that the average Seri, living, as he does, a vigorous outdoor life, consuming, as he does, a diet of less average nutrition than the selected and cooked foods of higher culture, and attaining, as he does, an exceptional stature and strength, eats something more than the average ration; so that his ration of solid food may be lumped at 2.75 pounds (about 1,250 grams) daily, or 1,000 214* pounds (about 455 kilograms) yearly. The aggregate diet of the tribe may be estimated also by assuming the population to comprise 300 full eaters, besides, say, 50 nurslings negligible in the computation; so that the annual consumption of the tribe may be reckoned at 300,000 pounds (136,000 kilograms), or 150 tons, of solid food. Accordingly the several constituents may be estimated, as shown in the accompanying table, in percentages of the total, in pounds aggregate and apiece for the eaters, and (so far as practicable) in units both aggregate and apiece; the weights of units being roughly averaged at 100 pounds (45 kilograms) for turtles, 12½ pounds (5.6 kilograms) for large land game, 450 pounds (about 200 kilograms) for stock, and 2 ounces (56.7 grams) for tunas.

In summarizing the food supplies of the Seri, it’s interesting to estimate the relative amounts of the various components consumed. These proportions can be more easily understood in absolute terms. For a rough quantitative estimate, we can assume that the average Seri, who leads an active outdoor lifestyle, consumes a diet that is less nutritionally dense than the selected and prepared foods of higher cultures, and achieves exceptional height and strength, eats slightly more than the average daily ration. Thus, his solid food intake can be estimated at 2.75 pounds (about 1,250 grams) per day, or around 1,000 pounds (about 455 kilograms) per year. The total diet of the tribe can also be estimated by assuming there are 300 full eaters, plus, say, 50 infants who don’t significantly impact the calculations. Therefore, the tribe’s annual solid food consumption can be estimated at 300,000 pounds (136,000 kilograms), or 150 tons. The various components can be estimated as shown in the accompanying table, presented as percentages of the total, in total pounds, and per eater, and (as much as possible) both in total and per unit; the weights of the units are roughly averaged at 100 pounds (45 kilograms) for turtles, 12.5 pounds (5.6 kilograms) for large land game, 450 pounds (about 200 kilograms) for livestock, and 2 ounces (56.7 grams) for tunas.

Estimated annual dietary of the Seri tribe

Constituents Per
cent
Quantity Units
Aggregate Apiece Aggregate Apiece
Pounds Pounds
Turtles 25 75,000 250 750
Pelicans 5 15,000 50 1,200 4
Other water-fowl and eggs 8 24,000 80
Fish 15 45,000 150
Shellfish (except turtles) 10 30,000 100
Large land game 7 21,000 70 200
Other land game 8 24,000 80
Stock 6 18,000 60 40 2/15
Tunas 9 27,000 90 216,000 720
Other vegetals 5 15,000 50
Miscellaneous 2 6,000 20
Total 100 300,000 1,000

Of course the constituents vary with temporary conditions; during “The Time of the Big Fish”, practically all other sources of food were neglected until the providential supply was exhausted; during the decades of main subsistence on stolen stock it is probable that the consumption of other constituents, perhaps excepting the tunas, was proportionately reduced; and it is not improbable that during the warfare between Seri and Tepoka, described by Hardy, the consumption of turtles was materially diminished. Judging from the direct and indirect data and from general analogies, the least variable constituent is the cactus fruit, which probably fails but rarely and is so easily harvested as practically to supplant all other supplies during its season of a month or more. At the best, too, the quantitative estimates are nothing more than necessarily arbitrary approximations, based on incomplete inquiries and observations;285 yet they are better than no estimates at all, and 215* appear to form a fairly trustworthy basis for consideration of the Seri food habits.

Of course, the food sources change with temporary conditions; during “The Time of the Big Fish,” almost all other food sources were ignored until the available supply ran out. During the decades of mainly relying on stolen livestock, it’s likely that the consumption of other food sources, maybe except for the tunas, decreased significantly. It’s also likely that during the conflict between the Seri and Tepoka, as discussed by Hardy, the consumption of turtles dropped notably. Based on the direct and indirect data and general analogies, the most stable food source is the cactus fruit, which probably rarely fails and is so easy to gather that it effectively replaces all other supplies for a month or more during its season. At best, the quantitative estimates are just rough approximations based on incomplete research and observations; 285 yet they are better than having no estimates at all, and 215* seem to provide a reasonably reliable foundation for understanding the Seri food habits.

On reviewing the constituents it would appear that the Seri must be regarded as essentially a maritime people, in that about two-thirds of their food is derived from the sea; also that they must be deemed essentially carnivorous, since fully five-sixths of their diet (84 per cent plus a share of the miscellaneous—chiefly scatophagous—category) is animal. The tabulation does not show the relative proportions of the several constituents cooked and eaten raw, but the best available data indicate that fully three-fourths of the ordinary dietary, both animal and vegetal, is ingested in raw condition, and that the greater part of the remaining fourth is imperfectly cooked.

On reviewing the components, it seems that the Seri should be considered primarily a maritime people, as about two-thirds of their food comes from the sea. Additionally, they should be seen as mainly carnivorous, since about five-sixths of their diet (84 percent plus some from the miscellaneous—mostly scavenger—category) consists of animal products. The data doesn’t provide the exact proportions of the different components that are cooked versus eaten raw, but the best available information suggests that about three-fourths of their regular diet, both animal and plant, is consumed raw, and that most of the remaining fourth is only partially cooked.


In recapitulating the devices for food-getting, it is found that nearly all of the more distinctive artifacts and crafts are either directly or indirectly connected with that primary activity of living things, food-conquest. Foremost among the distinctive artifacts of the Seri, in its relation to daily life and in its technical perfection, is the canteen-olla; probably second in importance, and also in technical perfection, is the balsa—whose functions, however, extend beyond simple food-getting; next comes the crude and simple, yet economically perfected, turtle-harpoon, with its variants in the form of arrow (with a function in warfare as well as in food-getting) and fire-drill; while the light basket-tray, although capable of carrying ten to twenty-five times its own weight, is perhaps the least perfect technically of the artifacts directly connected with sustentation. And it should be noted that the prevailing tools—hupf, ahst, multifunctional shell, and awl of mandible or bone or tooth—have either an immediate or a secondary connection with food-getting.

In summarizing the tools for gathering food, it's clear that most of the unique artifacts and crafts are either directly or indirectly tied to the fundamental need for living things to acquire food. The most significant artifact for the Seri, in terms of daily life and technical skill, is the canteen-olla. Next in importance, also showcasing high technical skill, is the balsa, which serves purposes beyond just food gathering. Following that is the simple yet economically efficient turtle-harpoon, along with its variations like the arrow (which serves both for hunting and for food gathering) and the fire-drill. The lightweight basket-tray, despite being able to carry ten to twenty-five times its weight, is probably the least technically advanced of the tools related to sustenance. It’s important to note that the common tools—hupf, ahst, multifunctional shell, and awl made from mandible, bone, or tooth—have either a direct or indirect connection to food gathering.

At first sight Seriland seems an abnormal habitat for a primitive people, since its land area is cleft in twain by a stormy strait—a strait whose terrors to the few Caucasian navigators who have reached its swirling currents are indicated by their appellations, “El Canal Peligroso de San Miguel”286 and “El Infiernillo”; for such a stretch of troubled water is commonly a more serious bar to travel than any moderate land expanse. This intuitive notion of the effectiveness of a water barrier, and the correlative feeling of the incongruity of a land barrier insuperable for centuries, is well illustrated by prevailing opinion throughout northwestern Mexico; for it is commonly supposed in Sonora and neighboring states that Seriland is conterminous with Isla Tiburon, i. e., that the mainland portion of the province (including Sierra Seri with its flanking footslopes) lies beyond the diabolic channel. Yet longer scrutiny shows that the superficial impression merely mirrors Caucasian thought and fails to touch the essential conditions, 216* especially as they are reflected in the primitive minds of the local tribe; and careful study of the habits and history of the Seri shows that the dangerous strait has been a potent factor in preserving tribal existence and perpetuating tribal integrity. Naturally the factor operates through navigation; for it is by means of this art that the tribesmen are able to avoid or to repel the rare invaders of either mainland or insular portions of their province, the overland pioneers from the east being stopped by the strait and the maritime explorers from south and west being unable to maintain themselves long about the stormy shores and never outfitted for pushing far toward the mainland retreats and strongholds; while by means of their light and simple craft the Seri were able to retreat or to advance across the strait as readily as over the adjacent lands to which they were wonted by the experience of generations. In their minds, indeed, El Infiernillo is the nucleus of their province. So the Seri were among the lowliest learners of that lesson of highest statecraft, that lands are not divided but united by intervening sea; and their ill-formulated and provincial notions are of much significance in their bearing on autochthonous habits and habitats.

At first glance, Seriland appears to be an unusual home for a primitive people, as its land is split in two by a rough strait—one that poses significant danger to the few Caucasian sailors who have ventured into its turbulent waters, as indicated by names like “El Canal Peligroso de San Miguel” and “El Infiernillo.” A stretch of treacherous water often serves as a more formidable barrier to travel than any reasonable land expanse. This instinctive belief in the power of a water barrier, along with the feeling that a land barrier could remain insurmountable for centuries, is well demonstrated by the general opinion in northwestern Mexico. It's commonly thought in Sonora and nearby states that Seriland is connected with Isla Tiburon, meaning that the mainland part of the province (including Sierra Seri and its adjacent slopes) lies beyond the dangerous channel. However, a closer look reveals that this surface impression merely reflects Caucasian thinking and does not address the fundamental conditions, especially as they are perceived by the local tribe. A careful examination of the Seri's habits and history shows that the dangerous strait has played a crucial role in maintaining their tribal existence and unity. This influence operates primarily through navigation. The tribespeople can avoid or fend off rare invaders from both the mainland and the islands, as overland pioneers from the east are halted by the strait, and maritime explorers from the south and west struggle to survive on the stormy shores and are never properly equipped to venture far into the mainland's retreats and strongholds. Meanwhile, using their simple and lightweight boats, the Seri can move across the strait just as easily as they navigate the surrounding lands, which they have grown accustomed to over generations. In their view, El Infiernillo is the heart of their province. Thus, the Seri are among the first to learn the crucial lesson of statecraft: that seas do not separate lands but connect them. Their somewhat undefined and local ideas are very significant for their traditional customs and environments.

The water-craft of which the Seri make so good use is a balsa, made of three bundles of carrizal or cane lashed together alongside, measuring barely 4 feet abeam, 1½ feet in depth, and some 30 feet in length over all. A fine specimen (except for a slight injury at one end) is shown in plan and profile in plate XXXI. It was obtained near Boca Infierno in 1895, partly towed and partly paddled thence to Embarcadero Andrade, wagoned laboriously across Desierto Encinas and on to Hermosillo, conveyed in an iron-sheathed box on two gondolas of the narrow-gage Ferrocarril de Sonora to the international frontier, and finally freighted to the United States National Museum, where (in the Mall just outside the building) the photographs reproduced in the plate were taken.

The boat that the Seri make great use of is a balsa, made of three bundles of carrizal or cane tied together on the sides, measuring just about 4 feet wide, 1½ feet deep, and around 30 feet long overall. A nice example (except for a small damage at one end) is shown in plan and profile in plate XXXI. It was obtained near Boca Infierno in 1895, partly towed and partly paddled from there to Embarcadero Andrade, then laboriously transported across Desierto Encinas to Hermosillo, carried in an iron-sheathed box on two gondolas of the narrow-gage Ferrocarril de Sonora to the international border, and finally shipped to the United States National Museum, where (in the Mall just outside the building) the photographs reproduced in the plate were taken.

The manufacture of the balsa has never been seen by Caucasian eyes, but the processes are safely inferred from the structure, whose testimony is corroborated in part by Mashém’s imperfect descriptions. The first step is the gathering of the carrizal from one of the patches growing about the three or four permanent fresh waters of Seriland, the canes being carefully selected for straightness, symmetry, and uniformity in size; these are then denuded of leaves and tassels, tied in bundles of convenient size (one seen on Tiburon contained 40 or 50 canes), and carried to the shore. In actual construction the canes are laid butt to butt, but overlapping 2 or 3 feet, the overlap being shifted this way and that with successive additions, so that the aggregate length of overlapping in the bundle reaches 10 or 12 feet—i. e., the full length of the body of the finished craft. The growing bundle is wrapped from time to time with lashings of mesquite root or maguey fiber, and kept in cylindrical form by constant rolling and by means of the lashing; though the cord used for the purpose is so slender as to do little more than serve the purposes 217* of manufacture (only stray shreds of the interior cording could be found in an old and abandoned balsa on Punta Antigualla). As the bundle approaches the requisite size, the building process changes; the butts of the successively added stalks are thrust obliquely into the interstices extending beyond the butts of earlier-used canes, and the stems are slightly bent to bring them into parallelism with their fellows; and this interweaving process is continued with increasing care until, when the bundle is completed, there are no visible butts (all being pushed into the interior of the bundle), while the only visible tips are those projecting to form the tapering extremities. The finished bundle is then secured by a spiral winding of slender cord. Two other bundles are next made, the three being entirely similar, so far as is known; then the three are joined by a lashing of slender cord like that used for the separate bundles, which is twined alternately above and below the central bundle in such manner as to hold the three in an approximate plane save toward the extremities, where the lashing is much firmer and the tapering tips of the bundles are brought into a triangular position, i. e., the position of smallest compass. The cordage is of either mesquite root or maguey fiber, the former being the more common, so far as observed (doubtless by reason of the dearth of the latter plant); it is notably uniform in twist and size, though surprisingly slender for the purpose, barely three-sixteenths of an inch, or 5 mm., in diameter, and limited in quantity.287 The only tools or implements used in the manufacture (and repair), so far as is known, are light wooden marlinspikes, two of which are illustrated in figure 26; these are used in working the cane-butts into the bundles. In collecting the canes the tassels are broken off and the leaves stripped by the unaided hands, while the stalks are broken off usually below the secondary roots in the downward taper, and the rootlets and loose ends are removed either with the hands or by fire.

The making of the balsa has never been seen by Caucasians, but the processes can be reasonably inferred from its structure, supported in part by Mashém’s imperfect descriptions. The first step is gathering the reeds from one of the patches surrounding the three or four permanent freshwater sources in Seriland. The canes are carefully chosen for straightness, symmetry, and uniform size; they are then stripped of leaves and tassels, tied into manageable bundles (one seen on Tiburon had 40 or 50 canes), and carried to the shore. In actual construction, the canes are placed end to end but overlapping by 2 or 3 feet, with the overlap shifted with each new addition, so the total length of overlap in the bundle reaches 10 to 12 feet—essentially, the full length of the body of the finished craft. As the bundle grows, it is wrapped periodically with lashings made from mesquite root or maguey fiber and maintained in cylindrical form through constant rolling and the lashings; however, the cord used is so thin that it primarily serves manufacturing purposes (only stray bits of the inner cording were found in an old, abandoned balsa on Punta Antigualla). As the bundle approaches the desired size, the method of building changes; the ends of the newly added stalks are inserted at an angle into the gaps extending beyond the ends of the canes used earlier, and the stems are slightly bent to align them with their counterparts. This interweaving continues with increasing care until, when the bundle is finished, no ends are visible (all being pushed into the inside of the bundle), and the only tips seen are those sticking out to form the tapered ends. The completed bundle is then secured with a spiral winding of thin cord. Two other bundles are then made, all three being identical, as far as is known; the three are then joined together with a lashing of slender cord similar to that used for the separate bundles, laced alternately above and below the central bundle in a way that keeps them in a roughly flat shape except at the ends, where the lashing is much tighter and the tapered tips of the bundles are positioned triangularly, meaning in the shape of the smallest footprint. The cord is made from either mesquite root or maguey fiber, with the former being more commonly observed (likely due to the scarcity of the latter plant); it is consistently twisted and sized, though surprisingly thin for the purpose, at barely three-sixteenths of an inch, or 5 mm, in diameter, and limited in amount. The only tools known to be used in the making (and repairing) of the balsa are light wooden marlinspikes, two of which are shown in figure 26; these are used to work the cane ends into the bundles. When collecting the canes, the tassels are broken off, and the leaves are stripped by hand, while the stalks are usually broken off beneath the secondary roots in a downward taper, and the rootlets and loose ends are removed either by hand or by fire.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXI

SERI BALSA IN THE NATIONAL MUSEUM

SERI BALSA IN THE NATIONAL MUSEUM

Fig. 26—Seri
marlinspikes.

Fig. 26—Seri
marlin spikes.

The finished balsa is notably light and buoyant. The Boca Infierno specimen was estimated to weigh about 250 pounds (113 kilograms) when thoroughly dry, and little more than 300 pounds (126 kilograms) 218* when completely wet; so that it could easily be picked up by three or four, or even by two, strong men and carried ashore to be hidden in the fog-shrubbery skirting the coast. The craft floated high with one man aboard, rode better with two, carried three without much difficulty even in a fairly heavy sea, and would safely bear four adults aggregating 600 pounds (272 kilograms) in moderate water. The most striking features of the craft afloat are its graceful movement and its perfect adaptation to variable seas and loads. The lines are symmetric and of great delicacy, as indicated even by the photographs out of its element; the reed-bundles are yielding, partly by resilience and partly in the way of set, so that the body of the craft curves to fit the weight and distribution of the load and to meet the impact of swells and breakers. In smooth water a lightly laden balsa may appear heavy and logy, but with a heavier load and stronger sea each tapering end rises strongly and then recurves slightly in a Hogarthian line graceful as the neck of a swan, while the whole craft skims the waves or glides sinuously over their crests in a lightsome way, recalling the easy movement of gull or petrel. A suggestion of its effect is shown in figure 27, a composite drawn largely from photographs; another suggestion is shown, in figure 28, reproduced in facsimile from a drawing by the artist of the U. S. S. Narragansett in 1873,288 the only known picture of the craft antecedent to the 1895 expedition.

The finished balsa is remarkably light and buoyant. The Boca Infierno specimen was estimated to weigh about 250 pounds (113 kilograms) when fully dry and just over 300 pounds (126 kilograms) when completely wet; so it could easily be lifted by three or four strong men, or even by two, and carried ashore to be hidden in the fog-covered shrubbery along the coast. The craft floated high with one person on board, handled better with two, and could carry three without much trouble even in fairly rough seas. It could safely support four adults, totaling 600 pounds (272 kilograms), in moderate water. The most impressive features of the craft in the water are its graceful movement and its perfect adaptation to changing seas and loads. The lines are symmetrical and delicate, as shown even by the photos taken out of the water; the bundles of reeds are flexible, both through resilience and how they're set up, allowing the body of the craft to curve to accommodate the weight and distribution of the load and to absorb the impact of waves and swells. In calm waters, a lightly loaded balsa may look heavy and clumsy, but with a heavier load and a stronger sea, each tapered end rises sharply and then curves slightly in a graceful, Hogarthian line like a swan's neck, while the whole craft skims over the waves or glides gracefully over their crests, reminiscent of the effortless movement of a seagull or petrel. A glimpse of its effect is shown in figure 27, a composite mainly based on photographs; another illustration is shown in figure 28, reproduced directly from a drawing by the artist of the U.S.S. Narragansett in 1873, the only known image of the craft before the 1895 expedition.

Fig. 27—The balsa afloat.

Fig. 27—The balsa on water.

Almost equally striking features of the balsa are its efficiency and safety under the severe local conditions. Carrying twice its weight of (chiefly) living freight, it breasts gales and rides breakers and stems tiderips that would crush a canoe, swamp a skiff, or capsize a yawl; while if caught in currents or surf and cast ashore it is seldom wrecked, but drops lightly on beach or rocks, to be pushed uninjured by the broken wave-tips beyond the reach of pounding rollers, even if it is not at once caught up by its passengers and carried to complete safety. The strength of the craft is amazing, especially in view of the slenderness 219* of the cords used in construction; in fact, the outer layers of canes are so ingeniously interlocked by the insertion of their butts into interstices that each bundle holds itself together with slight aid from the exterior cording, while even the bundles themselves are held in proper relative position by the secure terminal tying rather than by the intertwined cording of the body of the craft. And the entire construction exemplifies the compartment principle to perfection; a slight injury may affect but a single joint of one out of several thousand canes, while even a severe fall on sharp rocks seldom injures more than a few score canes, and these in a few joints only. The most objectionable feature of the balsa lies in the fact that it affords little protection from the wet. The water rises freely through the reed bundles to a height depending on the load, and not only the spray but the whitecaps and combers as well dash freely over the unprotected body of the craft; but this defect is of little consequence to the hardy and nearly nude navigators, or to their scanty and practically uninjurable freight.

Almost equally impressive about the balsa is its efficiency and safety in harsh local conditions. It carries twice its weight in mostly living cargo, handling strong winds, breaking waves, and turbulent tides that would crush a canoe, swamp a small boat, or capsize a yawl. If caught in currents or surf and washed ashore, it rarely gets wrecked but lands lightly on the beach or rocks, able to be nudged out of reach by the gentle tips of waves, even if it isn’t immediately picked up by its passengers and taken to safety. The strength of this craft is astonishing, especially considering the thin cords used in its construction. In fact, the outer layers of canes are so cleverly interlocked that each bundle holds itself together with minimal support from the outer cording, and even the bundles are kept in the right position by secure end tie-offs rather than the intertwined cording of the body. The whole design perfectly follows the compartment principle; a minor injury may only affect one joint of a few thousand canes, while even a hard landing on sharp rocks usually damages only a small number of canes and just a few joints. The biggest drawback of the balsa is that it offers little protection from water. Water easily rises through the reed bundles to a height depending on the load, and not just the spray but also the whitecaps and breaking waves splash freely over the exposed body of the craft. However, this flaw is minor for the tough and almost naked navigators, as well as their limited and nearly indestructible cargo.

Fig. 28—Seri balsa as seen by Narragansett party.

Fig. 28—Seri balsa as viewed by Narragansett group.

The gracefulness and efficiency of the balsa itself stand in strong contrast with the crude methods of propulsion. According to Mashém, the craft is commonly propelled by either one or two women lying prone on the reeds and paddling either with bare hands or with large shells held in the hands; according to Hardy, the harpoon main shaft is used by turtle fishermen for paddling (and probably for poling, also); according to the Dewey picture (figure 28), the vessel is driven by a woman with a double-end paddle like that used in connection with the conventional canoe; while the expedition of 1895 found on Isla Tiburon four or five paddles rudely wrought from flotsam boards and barrel-staves, and partly hafted with rough sticks 3 or 4 feet long, but partly without handles and evidently designed to be grasped directly, like the shells of Mashém’s descriptions. No trace of oars, rowlocks, sculls, rudders, or masts were found, and there is nothing to indicate the faintest notion of sails and sailing. On the whole there is no trace of well differentiated propelling devices—i. e., the craft is perfected only as a static device and not at all as a dynamic mechanism. 220*

The grace and efficiency of the balsa itself sharply contrast with the rudimentary methods of propulsion. According to Mashém, the craft is typically moved by one or two women lying flat on the reeds and paddling with either their bare hands or large shells. Hardy notes that turtle fishermen use the main shaft of the harpoon for paddling (and probably for poling as well). According to the Dewey image (figure 28), a woman propels the vessel with a double-ended paddle similar to that used with a traditional canoe. The 1895 expedition discovered four or five paddles crudely made from driftwood and barrel staves, some of which were partially fitted with rough sticks 3 or 4 feet long, but some lacked handles and were clearly meant to be held directly, like the shells mentioned by Mashém. No signs of oars, rowlocks, sculls, rudders, or masts were found, and there's no indication of any understanding of sails and sailing. Overall, there is no evidence of distinctly developed propulsion devices—meaning the craft is refined only as a stationary object, not as a moving mechanism. 220*

Despite their poverty in propelling devices, the Seri navigate their waters successfully and extensively. Perhaps the commonest function of the craft is that exercised in connection with the turtle fishery, though its chief office as a factor of general industrial economy is that of bridging El Infiernillo at the will of the roving clans. It is by means of this craft, also, that the semiceremonial pelican feasts on Tiburon are consummated; it is by the same means that Isla Patos, Isla Turner, Roca Foca, and other insulated sources of food-supply are habitually reached; and both Mashém’s accounts and the Jesuits’ records indicate that occasional voyages are pushed to San Esteban, San Lorenzo, Angel de la Guarda, and even to the Baja California coast.

Despite their lack of advanced watercraft, the Seri successfully and widely navigate their waters. The most common use of their boats is for the turtle fishery, but they also play a vital role in connecting various roaming clans across El Infiernillo. These boats are also used for the semi-ceremonial pelican feasts on Tiburon and reach isolated food sources like Isla Patos, Isla Turner, Roca Foca, and others. Both Mashém’s accounts and the records kept by the Jesuits show that they also occasionally make trips to San Esteban, San Lorenzo, Angel de la Guarda, and even the Baja California coast.

Concordantly with the tribal customs, little freight is carried. The traveling family transport their poor possessions to the shore, bring out the balsa from its hiding place in the thick and thorny fog-shrubbery, launch it, lade it with a filled olla and the weapons of a man and implements of a woman, besides any chance food and clothing, and embark lightly to enjoy the semirepose of drifting before the breeze—until the rising gale brings labor still more arduous than that of scouring the spall-strewn slopes or sandy stretches of their hard motherland. Commonly the terminus of the trip is fixed largely by the chance of wind and tide; and when it is reached the party carry the craft inshore, conceal it shrewdly, and then take up their birdskin bed and walk forth in search of fresh water and meat. The successful fishing trips of course end in orgies of gorging, and when the voyage is the climax of a foray to the mainland frontier for stock-stealing, the quarters and paunches and heads hastily thrown aboard at the mainland side of the strait are carried to the rancherias for consumption at leisure; and this has happened so often that equine hoofs and bovine bones are common constituents of the middens on Tiburon.

According to tribal customs, not much is transported. The traveling family brings their few belongings to the shore, retrieves the balsa from its hiding spot in the thick, thorny fog-shrubbery, launches it, loads it with a filled olla, the man's weapons, the woman's tools, and any leftover food and clothing, then sets off to drift gently in the breeze—until the rising wind brings a workload that's even tougher than scrambling over the rocky slopes or sandy areas of their harsh homeland. Usually, the destination of the trip depends mostly on the wind and tide; once they arrive, the group pulls the boat ashore, hides it carefully, and then grabs their birdskin bed to head out in search of fresh water and meat. Successful fishing trips often result in feasting, and when the journey is part of a raid on the mainland for stealing livestock, the quarters, guts, and heads hastily loaded onto the boat on the mainland side of the strait are taken back to the rancherias for later meals; this has happened so frequently that horse hoofs and cow bones are common in the refuse piles on Tiburon.

Although measurably similar to Central American and South American types of water-craft, the Seri balsa is a notably distinct type for its region. The California natives, as well as those of the mainland of Mexico south of Rio Yaqui, used rafts made either of palm trunks or of other logs lashed alongside rather than balsas; while the far-traveling tribes used either sails or well-differentiated paddles for propulsion.

Although it’s similar in some ways to the boats found in Central and South America, the Seri balsa is a unique type of watercraft for its area. The native people of California, as well as those from mainland Mexico south of the Rio Yaqui, used rafts made from palm trunks or other logs tied together instead of balsas; meanwhile, tribes who traveled long distances used either sails or specialized paddles for movement.


Briefly, the Seri balsa is remarkable for perfect adaptation to those needs of its makers shaped by their distinctive environment. It seems to approach the ideal of industrial economy—the acme of practicality—in the adjustment of materials and forces to the ends of a lowly culture; and, like the olla and harpoon and arrow, it affords an impressive example of the adjustment of artifacts to environment through the intervention of budding intelligence. Yet the chief significance of the craft would seem to reside in its vestigial character as a survival of that orarian stage in the course of human development 221* in which men lived alongshore and adjusted themselves to maritime conditions rather than to terrestrial environments; a stage evidently but barely passed by the Seri, since they still subsist mainly on sea food, still retain their suggestive navigation, and still view their stormy straits and bays as the nucleus and noblest portion of their province.

Briefly, the Seri balsa is notable for its perfect adaptation to the needs of its creators, shaped by their unique environment. It seems to reflect the ideal of industrial efficiency—the peak of practicality—in how materials and forces are used to support a humble culture; and, like the olla, harpoon, and arrow, it provides a striking example of how artifacts adapt to the environment through the development of emerging intelligence. However, the main significance of the craft appears to lie in its vestigial nature as a remnant of that early stage in human development where people lived by the shore and adapted to oceanic conditions instead of land environments; a stage the Seri have clearly only just moved beyond, as they still primarily rely on seafood, maintain their notable navigation techniques, and view their turbulent straits and bays as the heart and most important part of their territory. 221*

HABITATIONS

Among the Seri, as among primitive folk generally, the habitation reflects local conditions, especially climate and building materials. Now, Seriland is a subtropical yet arid tract, where rain rarely falls, frost seldom forms, and snow is known only as a fleeting mantle on generally distant mountains, so that there is little need for protection from cold and wet; at the same time the district is too desert to yield serviceable building material other than rock, which the lowly folk have not learned to manipulate. Moreover, the tribesmen and their families are perpetual fugitives (their movements being too erratic and aimless to put them in the class of nomads); they are too accustomed to wandering and too unaccustomed to long resting at particular spots to have a home-sense, save for their motherland as a whole; and, just as they rely on their own physical hardihood for preservation against the elements, so they depend on their combined fleetness and prowess for preservation against enemies. Accordingly, the Seri habitation is not a permanent abode, still less a domicile for weaklings or a shrine for household lares and penates, not at all a castle of proprietary sanctity, and least of all a home; it is rather a time-serving lair than a house in ordinary meaning.

Among the Seri, like many other indigenous peoples, their living environments reflect the local conditions, particularly the climate and available building materials. Seriland is a subtropical yet dry area where rain is rare, frost seldom occurs, and snow only briefly covers the distant mountains. This means that there’s little need for protection against the cold and wet weather. However, the landscape is too barren to provide useful building materials beyond rock, which the locals have not learned to work with. Additionally, the tribes and their families are constantly on the move (their shifts being too random and aimless to be considered nomadic); they are so used to wandering and not staying in one place for long that they don’t really have a sense of home, except for their motherland as a whole. Just as they rely on their physical strength to cope with the elements, they also depend on their speed and skills to protect themselves from enemies. Therefore, the Seri’s living arrangements are not permanent homes, nor are they places for the weak or sacred family shrines, definitely not a castle of ownership, and far from being a true home; instead, it serves more as a temporary shelter than a house in the usual sense.

Despite the poverty of the material and the squalor of the structure, certain features of the Seri jacal are notably uniform and conventional. In size and form it recalls the passing “prairie schooner”, or covered wagon; it is some 10 or 12 feet long, half as wide measured on the ground, and about 4½ feet high, with one end (the front) open to the full width and height, and the other nearly or quite closed. The conventional structural features comprise the upright bows and horizontal tie-sticks forming the framework. The bows are made of okatilla stems (Fouquiera splendens) roughly denuded of their thorns; each is formed by thrusting the butts of two such stems (or more if they are slender) into the ground at the requisite distance apart, bending the tops together into an overlap of a yard or two, and securing them partly by intertwisting, partly by any convenient lashing; and about five or six such bows suffice for a jacal (the appearance of the bows is fairly represented by the ruin shown in plate VII). Next come the tie-sticks, which consist of any convenient material (okatilla stems, cane-stalks, paloblanco branches, mesquite roots, saguaro ribs, etc.), and are lashed to the butts by means of withes, splints, or fiber wisps, at a height of some 4 feet above the ground, or about where the walls merge into the roof. With the placing of these sticks the conventional part 222* of the building process may be said to end; for up to this point the process is a collective one and the materials are essentially uniform, while thereafter the completion of the work depends largely on individual or family caprice, and the materials are selected at random. Moreover, the framework is fairly permanent, usually surviving a number of occupancies extending over months or years, and outlasting an equal number of outer coverings; so that all habitable Seriland is dotted sparsely with jacal skeletons, sometimes retaining fragments of walls or roof, but oftener entirely denuded.

Despite the poor quality of the materials and the shabby condition of the structure, some aspects of the Seri jacal are surprisingly consistent and traditional. Its size and shape are reminiscent of the old “prairie schooner,” or covered wagon; it measures about 10 to 12 feet long, half as wide at the base, and roughly 4½ feet tall, with one end (the front) open to full width and height, while the other end is almost completely closed. The standard structural features include upright bows and horizontal tie-sticks that create the framework. The bows are made from okatilla stems (Fouquiera splendens) that have been roughly stripped of their thorns; they are formed by pushing the ends of two or more of these stems (more if they are thin) into the ground at the necessary distance apart, bending the tops together to create an overlap of about a yard or two, and securing them partly by intertwining and partly by tying them with any convenient material. Typically, five or six of these bows are enough for one jacal (the appearance of the bows is fairly represented by the ruin shown in plate VII). Then come the tie-sticks, which can be made from any suitable material (okatilla stems, cane stalks, paloblanco branches, mesquite roots, saguaro ribs, etc.), and they are tied to the bases of the bows using strips, splints, or fiber pieces, at a height of about 4 feet above the ground, or where the walls meet the roof. With the addition of these sticks, the standardized part of the building process can be considered complete; up to this stage, the construction is a collective effort and the materials are fairly uniform, but afterwards, completing the structure largely depends on individual or family preferences, and the materials are chosen at random. Additionally, the framework tends to be quite durable, usually lasting through several periods of occupancy extending over months or years, and outlasting multiple outer coverings; as a result, all habitable Seriland is scattered with the skeletal remains of jacals, sometimes still showing bits of walls or roofs, but often completely stripped.

The conversion of the framework into a habitable jacal is effected by piling around and over it any convenient shrubbery, by which it is made a sort of bower; sometimes the conversion is aided by the attachment of additional tie-sticks both above and below the main horizontal pieces, as illustrated in the upper figure of plate IX; sometimes, too, the material of walls and roof is carefully selected and interwoven with such pains as to form a rude thatch, as in the chief jacal at Rada Ballena (the upper figure in plate VI); but more commonly the covering is collected at random and is laid so loosely that it is held in place only by gravity and wind pressure, and may be dislodged by a change of wind. Ordinarily the walls are thicker and denser than the roofs, which are supplemented in time of occupancy by haunches of venison, remnantal quarters of cattle and horses, half-eaten turtles, hides and pelts, as well as bird-skin robes, thrown on the bows partly to keep them out of reach of coyotes and partly to afford shade. Most of the jacales about the old rancheria at Punta Tormenta (abandoned at “The Time of the Big Fish”), which may be regarded as the center of the turtle industry, are irregularly clapboarded with turtle-shells and with sheets of a local sponge, as illustrated in plate VII. This sponge abounds in the bight of Rada Ballena, where at high water it spreads over the silty bottom in a slimy sheet, and at low water with off-shore gales is left by the waters to dry into a light and fairly tenacious mat, which is gathered in sheets for bedding as well as for house-making material (a specimen of the sponge—probably Chalina—is shown on larger scale in plate VIII). On the frontier the jacales may be modified by the introduction of sawed or riven lumber, as illustrated by some of the-structures at Costa Rica (shown in plate XI); but even here there is a strong disposition to adhere to the customary form, and especially to the conventional framework, as indicated by the example in plate X.

The transformation of the framework into a livable jacal is achieved by piling any available shrubs around and over it, creating a sort of shelter. Sometimes, this change is supported by adding extra tie-sticks above and below the main horizontal beams, as shown in the upper figure of plate IX; at other times, the materials for the walls and roof are carefully chosen and woven together to create a rough thatch, as seen in the main jacal at Rada Ballena (the upper figure in plate VI); however, more often than not, the covering is gathered randomly and laid so loosely that it stays in place only due to gravity and wind pressure, and can be blown away by a change in wind. Typically, the walls are thicker and denser than the roofs, which are further supplemented during occupancy with venison haunches, leftover cuts of cattle and horses, partially eaten turtles, hides and pelts, as well as bird-skin robes, placed on the beams partly to keep them out of reach of coyotes and partly to provide shade. Most of the jacales around the old rancheria at Punta Tormenta (abandoned during “The Time of the Big Fish”), which can be seen as the center of the turtle industry, are irregularly clad with turtle shells and sheets of local sponge, as illustrated in plate VII. This sponge is abundant in the bight of Rada Ballena, where at high water it spreads in a slimy sheet over the silty bottom, and at low water with offshore winds dries into a light and fairly strong mat that is collected in sheets for bedding and construction material (a specimen of the sponge—probably Chalina—is shown on a larger scale in plate VIII). On the frontier, jacales may be adapted by introducing sawed or split lumber, as illustrated by some structures in Costa Rica (shown in plate XI); but even here, there is a strong tendency to stick to the traditional form, especially the conventional framework, as indicated by the example in plate X.

While the jacales are not consistently oriented, they reveal a primary preference for facing away from the prevailing wind and toward the nearest sea, with a secondary preference for southern and eastern exposures—the former preference being easily explained, since a gale from the front quickly strips walls and roof and scatters the materials afar. No definite order is observed in the placement of the several jacales in the larger rancherias; apparently the first is located at the choice of the leading elderwoman, and the others are clustered about it at the common 223* convenience. Usually the several jacales are entirely separate; but at Punta Tormenta, Punta Narragansett, and still more notably at Rada Ballena, individual huts were found either extended to double length or joined obliquely in such wise as to show two fronts (as illustrated in plate VI). The conventional frameworks appear to be common tribal property, at least to the extent that an abandoned skeleton may be preempted by any comer; while the addition of walls and roof appears to afford a prescriptive proprietary right to the elderwoman and family by whom the work is done—though the right seems to hold only during occupancy, or until the temporary covering is dislodged.

While the jacales aren't always aligned, they generally prefer to face away from the prevailing wind and towards the nearest sea, with a secondary preference for southern and eastern views. The main preference is easy to understand, as a strong wind can quickly damage walls and roofs and scatter materials. There's no specific order for how the different jacales are arranged in the larger rancherias; it seems the first one is placed where the leading elderwoman decides, and the others are grouped around it for convenience. Typically, the jacales are completely separate; however, at Punta Tormenta, Punta Narragansett, and especially at Rada Ballena, individual huts can be found either extended to double length or joined at an angle to show two fronts (as illustrated in plate VI). The basic frameworks seem to be shared tribal property, at least to the extent that anyone can take over an abandoned structure; however, adding walls and a roof seems to give a kind of ownership right to the elderwoman and her family who do the work—though this right appears to only last as long as they occupy it, or until the temporary covering is removed.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXII

PAINTED OLLA, WITH OLLA RING

Painted pot with pot ring

The jacales are without semblance of furnishing, beyond an occasional ahst and a few loose pebbles used as hupfs; though the nooks behind the bows and tie-sticks sometimes serve as places of concealment for paint-cups, awls, hair bobbins, and other domestic trifles. There is no floor but earth, and this remains in natural condition, except for trampling and wearing into wallows, recalling those of fowls and swine, which afford a rough measure of the periods of occupancy; there is no fireplace—indeed, fires are rarely made in the jacales, nor for that matter frequently anywhere; and there are no fixed places for bedding, water ollas, or other portable possessions, none of which are left behind when the householders are abroad.

The jacales have almost no furniture, just an occasional mat and a few loose pebbles used as seats; although the corners behind the beams and ties sometimes hide paint cups, awls, hair ties, and other household items. The floor is just dirt, and it stays in its natural state, except for the wear from foot traffic creating depressions, similar to those made by chickens and pigs, which gives a rough idea of how long people have lived there. There’s no fireplace—actually, fires are rarely made in the jacales and not much anywhere else, either; and there are no designated spots for bedding, water containers, or other movable belongings, which are always taken along when the residents are out.


Little is known of the actual process of jacal building, especially in Seriland proper; but the observations of Señor Encinas and his vaqueros on the frontier corroborate Mashém’s statements that the houses are built by (and belong to) the matrons; that several women customarily cooperate in the collection of the okatilla and erection of the framework; that the only tools used in the processes are hupfs and miscellaneous sticks; and that the placing and fitting of the beams and tie sticks are accompanied by a chant, usually led by the eldest matron of the group. The same informants support the ready inference from the structure that the shrubbery and other material forming walls and roofs are gathered and placed from time to time by the women occupying the jacales.

Little is known about the actual process of building jacals, especially in Seriland proper; however, the observations of Señor Encinas and his cowboys on the frontier confirm Mashém’s statements that the houses are built by (and belong to) the women in charge. Several women usually work together to gather the okatilla and construct the framework. The only tools used in the process are hupfs and various sticks. The placing and fitting of the beams and tie sticks are accompanied by a chant, typically led by the oldest woman in the group. The same informants support the clear inference from the structure that the plants and other materials used for walls and roofs are gathered and arranged from time to time by the women living in the jacales.

The Seri building chant is suggestive. Neither Señor Encinas nor Mashém regarded it as religious or even ritualistic, but merely as a work-song designed (in the naive notion of the latter) to make the task lighter; and it seems probable that the local interpretation is correct. If so, the simple chant at once offers rational explanation for its own existence, and opens the way to explanation of the elaborate building rituals of more advanced tribes. The work-song is a common device in many lowly activities, ranging from those of children at play to those of sailors at the windlass, and undoubtedly serves a useful purpose in guiding, coordinating, and concentrating effort; to some extent the vocal accompaniment to the manual or bodily action apparently expresses that normal interrelation of functions manifested by secondary 224* sense-effects (as when the sense of smell is intensified by exercise of the organs of taste), or, in another direction, by the habit of the youthful penman who shapes his letters by aid of lingual and facial contortion; yet it is a characteristic of primitive life—one doubtless due to the interrelations of psycho-physical functions—to not only employ but to greatly exalt vocal formulas associated with manual activities, so that words, and eventually the Word, acquires a mystical or talismanic or sacred significance pervading all lower culture—indeed the savage shaman is unable to work his marvels without mumbled incantations ending in some formulated and well-understood utterance, and his practice persists in the meaningless mummery and culminating “presto” of modern jugglery. So, viewed in the light of psycho-physical causes and prevalent customs connected with vocal formulas, it would seem probable that the conventional features of the Seri jacales are crystallized in the tribal lore quite as effectually through the associated work-chants as through direct memory of the forms and structures themselves. And the simple runes chanted in unison by Seri matrons engaged in bending and lashing their okatilla house-bows apparently define a nascent stage in the development of the elaborate fiducial house-building ceremonies characteristic of various higher tribes; for the spontaneous vocal accompaniment tends naturally to run into ritual under that law of the development of myth or fable which explains so many of the customs and notions of primitive peoples.289

The Seri building chant is interesting. Neither Señor Encinas nor Mashém saw it as religious or even ritualistic, but just as a work-song meant to make the task easier; and it seems likely that the local view is accurate. If that’s the case, the simple chant not only explains its existence logically, but also sets the stage for understanding the complex building rituals of more advanced tribes. Work-songs are commonly used in many simple activities, from children playing to sailors at the windlass, and they clearly help guide, coordinate, and focus effort. To some extent, the vocal background of the physical action seems to represent the normal interaction of functions seen in secondary sense effects (like how our sense of smell can become sharper with taste), or, on another note, in the way a young writer shapes their letters using facial and tongue movements. However, it's typical of primitive life—likely due to the connections between mental and physical functions—not only to use but also to highly value vocal formulas tied to manual tasks, so that words, and eventually the Word, gain mystical or talismanic or sacred meaning that fills all lower cultures. In fact, the savage shaman can't perform his wonders without muttered spells that end in some carefully crafted and well-known phrase, and this practice continues in the meaningless tricks and final "presto" of modern magic shows. So, considering the psychological and physical reasons and the customs linked with vocal formulas, it seems likely that the traditional features of the Seri jacales are embedded in tribal knowledge just as effectively through the associated work-chants as through direct memory of the actual forms and structures. The simple chants sung together by Seri women while bending and tying their okatilla house-bows seem to mark an early stage in the development of the complex house-building ceremonies typical of various higher tribes; because spontaneous vocal support naturally tends to evolve into ritual under the law of myth or fable development, which explains many customs and ideas of primitive peoples.

APPARELING

Slightly as they have been affected by three centuries of sporadic contact with higher culture, the Seri reveal many marks of acculturation; and the most conspicuous of these are connected with clothing, especially on the frontier, where women and even warriors habitually wear a livery of subserviency in the form of cast-off Caucasian rags (as illustrated in most of the photographs taken at Costa Rica). Even in the depths of Seriland the native fabrics are largely replaced by white men’s stuffs, obtained by barter, beggary, and robbery; yet it is easy to distinguish the harlequin veneer of borrowed trappings from the few fixed types of covering that seem characteristic.

Slightly influenced by three centuries of inconsistent contact with higher culture, the Seri people show many signs of cultural change; the most obvious are related to clothing, particularly on the frontier, where women and even warriors often wear a uniform of subservience made up of discarded Caucasian rags (as shown in most of the photographs taken in Costa Rica). Even in the remote parts of Seriland, the traditional fabrics are mostly replaced by materials from white men, acquired through trade, begging, and theft; yet it’s easy to tell the patchwork of borrowed clothing from the few consistent styles that seem typical.

The most distinctive piece of apparel is a kilt, extending from waist to knees, worn alike by men and women and the larger children. Aboriginally it was either a birdskin robe or a rectangle of coarse textile fabric, secured at the waist by a hair-cord belt; acculturally it is usually a rectangle of manta (coarse sheeting) or other stuff, preferably cotton or linen but sometimes woolen, fastened either by tucking in the corners or by a belt of cord. Good specimens of the accultural cloth kilt worn by men and larger boys are illustrated in plates XVI 225* and XIX; the birdskin kilt (put on for the purpose) is illustrated in plate XVIII, while the aboriginal fabric is fairly represented in plate XXIX. Although ordinarily worn as a kilt, the same article (temporarily replaced by an improvised substitute) serves other purposes at the convenience of the wearer; in the chase for tunas and for moving game it becomes a bag or pack-sheet; in case of cold rain it is shifted to the shoulders or the exposed side; during the siesta, it is elevated on a shrub and a stick to serve as a canopy; at sleeping time generally it forms (especially when of birdskin) a bed, i. e., a combined mattress and coverlet; and in attack or defense the pelican skin is at once standard, buckler, and waving capa to confuse quarry or enemy after the manner of the toreador’s cloak.

The most distinctive piece of clothing is a kilt, which goes from the waist to the knees and is worn by both men and women, as well as older children. Originally, it was either a birdskin robe or a rectangle of coarse fabric, secured at the waist with a hair-cord belt; now, it’s usually a rectangle of manta (coarse sheeting) or other materials, preferably cotton or linen but sometimes wool, held in place either by tucking in the corners or using a cord belt. Good examples of the cultural cloth kilt worn by men and older boys are shown in plates XVI 225* and XIX; the birdskin kilt (specifically set for this purpose) is shown in plate XVIII, while the traditional fabric is fairly depicted in plate XXIX. Although it’s typically worn as a kilt, the same garment (temporarily replaced by a makeshift alternative) serves other purposes depending on the wearer’s needs; for catching tunas and moving game, it becomes a bag or pack-sheet; in cold rain, it can be draped over the shoulders or exposed side; during siesta, it can be propped up on a shrub and a stick to create a canopy; at bedtime, it generally serves as a bed (especially when made of birdskin), acting as both a mattress and cover; and when it comes to attack or defense, the pelican skin can instantly work as a standard, shield, and waving cloak to confuse the target or enemy, similar to a bullfighter’s cape.

An almost equally distinctive garment is a short shirt or wammus, with long sleeves, worn by men and women but not by children; ordinarily it covers the thorax, missing connection with the kilt by a few inches, and so affording ventilation and space for suckling the teeming offspring. Unlike the kilt, it is an actual garment, fitted with sleeves and fastened in front with hair-cord strings. Although the Seri wammus corresponds fairly with a Yaqui garment, it seems practically certain that it is of local aboriginal design, and that it was made primitively of haircloth or native textiles (as illustrated in plate XXIX) and worn rather ceremoniously; but latterly it is made of manta and is worn habitually (at least by the women and on the frontier), though cast aside in preparation for any special task or effort—i. e., it is not connected with pudency-sense, save to a slight degree in the younger women. The form, function, and prevalence of the wammus are illustrated by the group shown in plate XIII, in which nearly all of the thirty-odd adults wear the garment.

An almost equally distinctive piece of clothing is a short shirt or wammus, with long sleeves, worn by both men and women but not by children. It typically covers the torso, leaving a gap of a few inches from the kilt, allowing for ventilation and space for nursing the many offspring. Unlike the kilt, it is an actual piece of clothing, fitted with sleeves and fastened in front with hair-cord strings. Although the Seri wammus is somewhat similar to a Yaqui garment, it seems pretty certain that it has a local indigenous design, originally made from haircloth or native textiles (as shown in plate XXIX) and worn quite ceremoniously. However, it is now primarily made of manta and worn regularly (at least by women and on the frontier), though it is taken off in preparation for any special task or effort—meaning it isn't tied to modesty, except to a small degree for younger women. The form, function, and prevalence of the wammus are illustrated by the group shown in plate XIII, where nearly all of the thirty or so adults are wearing the garment.

These two articles constitute the ordinary wearing apparel of the Seri, though they are commonly supplemented (especially when both are of manta) by a pelican-skin robe, which is habitually carried to serve as bed or mackintosh, according to the chance of journey and weather, or as a shield in sudden warfare. No head-covering is used, save in the ceremonial masquerade, when the heads of animals are worn as masks,290 or in aping Caucasian customs, especially on expeditions for barter (as illustrated in plate XII). Loose trousers of Mexican pattern are sometimes put on at frontier points, but are discarded in Seriland proper, save by Mashém, who maintains prestige partly by this borrowed badge of Caucasian superiority. Leggings and moccasins are eschewed, naturally enough, since they would afford little protection from the sharp spalls and savage thorns of the district, and would give lodgment for the barbed spines inevitably gathered in rapid chase or flight over cactus-dotted stretches; and the only foot-covering seen (save Mashém’s boots) was a single sandal made from the rough skin of a turtle-flipper, apparently for ceremonial rather than practical use. 226* Of all the party at Costa Rica in 1894 subchief Mashém was the only one who wore Caucasian apparel with any air of comfort and fitness; yet even he, with hat and shirt, boots and breeches, and loose bandana about his neck in cowboy style (plate XVII), did not feel fully dressed without the slender hair-cord necklace of his kin in its wonted place. On the frontier improvised fig-leaves were sometimes put on the children of less than a dozen years (as illustrated by the standing infant shown in plate XIV, who was thus dressed hastily for her picture); and a common garb of the smaller children at Costa Rica, as they played about the rancheria or wandered in directions away from the white man’s rancho, was limited to a cincture of hair cord or snake skin, or perhaps of agave fiber, under which an improvised kilt might be tucked on the Caucasian’s approach.

These two items make up the usual clothing of the Seri, but they’re often added to (especially when both are made of manta) with a pelican-skin robe, which is typically carried to function as a bed or raincoat, depending on the journey and weather, or as a shield in sudden combat. No head covering is used, except during ceremonial masquerades when animal heads are worn as masks, or when imitating Caucasian customs, especially on trading expeditions (as shown in plate XII). Loose trousers in a Mexican style are sometimes worn at border areas but are discarded in Seriland itself, except by Mashém, who maintains his status partly through this borrowed symbol of Caucasian superiority. Leggings and moccasins are naturally avoided, as they would offer little protection against the sharp stones and thorny plants in the region and would trap the barbed spines that gather quickly during chases or flights over cactus-filled areas; the only footwear visible (excluding Mashém’s boots) was a single sandal made from the tough skin of a turtle flipper, seemingly for ceremonial rather than practical use. 226* Of all the group in Costa Rica in 1894, subchief Mashém was the only one who wore Caucasian clothing with any sense of comfort and appropriateness; nonetheless, even he, with his hat and shirt, boots and trousers, and loose bandana around his neck in cowboy style (plate XVII), didn’t feel properly dressed without the thin hair-cord necklace of his family in its usual place. On the frontier, makeshift fig leaves were sometimes placed on the children under twelve (as seen with the standing infant in plate XIV, who was hastily dressed for her picture); and a common outfit for the younger children in Costa Rica, as they played around the rancheria or roamed away from the white man’s ranch, consisted of a hair cord or snake skin belt, or possibly agave fiber, under which an improvised kilt might be tucked when a Caucasian approached.

Fig. 29—Seri hairbrush.

Fig. 29—Seri hairbrush.

Fig. 30—Seri cradle.

Fig. 30—Seri baby carrier.

In addition to the individual apparel, each clan, or at least the elderwoman or her fraternal executive, accumulates some surplus material as opportunity offers, and this serves as family bedding until occasion arises for converting it to other uses. Of late the prevailing materials are pelican skins, lightly dressed and joined into robes by sinew stitching; deerskins, dried or partially dressed; cormorant skins, treated like those of the pelican; seal skins, usually fragmentary; peccary skins, 227* apparently dried without dressing, together with skins of rabbits, mountain sheep, antelope, etc., usually tattered or torn into fragments. Commonly the hides and pelts are nearly or quite in natural condition, retaining the hair, fur, or feathers. The dressing is apparently limited to scratching and gnawing away superfluous flesh, followed by some rubbing and greasing; tanning is apparently unknown. By far the most abundant of the collective possessions are the pelican-skin robes, which form the sole article of recognized barter with aliens. The aggregate stock accumulated at any time is but meager, never too much to be borne on the heads and backs of the clan in case of unexpected decamping.

In addition to their individual clothing, each clan, or at least the elder woman or her male counterpart, collects some extra materials when possible, which serve as family bedding until they're needed for something else. Recently, the main materials used are pelican skins, lightly processed and stitched into robes with sinew; deerskins, dried or partially processed; cormorant skins, treated similarly to the pelican; fragmentary seal skins; peccary skins, seemingly dried without processing, along with skins from rabbits, mountain sheep, antelope, etc., which are usually worn or torn into pieces. Typically, the hides and pelts are nearly or completely in their natural state, keeping the hair, fur, or feathers. The processing mainly involves scraping and gnawing away excess flesh, followed by some rubbing and greasing; tanning appears to be unknown. The most common items among the clan’s collective possessions are the pelican-skin robes, which are the only goods used for trade with outsiders. The overall stock collected at any time is quite limited, never enough to weigh down the clan's members in case they need to leave unexpectedly.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIII

PLAIN OLLA

Simple pot

Fig. 31—Hair spindle.

Fig. 31—Hair strand.

Aside from the painting paraphernalia, there is but a single conspicuous toilet article; this is a hairbrush made of yucca fiber bound into cylindrical form, as illustrated in figure 29. This article is in frequent use; both women and men give much attention to brushing their own long and luxurious locks and cultivating the hair and scalps of their children, the process being regarded as not only directly useful but in some measure sacramental. Ordinarily the hair is parted in the middle and brushed straight, the tresses being permitted to wander at will and never braided or bound or restrained by fillets save in imitation of Caucasian customs on the frontier; though in certain ceremonies the pelage is gathered in a lofty knot on the top-head.291

Aside from the painting supplies, there is just one noticeable grooming item: a hairbrush made from yucca fiber shaped into a cylinder, as shown in figure 29. This item is used frequently; both women and men pay a lot of attention to brushing their own long, luxurious hair and caring for the hair and scalps of their children. This process is seen as not only practical but also somewhat sacred. Usually, the hair is parted down the middle and brushed straight, with the strands allowed to fall freely and never braided or tied up, except when mimicking Caucasian styles on the frontier. However, during certain ceremonies, the hair is gathered into a high bun on top of the head.291

The Seri cradle is merely a bow of paloblanco or other switch with rude cross-sticks lashed on, as shown in figure 30. On this is laid a small pelican-skin robe, with a quantity of pelican down for a diaper, and perhaps a few pelican feathers attached as plumes to wave over the occupant’s face; though on the frontier these primitive devices are largely replaced by rags.

The Seri cradle is basically a bow made of paloblanco or another kind of branch, with simple cross-sticks tied on, as shown in figure 30. It has a small robe made of pelican skin laid on it, along with some pelican down for a diaper, and maybe a few pelican feathers added as decorations to flutter above the baby's face; although out on the frontier, these basic setups are mostly swapped out for rags.

Among the important appurtenances of Seri life are the cords used for belts and necklaces, as well as for the attachment of ceremonial headdresses, for converting the kilts into bags, and for numberless minor purposes. The finest of these are made from human hair; and for this purpose the combings are carefully kept, twisted into strands, and wound on thorns or sticks in slender bobbins, such as that illustrated 228* in figure 31. When the accumulation suffices the strands are doubled or quadrupled, as shown in figures 32 and 33, and the cords are either applied to immediate use or added to the matron’s meager store against emergency demands. The cordage used for other purposes than appareling is commonly made from fiber extracted either from the roots of the mesquite or the stipes of the agave; usually it is well twisted and notably 229* uniform in size and texture; an inferior example appears in figure 34. The manes and tails of horses and other stock are also converted into cordage, of which the chief known application is in toy riatas. It is of no small significance that the most highly prized cordage material is human hair, and that its chief uses are connected with the person; that the next in order of diminishing preciousness is that derived from the fibrous plants, which is used in balsa-making, bowstrings, harpoon cords, etc., as well as in the native fabrics; and that the least prized material is that derived from imported animals, which is largely limited in its utilization to youthful imitation of Caucasian industries; for the association of material with function reflects a distinctive feature of primitive thought, akin to that displayed in somewhat higher culture as synecdochic magic, the doctrine of signatures, etc.

Among the important aspects of Seri life are the cords used for belts and necklaces, as well as for attaching ceremonial headdresses, turning kilts into bags, and countless other minor purposes. The finest of these cords are made from human hair; for this, the hair combings are carefully saved, twisted into strands, and wound onto thorns or sticks on slender bobbins, like the one shown in figure 31. When the collection is sufficient, the strands are either doubled or quadrupled, as illustrated in figures 32 and 33, and the cords are either used immediately or added to the matron’s limited stash for emergencies. The cord used for other purposes besides clothing is typically made from fibers extracted from the roots of mesquite or the leaves of the agave; it is usually well-twisted and notably uniform in size and texture; a lower-quality example is shown in figure 34. The manes and tails of horses and other livestock are also made into cordage, primarily used in toy lariats. It is significant that the most valued cordage material is human hair, and its main uses are personal; the next most valued comes from fibrous plants, used in making balsas, bowstrings, harpoon lines, etc., as well as in native textiles; and the least valued comes from imported animal materials, which is mostly used in youth mimicking Caucasian industries. The connection between material and function reflects a distinctive aspect of primitive thought, similar to what is seen in slightly more developed cultures as synecdochic magic, the doctrine of signatures, etc.

Fig. 32—Human-hair cord.

Fig. 32—Human hair cord.

Fig. 33—Horsehair cord.

Fig. 33—Horsehair string.

Fig. 34—Mesquite-fiber rope.

Fig. 34—Mesquite fiber rope.

Partly because of that decadence of aboriginal devices correlated with acculturation, partly by reason of imperfect observation, practically nothing is known of Seri spinning and weaving, and little of Seri sewing. The religiously-guarded hair-combings are twisted in the fingers and wound on stick-bobbins without aid of mechanical appliances; and, so far as has been observed, the final making of hair cords is merely a continuation of the strictly manual process. The agave stipes and mesquite roots are alleged by vaqueros to be retted in convenient lagoons and barrancas (a statement corroborated by the finding of half a dozen sections of mesquite root soaking in a lagoon near Punta Antigualla 230* by the 1895 expedition), and then hatcheled with the hupf or the edge of a shell; when the fibers are gathered in slender wisps or loosely wound coils, both of which were among the possessions of the Seri matrons at Costa Rica in 1894. So far as could be ascertained, the final processes parallel those of hair-cord making, i. e., the fibers are patiently sorted into strands, sized in the fingers and twisted by rolling on the thigh, the strands being subsequently combined in similar fashion.292 Neither the weaving nor the woven fabrics of the Seri have ever been seen by technologic students so far as known, though the fabrics are shown in Von Bayer’s photographs and have been described by various observers. According to Señor Encinas, they resemble coarse bagging, and are woven or netted quite plainly. The ordinary sewing material is sinew, used in connection with a bone awl (a good example of which is illustrated in figure 35), a fish spine or bone, a cactus thorn, or either the mandible of a water-bird or a hard-wood skewer shaped after this natural needle (figure 36 a and b). Sometimes hair or vegetal fiber is substituted for the sinew; and for certain purposes an agave thorn, with the fibers naturally attached, serves for needle and thread.

Partly due to the decline of traditional tools linked with cultural change, and partly because of limited observation, not much is known about Seri spinning and weaving, and even less about Seri sewing. The sacred hair-combings are twisted by hand and wound onto stick-bobbins without any mechanical tools; as observed, the final creation of hair cords is simply a continuation of this manual method. Vaqueros claim that agave stalks and mesquite roots are soaked in local lagoons and canyons (a claim supported by the discovery of several pieces of mesquite root soaking in a lagoon near Punta Antigualla by the 1895 expedition), and then processed with a hupf or a shell's edge; when the fibers are gathered into thin wisps or loosely wound coils, which were among the belongings of the Seri women in Costa Rica in 1894. As far as could be determined, the final processes are similar to those of hair-cord making, meaning the fibers are carefully sorted into strands, sized with the fingers, and twisted by rolling on the thigh, with the strands then combined in a similar way.292 Neither the weaving nor the woven fabrics of the Seri have ever been observed by technological researchers to date, though the fabrics are depicted in Von Bayer’s photographs and have been described by various observers. According to Señor Encinas, they look like coarse bagging and are woven or netted rather simply. The usual sewing material is sinew, used along with a bone awl (a good example of which is shown in figure 35), a fish spine or bone, a cactus thorn, or either the jawbone of a water bird or a hardwood skewer shaped like this natural needle (figure 36 a and b). Sometimes hair or plant fiber replaces the sinew; and for specific purposes, an agave thorn, with the fibers naturally attached, serves as needle and thread.

Fig. 35—Bone awl.

Fig. 35—Bone awl.

Fig. 36—Wooden awls. 231*

Fig. 36—Wooden awls. 231*

Summarily, the customary apparel of Seri men and women may be regarded as limited to three articles—(1) a kilt, normally of coarse textile fabric, which is made a prime necessity by a well-developed pudency; (2) a short wammus, also normally of coarse textile fabric, which is apparently regarded as a convenience and luxury rather than a necessity; and (3) a robe, normally of pelican skin, sometimes substituted for either or both of the other articles, but ordinarily used as bedding or as a buckler. The most valued of these articles is the robe, which in the absence of the others replaces the kilt; yet pudency demands the habitual use of some form of kilt, while both wammus and robe are held so far superfluous that they may be laid aside or bartered or otherwise dispensed with whenever occasion arises.

In summary, the traditional clothing of Seri men and women can be seen as limited to three main items—(1) a kilt, usually made from coarse fabric, which is a key necessity due to a strong sense of modesty; (2) a short wammus, also typically made from coarse fabric, which is seen more as a convenience and luxury than an essential item; and (3) a robe, usually made from pelican skin, that can sometimes replace one or both of the other items but is primarily used for bedding or as a shield. The robe is the most valued of these items, as it can replace the kilt when the others are absent; however, modesty requires some form of kilt to be worn regularly, while both the wammus and robe are considered somewhat unnecessary and can be set aside, traded, or discarded when needed.


On considering the special functions and probable genesis of the Seri appareling, the student is impressed by the absence of the breech-clout, except perhaps in temporary improvisations—though the absence of this widespread article of primitive costumery need awaken little surprise in view of the environment, and especially of the abounding barbs of Seriland, which render all appareling of doubtful value save for the protection of tissues softened by habitual covering. The prevailing thorniness of the habitat renders the free-flowing and easily removable apron the most serviceable protection for the exposed vitals of the pubic region; and this device, a common one in thorny habitats generally, grades naturally into the short skirt or kilt; while it would well accord with the maritime habit and habitual thought of the Seri to apply the tough and densely feathered skin of the pelican to the purpose. This suggestion as to the nascent covering of the tribe consists with the tribal faith, in which the Ancient of Pelicans ranks as the creative deity, while its modern representative is esteemed a protective tutelary possessing talismanic powers against cold, wet, bestial claw and fang, alien arrows, and all other evils; so that the use of this feathered pelt as a shield against spiny shrubbery, sharp-leaved sedges, and barb-thorned cacti is quite in harmony with Seri philosophy. Accordingly it seems clear that the pelican-skin kilt was autochthonous among the Seri, and that it was the original form of tribal appareling; and it is of no small significance that the type persists in actual use as well as in suggestive vestigial forms, such as pelican-down swaddling for infants, pelican-feather plumes on cradle nets, etc.

Upon examining the unique functions and likely origins of Seri clothing, one notices the lack of breech-clouts, except for possibly some temporary makeshift options. However, this absence of a common piece of primitive clothing is not surprising given the environment, particularly the abundance of thorns in Seriland, which makes most clothing less useful except for protecting skin that is used to being covered. The prevalent thorns in the area make the flowing and easily removable apron the best protection for the exposed areas of the pubic region; this type of clothing, commonly found in thorny environments, naturally transitions into the short skirt or kilt. It also aligns with the Seri's maritime lifestyle and mindset to use the tough, densely feathered skin of the pelican for this purpose. This idea of tribal clothing matches the tribe's beliefs, where the Ancient of Pelicans is seen as the creator deity, and its modern version is regarded as a protective guardian with magical abilities against cold, wet conditions, animal claws and fangs, foreign arrows, and other dangers. Thus, using this feathered hide as a shield against prickly shrubs, sharp sedges, and thorny cacti is consistent with Seri philosophy. Therefore, it’s clear that the pelican-skin kilt originated among the Seri and was the first type of tribal clothing. It's also significant that this type continues to be used today, along with suggestive remnants, such as pelican-down wraps for infants and pelican-feather decorations on cradle nets.

The passage from the pelican-skin kilt to the garment of textile fabric under the slow processes of primitive thought may not be traced confidently, though a strong suggestion arises in the Seri hair-cult (a Samsonian faith not without parallel in far higher culture) under which mystical powers and talismanic virtues are imputed to the human pelage. It is in connection with this cult that the Seri locks are so attentively cultivated and so assiduously preserved and consecrated to more intimate personal uses in belts, necklaces, and the like; and although the connecting links have not been found, it is thoroughly 232* in accord with Seri thought to assume that in earlier times the hair necklaces were expanded into rudimentary apparel in connection with pelican-skin shields, and after the conquest of vegetal fibers into more finished garments probably woven partly of hair and worn in such wise as to supplement the natural pelage in the protection of back, shoulders, chest, and arms. If the indication of the tribal cult be valid, it would appear that the wammus was the second piece of apparel in order of genesis, though the first to be made of artificial fabric; and it is noteworthy that the suggestion is supported by the form of the short and free-flowing garment underlying the flowing tresses of warriors and matrons, as well as the vestigial use of human-hair cords for neckbands and fastening strings; while its antiquity in comparison with the textile kilt is indicated by the fact that it is a finished artifact, evidently fitted to its functions by generations of adjustment.

The transition from the pelican-skin kilt to fabric clothing during the slow development of early human thought is unclear. However, there’s a strong hint in the Seri hair-cult (a belief system with some parallels in more advanced cultures) that attributes mystical powers and symbolic significance to human hair. This belief is why the Seri take such great care of their hair, preserving it for personal items like belts and necklaces. While the exact connections are missing, it makes sense within Seri beliefs to think that hair necklaces once evolved into basic clothing items alongside pelican-skin shields. After the development of plant fibers, more refined garments were likely created, possibly woven partly from hair, designed to complement natural hair in protecting the back, shoulders, chest, and arms. If the tribal cult's indications are accurate, the wammus was likely the second type of clothing to emerge, though the first made from synthetic fabric. It’s interesting to note that this idea is backed up by the design of the short, flowing garment worn under the long hair of warriors and women, as well as the leftover use of human-hair cords for neckbands and ties. Its age compared to the textile kilt is also shown by the fact that it is a finished product, clearly shaped for its purpose through generations of refinement.

The step from the making of the wammus to the substitution of artificial fabrics for the pelican-skin kilt was an easy and natural one; and it need only be noted that the transition is still incomplete, since the feathered pelt is unquestioningly substituted for the fabric whenever occasion demands, yet that the kilt in some form must be much more archaic than the wammus, since it is correlated with the pudency sense,293 while the complete garment is not so correlated save in slight and incipient degree.

The transition from making the wammus to using synthetic fabrics instead of pelican-skin kilts was simple and straightforward. It's important to point out that this change isn't fully complete yet, as the feathered pelt is still often used instead of the fabric when necessary. However, the kilt, in any form, must be much older than the wammus because it relates to a sense of modesty, while the complete garment only has a slight and minimal connection to that sense.

Accordingly the three articles of apparel may be seriated genetically as (1) the pelican-skin robe, used long as a kilt, and only lately relegated to emergency use and bedding; (2) the well-differentiated wammus of textile fabric with hair-cord fastenings; and (3) the textile kilt, with or without a hair-cord belt. And the three artifacts are local and presumptively—indeed manifestly—autochthonous, and exemplify the interdependence of artifacts and environment no less strikingly than the Seri balsa or basket or jacal.

Accordingly, the three types of clothing can be organized in a sequence as follows: (1) the pelican-skin robe, which was long worn as a kilt and has only recently been set aside for emergency use and bedding; (2) the clearly defined wammus made of fabric with hair-cord fastenings; and (3) the textile kilt, with or without a hair-cord belt. All three items are local and most likely—indeed clearly—indigenous, showcasing the strong relationship between artifacts and their environment just as strikingly as the Seri balsa, baskets, or jacals.

TOOLS AND THEIR USES

In advanced culture tools are finished products, made and used in accordance with preconceived designs or established arts for the production of commodities; in primal life (as well exemplified by Seri handicraft) tools are mere by-products incidental to the largely instinctive activities directed toward the maintenance of life. Accordingly, the tools of advanced culture form the nucleus of industries, while the designless tools of the prime cluster about the outskirts of industrial 233* activities; i. e., in developed industries the tool is a primary factor, while in nascent industries it is but a collateral.

In advanced cultures, tools are finished products created and used based on planned designs or established methods for producing goods. In simpler societies, like those using Seri handicrafts, tools are just by-products of mostly instinctual activities focused on survival. As a result, the tools of advanced cultures are central to industries, while the unrefined tools of primitive societies are more on the fringes of industrial activities. In developed industries, tools are essential, while in emerging industries, they are merely supplementary. 233*

The tools of any primitive tribe may be defined as appliances used primarily in the production of implements and utensils, and incidentally in preparing food, making habitations, manufacturing apparel, building vehicles or vessels, etc.—in short, the appliances used in producing devices for the maintenance of active life. The definition emphasizes both the dearth and the undifferentiated character of Seri tools; for the appliances used in the production of devices are exceedingly few, and are commonly employed also in food-getting or in other vital industries.

The tools of any primitive tribe can be described as items primarily used to create tools and utensils, and secondarily for preparing food, building shelters, making clothes, constructing vehicles or boats, etc.—essentially, the items used to create things necessary for everyday life. This definition highlights both the scarcity and the lack of variety in Seri tools; the tools used to make these devices are very limited and are often also used in gathering food or other essential activities.


Perhaps the most conspicuous general fact in connection with Seri tools and their uses is the prevalence of natural objects employed either (1) in ways suggested by natural functions or (2) in ways determined by the convenience of users; the former grading into artificial devices shaped in similitude of natural objects and employed in ways suggested by natural functions.

Perhaps the most obvious general fact about Seri tools and how they are used is the widespread use of natural objects either (1) in ways guided by their natural functions or (2) in ways based on what is convenient for the users; the former blending into artificial tools that are shaped like natural objects and used in ways inspired by their natural functions.

Prominent among the natural objects employed in natural ways are mandibles of birds, used in piercing pelts and fabrics; fish spines and bones, also used as piercers; thorns of cacti and mimosas, used in similar ways: teeth and horns of game animals, used in rending their own tissues, and afterward in miscellaneous industrial processes; together with cane splints, used for incising. Frequently the employment of such objects is mere improvisation; yet, so far as could be ascertained through direct observation at Costa Rica, through Mashém’s incomplete accounts, and through inquiries from residents on the frontier, even the improvisations are made in accordance with regular custom firmly fixed by associations—quite in the way, indeed, of primitive life generally, and of the physiologic and psychic processes from which primitive custom is so largely borrowed. With these objects may be grouped the turtle-shells and pelican-pelts used as shields against alien and animal enemies or as protectors against the elements; and the Seri sages would class with them, the deer-head masks and deer-hoof rattles worn in the dance to at once symbolize and invoke strength and swiftness. One of the most striking among the artificial devices of symbolic motive is the piercer, or awl, of wood or bone, shaped in imitation of the avian mandible; yet still more significant in a vestigial way (provided the most probable inference as to genesis be valid) is the hard-wood foreshaft of arrow and harpoon, shaped and used in trenchant symbolism of the deadly tooth.

Prominent among the natural objects used in traditional ways are bird beaks, which are used for piercing hides and fabrics; fish spines and bones, also used for piercing; thorns from cacti and mimosas, used in similar ways; teeth and horns from game animals, which are used to tear their own tissues and later in various industrial processes; along with cane splints, used for cutting. Often, the use of such objects is simply improvised; however, based on direct observation in Costa Rica, Mashém’s incomplete reports, and inquiries from local residents, even these improvisations follow established customs rooted in tradition—much like primitive life in general and the physiological and psychological processes that heavily influence primitive customs. Along with these items, there are turtle shells and pelican hides used as shields against enemies and the elements; and the Seri sages would include deer-head masks and deer-hoof rattles worn during dances to symbolize and invoke strength and speed. One of the most striking artificial devices with symbolic meaning is the piercer, or awl, made of wood or bone, shaped like a bird beak; but even more significant in a historical context (assuming the most likely inference about its origin is accurate) is the hard-wood foreshaft of arrows and harpoons, crafted and used as a symbolic representation of the lethal tooth.

There are two conspicuous classes of natural objects employed in ways determined largely by the convenience of the users, viz., (a) marine shells and (b) beach pebbles.

There are two noticeable types of natural objects used mainly for the convenience of the users, namely, (a) marine shells and (b) beach pebbles.

The marine shells applied industrially comprise the prevailing local genera, Cardium, Mactra, Arca, Chama, and others. They are used ordinarily as drinking-cups, dishes, dippers, receptacles for fats and face-paints, 234* and as small utensils generally; and they are used nearly as commonly for scraping skins, severing animal and plant tissues, digging graves and waterholes, propelling balsas, and especially for scraping reeds and sticks and okatilla stems in the manufacture of arrows, harpoons, bows, balsas, and jacal-frames—indeed, the seashell is the Seri familiar, the ever-present handmate and helper, the homologue of the Anglo-Saxon Jack with his hundred word-compounds, a half-personified reflex of habitual action and thought. Ordinarily—always, so far as is known—the shells are used in the natural state, i. e., either in the condition of capture and opening for the removal of the animal, or in the condition of finding on the beach. For certain purposes the fresh and sharp-edged shell is doubtless preferable, and for others the well-worn specimen (like the paint-cup illustrated in plate XXVII) is chosen; but everything indicates that the need for smoothed shells is met by selecting wave-worn specimens, and nothing indicates that the value of the appliance is deemed to be enhanced by wear of use—in fact, the abundance of abandoned shells about the rancherias and camp sites, and over all Seriland for that matter, indicates that the objects are discarded as easily as they are found along the prolific shores.

The marine shells used industrially include the common local types, Cardium, Mactra, Arca, Chama, and others. They are typically used as drinking cups, dishes, dippers, containers for fats and face paints, 234* and as small utensils in general. They are almost as commonly used for scraping skins, cutting animal and plant materials, digging graves and waterholes, propelling balsas, and especially for scraping reeds and sticks to make arrows, harpoons, bows, balsas, and jacal frames—indeed, the seashell is a familiar, ever-present companion and helper for the Seri, similar to the Anglo-Saxon Jack with his many word compounds, serving as a semi-personified reflection of routine actions and thoughts. Typically—always, as far as is known—the shells are used in their natural state, meaning either as captured and opened to remove the animal, or found on the beach. For certain uses, a fresh and sharp-edged shell is certainly better, while for others, a well-worn shell (like the paint cup shown in plate XXVII) is preferred; however, everything suggests that the preference for smoothed shells is fulfilled by choosing wave-worn examples, and there’s no indication that the value of the item increases with wear—actually, the abundance of discarded shells around the rancherias and campsites, and throughout all of Seriland, shows that these objects are thrown away as easily as they are found along the abundant shores.

Next to the shells, the most abundant industrial appliances of the Seri are beach pebbles or cobbles. They are used for crushing shell and bone, for rending the skins of larger animals, for severing tendons and splintering bones, as well as for grinding or crushing seeds, uprooting canes, chopping trees and branches, driving stakes, and for the multifarious minor purposes connected with the manufacture of arrows and balsas and jacales; they are also the favorite women’s weapons in warfare and the chase, and are sometimes used in similar wise by the warriors. The material for these appliances paves half the shores of Seriland, and is available in shiploads; and its use not only illustrates Seri handicraft in several significant aspects, but illumines one of the more obscure stages in the technologic development of mankind.

Next to the shells, the most common tools used by the Seri are beach pebbles or cobbles. They are used for crushing shell and bone, for skinning larger animals, for cutting tendons and breaking bones, as well as for grinding or crushing seeds, uprooting plants, chopping trees and branches, driving stakes, and for various minor tasks related to making arrows and balsas and jacales. They are also the preferred weapons for women in warfare and hunting, and are sometimes used in the same way by male warriors. This material covers half the shores of Seriland and is available in loads; its use not only showcases Seri craftsmanship in several important ways, but also sheds light on a more obscure phase in the technological development of humanity.


The cobble-stone implements of the Seri range from pebbles to bowlders, and there is a corresponding range in function from light hand-implements at one end of the series to unwieldy anvils and metates at the other end. The intermediate sizes are not infrequently utilized, and are customarily used interchangeably, the smaller of any two used in conjunction serving as the hand implement and the larger as the anvil or metate; yet there is a fairly definite clustering of the objects about two types, a larger and more stationary class, and a smaller and more portable one.

The cobblestone tools of the Seri range from small pebbles to large boulders, and their functions vary widely—from lightweight hand tools on one end to heavy anvils and grinding stones on the other. The medium sizes are often used, typically interchangeably, with the smaller of any two serving as the hand tool and the larger as the anvil or grinding stone. However, there’s a clear grouping of these tools into two types: a larger, stationary category and a smaller, more portable one.

The Seri designation for the larger stone implement is that applied to rock generally, viz., ahst (the vowel broad, as in “father”); and it seems probable that the term is onomatopoetic, or mimetic of the sound produced in the use of the implement as a metate, and that its application to rocks generally is secondary. The designation applied to the 235* smaller implement is hupf or kupf (the initial sound explosive, combining the phonetic values of h and k; the vowel nearly as in “put”, or like “oo” in “took”); the term is clearly an onomatope, imitating the sound of the blow delivered on flesh, on a mass of partially crushed mesquite beans, etc.—indeed, both the word and the sound of the blow seem to connote food or eating, while regular pounding with the implement (either in ordinary use or by special design) is a gathering signal. So far as ascertained, the term is not extended to other objects save potential implements in the form of suitable pebbles; but it is significant that there is no distinction in speech—nor in thought, so far as could be ascertained—between the natural pebble and the wear-shaped implement.294 The local terms ahst and hupf are explicit and specific, and without precise equivalents in other known tongues; moreover, the objects designated are too inchoate in development and hence too protean in function to be appropriately denoted by the designations of implements pertaining to more differentiated culture (mortar, metate, pestle, muller, mano, etc.). Accordingly it seems desirable to retain the Seri designations.295

The Seri name for the larger stone tool is what they use for rocks in general, which is ahst (with a broad vowel, like in “father”); it seems likely that this term is onomatopoeic, mimicking the sound made when using the tool as a metate, and its broader application to rocks is likely secondary. The name for the smaller tool is hupf or kupf (starting with an explosive sound that combines the sounds of h and k; the vowel is similar to “put”, or like “oo” in “took”); this term clearly imitates the sound made when striking flesh or a pile of partially crushed mesquite beans, etc.—both the word and the sound of the impact seem to suggest food or eating, while consistent pounding with the tool (whether used in everyday tasks or for specific purposes) signals gathering. As far as known, this term isn't used for other objects except for potential tools made from suitable pebbles; however, it's worth noting that there's no difference in language—or in thought, as far as could be figured out—between a natural pebble and a worn tool.294 The local terms ahst and hupf are clear and specific, and don't have exact equivalents in other languages; additionally, the objects they refer to are too basic in their development and therefore too flexible in function to be accurately described by the names of tools from more advanced cultures (such as mortar, metate, pestle, muller, mano, etc.). For this reason, it seems best to preserve the Seri names.295

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIV

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

DOMESTIC ANVIL, SIDE

Domestic Anvil, Side

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXV

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

DOMESTIC ANVIL, TOP

HOME ANVIL, TOP

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVI

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

DOMESTIC ANVIL, BOTTOM

BOTTOM DOMESTIC ANVIL

A typical specimen of intermediate size, used commonly as an ahst, but susceptible of employment as a hupf, is illustrated (natural size) in plates XXXV and XXXVI.296 It is a hard, tough, hornblende-granite or greenstone, with a few structure-lines brought out by weathering and wave-wearing. Its weight is 4 pounds 10 ounces (2.10 kilograms); its form and surface are entirely natural, save for slight battering shown on the two principal faces and still less conspicuous bruises along one edge (as imperfectly shown toward the left of plate XXXV). The specimen was found in a jacal (illustrated in plate VI) on Rada Ballena, within a few hours after abandonment, in the position in which it was hastily left by the last users; it was smeared with blood and fat (which still remain, as is shown in plate XXXV) and bits of flesh, and bore bloody finger prints of two sizes—those of a man and those of a woman or large child; beside it lay the hupf depicted in plate XLII. In its last use the unwieldly cobble served as an ahst, but the markings on the edge record use also as a hand implement.

A typical specimen of medium size, commonly used as an ahst but also suitable for use as a hupf, is shown (natural size) in plates XXXV and XXXVI.296 It is a hard, tough hornblende-granite or greenstone, with a few structural lines highlighted by weathering and wave erosion. Its weight is 4 pounds 10 ounces (2.10 kilograms); its shape and surface are completely natural, except for slight chipping visible on the two main faces and even less noticeable dents along one edge (as imperfectly shown toward the left of plate XXXV). The specimen was discovered in a jacal (shown in plate VI) on Rada Ballena, just a few hours after it was abandoned, in the position where it was quickly left by the last users; it was smeared with blood and fat (which still remain, as shown in plate XXXV) and bits of flesh, and it had bloody fingerprints of two sizes—those of a man and those of a woman or large child; next to it lay the hupf depicted in plate XLII. In its last use, the awkward cobble served as an ahst, but the marks on the edge also indicate it was used as a hand tool.

A functionally similar implement is illustrated in plate XXXVII (on reduced scale; maximum length 8¼ inches=21.0 cm.). It is of tough 236* but slightly vesicular and pulverulent volcanic tuff, pinkish-buff in color, and weighs 4 pounds 1 ounce (1.84 kilograms). The form and surface are almost wholly natural, save for slight battering about the larger end and severer battering, with the dislodgment of a flake, about the thinner end; yet the faces are smeared with blood and grease and flecked with turtle debris, and bear a few marks of hupf blows, as is shown in the reproduction. This specimen was found at a temporary camp of a small party on Punta Miguel, where it had been used in breaking up a turtle—the camp having been abandoned so precipitately that a considerable part of the quarry, with this hupf, the ahst illustrated in plate LIV, the turtle-harpoon shown in figure 20, the half-made fire, and the fire-sticks used in kindling it, were left behind. The specimen is a good example of the cobbles carried into portions of the territory lacking the material (the camp at which it was found was on the great sandspit forming the eastern barrier of Boca Infierno, several miles from the nearest pebbly shore); it is of less specific gravity than the average rocks of the region, and looks still lighter by reason of its color and texture. Similar cobbles abound along the eastern coast of Tiburon, being derived from the immense volcanic masses of Sierra Kunkaak.

A similar tool is shown in plate XXXVII (on a smaller scale; maximum length 8¼ inches = 21.0 cm). It’s made of tough but slightly porous volcanic tuff, pinkish-buff in color, and weighs 4 pounds 1 ounce (1.84 kilograms). The shape and surface are mostly natural, except for some minor wear at the larger end and more significant wear, with a flake chipped off, at the thinner end; however, the surfaces are smeared with blood and grease, flecked with turtle remains, and showing a few marks from strikes, as depicted in the reproduction. This artifact was discovered at a temporary camp of a small group on Punta Miguel, where it had been used to break up a turtle—the camp was abandoned so quickly that a large portion of the catch, along with this tool, the ahst shown in plate LIV, the turtle harpoon illustrated in figure 20, an unfinished fire, and the fire-starting sticks, were left behind. The artifact is an excellent example of the cobbles brought into areas lacking that kind of material (the camp where it was found was on the large sandspit that forms the eastern barrier of Boca Infierno, several miles from the nearest pebbly shore); it has a lower specific gravity than the average rocks in the area and appears even lighter due to its color and texture. Similar cobbles are plentiful along the eastern coast of Tiburon, coming from the massive volcanic formations of Sierra Kunkaak.

About the more permanent rancherias and on many abandoned sites lie ahsts usually too heavy for convenient transportation. In the habitable jacales such stones form regular household appurtenances, without which the menage is deemed incomplete; though the implement is commonly kicked about at random, often buried in debris (perhaps to be completely lost, and brought to light only by geologic changes, as demonstrated by the shell-heap of Punta Antigualla), and pressed into service only in case of need. An exceptionally well-worn specimen of the kind is illustrated in plate XXXVIII (scale one-half linear; maximum width measured on base, 9¼ inches=23.5 cm.). The material is a hard, ferruginous, almost jaspery quartzite, somewhat obscurely laminated. It weighs 10 pounds 11 ounces (4.85 kilograms). It is a natural slab, evidently from a talus rather than the shore, its native locus being probably the western slope of Sierra Seri. The edges and apex are formed by natural fractures; the most-used face (that shown in the plate) is a natural structure plane; the obverse side is partly a similar plane, partly irregular; while the base is an irregular fracture, evidently due to accident after the specimen had been long in use, though the fracture occurred years or decades ago, as indicated by the weathering of the surfaces. The entire face of the slab is worn and more or less polished by use as a metate, the wear culminating toward the center of the base (evidently the center of the original slab), where the hollowing reaches some three-sixteenths of an inch (5 mm.); yet even in the depths of the incipient basin the polished surface is broken by irregular pitting of a sort indicating occasional use as an anvil. The edges are quite unworn, but the smoother portion of the obverse is 237* worn and polished like the face, though to a less degree. The specimen was found at a recently occupied jacal, midway between Punta Antigualla and Punta Ygnacio; it lay in the position of use, though half concealed by a cholla thrown over it, with the hupf shown in plate LVI; it was soaked with fat and smeared with the debris and intestinal contents of a turtle, as partly shown in the illustration.

About the more permanent rancherias and many abandoned sites, there are often heavy stones that are not convenient for transportation. In the habitable jacales, these stones become essential household items; without them, the home is seen as incomplete. Even though these tools are usually kicked around randomly and often buried under debris (sometimes lost completely and revealed only by geological changes, as shown by the shell-heap of Punta Antigualla), they are used only when necessary. An exceptionally well-used example is shown in plate XXXVIII (scale half linear; maximum width at the base is 9¼ inches=23.5 cm.). The material is a hard, iron-rich, almost jasper-like quartzite, somewhat obscurely layered. It weighs 10 pounds 11 ounces (4.85 kilograms). It is a natural slab, likely from a talus rather than the shore, originating from the western slope of Sierra Seri. The edges and top are formed by natural breaks; the most used face (shown in the plate) is a natural structural plane; the reverse side is partly similar and partly irregular; while the base shows an irregular fracture, evidently from an accident after the specimen had been in use for a long time, though the break happened years or decades ago, as shown by the weathering of the surfaces. The whole face of the slab is worn and somewhat polished from being used as a metate, with the wear deepest towards the center of the base (clearly the center of the original slab), where the hollow reaches about three-sixteenths of an inch (5 mm.); however, even in the depths of the shallow basin, the polished surface is marred by irregular pitting, indicating occasional use as an anvil. The edges are mostly unworn, but the smoother part of the other side is worn and polished like the main face, though to a lesser extent. The specimen was found at a recently occupied jacal, midway between Punta Antigualla and Punta Ygnacio; it was in a position of use but half-covered by a cholla thrown over it, with the hupf shown in plate LVI; it was soaked with fat and smeared with the debris and intestinal contents of a turtle, as partly shown in the illustration.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIO TYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

DOMESTIC ANVIL (REDUCED), TOP AND SIDE

DOMESTIC ANVIL (REDUCED), TOP AND SIDE

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXVIII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

The Heliotype Printing Co., Boston

METATE (REDUCED), EDGE AND TOP

METATE (REDUCED), EDGE AND TOP

The largest ahst seen in Seriland is illustrated in plates XXXIX and XL, on a scale of one-third linear (its maximum length being 15⅜ inches=39.5 cm.); it is a dark, fine-grained silicious schist or quartzite, quite obscurely laminated; it weighs 33 pounds 8 ounces (15.20 kilograms). It is a natural slab, probably washed from a talus and slightly wave-worn; it might have come originally from either the southwestern flanks of Sierra Seri or the more southerly half of Sierra Kunkaak—certainly hundreds of similar slabs strew the eastern shore of Bahia Kunkaak, while the western shore, especially about Punta Narragansett, would yield thousands. Its artificial features (aside from miscellaneous battering) are limited to grinding of the two faces defined by structure planes. The principal face is abraded into an oblong or spoon-shape basin, about 8 inches (20 cm.) long, 5 inches (16 cm.) broad, and fully three-fourths of an inch (2 cm.) deep, the basin penetrating two or three laminæ of the slab in such wise as to produce the annular markings faintly shown in plate XXXIX; the obverse is slightly rubbed and ground and somewhat battered, like the face of the preceding specimen; and both sides are flecked with a fine but dark flour-like substance (doubtless derived from grinding mesquite beans, etc.) forced into the texture of the stone by the grinding process. The entire slab is greasy and blood-stained, while battered spots about the edges and angles of the principal face record considerable use as an anvil for breaking up quarry—indeed, shreds of turtle flesh and bits of intestinal debris still lodge in some of the interstices. The specimen was taken from the old rancheria at the base of Punta Tormenta, where it had apparently been in desultory use for generations.

The largest ahst found in Seriland is shown in plates XXXIX and XL, on a scale of one-third linear (its maximum length is 15⅜ inches, or 39.5 cm). It is a dark, fine-grained silicious schist or quartzite, with a somewhat unclear laminated structure. It weighs 33 pounds 8 ounces (15.20 kilograms). This is a natural slab, likely washed from a talus and slightly worn by waves; it probably originated from either the southwestern slopes of Sierra Seri or the more southern part of Sierra Kunkaak—definitely, hundreds of similar slabs cover the eastern shore of Bahia Kunkaak, while the western shore, especially around Punta Narragansett, would have thousands. Its artificial features (besides various wear marks) are mainly the grinding on the two faces defined by structural planes. The main face is shaped into an oblong or spoon-like basin, about 8 inches (20 cm) long, 5 inches (16 cm) wide, and approximately three-fourths of an inch (2 cm) deep, cutting through two or three layers of the slab, which creates the ring-like markings faintly visible in plate XXXIX; the opposite side is slightly rubbed and ground and somewhat battered, similar to the face of the previous specimen; both sides are sprinkled with a fine but dark powdery substance (likely from grinding mesquite beans and similar items) pressed into the stone's texture by the grinding process. The entire slab is greasy and stained with blood, while battered spots along the edges and angles of the main face show it was heavily used as an anvil for breaking up materials—in fact, bits of turtle meat and pieces of intestines are still stuck in some of the crevices. The specimen was taken from the old rancheria at the base of Punta Tormenta, where it seems to have been used sporadically for generations.

A sort of connecting link between ahst and hupf is afforded by elongate beach pebbles, such as that illustrated in plate XLI, which lay beside the large ahst last described, and which bears a few inconspicuous marks of use in slight battering at both ends, with a few shreds of turtle flesh about the blunter extremity (at the right on the plate). The specimen is shown natural size; it is of pinkish-gray trachyte (?), and weighs 1 pound 12 ounces (0.79 kilograms). It is noteworthy chiefly as an illustration of the Seri mode of seizing and using hand-implements (a mode repeatedly observed at Costa Rica in 1894); the pebble comfortably fits the Caucasian hand, held hammerwise; it is intuitively grasped in this way, and when so seized and used with an outward swing forms an effective implement for bone-crushing, etc., the natural striking-point being near the free end; but the centripetally moving Seri invariably seizes the specimen in such manner that the 238* free end is directed inward, while the thumb laps over the grasped end, when the strokes are directed downward and inward, the striking-point being the extreme tip of the free end. A similar specimen is illustrated in plate XLII. It is of tough and homogeneous hornblende-granite, somewhat shorter and broader than its homologue, but of exactly the same weight; it, too, is battered at the ends, but is otherwise quite natural in form. It was collected at Rada Ballena in conjunction with the ahst illustrated in plate XXXV; and like that specimen it is soaked with blood and fat, and bore shreds of flesh when found. Both these elongate cobbles are of interest as representatives of a somewhat aberrant type; for the favorite form of hupf is shorter and thicker, as shown by the prevailing shapes, both in use and lying about the jacales—indeed, the elongate form is seldom used on the coast and never carried into the interior.

A kind of connection between ahst and hupf is provided by long beach pebbles, like the one shown in plate XLI, which lies next to the large ahst described earlier. It has a few subtle signs of use, with slight wear at both ends and some bits of turtle flesh near the blunter end (on the right side of the plate). The specimen is shown at its actual size; it's a pinkish-gray trachyte (?), weighing 1 pound 12 ounces (0.79 kilograms). It's mainly noteworthy as an example of how the Seri people grab and use hand tools (a method observed multiple times in Costa Rica in 1894); the pebble fits comfortably in a Caucasian hand when held like a hammer. It’s instinctively gripped this way and, when swung outward, makes an effective tool for crushing bones, with the natural striking point near the free end. However, the centripetally moving Seri always picks up the specimen with the free end facing inward, while the thumb rests over the grasped end. This way, the strikes are directed downward and inward, with the striking point being the very tip of the free end. A similar specimen is depicted in plate XLII. It’s made of tough, uniform hornblende-granite, a bit shorter and wider than its counterpart, but weighs exactly the same. It also shows wear at the ends but otherwise maintains its natural shape. It was collected at Rada Ballena alongside the ahst illustrated in plate XXXV, and like that specimen, it was soaked in blood and fat and had bits of flesh when found. Both of these elongated cobbles are interesting as examples of a somewhat unusual type since the preferred form of hupf is shorter and thicker, as seen in the common shapes both in use and found around the jacales—indeed, the elongated form is rarely used on the coast and never taken into the interior.

A typical hupf is illustrated in plate XLIII. The specimen is of fine-grained, dense, and massive quartzite, its homogeneity being interrupted only by a thin seam of infiltrated silica and by an obscure structure-plane brought out by weathering toward the thinner end. Its weight is 1 pound 14 ounces (0.85 kilogram). In general form and surface the specimen is an absolutely natural pebble, such as may be found in thousands along the shores of Seriland. Its artificial features are limited to slight battering about the edges, especially at the thinner end; partial polishing of the lateral edges by repeated handling (as imperfectly shown in the edge view); very perceptible polishing of both faces by use as a grinder; some fire-blackening on both sides; semisaturation with grease and blood; and the flecks of red face-paint shown in the reproduction. The specimen was obtained at Costa Rica after some days’ observation of its use. The chief observed functions of this implement were as follows: (1) Skinning the leg of a partially consumed horse; this was done by means of centripetal (i. e., downward and inward) blows, so directed that the thinner end fell obliquely on the tissue, bruising and tearing it with considerable rapidity. (2) Severing tough tendons already sawed nearly through by rubbing over the edge of an ahst, the hupf in this case being in the hands of a coadjutor and used in rather random strokes whenever the tissue seemed particularly refractory. (3) Knocking off the parboiled hoof of a horse to give access to the coffinbone. (4) Crushing and splintering bones to facilitate sucking of the marrow. (5) Grinding mesquite beans; the process being begun by vertical blows with the end of the implement on a heap of the pods resting on an ahst, continued by blows with the side, and finished by kneading and rubbing motions similar to those of grinding on a metate. (6) Pounding shelled corn mixed with slack lime, in a ludicrously futile attempt to imitate Mexican cookery. (7) Chopping trees; in this case the implement was grasped in the centripetal manner and used in pounding and bruising the wood at the point of greatest bending under the pull of a coadjutor. (8) Cleaving and 239* breaking wood for fuel. (9) Dethorning okatilla stems, by sweeping centripetal strokes delivered adzwise from top toward butt of a bunch of stems lying on the ground. (10) Severing a stout hair cord; in this use it was grasped between the knees of a matron squatting on the ground, while the cord was held in both hands and sawed to and fro over the use-roughened thinner end. (11) Supporting a kettle (shown in plate X) as one of the fire-stones used in frontier mimicry of the Papago custom. (12) Triturating face-paint by pounding and kneading; in one case the specimen served as a hand implement, while in another case it took the place of the ahst, the ocher lump itself being struck and rubbed against it. (13) Beating a troop of dogs from a pile of bedding in a jacal; in this use the implement was held in the customary manner and used in swift centripetal blows, the matron relying on her own swiftness and reach and not at all on projection to come within reach of her moving targets; the blows usually landed well astern, and were so vicious and vigorous as to have killed the agile brutes had they chanced to fall squarely—indeed, one blow temporarily paralyzed a large cur, which escaped only by running on its fore feet and dragging its hind quarters. In most of these uses the specimen was employed in conjunction with an improvised ahst in the form of a stone carried from the rancho. Several of the processes, notably those of tissue-tearing and dog-beating, were executed with a vigor and swiftness quite distinct from the sluggish lounging of the ordinary daytide and, indeed, partaking of the fierce exaltation normal to the Seri chase. When not in use the implement usually lay just within the open end of the owner’s jacal, though it was often displaced and sometimes kicked about the patio for hours. It was one of perhaps a dozen similar implements brought across the desert from the coast by as many matrons. All were regarded as personal belongings pertaining to the custodians about as definitely as articles of apparel, though rather freely loaned, especially in the owner’s clan. The specimen was purchased from the possessor, who parted from it rather reluctantly, though with the tacit approval of her clanswomen, at a rate implying considerable appreciation of real or supposed value. Three or four other matrons declined to barter their hupfs, either arbitrarily or on the plea that they were a long way from the source of supply.

A typical hupf is shown in plate XLIII. The specimen is made of fine-grained, dense, and solid quartzite, with its uniformity only disturbed by a thin layer of infiltrated silica and a subtle structure-plane revealed by weathering at the thinner end. Its weight is 1 pound 14 ounces (0.85 kilogram). In overall shape and surface, the specimen looks like a completely natural pebble that you could find by the thousands along the coasts of Seriland. Its artificial features include slight chipping around the edges, especially at the thinner end; partial polishing of the lateral edges from repeated handling (not very clearly shown in the edge view); noticeable polishing on both faces from use as a grinder; some fire-blackening on both sides; partial saturation with grease and blood; and the specks of red face paint visible in the reproduction. The specimen was obtained in Costa Rica after several days of observing its use. The primary functions observed for this tool were: (1) Skinning the leg of a partially eaten horse, done with downward and inward strikes, directing the thinner end at an angle onto the tissue, bruising and tearing it quickly. (2) Cutting tough tendons that were nearly severed from rubbing against the edge of an ahst, with the hupf being held by another person and used with random strikes whenever the tissue was especially tough. (3) Removing the parboiled hoof of a horse to access the coffin bone. (4) Crushing and splintering bones to make it easier to suck out the marrow. (5) Grinding mesquite beans; starting with vertical strikes using the end of the tool on a pile of pods on an ahst, continuing with side strikes, and finishing with kneading and rubbing motions like grinding on a metate. (6) Pounding shelled corn mixed with slack lime in a hilariously futile attempt to imitate Mexican cooking. (7) Chopping down trees; in this case, the tool was held in a centripetal manner and used to pound and bruise the wood at the point of greatest stress. (8) Splitting and breaking wood for fuel. (9) Removing thorns from okatilla stems by sweeping centripetal strokes from the top down to the base of a bunch of stems on the ground. (10) Cutting a strong hair cord; in this case, it was held between the knees of a woman squatting on the ground while the cord was held in both hands and sawed back and forth over the use-worn thinner end. (11) Supporting a kettle (shown in plate X) as one of the fire-stones used in imitating the Papago custom. (12) Grinding face paint by pounding and kneading; sometimes the specimen was used as a handheld tool, and at other times it replaced the ahst, with the ocher lump being struck and rubbed against it. (13) Hitting a group of dogs out of a bedding pile in a jacal; in this case, the tool was handled in the usual way and used in quick centripetal strikes, with the woman depending on her speed and reach rather than throwing it to hit her moving targets; the strikes usually landed behind the dogs, and were so powerful that they could have killed the agile animals if the strikes had landed squarely—indeed, one strike temporarily paralyzed a large dog, which managed to escape by running on its front legs and dragging its back end. In most of these instances, the tool was used alongside an improvised ahst made from a stone carried from the ranch. Several processes, especially those involving tearing tissue and hitting dogs, were performed with a force and speed that were quite different from the sluggish pace of ordinary daily life, and resembled the intense excitement typical of the Seri hunt. When not in use, the tool usually rested just inside the open end of its owner’s jacal, though it often got moved and sometimes kicked around the patio for hours. It was one of about a dozen similar tools brought across the desert from the coast by as many women. All were considered personal possessions belonging to their owners as definitely as clothing, though they were shared fairly freely, especially within the owner’s clan. The specimen was bought from its owner, who reluctantly parted with it, though with the agreement of her clanmates, at a price that indicated significant recognition of its real or perceived value. Three or four other women refused to trade their hupfs, either arbitrarily or claiming they were far from where they could get more.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XXXIX

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

LONG-USED METATE (REDUCED), TOP

LONG-USED METATE (REDUCED), TOP

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XL

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XL

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

LONG-USED METATE (REDUCED), BOTTOM

LONG-USED METATE (REDUCED), BASE

A common variety of hupf is illustrated in plate XLIV. It is of pinkish, slaty tuff of rather low specific gravity, somewhat vesicular and pulverulent, though moderately hard and tough. It weighs 17 ounces (0.48 kilogram). In form and surface it is essentially a wave-worn pebble, doubtless derived originally from the volcanic deposits of Sierra Kunkaak. Its artificial markings are limited to slight battering about the edges, especially at the thinner end (as shown in the edge view); slight rubbing, striation, and semipolishing of the smoother face (shown in the plate); a few grease spots and a stain showing use in crushing sappy vegetal matter, also on this face; and an inconspicuous 240* fire-mark on the obverse. It was found in a recently abandoned jacal near Campo Navidad. It is one of the three tuff specimens among those collected, one of a dozen or two seen; perhaps 10 per cent of the implements observed in Seriland are of this material, and it is significant that this ratio is several times larger than the proportion of tuff pebbles to the entire paving of the beaches, so that the material seems to be a preferred one. The preference was indeed discovered at Costa Rica in 1894, where two or three of the more highly prized hupfs were of this material, and where vague intimations were obtained that it is especially favored for meal-making, doubtless by reason of the association of color and texture—associations that mean much to the primitive mind, perhaps in suggesting that the grinding is easier when done by a soft implement. An economic reason for the preference is easily found in the lower specific gravity, and hence the greater portability of a hupf of ordinary size, of this material; but there is nothing to indicate that this economic factor is weighed or even apperceived by the Seri.

A typical type of hupf is shown in plate XLIV. It’s made of pinkish, slaty tuff with a fairly low density, somewhat porous and crumbly, yet reasonably hard and durable. It weighs 17 ounces (0.48 kilograms). In shape and texture, it resembles a wave-worn pebble, likely originating from the volcanic deposits of Sierra Kunkaak. The artificial signs of use are limited to slight wear around the edges, especially at the thinner end (as shown in the edge view); minor rubbing, striations, and semi-polishing on the smoother face (shown in the plate); a few grease spots and a stain indicating use for crushing soft plant material, also on this face; and a subtle fire mark on the front. It was found in a recently abandoned jacal near Campo Navidad. This is one of the three tuff specimens collected, among a dozen or two observed; about 10 percent of the tools seen in Seriland are made from this material, notably higher than the ratio of tuff pebbles to the total beach paving, indicating it’s a preferred choice. This preference was noted in Costa Rica in 1894, where two or three of the more valued hupfs were made from this material, and there were hints that it’s especially favored for grinding food, likely due to the color and texture associations that matter a lot to early humans, perhaps suggesting that grinding is easier with a softer tool. An economic reason for this preference can be seen in the lower density, making a hupf of regular size made from this material easier to carry; however, there’s no evidence that the Seri are even aware of or consider this economic factor.

A typical pebble bearing slight marks of use is illustrated in plate XLV. It is of fine-grained pinkish sandstone, probably tuffaceous, and is fairly hard and quite tough; it weighs 1 pound 9 ounces (0.71 kilogram). It is wholly natural in form and surface save for slight battering or pecking on the face illustrated, and for a few stains of grease and abundant marks of fire. It was found in a fire still burning (and abandoned within a half-hour, as indicated by other signs) two or three miles inland from Punta Granita on the Seri trail toward Aguaje Parilla, whither it had evidently been carried from the coast.

A typical pebble with slight signs of use is shown in plate XLV. It is made of fine-grained pinkish sandstone, probably tuffaceous, and is quite hard and tough; it weighs 1 pound 9 ounces (0.71 kilogram). Its shape and surface are entirely natural, except for some minor battering or pecking on the face shown, along with a few grease stains and many fire marks. It was discovered in a fire that was still burning (which had been abandoned within half an hour, as shown by other evidence) two or three miles inland from Punta Granita on the Seri trail toward Aguaje Parilla, from where it had clearly been transported from the coast.

A fairly common material for both hupfs and ahsts is highly vesicular basalt grading into pumice stone, the material corresponding fairly with a favorite metate material among the Mexicans. The rock was not certainly traced to its source, but seems to come from the northern part of Sierra Kunkaak. A typical hupf of this material is shown in plate XLVI; it weighs 1 pound 13 ounces (0.82 kilogram). It is wholly natural in every respect save for slight grinding and subpolishing, with some filling of interstices, on both faces. From the slight wear of this specimen, together with the absence of battering, and from similar features presented by others of the class, it maybe inferred that implements of this material are habitually used only for grinding—for which purpose they are admirably adapted. The specimen emphasizes the importance of the hupf in Seri thought, for it was one of a small series of mortuary sacrifices from a tomb at Pozo Escalante (ante, p. 290).

A commonly used material for both hupfs and ahsts is highly porous basalt that transitions into pumice stone, which aligns well with a popular metate material among Mexicans. The rock hasn't been definitively traced to its source but appears to originate from the northern part of Sierra Kunkaak. A typical hupf made from this material is shown in plate XLVI; it weighs 1 pound 13 ounces (0.82 kilogram). It is completely natural except for minor grinding and polishing, with some filling of gaps on both sides. Based on the minimal wear of this specimen, along with the lack of damage, and similar characteristics found in others of its kind, it can be inferred that tools made from this material are primarily used for grinding, for which they are perfectly suited. This specimen highlights the significance of the hupf in Seri culture, as it was part of a small series of funerary offerings from a tomb at Pozo Escalante (ante, p. 290).

Throughout the surveys of Seriland, constant search was made for cutting implements of stone; and the nearest approach to success was exemplified by the specimen illustrated in plate XLVII. It is of bluish-gray volcanic rock (not specifically identified) of close texture and decided toughness and hardness; it weighs 10 ounces (0.28 kilogram). In greater part its form and surface are natural, but a projecting portion 241* brought out by weathering on one side is split off, presumably by intention, and the fractured surface thus produced is partly smoothed by rubbing, probably in use, though possibly by design. The edges are more or less battered, especially at the ends, and several rude flakes have been knocked off, evidently at random and presumably in ordinary use as an ahst. The smoother face is wholly natural. The specimen was picked up in a jacal at Rada Ballena, but bore no marks of recent use.

Throughout the surveys of Seriland, there was a constant search for stone tools; the closest success is shown in the specimen illustrated in plate XLVII. It is made of bluish-gray volcanic rock (not specifically identified) that has a fine texture and is notably tough and hard; it weighs 10 ounces (0.28 kilogram). Most of its shape and surface are natural, but a protruding section on one side, exposed by weathering, has been intentionally split off, and the resulting fractured surface is partly smoothed by rubbing, likely from use, though possibly by design. The edges are somewhat battered, particularly at the ends, and several rough flakes have been knocked off, likely randomly and in normal use as a tool. The smoother side is completely natural. The specimen was found in a jacal at Rada Ballena but showed no signs of recent use.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLI

NATURAL PEBBLE BEARING SLIGHT MARKS OF USE

NATURAL PEBBLE WITH MINOR SIGNS OF USE

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

The Heliotype Printing Co., Boston

NATURAL PEBBLE USED AS BONE-CRUSHER

Natural pebble used as a crusher

A tuff implement of suggestively ax-like form is shown in plate XLVIII; it is firmer and less pulverulent but more vesicular than most implements of its class; it weighs but 7 ounces (0.20 kilogram). The specimen was picked up in a ruinous jacal, which had evidently been occupied temporarily within a fortnight, on the summit of the great shell-mound forming Punta Antigualla. The somewhat indefinite texture and color render it difficult to distinguish between natural and artificial features; but careful examination indicates that it is wholly natural in form and in nine-tenths of the surface, and that the ax-like shape expresses nothing more than accidents of structure and wave-work. This interpretation is practically established by the slight battering along the edges and about the smaller end, as illustrated in the edge view; for this wear of use, which has produced a distinctive surface, is practically absent from the notches which give the ax-like effect. Besides the battering, the only artificial marks are ancient fire-stains on one of the faces. On the whole it is clear that the artificial appearance catching the eye at first glance is purely fortuitous, and that the specimen is but a natural pebble very slightly modified by ordinary use.

A tuff tool that looks somewhat like an ax is shown in plate XLVIII; it's sturdier and less powdery but has more air pockets than most tools of its kind. It weighs only 7 ounces (0.20 kilogram). The piece was found in a deteriorating jacal, which had clearly been used temporarily within the last two weeks, on top of the large shell mound forming Punta Antigualla. The somewhat unclear texture and color make it hard to tell apart natural and artificial features; however, a close inspection shows that it is entirely natural in shape for about 90% of its surface, and the ax-like form is just a result of structural accidents and wave action. This conclusion is nearly confirmed by the slight wear along the edges and around the smaller end, as shown in the edge view; this wear from use, which has created a distinct surface, is nearly absent from the notches that give it the ax-like appearance. Other than the wear, the only human marks are old fire stains on one side. Overall, it's evident that the artificial look that catches the eye at first is purely coincidental, and the piece is just a natural pebble that has been very slightly altered by regular use.

A suggestive specimen is illustrated in plate XLIX; it is of purplish-gray granitoid rock, of decided toughness and considerable hardness, and weighs 12½ ounces (0.35 kilogram). The surface and general form indicate that it is a natural pebble entirely without marks of artificial use; but the regular curvature of the principal face (the shape is that of a segment of a cylinder rounded toward the ends) suggests artificial shaping, while it was found far in the interior, near Barranca Salina, whither it must have been carried from the coast. It may possibly be a fragment of a pestle subsequently wave-worn; but all the probabilities are that it is wholly natural, and that its suggestive features are fortuitous.

A notable example is shown in plate XLIX; it is a purplish-gray granitoid rock that is quite tough and hard, weighing 12½ ounces (0.35 kilogram). The surface and overall shape suggest that it is a natural pebble with no signs of human use; however, the smooth curvature of the main face (the shape resembles a rounded segment of a cylinder) hints at some artificial shaping. It was found deep inland, near Barranca Salina, indicating it must have been transported from the coast. It might be a piece of a pestle that was later worn down by waves, but it’s most likely entirely natural, and its intriguing features are probably just coincidental.

The constant search for chipped or flaked tools which was extended over nearly all Seriland seldom met the slightest reward; but the specimen shown in plate L was deemed of some interest in connection with the search. It is of hard and tough greenstone, showing obscure and irregular structure lines, though nearly homogeneous in texture; it weighs 10 ounces (0.28 kilogram). It is primarily a natural pebble with form and surface reflecting structure and texture in connection with wave-action. Its artificial features are limited to the usual slight battering of the smaller end, still less conspicuous battering or grinding 242* of the margin about the larger end, slight but suggestive chipping of the thinner edge, inconspicuous hand-wear and polish on the principal face, and a few obscure scratches or striæ on the same face, as illustrated in the plate. The position and character of the flake-fractures, which are fairly shown in the edge view, indicate that they were made while the pebble was in use as a bruising or cutting tool, a use at once suggested to the Caucasian mind by the form of the pebble; yet it is noteworthy that its thin edge displays less battering than either end of the object and no more than the opposite and thicker edge, while it is still more significant that the specimen was apparently discarded immediately on the modification of form by the spalling—a modification greatly increasing its efficiency, as all habitual users of chipped stone tools would realize. The specimen is one of a large number of examples showing that whenever a hupf is broken in use it is regarded as ruined, and is immediately thrown away. This particular specimen is archaic; it was found in the cliff-face of the great shell-heap at Punta Antigualla, embedded in a tiny stratum of ashes and charcoal (some of which still adheres, as shown in the black flecking at the outer end of the striæ), associated with scorched clam-shells, typical Seri potsherds, etc., some 40 feet beneath the surface.

The ongoing search for chipped or flaked tools across most of Seriland rarely yielded any rewards; however, the item shown in plate L was considered somewhat interesting in relation to the search. It’s made of hard, tough greenstone, displaying unclear and irregular structure lines, although it has a nearly uniform texture; it weighs 10 ounces (0.28 kilogram). It’s essentially a natural pebble with a form and surface that show structure and texture from wave action. Its man-made features are limited to the typical minor chipping at the smaller end, less noticeable chipping or grinding around the larger end, slight yet notable chipping on the thinner edge, subtle hand-wear and polish on the main face, and a few faint scratches or striations on that same face, as depicted in the plate. The position and nature of the flake fractures, which are clearly shown in the edge view, suggest they were made while the pebble was used as a bruising or cutting tool, a use suggested to a Caucasian perspective by the shape of the pebble; however, it’s important to note that its thin edge shows less chipping than either end of the piece and no more than the opposite, thicker edge. It’s also significant that the specimen was likely discarded right after its shape was altered by spalling—a change that greatly improved its efficiency, as anyone accustomed to using chipped stone tools would understand. The specimen represents a large collection of examples showing that whenever a hupf breaks during use, it is considered ruined and is thrown away immediately. This particular specimen is ancient; it was found in the cliff face of the large shell mound at Punta Antigualla, buried in a small layer of ashes and charcoal (some of which still remains, as seen in the black flecks at the outer end of the striations), associated with burnt clam shells, typical Seri pottery fragments, etc., about 40 feet below the surface.

While the great majority of the hupfs are mere pebbles bearing slight trace of artificial wear, as illustrated by the foregoing examples, others bear traces of use so extended as to more or less completely artificialize the surface. A typical long-used hupf is depicted in plates LI and LII. It is a tough and hard quartzite, dark gray or brown in color, massive and homogeneous in texture; it weighs 2 pounds 4 ounces (1.02 kilograms). In general form it is a typical wave-worn pebble of its material, and might be duplicated in thousands along the shores of Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo; but fully a third of its surface has been more or less modified by use. The flatter face (plate LI) is smeared with blood, grease, and charcoal, which have been ground into the stone by friction of the hand of the user in such manner as to form a kind of skin or veneer; portions of the face bear a subpolish, due probably to the hand-rubbing in use; near the center there is a rough pit about an eighth of an inch (3 mm.) deep, evidently produced by pecking or battering with metal, while three or four neighboring scratches penetrating the veneer appear to record ill-directed strokes of a rather sharp metal point. In the light of observed customs it may be inferred that this pitting was produced by use of the implement as an anvil or ahst in sharpening a harpoon-point and fitting it into its foreshaft. The thinner edge (shown in plate LI; that toward the right in the face view on the same plate) displays considerable battering of the kind characteristic of Seri hupfs in general; it is smoked and fire-stained, as shown, while the lower rounded corner is worn away by battering to a depth of probably one-fourth inch (5 mm.). The obverse face reveals more clearly the battering about both corners and edges, 243* including the dislodgment of a flake toward the narrower end; but its most conspicuous feature is a broad subpolished facet (rounding slightly toward the thinner edge) produced by grinding on a flat-surface ahst. This face, too, exhibits fire-staining, while the surface beyond the facet—and to a slight extent the facet itself—is veneered like the other face. There are a few scratches on this side also, as well as a slight pitting due to contact with metal. The thicker edge (plate LII) displays considerable battering, especially a recent pitting near the middle evidently due to use as an anvil held between the knees for sharpening a harpoon point by rude hammering. The specimen was one of a score of implements lying about the interior of the principal jacal in the great rancheria at the base of Punta Tormenta (illustrated in plate VII).

While most of the hupfs are just pebbles with minimal signs of wear, as the previous examples show, some have been used enough that their surfaces are mostly artificially altered. A typical long-used hupf is shown in plates LI and LII. It's a tough, hard quartzite, dark gray or brown, heavy and solid in texture; it weighs 2 pounds 4 ounces (1.02 kilograms). In general, it looks like a typical wave-worn pebble of its kind, which could be found in thousands along the shores of Bahia Kunkaak and El Infiernillo, but about a third of its surface is noticeably modified from use. The flatter side (plate LI) shows traces of blood, grease, and charcoal, ground into the stone by the user's hand, forming a sort of skin or veneer; parts of the surface have a polished appearance, likely from hand rubbing. Near the center, there’s a rough pit about an eighth of an inch (3 mm.) deep, clearly made by pecking or banging with metal, while three or four scratches nearby suggest poorly aimed strikes from a sharp metal point. Based on observed practices, it's reasonable to assume this pitting happened because the tool was used as an anvil or surface for sharpening a harpoon point and fitting it into its foreshaft. The thinner edge (shown in plate LI; the one on the right in the face view on the same plate) shows significant battering typical of Seri hupfs; it’s blackened and stained from fire, as seen, while the lower rounded corner is worn down about one-fourth inch (5 mm.) deep from pounding. The opposite side shows more clearly the battering around both corners and edges, including a flake that’s been knocked off near the narrower end; but its standout feature is a wide, slightly rounded polished area (gradually sloping toward the thinner edge) created by grinding against a flat surface. This side also shows fire stains, and the surface beyond the polished area—along with a small part of the area itself—is also veneered like the other side. There are a few scratches on this side too, along with some pitting from contact with metal. The thicker edge (plate LII) shows considerable battering, particularly a fresh pit near the center likely from being used as an anvil held between the knees for roughly hammering a harpoon point. The specimen was one of many tools found inside the main jacal at the large rancheria at the base of Punta Tormenta (illustrated in plate VII).

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

LITTLE-WORN PEBBLE USED FOR ALL DOMESTIC PURPOSES

LITTLE-WORN PEBBLE USED FOR ALL DOMESTIC PURPOSES

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIV

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE USED AS CRUSHER AND GRINDER

NATURAL PEBBLE USED AS A CRUSHER AND GRINDER

A related specimen, though of somewhat aberrant form, is illustrated in plate LIII. It is of peculiarly tough and quite hard greenstone and weighs 2 pounds 1 ounce (0.93 kilogram). Somewhat less than half of the surface is that of a wave-worn pebble; the remainder is either battered out of all semblance to wave-work, or thumb-worn by long-continued use. The object well illustrates the choice of the most prominently projecting portion of the hand-implement as the point of percussion, and consequently the concentrated wear on such portions whereby the object is gradually reduced to better-rounded and more symmetric form. This specimen displays some minor flaking, apparently connected with the battering and regarded by the user as subordinate to the general wear. It was found at Punta Tormenta, concealed in the wall of a jacal, as if preserved for special use.

A related specimen, although somewhat unusual in shape, is shown in plate LIII. It is made of a particularly tough and hard greenstone and weighs 2 pounds 1 ounce (0.93 kilogram). Less than half of the surface has the appearance of a wave-worn pebble; the rest has either been battered beyond recognition from wave action or smoothed out from long-term use. This object clearly illustrates the choice of the most prominently projecting part of the hand-tool as the striking point, leading to concentrated wear on those parts, which gradually rounds and shapes the object into a more symmetrical form. This specimen shows some minor flaking, likely due to the battering and considered by the user to be less significant than the overall wear. It was discovered at Punta Tormenta, hidden in the wall of a jacal, as if kept for special use.

One of the best-known examples of a use-perfected hupf is illustrated in plate LIV. It is of coarse-grained but massive and homogeneous granite, similar to that forming Punta Blanca, Punta Granita, and, indeed, much of the eastern coast of Bahia Kunkaak. It weighs 1 pound 10 ounces (0.74 kilogram). In general form it is just such a pebble as is produced from this material by wave-wear, and might be duplicated along the shores in numbers. The artificial surfaces comprise (1) both ends, which are battered in the usual manner; (2) both lateral edges, of which one is slightly battered and worn, while the other is somewhat battered and also notched, evidently by a chance blow and the dislodgment of a flake; (3) both faces, which are flattened by grinding, while one of them (that shown in the plate) is slightly pitted, evidently by metal-working; so that the natural surface is restricted to small areas about the corners. The implement was found at the camp site on Punta Miguel, already noted (page 189), whence a group of five Seri were frightened by the approach of the 1895 expedition; it was covered with blood and shreds of turtle flesh, and is still saturated with grease. Moreover, it is quite confidently identified (not only by form and material, but especially by the fortuitous notch) as a hupf seen repeatedly at Costa Rica in 1894; it was the property of a matron of the Pelican clan (whose portrait appears in plate XXII), 244* who was observed to use it for various industrial purposes, and who refused to part with it for any consideration.

One of the best-known examples of a finely crafted hupf is shown in plate LIV. It’s made of coarse but solid and uniform granite, similar to what's found at Punta Blanca, Punta Granita, and much of the eastern coast of Bahia Kunkaak. It weighs 1 pound 10 ounces (0.74 kilogram). In general shape, it resembles a pebble created from this material through wave action, and many like it could be found along the shores. The artificial surfaces include (1) both ends, which are battered in the usual way; (2) both lateral edges, one of which is slightly battered and worn, while the other is somewhat battered and also notched, likely from a random impact that dislodged a flake; (3) both faces, which are flattened from grinding, with one face (the one shown in the plate) slightly pitted, probably from metal-working, so that the natural surface is limited to small areas around the corners. The tool was found at the campsite on Punta Miguel, mentioned earlier (page 189), where a group of five Seri were startled by the arrival of the 1895 expedition; it was covered in blood and bits of turtle flesh and is still soaked with grease. Additionally, it is confidently identified (not only by its shape and material but especially by the chance notch) as a hupf seen multiple times in Costa Rica in 1894; it belonged to a matron of the Pelican clan (whose portrait is in plate XXII), who was seen using it for various industrial tasks and refused to part with it for any price.

A still more beautiful example of Seri stone art is depicted in plate LV. It is of the same homogeneous and coarse-grained granite as the last specimen, and closely approaches it in dimensions; it is slightly longer and broader, but somewhat thinner, and weighs 1 pound 11 ounces (0.77 kilogram); and, except for the absence of the accidental notch, its artificial features are still more closely similar. The ends are slightly battered, as illustrated in the end view at the right of the plate; the edges are similarly worn, but to a less extent; while both sides have been symmetrically faceted by use in grinding, the facets being straight in the longitudinal direction but slightly curved in the transverse direction, in the shape of the Mexican mano. The specimen displays well-marked color distinctions between the artificially worn and the natural surfaces, the former being gray and the latter weathered to yellowish or pinkish-brown; these colors show that something like two-thirds of the surface is artificial and the intervening third natural; and the natural portion corresponds in every respect, not only in form but in condition of surface, with the granite cobbles of Seriland’s stormy shores. Unfortunately the color distinctions, with the limits of faceting and other artificial modifications, are obscure in the photomechanical reproduction; they are indicated more clearly in the outline drawing oversheet. The specimen is partially saturated with fat, and bears an ocher stain attesting use in the preparation of face-paint. It was found carefully wrapped in a parcel with the shell paint-cup illustrated in plate XXVII, a curlew mandible, two or three hawk feathers, and a tuft of pelican down (the whole evidently forming the fetish or medicine-bag of a shamanistic elderwoman), in an out-of-the-way nook in the wall of an abandoned jacal at Punta Narragansett.

A more beautiful example of Seri stone art is shown in plate LV. It’s made from the same coarse-grained granite as the previous piece and is similar in size; it’s slightly longer and wider but thinner, weighing 1 pound 11 ounces (0.77 kilogram). Other than lacking an accidental notch, its crafted features are even more similar. The ends are a bit worn, as shown in the end view on the right side of the plate; the edges are worn too, but to a lesser extent. Both sides have been symmetrically shaped through use in grinding, with the facets running straight along the length and slightly curved across the width, resembling a Mexican mano. The piece shows clear color differences between the worn areas and the natural surfaces, with the former being gray and the latter weathered to yellowish or pinkish-brown. This indicates that about two-thirds of the surface is artificially shaped and one-third is natural; the natural part matches perfectly in both shape and surface condition with the granite stones found along Seriland’s stormy shores. Unfortunately, the color differences, along with the boundaries of the facets and other modifications, are not clear in the photomechanical reproduction; they are more clearly represented in the outline drawing on the overlay. The piece is partially saturated with fat and has an ocher stain from use in face-paint preparation. It was discovered carefully wrapped in a parcel along with the shell paint-cup shown in plate XXVII, a curlew mandible, two or three hawk feathers, and a tuft of pelican down (all likely forming the fetish or medicine bag of a shamanistic elder woman) in a hidden spot in the wall of an abandoned jacal at Punta Narragansett.

A somewhat asymmetric though otherwise typical hupf is illustrated in natural colors in plate LVI. It is of andesite, and may have come originally either from the extensive volcanics of southern Sierra Seri or central Sierra Kunkaak; it weighs 1 pound 15 ounces (0.88 kilogram). The general form is that of a wave-worn cobble, and fully one-third of the surface retains the natural character save for slight smoothing through hand friction in use. The chief artificial modification is the faceting of both sides in nearly plain and approximately parallel faces, the maximum thickness of material removed from each side, estimated from the curvature of the adjacent natural surface, being perhaps three-sixteenths of an inch (5 millimeters); in addition, both ends are battered in the usual fashion, while the thinner and more projecting edge is battered still more extensively, in a way at once subserving convenient use and tending to increase the symmetry of form. One of the facets is quite smooth; the other (that on the right in the plate) is slightly pitted, as if by use in metal-working. The specimen is somewhat greasy—the normal condition of the hupf—and bears 245* conspicuous records of its latest uses; both faces (more especially the pitted one) are stained with sap from green vegetal substance (probably immature mesquite pods), while one face is brilliantly marked with ocher in such manner as to indicate that a lump of face-paint was partially pulverized by grinding on the slightly rough surface. It was found, together with the ahst illustrated in plate XXXVIII, in the rear of a recently occupied jacal midway between Punta Antigualla and Punta Ygnacio, cached beneath a thorny cholla cactus uprooted and dragged thither for the purpose. The trail and other signs indicated that the jacal had been occupied for a few days and up to within twenty-four hours by a family group of six or seven persons; that it was vacated suddenly at or about the time of arrival of the party of five whose trail was followed by the 1895 expedition from Punta Antigualla to Punta Miguel (where they were interrupted in the midst of a meal and frightened to Tiburon); and that the larger party fled toward the rocky fastnesses of southern Sierra Seri.

A somewhat uneven but otherwise standard hupf is shown in natural colors in plate LVI. It’s made of andesite, likely sourced from the extensive volcanic areas of southern Sierra Seri or central Sierra Kunkaak; it weighs 1 pound 15 ounces (0.88 kilogram). Its general shape resembles a wave-worn cobble, with about one-third of the surface maintaining its natural appearance, except for slight smoothing from hand use. The main artificial alteration is the faceting of both sides into nearly flat and roughly parallel surfaces, with the maximum thickness of material removed from each side estimated from the curvature of the nearby natural surface at about three-sixteenths of an inch (5 millimeters). Both ends are battered in the usual way, while the thinner and more pronounced edge is battered even more extensively, making it easier to use and enhancing the symmetry. One facet is quite smooth; the other (the one on the right in the plate) is slightly pitted, as if used for metal-working. The specimen is a bit greasy—the typical state of the hupf—and shows clear signs of its latest uses; both surfaces (especially the pitted side) are stained with sap from green plant material (likely immature mesquite pods), while one side is brightly marked with ocher, indicating that a lump of face-paint was partially ground on the slightly rough surface. It was found alongside the ahst shown in plate XXXVIII, at the back of a recently occupied jacal located midway between Punta Antigualla and Punta Ygnacio, hidden beneath a thorny cholla cactus that had been uprooted and dragged there for that purpose. The trail and other clues suggested that the jacal had been occupied for a few days, up to twenty-four hours before, by a family group of six or seven individuals; that it had been abruptly vacated around the time a party of five, whose trail was tracked by the 1895 expedition from Punta Antigualla to Punta Miguel (where they were interrupted while eating and scared off to Tiburon), arrived; and that this larger group fled toward the rocky refuges of southern Sierra Seri.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLV

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY USED AS HAMMER AND ANVIL

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY USED AS A HAMMER AND ANVIL


Of the foregoing hupfs several are aberrant, and serve merely to illustrate the prevailing directions of departure from the optimum form and size of implements. Six of the specimens may be deemed typical; they are as follows:

Of the above-mentioned hupfs, several are unusual and only serve to show the common ways that differ from the ideal shape and size of tools. Six of the examples can be considered typical; they are as follows:

Plate No. Locality Material Weight Condition
Lb. Ozs.
XLIII Costa Rica Quartzite 1 14 (0.85 kg.) Nearly natural.
XLIV Campo Navidad Tuff 1 1 (.48 kg.) Four-fifths natural.
XLVI Pozo Escalante Vesicular lava. 1 13 (.82 kg.) Nearly natural.
LIV Punta Miguel Granite 1 10 (.74 kg.) One-fifth natural.
LV Punta Narragansett do 1 11 (.77 kg.) One-fourth natural.
LVI South point Sierra Seri. Andesite 1 15 (.88 kg.) One-third natural.

From these specimens a type of Seri hand implement may easily be formulated: it is a wave-worn pebble or cobble of (1) granite, quartzite, or other tough and hard rock, (2) tuff, or other light and pulverulent rock, or (3) vesicular lava; it is of flattened ovoid form, or of biscuit shape; it weighs a trifle under 2 pounds (about 0.85 kilogram); originally the form and surface are wholly natural, but through the chance of use it is modified (a) by a battering of the ends and more projecting edges, and (b) by grinding and consequent truncation of the sides; though initially a natural pebble, chosen nearly at random from the beach, it eventually becomes personal property, acquires fetishistic import, and is buried with the owner at her death.

From these examples, it's easy to identify a type of Seri hand tool: it's a wave-worn pebble or cobble made of (1) granite, quartzite, or other tough, hard rock, (2) tuff, or other light, powdery rock, or (3) vesicular lava; it has a flattened oval shape or resembles a biscuit; it weighs just under 2 pounds (about 0.85 kilogram); its original form and surface are completely natural, but through use, it gets changed (a) by battering of the ends and more protruding edges, and (b) by grinding and the resulting truncation of the sides; although it starts as a natural pebble, picked almost randomly from the beach, it eventually becomes personal property, takes on a fetishistic significance, and is buried with its owner when she dies.

The ahsts and the heavier cobbles used alternatively as ahsts and hupfs are too fortuitous for reduction to type; while the protean pebbles 246* utilized in emergency, and commonly discarded after a single use, are too numerous and too various for convenient or useful grouping.

The ahsts and the heavier cobbles used alternately as ahsts and hupfs are too random to be categorized; while the diverse pebbles used in emergencies and usually thrown away after one use are too many and too varied for easy or practical grouping. 246*


There is a distinctive type of Seri stone artifacts represented by a single category of objects, viz., chipped arrowpoints. Several of the literary descriptions of the folk—particularly those based on secondhand information, and far-traveled rumor—credit the Seri with habitual use of stone-tipped arrows,297 and it is the current fashion among both Mexican and Indian residents of Sonora to ascribe to the Seri any shapely arrowpoint picked up from plain or valley; yet the observations among the tribesmen and in their haunts disclose but slight basis for classing the Seri with the aboriginal arrow-makers of America.

There is a unique type of Seri stone artifacts represented by one category of items, specifically, chipped arrowheads. Many of the written accounts about the people—especially those based on hearsay and widely circulated rumors—attribute the regular use of stone-tipped arrows to the Seri, and it's common these days for both Mexican and Indigenous residents of Sonora to associate any well-crafted arrowhead found in the plains or valleys with the Seri. However, observations from the tribespeople and their environments reveal very little evidence to support classifying the Seri as traditional arrow-makers of America.

Fig. 37—Seri arrowpoints.

Fig. 37—Seri arrowheads.

Among the 60 Seri (including 17 or 18 warriors) at Costa Rica in 1894, three bows and four quivers of arrows were observed, besides a number of stray arrows, chiefly in the hands of striplings. The arrows seen numbered some 60 or 70, including perhaps 20 “poisoned” specimens; nearly half of them were tipped with hoop-iron, as illustrated in plate XXX, while about as many more were fitted only with the customary foreshafts (usually sharpened and hardened by charring), and the small remainder had evidently lost iron tips in use; there was not a single stone-tipped arrow in the rancheria. Moreover, when the usually incisive and confident Mashém was asked for the Seri term for stone arrowpoint he was taken aback, and was unable to answer until after lengthy conference with other members of the tribe—his manner and that of his mates clearly indicating ignorance of such a term rather than the desire to conceal information so frequently manifested in connection with esoteric matters; and the term finally obtained (ahst-ahk, connoting stone and arrow) is the same as that used to denote the arrowpoint of hoop-iron. The most reasonable inference from the various facts is that whatsoever might have been the customs of their ancestors, the modern Seri are not accustomed to stone arrow-making.

Among the 60 Seri people (including 17 or 18 warriors) in Costa Rica in 1894, three bows and four quivers of arrows were noted, along with several stray arrows, mostly held by young boys. The total number of arrows was around 60 or 70, which included about 20 "poisoned" ones; nearly half of them had tips made of hoop-iron, as shown in plate XXX. About the same amount were fitted only with standard foreshafts (usually sharpened and hardened by charring), and a small number had clearly lost their iron tips during use; there wasn't a single stone-tipped arrow in the community. Furthermore, when the typically sharp and self-assured Mashém was asked for the Seri word for stone arrowhead, he was caught off guard and couldn’t respond until after a long discussion with other tribe members—his attitude and that of his peers clearly showed a lack of knowledge about such a term, rather than an intention to hide information, which is often seen with secretive topics. The term they finally came up with (ahst-ahk, meaning stone and arrow) is the same one used for the hoop-iron arrowheads. The most reasonable conclusion drawn from these facts is that, regardless of their ancestors' practices, modern Seri do not make arrows with stone tips.

The 1895 expedition was slightly more successful in the search for Seri arrows. About midway between the abandoned Rancho Libertad and Barranca Salina, an ancient Seri site was found to yield hundreds of typical potsherds, half a dozen shells such as those used for utensils, the fragments of a hupf evidently shattered by use as a fire-stone, and the small rudely chipped arrowpoint shown in figure 37a; and among the numerous relics found on a knoll overlooking Pozo Escalante (including two jacal frames, two or three graves, an ahst, several shells 247* and discarded hupfs, a broken fictile figurine, etc.), was the still ruder arrowpoint represented in figure 37b (both figures are natural size). The specimens are nearly identical in material—a jet-black slaty rock with a few lighter flecks interspersed, weathering gray on long exposure (as is shown by the partly natural surface of the larger point); similar rock abounds in several easterly spurs of Sierra Seri. The smaller specimen was evidently finished and used; its features indicate fairly skilful chipping, though its general form is crude—in addition to the asymmetric shouldering, the entire point is curved laterally in such manner as to interfere with accurate archery. The larger specimen is still more strongly curved laterally, and the chipping is childishly crude; while the rough surface, clumsy tang, and unfinished air indicate that it was never used even to the extent of shafting. It is possible that the specimens may have been imported by aliens, but the probabilities are strong that they were manufactured by the Seri. No other arrowpoints and no chips or spalls suggesting stone arrow-making were found in all Seriland, though the entire party of twelve were on constant lookout for them for a month. The natural inference from these facts is that the ancestral Seri, like their descendants, were not habitual stone arrow-makers.

The 1895 expedition had a bit more success in the search for Seri arrows. About halfway between the abandoned Rancho Libertad and Barranca Salina, an old Seri site was discovered that yielded hundreds of typical potsherds, several shells like those used for utensils, fragments of a hupf clearly broken from being used as a fire-stone, and a small, roughly chipped arrowpoint shown in figure 37a. Among the many relics found on a knoll overlooking Pozo Escalante (including two jacal frames, two or three graves, an ahst, several shells, and discarded hupfs, a broken figurine, etc.), was the even rougher arrowpoint represented in figure 37b (both figures are natural size). The specimens are nearly identical in material—a jet-black slaty rock with a few lighter flecks scattered throughout, weathering gray from long exposure (as shown by the partly natural surface of the larger point); similar rock is found abundantly in several easterly spurs of Sierra Seri. The smaller specimen appears to have been finished and used; its features show fairly skilled chipping, though its overall shape is crude—besides the asymmetric shoulder, the entire point is curved sideways in a way that would affect accurate archery. The larger specimen has an even more pronounced lateral curve, and the chipping is very rough; the uneven surface, awkward tang, and unfinished look suggest that it was never used even to the point of being attached to a shaft. It’s possible the specimens were brought in by outsiders, but it’s more likely that they were made by the Seri. No other arrowpoints and no chips or fragments indicating stone arrow-making were found anywhere in Seriland, even though the entire group of twelve was constantly searching for them for a month. The natural conclusion from these facts is that the ancestral Seri, like their descendants, were not regular stone arrow-makers.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVI

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY USED AS GRINDER

NATURAL PEBBLE LIGHTLY USED AS A GRINDER

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY USED AS DOMESTIC IMPLEMENT

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY USED AS A HOUSEHOLD ITEM


There is a final category of Seri artifacts which would be classed as distinctive by Caucasians on the basis of material, though they are combined with the stone artifacts by the tribesmen; it comprises arrowpoints of hoop-iron or other metal, harpoon-points of nails, spikes, or wire, awls of like materials, and other metallic adjuncts to ordinary implements. The use of iron is of course post-Columbian, and its ordinary sources are wreckage and stealage. The date of introduction is unknown, and probably goes back to the days of Cortés and Mendoza; certainly the value of metal was so well understood in 1709 that when Padre Salvatierra’s bilander was beached in Seriland the tribesmen at once began to break her up for the nails (ante, page 67); yet the metal is wrought cold and only with hupf and ahst like the local materials, and is habitually regarded and designated as a stone. By reason of the primitive methods of working, the metals are of course available only when in small pieces or slender shapes. There is a tradition among the vaqueros of the frontier that a quantity of hoop-iron designed for use in making casks was carried away from a rancheria in the vicinity of Bacuachito during a raid in the seventies, and that this stock has ever since served to supply the Seri with material for their arrowpoints; but it is probable that the chief supply is derived from the flotsam swept into the natural drift trap of Bahia Kunkaak by prevailing winds and tidal currents, and cast up on the long sandspit of Punta Tormenta after every storm. A surprising quantity and variety of wreckage was found on this point, and thence down the coast to Punta Narragansett, by the 1895 expedition: staves and heads of casks broken up after beaching, a telegraph pole crossbar which had evidently 248* brought in a cargo of large wire, and a piece of door-frame with heavy strap-iron hinges attached with screws, were among the troves of the tribesmen within a few weeks; and it was noted that while even the hinge screws and the tacks attaching tags to the cask-heads had been extracted by breaking up the wood, the roughly forged hinges of 2 by ⅜-inch wrought iron had been abandoned after a tentative battering with cobbles, and lay among the refuse stones about the jacales.

There is a final category of Seri artifacts that would be recognized as distinctive by Caucasians based on material, even though the tribesmen combine them with stone artifacts. This category includes arrowheads made from hoop iron or other metals, harpoon tips made from nails, spikes, or wire, awls made from similar materials, and other metallic additions to ordinary tools. The use of iron is clearly post-Columbian, with its typical sources being wrecks and salvaged materials. The exact date of its introduction is unknown but likely dates back to the times of Cortés and Mendoza. Certainly, the value of metal was well understood by 1709, as when Padre Salvatierra’s ship was beached in Seriland, the tribesmen immediately began to dismantle it for the nails (see page 67). However, the metal is shaped cold and similarly to the local materials, and is usually regarded and called stone. Due to the primitive methods used to work with it, metals are generally only available in small pieces or narrow shapes. There’s a tradition among the frontier vaqueros that a supply of hoop iron intended for making barrels was taken from a rancheria near Bacuachito during a raid in the 1870s, and that this iron has continuously provided the Seri with material for their arrowheads. However, it’s more likely that the main supply comes from debris washed into the natural drift trap of Bahia Kunkaak by prevailing winds and tidal currents, which is then deposited on the long sandspit of Punta Tormenta after storms. A surprising amount and variety of wreckage were found on this point and further down the coast to Punta Narragansett by the 1895 expedition: broken staves and heads of casks, a crossbar from a telegraph pole that had clearly brought in large wire, and a piece of door frame with heavy strap-iron hinges attached with screws were among the treasures collected by the tribesmen within a few weeks. It was noted that even the screws from the hinges and the tacks holding tags to the cask heads were removed by breaking apart the wood, while the roughly forged hinges of 2 by ⅜-inch wrought iron were left untouched after an initial attempt to break them with stones and were found among the discarded rocks near the jacales.


A rough census of the stone implements of Seriland is not without interest, even though it be no more than an approximation. Some 20 or 25 habitable and recently inhabited jacales were visited, with about twice as many more in various stages of ruin, fully two-thirds of these being on the island; and at least an equal number of camps or other houseless sites were noted. About these 150 jacales and sites there were, say, 50 ahsts, ranging from nearly natural bowlders to the comparatively well-wrought specimen illustrated in plate XXXIX, and an equal number of cobbles used interchangeably as ahsts and hupfs; there were also 200 or 300 pebbles bearing traces of use as hupfs, of which about a third were worn so decidedly as to attest repeated if not regular use; while no flaked or spalled implements were observed save the two doubtful examples illustrated in plates XLVII and L, and only two chipped arrowpoints. It may be assumed that the sites visited and the artifacts observed comprise from a tenth to a fifth of those of all Seriland, in addition to, say, 75 finished hupfs habitually carried by Seri matrons in their wanderings; and it may be assumed also that 50 or 100 metallic harpoon-points and several hundred hoop-iron arrowpoints are habitually carried by the warriors and their spouses.

A rough count of the stone tools in Seriland is interesting, even if it’s just an estimate. About 20 to 25 inhabited and recently occupied jacales were visited, with around twice that number in various states of disrepair, and two-thirds of these were on the island. We also noted at least as many camps or other unoccupied sites. Around these 150 jacales and sites, there were about 50 ahsts, ranging from nearly natural boulders to the more finely crafted one shown in plate XXXIX, and an equal number of cobbles used interchangeably as ahsts and hupfs. Additionally, there were about 200 to 300 pebbles showing signs of use as hupfs, with roughly a third of them worn enough to indicate they had been used repeatedly, if not regularly. No flaked or spalled tools were found, except for two questionable examples shown in plates XLVII and L, along with just two chipped arrowheads. It can be estimated that the sites visited and the artifacts observed make up about 10% to 20% of all those in Seriland, in addition to approximately 75 finished hupfs typically carried by Seri women in their travels. It’s also likely that 50 to 100 metal harpoon points and several hundred hoop-iron arrowheads are regularly carried by the warriors and their partners.

The most impressive fact brought out by this census is the practical absence of stone artifacts wrought by flaking or chipping in accordance with preconceived design; excepting the exceedingly rare arrowpoints there are none of these. And the assemblage of wrought stones demonstrates not merely that the Seri are practically without flaked or chipped implements, but that they eschew and discard stones edged by fracture whether naturally or through accident of use.

The most striking fact revealed by this census is the nearly complete lack of stone tools made by flaking or chipping with a specific design in mind; apart from the very rare arrowheads, there are none of these. Additionally, the collection of worked stones shows not only that the Seri have almost no flaked or chipped tools, but also that they avoid and throw away stones that are jagged from breaks, whether those breaks are natural or the result of use.


Summarily, the Seri artifacts of inorganic material fall into three groups, viz.: (I) The large and characteristic one comprising regularly-used hupfs and ahsts, with their little-used and discarded representatives; (II) the small and aberrant group represented by chipped arrowpoints, and (III) the considerable group comprising the cold-wrought metal points for arrows and harpoons and awls—though it is to be remembered that the Seri themselves combine the second and third of these groups.

Summarized, the Seri artifacts made of inorganic materials are categorized into three groups: (I) the large and distinctive group consisting of commonly used hupfs and ahsts, along with their rarely used and discarded versions; (II) the small and unusual group represented by chipped arrowheads; and (III) the significant group made up of cold-wrought metal points for arrows, harpoons, and awls—although it’s important to note that the Seri themselves combine the second and third groups.

I. On reviewing the artifacts of the larger group it becomes clear (1) that they immediately reflect environment, in that they are characteristic natural objects of the territory; (2) that they come into use as implements through chance demands met by hasty selection from the 249* abundant material; (3) that the great majority of the objects so employed are discarded after a use or two; (4) that when the object proves especially serviceable, and other conditions favor, it is retained to meet later needs; (5) that the retained objects are gradually modified in form and surface by repeated use; (6) that if the modification diminishes the serviceability of the object in the notion of the user (e. g., by such fracture as to produce sharp edges), it is discarded; (7) that if the modification enhances the serviceability of the specimen in the mind of the user it is the more sedulously preserved; and (8) that through the instinctive desire for perservation, coupled with the thaumaturgic cast of primitive thinking, the object acquires at once an artificialized form and a fetishistic as well as a utilitarian function. The significant feature of the development is the total absence of foresight or design, save in so far as the concepts are fiducial rather than technical or directly industrial.

I. When examining the artifacts from the larger group, it becomes clear (1) that they directly reflect the environment, as they are typical natural objects from the area; (2) that they are used as tools based on immediate needs met by quick selection from the abundant resources; (3) that most of these items are discarded after being used once or twice; (4) that if an item proves particularly useful and conditions allow, it is kept for future needs; (5) that the retained items gradually change in shape and surface from repeated use; (6) that if these changes make the item less useful in the user's opinion (for example, causing sharp edges from breaking), it is thrown away; (7) that if the changes make the item more useful in the user's view, it is kept even more carefully; and (8) that through the natural desire to preserve, combined with the magical thinking typical of primitive cultures, the item takes on both a transformed appearance and becomes both a fetish and a practical tool. The key aspect of this development is the complete lack of foresight or planning, except to the extent that the ideas are based on trust rather than technical or directly industrial concepts.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLVIII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY WORN BY USE

NATURAL PEBBLE SLIGHTLY WORN BY USE

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIX

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XLIX

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE CONSIDERABLY WORN IN USE AS GRINDER

NATURAL PEBBLE SIGNIFICANTLY WORN FROM USE AS A GRINDER

II. On reviewing the almost insignificantly small group of chipped stone artifacts, it seems clear that while the material is local the design is so incongruous with custom and characteristic thought as to raise the presumption that stone-chipping is an alien and imperfectly assimilated craft. The conspicuous and significant feature of the chipped stone artifact is the shapement in accordance with preconceived design.

II. When looking at the very small collection of chipped stone artifacts, it’s clear that while the material is local, the design feels so out of place with typical customs and characteristics that it suggests stone-chipping is a foreign craft that hasn’t been fully integrated. The most noticeable and important aspect of the chipped stone artifact is its shape, which aligns with a planned design.

III. On reviewing the arbitrarily separated group of metallic artifacts it is found clear (1) that the material is foreign; (2) that it is avidly sought and sedulously saved and utilized; (3) that it is wrought only by the crude methods used for fashioning the most primitive of implements and tools; and (4) that it is used chiefly as a substitute for organic substances employed in symbolic imitation of the natural organs and functions of animals. The significant features of the use of iron artifacts are (a) the absence of either alien or specialized designs, and (b) the mimicry of bestial characters as conceived in primitive philosophy.

III. On reviewing the randomly separated collection of metal artifacts, it becomes clear that (1) the material is foreign; (2) it is eagerly sought after, carefully preserved, and used; (3) it is created only through the basic methods employed to make the most primitive tools and implements; and (4) it is mainly used as a replacement for organic materials, symbolically imitating the natural organs and functions of animals. The important features of the use of iron artifacts are (a) the lack of either foreign or specialized designs, and (b) the imitation of animal characteristics as understood in primitive thought.

Classed by material and motive jointly, the three groups are diverse in important respects: The first is local in material, local in motive; the second is local in material, foreign in design; the third is foreign in material, local in motive.

Classified by both material and purpose, the three groups differ in significant ways: The first is local in both material and motive; the second is local in material but has a foreign design; the third is foreign in material but local in motive.


On recapitulating the several phases of Seri handicraft, the devices are found to fall into genetic classes of such sort as to illumine certain notable stages of primitive technic.

On reviewing the different stages of Seri handicraft, the tools are classified into categories that highlight some significant milestones in early techniques.

The initial class comprises teeth, beaks and mandibles, claws, hoofs, and horns, used in imitation or symbolic mimicry of either actual or imputed function of animals, chiefly those to which the organs pertain, together with vegetal spines and stalks or splints, used similarly under the zootheistic imputation of animal powers to plants; also carapaces and pelts, used as shields combining actual and symbolic protective functions. While this class of devices is well displayed by the Seri, it is by no means peculiar to them; clear vestiges of the devices have 250* been noted among many Amerind tribes. Now the essential basis of the industrial motive has been recognized by all profounder students in zootheism, animism, or hylozoism—indeed, the industrial stage is but the reflex and expression of the zootheistic or hylozoic plane in the development of philosophy; while both the devices and the cultural stage which they represent have already been outlined by the late Frank Hamilton Cushing, on the basis of surviving vestiges and prehistoric relics, and characterized as “prelithic”.298 Cushing’s designation for the initial stage of technic has the merit of euphony, and of suggesting the serial place of the stage in industrial development; but since it denotes a most important class of artifacts only by exclusion and negation it would seem desirable to supplement it by a positive term. The class of devices (considered in both material and functional aspects) and the cultural stage in general might appropriately be styled hylozoic, though it would seem preferable to emphasize the actual objective basis of the class and stage by a specific designation—and for this purpose the term zoomimetic (from ζω̢̃ον, τὁ and μιμητικὁς), or its simplified equivalent, zoomimic, would seem acceptable.

The first category includes teeth, beaks and jaws, claws, hooves, and horns, used to imitate or symbolically represent either the actual or assumed functions of animals, mainly those associated with those organs, along with plant spines and stalks or splints, used similarly under the belief that plants have animal powers; it also includes shells and furs, used as shields that combine real and symbolic protective roles. While this category of items is well represented by the Seri, it is not unique to them; clear remnants of these items have been observed among many Native American tribes. The foundational element of this industrial motivation has been recognized by all serious scholars in zootheism, animism, or hylozoism— in fact, the industrial stage is just a reflection and expression of the zootheistic or hylozoic level in the evolution of philosophy; both the items and the cultural stage they represent have already been outlined by the late Frank Hamilton Cushing, based on existing remnants and prehistoric artifacts, and described as “prelithic.” Cushing’s term for the initial stage of technology has the advantage of being pleasant to say and suggesting the sequential place of the stage in industrial progress; however, since it defines a crucial class of artifacts by exclusion and negation, it seems beneficial to supplement it with a positive term. The category of items (considered in both material and functional aspects) and the cultural stage overall could fittingly be called hylozoic, although it would be better to highlight the actual objective basis of the category and stage with a specific term—and for that, the term zoomimetic (from ζω̢̃ον, τὁ and μιμητικὁς), or its simpler equivalent, zoomimic, would be appropriate.

A transitional series of devices is represented by awls of wood or iron fashioned in imitation of mandibles or claws, by wooden foreshafts shaped in symbolic mimicry of teeth, and by other vicarious replacements 251* of material in devices of zoomimic motive; but this series may be regarded as constituting a subclass, or as a connecting link between classes rather than a major class of devices. Yet the subclass is of great significance as a mile-mark of progress in nature-conquest, and as the germ of that industrial revolution consummated as tribesmen grew into reliance on their own acumen and strength and skill rather than on the capricious favor of beast-gods.

A transitional series of tools includes wooden or iron awls designed to look like mandibles or claws, wooden foreshafts shaped to symbolically resemble teeth, and other indirect substitutes for materials in devices that mimic animal movement. This series can be viewed as a subclass or as a bridge between categories rather than a major category of tools. However, this subclass is very important as a milestone in overcoming nature and as the starting point of the industrial revolution, as tribespeople began to depend more on their own intelligence, strength, and skills instead of the unpredictable favor of animal deities. 251*

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. L

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. L

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE CONSIDERABLY WORN AS CUTTER AND GRINDER

NATURAL PEBBLE SIGNIFICANTLY WORN AS A CUTTER AND GRINDER

The next major class of devices comprises shells and cobbles and bowlders picked up at random to meet emergency needs, wielded in ways determined by emergency adjustment of means to ends, and sometimes retained and reused under the budding instinct of fitness, though never shaped by design. The devices of this class are best exemplified by the tool-shells and by the hupfs and ahsts of the Seri matrons, partly because of the practical absence of higher artifacts from their territory; yet the class is by no means confined to this notably primitive, folk: the greater part of the implements used by the California Indians and a large part of those used by every other known Amerind tribe in aboriginal condition consist of shore cobbles, river pebbles, talus bowlders, or other natural stones of form and size convenient for emergency use; and (despite the fact that such objects are often ignored by observers, for the prosaic reason that they represent no familiar or trenchant class), there is no lack of evidence that they are or have been in habitual use among all primitive peoples. Although zootheistic or sortilegic motives doubtless play an undetermined rôle in the selection of the objects, and although wonted zoomimic movements doubtless affect the initial processes, the essential distinction from zoomimic artifacts resides in the selection and use of natural objects through a mechanical chance tending to inspire volitional exercise rather than through a fiducial rule tending to paralyze volitional effort; while the class is no less trenchantly separable from those of higher grade by the absence of preconceived models or technical designs. The class of devices and the culture-stage which they represent have already been outlined and defined as protolithic.299

The next major category of tools consists of shells, stones, and boulders randomly gathered to address urgent needs, used in ways shaped by immediate adjustments between goals and methods, and sometimes kept and reused due to a growing sense of practicality, although never crafted with intention. The best examples of this category are the tool-shells and the hupfs and ahsts of the Seri women, partly because there are very few advanced artifacts in their area; however, this category isn't limited to this notably primitive group: most tools used by California Indians and many others from various Indigenous tribes also come from natural stones such as shore cobbles, river pebbles, and talus boulders that are conveniently sized and shaped for urgent tasks. Despite being often overlooked by observers for the simple reason that they don’t fit into a well-known or distinct category, there's ample evidence that these items are or have been regularly used by all primitive peoples. While animistic or magical beliefs likely influence which objects are chosen, and while familiar animal-like movements probably affect initial use, the key difference from animal-like artifacts is how natural objects are selected and used through an element of chance that encourages active use rather than through a guiding principle that stifles effort; this category is also clearly distinguishable from more advanced tools by the lack of predetermined models or technical designs. The category of tools and the cultural level they represent have already been described and defined as protolithic.299

A transitional series of devices allied to the Seri hupf on the one hand and to the chipped artifact on the other hand is frequently found among the aborigines of California and other native tribes; it is typified by a cobble or other natural piece of stone cleft (first by accident of use and later by design) in such wise as to afford an edged tool. This subclass of artifacts is religiously eschewed by the Seri; but it is of much interest as an illustration of the way in which artificialization proceeds, and of the exceeding slowness of primitive progress.

A transitional series of tools associated with the Seri hupf on one side and chipped artifacts on the other is commonly found among the Native Americans of California and other tribes. This is characterized by a cobble or another natural stone that has been split (initially by accidental use and later by intent) to create an edged tool. This type of artifact is strictly avoided by the Seri, but it's quite interesting as an example of how artificial tools are developed and the very slow pace of primitive advancement.

The third great class of devices defined by technologic development comprises stones chipped, flaked, battered, ground, or otherwise wrought in accordance with preconceived designs, together with cold-forged native metal, horn, bone, wood, and other substances wrought 252* in accordance with preconceived models and direct motives. Among the Seri this class of devices is represented only by the rare arrowpoints of chipped stone, which seem to be accultural and largely fetishistic; but the class is abundantly represented by the artifacts of most of the Amerind tribes. The class and the cultural stage have already been outlined under the term technolithic.300

The third major category of devices defined by technological advancement includes stones that are chipped, flaked, battered, ground, or crafted based on specific designs, as well as cold-forged native metal, horn, bone, wood, and other materials shaped according to planned models and direct purposes. Among the Seri, this category is represented solely by the rare arrow points made of chipped stone, which appear to be culturally neutral and mainly fetishistic; however, this category is well-represented by the artifacts of most Amerind tribes. This category and its cultural level have already been detailed under the term technolithic.300

A transitional series of devices intervenes between stone artifacts and artifacts of smelted metal; it is represented by malleable native metals (chiefly copper, silver, meteoric iron, and gold), originally wrought cold, after the manner of stone, though heating under the hammer in such wise as to prepare the way for forging, fusing, and founding. These devices and the processes with which they are correlated are not represented among the Seri; indeed, the crude use of iron by the tribe would seem to lie on a lower plane in industrial development than even the arrowpoint-chipping, in that the artifacts, though of foreign material, are wrought largely in accordance with zoomimic motives.

A transitional series of tools exists between stone tools and tools made of smelted metal; it includes malleable native metals (mainly copper, silver, meteoric iron, and gold), which were originally shaped cold, similar to stone, but were heated under the hammer to allow for forging, fusing, and casting. These tools and the processes associated with them are not found among the Seri; in fact, the basic use of iron by the tribe seems to represent a lower level of industrial development than even arrowhead chipping, as the artifacts, despite being made from foreign materials, are mostly crafted according to animal-inspired designs.

The fourth major class of devices, comprising the multifarious artifacts of smelted and alloyed metal, was barely represented in aboriginal America; only a few of the more advanced tribes had attained the threshold of metallurgy, and even among these the crude metal working remained hieratic or esthetic, and did not displace the prevalent stone craft.

The fourth major category of devices, made up of various tools created from smelted and alloyed metal, was hardly present in native America. Only a handful of the more advanced tribes had reached a basic level of metallurgy, and even among these, the basic metalworking was either ceremonial or decorative and did not replace the dominant stoneworking techniques.


Briefly, the several stages in the development of tools and implements may be seriated as follows:

Briefly, the different stages in the development of tools and implements can be organized as follows:

Stages Typical materials Typical products Essential ideas
1. Zoomimic Bestial organs Awls, spears, harpoons, arrows. Zootheistic faith.
A. Transitional Symbolized organs Piercing and tearing implements. Faith + craft.
2. Protolithic Natural stones Hammers and grinders— hupfs and ahsts. Mechanical chance.
B. Transitional Cleft stones Grinders and cutters Chance + craft.253*
3. Technolithic Artificialized stones. Chipped, battered, and polished implements. Designed shapement by molar action.
C. Transitional Malleable native metals. Copper celts, gold ornaments, etc. Designed shapement by molar action + chance heating.
4. Metal Smelted ores Steel tools, etc. Shapement by molar and molecular action.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LI

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

The Heliotype Printing Co., Boston

NATURAL PEBBLE CONSIDERABLY USED AS HAMMER, GRINDER, AND ANVIL (TOP AND EDGE)

NATURAL PEBBLE COMMONLY USED AS A HAMMER, GRINDER, AND ANVIL (TOP AND EDGE)

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

NATURAL PEBBLE CONSIDERABLY USED AS HAMMER, GRINDER, AND ANVIL (BOTTOM AND EDGE)

NATURAL PEBBLE FREQUENTLY USED AS A HAMMER, GRINDER, AND ANVIL (BOTTOM AND EDGE)

It is to be realized that the successive stages represent characteristic phases of normal and continuous growth, and hence that their relations are intimate and complex. The fundamental factor of the growth is intellectual advancement, and hence in actual life each stage is at once the germ and the foundation for the next higher; each stage is characterized by a type or a cognate series of types, yet each commonly contains a few forms prophetic of the next stage and many forms vestigial of the earlier stages; so that the stages are to be likened unto successive generations of organisms, or (still more appropriately) to the successive phases of ovum, larva, pupa, and imago in the ontogeny of the insect rather than to the arbitrary classes of pigeonhole arrangements. The complex relations conceived to exist among the stages can be indicated more clearly by diagraphic representation than by typographic arrangement, and such a representation is introduced as figure 38. The successive curves in the diagram express the rhythmic character of progress and the cumulative value of its interrelated factors, as well as the dominance of successive types until gradually sapped and absorbed (though not immediately or completely annihilated) by higher types reflecting a strengthened mentality.

It’s important to understand that the different stages represent typical phases of normal and continuous growth, so their connections are close and complicated. The main driver of this growth is intellectual development, which means that in real life, each stage serves as both the seed and the foundation for the next higher stage. Each stage is defined by a specific type or a related series of types, but it usually also includes some forms that hint at the next stage and many forms that are remnants of earlier stages. Therefore, the stages can be compared to successive generations of organisms, or even more aptly, to the stages of ovum, larva, pupa, and imago in the development of an insect, rather than to arbitrary categories of classification. The complex relationships among the stages can be represented more effectively through a diagram than through text, and this representation is shown as figure 38. The successive curves in the diagram illustrate the rhythmic nature of progress and the combined importance of its interconnected factors, as well as how each type dominates until it is gradually weakened and absorbed (though not instantly or completely destroyed) by higher types that reflect a stronger mentality.

Fig. 38—Diagrammatic outline of industrial development.

Fig. 38—Diagrammatic outline of industrial development.


The place of the normal pacific industries of the Seri in this genetic classification of human technic is definite. The Seri craft combines the features of the zoomimic and protolithic stages more completely than that of any other known folk, and in such wise as to reveal the relations 254* between these stages and that next higher in the series with unparalleled clearness; their craft also displays an aberrant (and hence presumptively accultural) feature pertaining to the technolithic stage; and in so far as their craftsmen use the material typical of the age of metal they degrade it to the transitional substage between dominant zoomimicry and designless stone-using.

The role of the normal peaceful industries of the Seri in this classification of human technology is clear. The Seri's crafts blend the elements of the animalistic and primitive stages more thoroughly than those of any other known group, clearly showing the connections between these stages and the next one higher in the sequence. Their crafts also show an unusual (and likely culturally independent) characteristic related to the technological stage. Furthermore, since their artisans use materials typical of the metal age, they reduce it to a transitional level between dominant animalistic methods and unstructured stone usage. 254*

Viewed in the general light of their pacific industries, the Seri are, accordingly, among the most primitive of known tribes; their technic is in harmony with their esthetic, and also with their somatic and tribal characteristics, in attesting a lowly plane of development; while their industries, like their other demotic features, are essentially autochthonous.

Viewed in the broader context of their peaceful practices, the Seri are among the most primitive tribes known. Their techniques align with their aesthetic, as well as their physical and tribal traits, indicating a low level of development. Additionally, their industries, like their other cultural aspects, are fundamentally indigenous.

WARFARE

Something is known of Seri warfare through the history of the centuries since 1540, and especially through the bloody episodes of the Encinas régime and the occasional outbreaks of the last decade or two. The available data clearly indicate that the warfare of the tribe complements their pacific industries in every essential respect.

Something is known about Seri warfare through the history of the centuries since 1540, especially through the bloody events of the Encinas regime and the occasional outbreaks of the last decade or two. The available data clearly show that the tribe's warfare complements their peaceful industries in every essential way.

As befits their primitive character, warfare has played an important role in the history of the folk, forming, indeed, one of the chief factors in determining the course of tribal development. There is no means of estimating the losses suffered and occasioned in warfare with the neighboring tribes during either prehistoric or historic times; but the indications are that they were much greater than the losses connected with Caucasian contact. Neither is it practicable to estimate reliably the fatalities attending the interminable conflicts with the Spanish invaders and their descendants, though it is safe to say that the Seri losses in strife against Spaniards and Mexicans aggregate many hundred, and that the correlative loss on the part of their enemies reaches several score, if not some hundred, lives. Few if any other aboriginal tribes of America have had so sanguinary a history as the Seri, and none other has at once so long and so bloody a record.

As fits their primitive nature, warfare has been a significant part of the history of the people, in fact, it has been one of the main factors in shaping tribal development. It's impossible to accurately measure the losses incurred from conflicts with neighboring tribes during both prehistoric and historic times; however, it appears that these losses were much greater than those related to encounters with Caucasians. It's also not feasible to reliably estimate the deaths resulting from the endless battles with the Spanish invaders and their descendants, though it's safe to say that the losses experienced by the Seri in conflicts against Spaniards and Mexicans amount to several hundred, while the losses on the part of their enemies reach several dozen, if not close to a hundred lives. Few, if any, other Indigenous tribes in America have experienced such a bloody history as the Seri, and none have had a record that is both so lengthy and so violent.

According to the consistent accounts of several survivors of conflict with the Seri, their chief weapons are arrows, stones, and clubs—though several survivors manifest greater fear of the throttling hands and rending teeth of the savage warriors than of all their artificial weapons combined. A striking feature of the recitals, indeed, is the rarity of reference to weapons; the ambushes or surrounds or chance meetings, with their disastrous or happy consequences, are commonly described with considerable detail; the carbines or rifles, the machetes and knives, or the deftly thrown riatas employed by the rancheros or vaqueros are mentioned with full appreciation of their serviceability; but the ordinary expressions concerning the despised yet dreaded Seri are precisely those employed in recounting conflicts with carnivorous beasts. When Andrés Noriega’s kinswoman proudly related how he 255* alone once overawed and routed an attacking party of 30 Seri warriors, she duly mentioned the carbine ready for use in his hands and the six-shooter and machete in his belt; but nothing was said of the Seri weapons. When a distinguished sportsman citizen of Caborca, the local authority on the Seri, sought to dissuade the 1895 expedition from visiting Tiburon, he was repetitively and cumulatively emphatic in his oracular forecast, “Ils vont vous tuer! Ils vont vous tuer!! Ils vont vous tuer!!!”—yet he made but passing reference to “poisoned” arrows, and none to other weapons, in the general implication that invaders of the tribal territory were torn limb from limb and strewn over the rocks and deserts of Seriland. When Jesus Omada, of Bacuachito, boasted his Seri scars, he indeed emphasized the arrow-mark on his breast, but only as a prelude and foil to the far ghastlier record of his teeth-torn arm. When Robinson and his companion were butchered on Tiburon in 1894, the bloody work was effected chiefly by means of a borrowed Winchester; and neither the account of the survivors nor that of the actors made mention of native weapons—save the stones with which the second victim was finished according to the local version. In short, most of the casual expressions and fuller recitals alike indicate that while the Seri are famous fighters their weapons—except the much-dreaded “poisoned” arrows—are incidents rather than essentials to savage assaults, and that their prowess rests primarily on bodily the strength and swiftness.

According to the consistent accounts of several survivors of clashes with the Seri, their main weapons are arrows, stones, and clubs—though many survivors express more fear of the choking hands and tearing teeth of the savage warriors than of all their weapons put together. An interesting aspect of these accounts is how rarely weapons are mentioned; the ambushes, traps, or chance encounters, with their disastrous or fortunate outcomes, are often described in a lot of detail; the carbines or rifles, the machetes and knives, or the skillfully thrown riatas used by the ranchers or cowboys are acknowledged for their effectiveness; but the usual terms used for the despised yet feared Seri are the same ones used when talking about encounters with carnivorous animals. When Andrés Noriega’s relative proudly recounted how he single-handedly intimidated and defeated a group of 30 Seri warriors, she mentioned the carbine ready for action in his hands, along with the six-shooter and machete at his belt; however, there was no mention of the Seri's weapons. When a prominent local hunter from Caborca, who was an expert on the Seri, tried to persuade the 1895 expedition against going to Tiburon, he repeatedly emphasized in his prophetic warnings, “They will kill you! They will kill you!! They're gonna kill you!!!”—yet he only briefly referred to “poisoned” arrows and said nothing about other weapons, implying that anyone invading their territory would be torn apart and scattered across the rocks and deserts of Seriland. When Jesus Omada from Bacuachito bragged about his Seri scars, he focused on the arrow wound on his chest, but only to set the stage for the much grimmer tale of his teeth-torn arm. When Robinson and his companion were killed on Tiburon in 1894, the gruesome act was mostly carried out with a borrowed Winchester; neither the survivors’ account nor the attackers’ mentioned the local weapons—except for the stones used to finish off the second victim according to local reports. In short, both everyday phrases and more detailed stories suggest that while the Seri are known for being fierce fighters, their weapons—except for the feared “poisoned” arrows—are more of an afterthought than crucial to their violent attacks, and their true strength lies mainly in their physical power and speed.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LIII

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LIII

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

The Heliotype Printing Co., Boston

HAMMER AND GRINDER

Hammer and grinder

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LIV

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SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LIV

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

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IMPLEMENT SHAPED BY USE

USE-SHAPED IMPLEMENT

The stones used in battle, as described by the survivors and as intimated by Mashém, are cobbles as large as a fist, i. e., hupfs of typical form and size. So far as is known they are never hurled, slung, nor projected in any other manner, nor are they hafted or attached to cords after widespread aboriginal customs; they are merely held in the hand, as in the slaughter of quarry. Hardy made note of a war-club—“They use likewise a sort of wooden mallet called Macána, for close quarters in war”;301 but nothing of the kind was found at Costa Rica in 1894, and no woodwork suggesting such use was found in the depths of Seriland in 1895.

The stones used in battles, according to the survivors and as hinted at by Mashém, are fist-sized cobbles, which are typical in shape and size. As far as we know, they are never thrown, slung, or used in any other way, nor are they attached to cords like in many ancient practices; they are simply held in hand, similar to how one would handle game in a hunt. Hardy noted a type of war club—“They also use a kind of wooden mallet called Macána for close quarters in battle”;301 but nothing like that was found in Costa Rica in 1894, and no woodwork indicating such use was discovered in the depths of Seriland in 1895.

The most conspicuous and doubtless the most effective war weapon is the arrow projected from the bow in the unusual if not unique fashion already noted (ante, p. 201). There is nothing to indicate that the Seri are especially effective archers; the facts (1) that a large part of the arrows are pointless, save for the hard-wood foreshafts; (2) that stone arrowpoints are not habitually used; and (3) that comparatively slight reference is made to the use of arrows in records and recitals of Seri battles, tend on the contrary to indicate inferior ability in archery. And in the course of the explorations by the 1895 expedition it was noted that the feral fowls and animals of Seriland—pelican, gull, snipe, curlew, cormorant, coyote, hare, bura, mountain sheep, peccary, etc.—displayed little fear of human figures at distances exceeding 75 yards, 256* and seldom stirred until the stranger approached within 50 or 60 yards; whence it may be assumed that these distances fairly indicate the ordinary range of Seri arrows. The few accounts of conflicts in which arrows are mentioned prove, however, that those missiles are discharged with great rapidity and in considerable numbers during the brief interval to which the fighting is customarily limited.

The most obvious and undoubtedly the most effective weapon in war is the arrow shot from the bow in the unusual, if not unique, way mentioned earlier (ante, p. 201). There's no evidence that the Seri are particularly skilled archers. The facts are: (1) many of the arrows are without points, except for the hard-wood foreshafts; (2) stone arrowheads are not typically used; and (3) there's relatively little mention of arrows in records and stories about Seri battles, which suggests lesser skill in archery. During the explorations by the 1895 expedition, it was observed that the wild birds and animals in Seriland—like pelicans, gulls, snipes, curlews, cormorants, coyotes, hares, burros, mountain sheep, peccaries, etc.—showed little fear of people at distances over 75 yards and rarely moved until someone got within 50 or 60 yards. This implies that these distances likely reflect the usual range of Seri arrows. However, the few accounts of conflicts where arrows are mentioned indicate that these projectiles are fired quickly and in large numbers during the brief timespan that the fighting usually lasts.

The most notorious feature of the Seri warfare, and that of deepest interest to students, is the reputed use of poisoned arrows. The scattered literature of the tribe, from the days of Coronado onward, abounds in references to this custom; the Jesuit authorities give somewhat varied yet fairly consistent descriptions of the preparation and the effects of these arrows; Hardy added his testimony as to the character of the poison; General Stone gave directly corroborative evidence; haciendero Encinas gives witness to the effects of the envenomed missiles on his own stock; while Mashém recounted to the 1894 expedition the various uses of the “poisoned” arrows and highly extolled their potency, though he was noncommittal—save in casual allusions—as to the details of the poisoning. A part of the arrows acquired by this expedition and now preserved in the National Museum were professedly poisoned; they are easily distinguished by a thin varnish of gummy and greasy substance over the iron tips and wooden foreshafts, and especially about the attachments of mesquite gum and sinew. According to Mashém’s asseverations, such arrows are habitually used in war save when the supply is exhausted by continued demand; they are also used occasionally in hunting, especially for deer and lions (i. e., the swiftest and fiercest game of the region); and the use of the poisoned missile does not destroy the meat of the animal, though the portion immediately about the wound is “thrown away”. Two of the treated arrows brought back from Costa Rica were submitted to Dr S. Weir Mitchell some months afterward for examination, and for identification of any poisonous matter found on them; but no poison was detected. On the whole, the data concerning the reputed arrow poisoning are less definite than might be desired; yet they are sufficient to suggest the nature of the custom with considerable clearness.

The most well-known aspect of Seri warfare, which is of great interest to students, is their supposed use of poisoned arrows. The scattered writings about the tribe, dating back to the time of Coronado, are filled with references to this practice. Jesuit accounts provide somewhat varied but fairly consistent descriptions of how these arrows are made and their effects; Hardy added his observations about the type of poison used; General Stone provided direct corroborating evidence; haciendero Encinas testified to the effects of the poisoned arrows on his own livestock; while Mashém shared with the 1894 expedition the various uses of “poisoned” arrows and praised their effectiveness, although he was vague about the details of the poisoning except for some casual mentions. Some of the arrows collected by this expedition, which are now kept in the National Museum, were said to be poisoned; they can be easily recognized by a thin layer of gummy and greasy substance on the iron tips and wooden shafts, particularly around where mesquite gum and sinew are attached. According to Mashém, such arrows are typically used in war unless the supply runs low due to high demand; they are also occasionally used for hunting, especially for deer and lions (the fastest and fiercest game in the area); and using the poisoned arrows doesn't spoil the meat of the animal, though the part right around the wound is “thrown away.” Two of the treated arrows brought back from Costa Rica were sent to Dr. S. Weir Mitchell several months later for examination to identify any poisonous material on them, but no poison was found. Overall, the information regarding the rumored arrow poisoning is less clear than one might hope, yet it is enough to give a fairly clear idea of the custom.

In any consideration of Seri customs it is to be realized that the folk are notably primitive in thought, and hence deeply steeped in that overweening mysticism which, dominates all lowly folk—that they still cling to zoomimic motives in their simple handicraft, and are still wholly within zootheism in their lowly faith. In the light of this realization the numerous consistent records of the preparation of the poison are easily interpreted, and are found to be fully in accord with the prevailing motives of the tribe; and the interpretation serves to explain the somewhat discrepant accounts of the effects of the poison, effects ranging from nil to horrible sepsis. According to the more circumstantial recipes, the first constituent of the poison is a portion of lung, preferably human—a selection readily explained by pristine philosophy, 257* in which the breath is life, and the lungs at once the seat and the symbol of vitality. Naturally the fleshly symbol is from a dead body; and just as the lung denotes vitality in life, so (in primitive thought) it denotes an emphasized, as it were an incarnated, antithesis of vitality in death. Next, as the recipes continue, this death-symbol is exposed to the most potent agencies of death—to the bites of maddened rattlesnakes, to the stings of irritated scorpions, to the venomed trailings of harried centipedes. Then the deadly creatures are themselves killed, and the fanged heads of the serpents, the stinging tails of the scorpions, and the fiery feet of the centipedes, together with portions of redolent ordure from the grave-cairns, and other symbols of death and decay are crushed and macerated with the mass in a wizard’s brew, grewsome beyond the emasculated and degraded witch’s broth of medieval times. Finally, the grisly mess is allowed to simmer in a stinkpot302 shell under the fierce desert sun until its ripeness and putrid potency are attested by the rank fetor of death; when it is ready for its ruthless use. Thus the entire recipe is thaumaturgic in concept, necromantic in detail; it represents merely the malevolent machinations of the medicine man seeking success by spells and enchantments; it stands for no rational system of thought or practice, but pertains wholly to the plane of shamanism and sorcery. So interpreted the recipe is readily understood; the several witnesses who have independently obtained it are justified, and Mashém’s details and unwilling intimations are made clear—especially if the sacrificed flesh about the wound in deer or lion be deemed an oblation, such as primitive folk are given to making.

In any discussion of Seri customs, it's important to recognize that the people have a notably primitive way of thinking, which leads them to be deeply immersed in mysticism that characterizes many lowly communities. They still hold onto zoomimic ideas in their simple crafts and remain completely within zootheism in their basic beliefs. Understanding this helps make sense of the many consistent records regarding how the poison is prepared, aligning them with the tribe's prevailing motives, and it explains the varying accounts of the poison's effects, which range from none at all to severe sepsis. According to the more detailed recipes, the first ingredient of the poison is a piece of lung, preferably human—this choice can be easily understood through their primitive philosophy, where breath is seen as life and the lungs symbolize vitality. Naturally, the lung used comes from a dead body; and just as the lung signifies life in a living being, it represents a strong, almost incarnated opposite of vitality in death. Next, the recipes describe how this symbol of death is subjected to powerful agents of death: the bites of enraged rattlesnakes, the stings of agitated scorpions, and the poisonous trails of disturbed centipedes. Afterward, the deadly creatures are killed, and the fanged heads of the snakes, the stinging tails of the scorpions, and the fiery feet of the centipedes, along with foul remnants from grave mounds and other symbols of death and decay, are crushed and blended into a noxious mixture, gruesome beyond the diluted and degraded potions of medieval witches. Finally, the nasty concoction is allowed to boil in a stinkpot shell under the blazing desert sun until it reaches an advanced level of putrid potency, marked by the foul smell of death; at this point, it’s ready for its ruthless application. Therefore, the entire recipe is magical in theory and necromantic in specifics; it represents merely the harmful schemes of the medicine man trying to achieve success through spells and enchantments, standing for no rational thought or practice, but relating entirely to the realm of shamanism and sorcery. Viewed this way, the recipe is easily understood; the various witnesses who have independently obtained it are validated, and Mashém's details and hesitant suggestions are clarified—especially if the sacrificed flesh near the wound on a deer or lion is considered an offering, as primitive people often tend to do.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LV

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LV

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

THE HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON

IMPLEMENT PERFECTED BY USE

Improved through use

While thus the motive of the medicine-man in compounding his loathsome mess is wholly necromantic, serious consequences of its use must occasionally supervene; and though these may be incidental so far as the philosophy is concerned, they may tend reflexly toward the perpetuation of the custom. In the course of the preparation of the charm-poison, and especially in the final ripening process, morbific germs and ptomaines must be developed; these may retain their virulence up to the time of use, particularly when a batch of poison is prepared for a special occasion and the arrows are used while the application is still fresh; and in such cases the wound might initiate septicemia of the sort described in Castañeda’s early narrative and still more clearly displayed by Señor Encinas’ saddle-horse (ante, p. 112). Naturally the incidentally zymotic varnish frequently fails of effect, and can hardly be expected to remain morbific long enough to be detected in laboratory experiments; yet it is probable, as attested by Mashém’s guarded expressions, that the occasionally terrible results of such poisoning are within the ken of the Seri shamans.

While the medicine-man's reason for mixing his disgusting concoction is completely tied to necromancy, using it can sometimes lead to serious consequences. Even if these effects are secondary in terms of the underlying philosophy, they might contribute to the continuation of the practice. During the preparation of the charm-poison, especially during the final maturation process, harmful germs and toxins are developed; these can remain potent until they're used, especially when the poison is prepared for a specific event and the arrows are used while the application is still fresh. In such cases, the wound could lead to septicemia like the one described in Castañeda’s early accounts and more clearly illustrated by Señor Encinas’ saddle-horse (ante, p. 112). Naturally, the sometimes ineffective contamination often doesn't have a lasting impact and is unlikely to be detectable in lab tests for long; however, it’s likely, as suggested by Mashém’s cautious wording, that the occasionally severe outcomes of such poisoning are known to the Seri shamans.

It is noteworthy that the various early accounts of the Seri arrow-poisoning are strikingly consistent, though sufficiently diverse to 258* attest independence in origin; it is also noteworthy that several of the accounts are given hesitatingly and half qualifiedly, with alternative references (obviously hypothetical) to vegetal sources of poison. Thus the author of “Rudo Ensayo” qualified a characteristic (though brief) account of the preparation of the poison by adding: “But this is mere guesswork, and no doubt the main ingredient is some root.”303 So, too, Hardy described the compounding of the brew in much detail, adding the significant statement that “when the whole mass is in a high state of corruption the old women take the arrows and pass their points through it”; yet he could not resist the alternative hypothesis, and added: “Others again say that the poison is obtained from the juice of the yerba de la flécha (arrow-wort).”304 Bartlett “was told that the Ceris tip their arrows with poison; but how it was effected I [he] could not learn,” and so he contented himself with quoting Hardy’s account.305 Stone gave the recipe in fairly similar terms, adding that the morbific mass is hung up “to putrefy in a bag, and in the drippings of this bag they soak their arrowheads”; and he gave a characteristic account of the effect of a wound from a poisoned arrow on a human subject (ante, p. 100). Pajeken independently attested the virulence of the poison, and described the consequences of a slight wound suffered by his horse (ante, p. 101), while Pimentel gave independent corroboration, and Orozco y Berra added the further information that the proverbially deadly poison is fortified “by superstitious practices” (ante, p. 103). Bancroft gave currency to the customary recipe, and also to the complementary hypothesis that the “magot” may be the source of the poison; while Dewey merely mentioned the reputed use of poisoned arrows. Like their predecessors, the vaqueros of today are familiar with the tradition of a necromantic brew; but many of them—like Don Jesus Omada, of Bacuachito, and Don Ramon Noriega, of Pozo Noriega—display a much more lively interest in the local yerba mala, or yerba de flécha, of which they stand in such mortal dread that they can hardly be induced to approach a clump of it, and which they conceive must add the final crux to the brew. This plant was described in “Rudo Ensayo”: “Mago, in the Opata language, is a small tree, very green, luxuriant, and beautiful to the eye; but it contains a deadly juice which flows upon making a slight incision in the bark. The natives rub their arrows with it, and for this reason they call it arrow-grass; but at present they use very little.”306 Elsewhere the anonymous author mentions the use of (presumably) this poison by the Jova, and describes it as “so deadly that it kills not only the wounded person, but also him who undertakes the cure by sucking the wound, as is customary with all the Indians”; the description implying that the infection is irremediable.307 Yet he apparently discriminated this poison from that of the Seri, for which another plant known as caramatraca 259* is an infallible remedy. On the whole it seems probable that the yerba mala (Sebastiano bilocularis?), or yerba de flécha, or mago, or magot, yielded or formed the standard arrow-poison of the Opata and perhaps of other Indians, and that the ill-repute of the shrub survived and spread throughout Mexicanized Sonora in such frequent repetition and common belief as to affect the ideas of residents and travelers alike; but it seems equally probable that the magic-inspired brew of the Seri is entirely distinct.308

Many early accounts of the Seri arrow-poisoning are remarkably consistent, yet diverse enough to show they originated independently. It's also interesting that several of these accounts are shared tentatively and with some qualifications, suggesting alternative, likely hypothetical, plant sources for the poison. For instance, the author of “Rudo Ensayo” offered a brief account of how the poison is made but noted, “But this is just a guess; the main ingredient is probably some root.” Similarly, Hardy detailed the process of making the brew, remarking significantly that "when the whole mixture is highly decayed, the old women take the arrows and dip their tips into it.” However, he also mentioned another theory, stating, “Others say that the poison comes from the juice of the yerba de la flécha (arrow-wort).” Bartlett recalled, “I was told that the Ceris poison their arrows, but I couldn't learn how they do it,” so he quoted Hardy’s findings instead. Stone provided a recipe in similar terms, adding that the toxic substance is left “to rot in a bag, and they soak their arrowheads in the drippings from it”; he also shared a vivid account of how a poisoned arrow affects a human (ante, p. 100). Pajeken verified the poison's potency and described the effects of a minor injury sustained by his horse (ante, p. 101). Pimentel gave independent confirmation, while Orozco y Berra added that this notoriously lethal poison is enhanced “by superstitious practices” (ante, p. 103). Bancroft circulated the usual recipe and also suggested that the “magot” might be the poison’s source, while Dewey simply referenced the use of poisoned arrows. Like their predecessors, today's vaqueros are familiar with the legend of a necromantic brew, yet many—like Don Jesus Omada from Bacuachito and Don Ramon Noriega from Pozo Noriega—show a much stronger interest in the local yerba mala or yerba de flécha, which they fear so much that they can hardly be persuaded to go near it. They believe it must be crucial for the brew's potency. This plant was described in “Rudo Ensayo”: “Mago, in the Opata language, is a small, very green, lush, and attractive tree; but it produces a deadly juice that drips when the bark is slightly cut. The natives coat their arrows with it, which is why they call it arrow-grass; however, they currently use it very little.” Elsewhere, the anonymous author refers to this poison, presumably, being utilized by the Jova, describing it as “so deadly that it kills not just the wounded person, but also anyone who tries to heal by sucking the wound, as is customary with all Indians.” This description suggests that the infection is incurable. Yet, he seems to distinguish this poison from that of the Seri, which another plant known as caramatraca cures effectively. Overall, it appears likely that yerba mala (Sebastiano bilocularis?), or yerba de flécha, or mago, or magot, was the standard arrow-poison for the Opata and possibly other Indigenous peoples, and that the bad reputation of this shrub has persisted and spread throughout Mexicanized Sonora through frequent mention and common belief, affecting the perceptions of both locals and travelers. However, it seems equally likely that the magic-based brew of the Seri is completely different.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LVI

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
SEVENTEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. LVI

PERFECTED IMPLEMENT FOUND IN USE

Perfected tool found in use


As suggested by widespread primitive customs, and as illustrated specifically by the arrow-charming, the warfare of the Seri is largely sortilegic, this feature being but an extension and magnification of a corresponding feature of their hunting customs. The economic object of the chase is, of course, the flesh of the quarry; but the hunt normally begins with invocatory or other fiducial ceremonies, culminates in a feast opened with oblations, and ends in the use of horns or hoofs, teeth or bones, mane or tail, as talisman-trophies—primarily pledges of fealty to the favorable potencies, only secondarily symbols of success. The observances illumine the ever-present esoteric object of the chase, which is to gain the favor or overcome the power of the beast-god represented by the animal hunted; in general, this is sought to be effected through mimetic movements, or symbolic objects, associated with that animal-kind, and the retained charm-trophy is valued as a symbol of the placation or outwitting of a particular deity. Similarly, the Seri warrior strives for the supposed deific symbols of the enemy—the scalp or headdress or arrow of the alien tribesman, the fire-breathing and echo-waking (as well as death-dealing) wand of the Caucasian; and the Papago arrows, Yaqui scalps, and white man’s firearms are sought avidly, treasured as fetishes, and often carried conspicuously as badges of borrowed prowess.309 So the Seri are never without alien insignia in the form of weapons. The day before the 1895 expedition entered their stronghold, a band of warriors and women were frightened from a freshly slaughtered cow by a party of vaqueros so suddenly that their arms were left behind—and these 260* included a heavy Springfield “remodeled” rifle, lacking not only ammunition but breechblock and firing pin; while Don Andrés Noriega, of Costa Rica, and L. K. Thompson, of Hermosillo, described a rifle of modern make captured similarly two years before, which was in good working order and charged with a counterfeit cartridge ingeniously fashioned from raw buckskin in imitation of a center-fire brass shell and loaded with a polished stone bullet.310 The finders opined that the rifles were carried to bluff the enemy, and even that the counterfeit cartridge was designed to do deadly execution; but it would better accord with Seri customs, and with the law of piratical acculturation which they typify,311 to infer that the weapons were regarded rather as symbols of mystical potencies than as simple scarecrows. Of related import were two or three pseudomachetes made from rust-pitted cask hoops, reported by the majordomo and several vaqueros at Costa Rica; and of still greater significance was a machete picked up in a just-abandoned jacal by Don Ygnacio Lozania—veteran of the Andrade expedition and the Encinas conquest—which was laboriously rasped and scraped out of paloblanco wood, colored in imitation of iron blade and mahogany handle by means of face-paints, and even furnished with “eyes” replacing the handle-rivets, in the form of embedded iron scales. Some of the Seri are familiar with the normal use of firearms, as was demonstrated by the Robinson and other episodes, and many of them modernly make some use of machetes or other knives, as shown by various rudely whittled wooden artifacts; yet the burden of proof indicates that the chief use of the Caucasian’s weapons in the heat of actual warfare is shamanistic and symbolic. This interpretation is, in fact, practically established by the experience of the frontier; for the vaqueros and local soldiery have little fear of the ill-understood firearms and clumsily handled machetes occasionally seen in Seri hands, though they dread unspeakably the necromantic arrows and flesh-rending teeth with which the agile foes are credited.

As shown by widespread primitive customs and specifically illustrated by arrow-charming, the warfare of the Seri is largely about magic. This is an extension and amplification of a similar aspect of their hunting practices. The main goal of the hunt is, of course, the meat of the animal, but the hunt usually starts with rituals or ceremonies to invoke support, peaks with a feast that begins with offerings, and concludes with the use of horns, hooves, teeth, bones, mane, or tail as trophies—primarily as pledges of loyalty to favorable powers, and secondarily as symbols of success. These practices highlight the underlying spiritual goal of the hunt, which is to gain favor or overcome the power of the beast-god represented by the hunted animal. Generally, this is attempted through imitative movements, or symbolic items associated with that animal, and the charm-trophy is valued as a symbol of appeasing or outsmarting a particular deity. In the same way, the Seri warrior seeks the supposed divine symbols of the enemy—the scalp, headdress, or arrow of the rival tribesman, and the fire-breathing, echo-producing (as well as deadly) weapon of the Caucasian; they eagerly seek the Papago arrows, Yaqui scalps, and white men’s firearms, treasuring them as fetishes and often displaying them as badges of borrowed power. So, the Seri always possess foreign symbols in the form of weapons. The day before the 1895 expedition entered their stronghold, a group of warriors and women were startled away from a freshly slaughtered cow by a party of cowhands so quickly that they left their weapons behind—including a heavy Springfield rifle that had been "remodeled," missing not just ammunition but also a breechblock and firing pin; meanwhile, Don Andrés Noriega from Costa Rica and L. K. Thompson from Hermosillo described a modern rifle that had been captured two years earlier, which was in good working condition and loaded with a counterfeit cartridge cleverly made from raw buckskin to imitate a center-fire brass shell with a polished stone bullet inside. The finders believed that the rifles were carried to intimidate the enemy, and that the counterfeit cartridge was meant to inflict deadly harm; however, it seems more fitting with Seri customs, and with the nature of their cultural assimilation, to think that the weapons were viewed more as symbols of mystical powers than as mere scare tactics. Related to this were two or three fake machetes made from rusted cask hoops, reported by the manager and several cowhands in Costa Rica; of even greater significance was a machete picked up in an abandoned jacal by Don Ygnacio Lozania— a veteran of the Andrade expedition and the Encinas conquest— which was painstakingly shaped from paloblanco wood, painted to look like an iron blade with a mahogany handle using face-paints, and even adorned with “eyes” replacing the handle rivets, formed from embedded iron scales. Some of the Seri are familiar with the typical use of firearms, as shown by the Robinson and other incidents, and many of them today use machetes or other knives, indicated by various roughly carved wooden items; yet the evidence suggests that the main purpose of the Caucasian weapons in actual warfare is shamanistic and symbolic. This interpretation is almost confirmed by frontier experiences; for the cowhands and local soldiers have little fear of the poorly understood firearms and clumsily handled machetes that are occasionally seen in Seri possession, but they dread greatly the magical arrows and flesh-tearing teeth that their agile foes are believed to wield.

The mystical potency ascribed to Caucasian firearms and cutlery by the zoomimic tribesmen is of interest as a reflection of motives and methods pervading the entire range of their activities; at the same time it suggests the genesis of the aberrant technolithic craft displayed in arrow-chipping. The information obtained from Mashém and his mates concerning chipped arrowpoints implied that the process was hieratic and little understood by the body of the tribe, its place in the tribal knowledge, indeed, being similar to that of the brewing of the arrow “poison”, which is the special work of shamans; and this information, comporting as it does with the rarity of the chipped points and 261* the crudeness of the work, strongly supports the inference that the stone arrow-making of the Seri was originally a fetishistic mimicry of alien devices—a plane, indeed, above which the craft has hardly risen even in recent decades.

The mystical powers attributed to Caucasian firearms and knives by the zoomimic tribesmen are intriguing as they reflect the motives and methods underlying all their activities; they also hint at the origins of the unusual stonecraft seen in arrow chipping. The information gathered from Mashém and his peers about chipped arrowheads indicated that the process was sacred and not well understood by the tribe as a whole, with its role in tribal knowledge mirroring that of the preparation of arrow "poison," which is specifically the work of shamans. This information, aligning with the rarity of the chipped points and the roughness of the craftsmanship, strongly suggests that the stone arrow-making of the Seri was initially a ritualistic imitation of foreign tools—a level of skill that hasn't improved notably even in recent decades. 261*


While the Seri are devoid of military tactics in the strict sense of the term, they have certain customs of warfare which seem to be scrupulously observed. These customs are closely akin to those followed in hunting the larger land animals—indeed, the warfare of the tribe is merely an intensified counterpart of their chase.

While the Seri don't have military tactics in the strict sense of the word, they do have specific customs related to warfare that are carefully followed. These customs are very similar to those used in hunting larger land animals—in fact, the tribe's warfare is just an intensified version of their hunting.

The favorite tactical device of the warriors, as indicated by the great majority of their battles, is the ambuscade, laid and sprung either with or without the aid of decoys (usually aged women). Sometimes a considerable body act in concert under a prearranged plan; more commonly a few warriors only are involved at the outset, though these may be joined as the crisis approaches by companions lurking behind rocks and shrubs to be either on hand at the finish or in the way of ready flight, according to the turn of the battle-tide; and it is probable that the greater part of the ambuscades prove stillborn by reason of the oozing courage of leaders and the shirking of their supporters if the prospective victims present a bold front, or if the final omens are otherwise adverse. The ambuscade, with its flying contingent, grades into the device of stalking a stationary or slowly moving enemy, the stealthy approach terminating either in covert attack at close range or in sudden rush by a superior force. The theory, or rather the instinctive plan, of the campaign is to seek advantage in both position and numbers, to keep under cover until the instant of attack, to have sure and ample lines of retreat, and in every way to minimize individual risk.

The preferred tactic of the warriors, as shown by most of their battles, is the ambush, which is set up and triggered either with or without decoys (usually older women). Sometimes a large group acts together under a prearranged plan; more often, only a few warriors are involved at first, but they may be joined later by others hiding behind rocks and bushes to either help at the end or provide a quick escape, depending on how the battle goes. It’s likely that many ambushes fail because of the cowardice of the leaders and the reluctance of their supporters if the intended victims appear confident or if the signs turn unfavorable. The ambush, along with its hidden backup, transitions into the tactic of stalking a stationary or slowly moving enemy, with a stealthy approach leading to either a covert attack at close range or a sudden charge by a larger force. The strategy, or rather the instinctive plan, of the campaign is to find an advantage in both position and numbers, to stay hidden until the moment of attack, to ensure safe and ample escape routes, and to minimize individual risk in every way.

There is a widespread notion toward the Seri frontier that the savages are given to sorties and surprises by night; but both specific testimony and the records indicate, when carefully analyzed, that this tactical device is much less common in practice than in repute, and is not, indeed, characteristic of the tribe. A few known battles began in attacks by night; but the war parties, like the hunting and fishing parties (save in the semiceremonial pelican pilgrimages), display decided preference for daylight in their forays—indeed, there are various indications that the folk are much more timid and oppressed with superstitious fears by night than by day.

There’s a common belief about the Seri frontier that the natives frequently engage in nighttime raids and surprises; however, both specific evidence and records show, upon careful examination, that this tactic is much less common in reality than people think and is not, in fact, characteristic of the tribe. A few known battles started with nighttime attacks; however, war parties, similar to hunting and fishing groups (except for the semi-ceremonial pelican pilgrimages), clearly prefer to operate during the day. In fact, there are various signs that the people are much more timid and burdened by superstitious fears at night than during the day.

In rare cases small parties of aliens have been half openly surrounded and done to death by considerably larger parties of the savage folk; but this method, too, is incongruous with the fixed habits of the tribe and with the deep-planted instinct of avoiding personal exposure.

In rare cases, small groups of aliens have been partly surrounded and killed by much larger groups of the savage people; however, this method is also inconsistent with the tribe's established habits and the deeply-rooted instinct of avoiding personal exposure.

A considerable number of the long list of homicides charged against the Seri, and marking the beginning of many of their battles, were individual rather than collective, the consummation of inimical impulse sometimes treacherously concealed for favorable opportunity, as in the 262* pitiful case of Fray Crisóstomo Gil, and othertimes rising explosively beyond the feeble control of the untrained mind; for the impulse of enmity toward aliens is an ever-present possession—or obsession—of the tribe, and a reflection of that race-sense which is their most distinctive attribute.

A significant number of the extensive list of murders attributed to the Seri, which marked the start of many of their conflicts, were individual acts rather than collective ones. These were the result of hostile feelings that were sometimes sneakily hidden until the right moment, like in the tragic case of Fray Crisóstomo Gil. At other times, these feelings erupted uncontrollably from the untrained mind. The animosity toward outsiders is a constant part of the tribe’s identity—or obsession—and mirrors that racial awareness which is their most defining characteristic.

Of open warfare and face-to-face fighting there is hardly a germ among the Seri. When themselves ambushed or surrounded, some of their stouter warriors have in a few instances faced the foe for a few minutes at a time, as is shown by the annals of Cerro Prieto; yet this accidental attitude but betokens the play of chance rather than the plan of choice. Concordantly, the folk avoid the method of warfare (so common among other Amerind tribes as to be properly considered characteristic) involving open duel between chiefs and other warriors; they seem to be devoid of that sense of fairness in fighting which finds expression in the duel; and despite the individual advantages growing out of gigantic stature, immense strength, and superior swiftness, they habitually seek to combine in numbers against panicked or baffled enemies, just as their hunters throw themselves mercilessly on surrounded quarry. Of open boldness or confident prowess no trace appears; and the body of facts seems to justify the prevailing Sonoran opinion that the warfare of the Seri is treacherous and cowardly in design, craven and cruel in execution.

The Seri people hardly engage in open warfare or direct fighting. When they find themselves ambushed or surrounded, some of their braver warriors have occasionally stood up to the enemy for a few minutes, as shown by the records of Cerro Prieto; however, this response seems more like a stroke of luck than a deliberate strategy. Similarly, they avoid the common warfare methods seen in other Indigenous tribes, which often involve open duels between leaders and warriors. They seem to lack that sense of fairness in fighting that is shown in duels; despite having advantages like great height, immense strength, and superior speed, they usually prefer to team up against frightened or confused enemies, just like their hunters ruthlessly attack surrounded prey. There’s no sign of open bravery or confident skill; the facts support the common belief in Sonora that the Seri's way of fighting is deceitful and cowardly in intent, and ruthless and brutal in action.

Once begun, the conduct of the fray by the Seri fighters is fairly uniform; the warriors either discharge clouds of arrows from their coigns of vantage, or rush to brain their victims with stones, or to break their necks and limbs and crush in their chests, as in the slaughtering of quarry; and according to the tale of the occasional survivors—Señor Pascual Encinas and his son Manuel, Don Ygnacio Lozania, Don Andrés Noriega, Don Jesus Omada of Bacuachito, and Don Ramon Noriega of Pozo Noriega, are among the survivors and informants; also the sturdy Papago fighters, Mariana, Anton, Miguel, and Anton Castillo (whose sister died of dread while he was on the 1895 expedition)—the rushing warriors are transfigured with frenzy; their eyes blaze purple and green, their teeth glisten through snarling lips, their hair half rises in bristling mane, while their huge chests swell and their lithe limbs quiver in a fury sudden and blind and overpowering as that of springing puma or charging peccary. Of the successful assaults the ghastly end is rarely recorded, though whispered large in the lore of Sonora; in the unsuccessful assaults recounted by survivors the blood-frenzy burned but briefly and died swiftly as the disappointed warriors skulked silently behind rocks and shrubs, or fled across the sands with inconceivable fleetness. These details of battle precisely parallel the details of butchery of beastly quarry, as recounted by local observers and corroborated by Mashém’s recitals.

Once it starts, the way the Seri fighters handle the battle is pretty standard; the warriors either shoot volleys of arrows from their high spots, rush in to bash their targets with stones, or break their necks and limbs and crush their chests, like when hunting game. According to accounts from the few survivors—Señor Pascual Encinas and his son Manuel, Don Ygnacio Lozania, Don Andrés Noriega, Don Jesus Omada of Bacuachito, and Don Ramon Noriega of Pozo Noriega, who share their stories; as well as the tough Papago fighters, Mariana, Anton, Miguel, and Anton Castillo (whose sister died of fear while he was on the 1895 expedition)—the charging warriors become wild with rage; their eyes blaze purple and green, their teeth shine through snarling lips, their hair stands up like a spiky mane, while their massive chests puff out and their agile limbs tremble in a sudden, blind, and overwhelming fury, similar to that of a leaping puma or a charging peccary. The terrible outcomes of the successful attacks are seldom documented, although they are talked about a lot in the lore of Sonora; in the unsuccessful attacks shared by survivors, the bloodlust burned intensely but faded quickly as the disappointed warriors hid silently behind rocks and bushes or fled across the sands with incredible speed. These accounts of battle closely mirror the details of slaughtering animal prey, as described by local witnesses and supported by Mashém’s stories.

So far as can be ascertained the parallelism between frenzied battling and furious butchery in the chase affords the chief basis for the firm 263* Sonoran belief that the similarity extends one step farther, and that the human victims are rent and consumed, like the beasts. There is a lamentable lack of data concerning the alleged anthropophagy of the Seri; on the one hand there is the deep-seated local opinion, generally growing stronger as the tribal territory is approached, and agreeing so well with the hunting customs, the thaumaturgic arrow-poisoning, the zoomimic handicraft, and zootheistic faith, and especially with the pervading fetish-piracy of the folk, that its validity would seem inherently probable; on the other hand, there is not only a dearth of specific positive testimony, but haciendero Encinas (best informed among Caucasians concerning Seri customs) and several of his yeomen reject the prevailing belief, while Mashém consistently repudiated the custom, both in general and in particular, and in ceremonial as well as in economic aspects, whenever and in whatever way the subject was approached during his intercourse with the 1894 expedition. On the whole, the much-mooted question of Seri cannibalism must be left open pending further inquiry, with some preponderance of evidence against the existence of the custom.

As far as can be determined, the comparison between intense fighting and brutal slaughter during the hunt forms the main foundation for the strong belief among the Sonoran people that the similarity goes even further, and that human victims are torn apart and eaten, just like the animals. There is a troubling lack of evidence regarding the supposed cannibalism of the Seri; on one hand, there is a deeply rooted local belief, which tends to strengthen as one gets closer to tribal territory, aligning well with hunting practices, magical arrow-poisoning, animal-based crafts, and animal-worshiping faith, particularly with the prevalent fetishism in the community, making its validity seem quite probable; on the other hand, there is not only a scarcity of specific solid evidence, but haciendero Encinas (the most informed among Caucasians about Seri customs) and several of his workers deny this common belief, while Mashém consistently rejected the practice, both on general and specific terms, and in ceremonial as well as economic aspects, whenever the topic was brought up during his interactions with the 1894 expedition. Overall, the debated issue of Seri cannibalism must remain open for further investigation, with some evidence leaning against the existence of the practice.

The war-frenzy of the Seri fighters is significant in its parallelism with the blood-craze of the chase, and even more so in its analogy with the warpath customs and ceremonies of most Amerind tribes and many other primitive peoples. In typical tribes the warpath custom is a most distinctive one, standing for an abnormal state of mind and an unaccustomed habit of body, perhaps to the extent of an extreme exaltation or obsession akin to intoxication, in which the ordinary ideas of justice and humanity are inhibited; among most tribes the condition is sought voluntarily and deliberately when occasion is thought to demand, and is superinduced by fasts and vigils, exciting songs and ceremonies, and related means; while among certain tribes the aid of symbolic “medicines”, which may be actual intoxicants, is invoked. Thus the savage on the warpath is a different being from the same man in times of peace; viewed from his own standpoint, he is possessed of an alien and violent demon, usually that of a fantastic and furious beast-god whose rage he must symbolize and enact; viewed from the standpoint of higher culture, he is a raving and ruthless maniac whose craze is none the less complete by reason of its voluntary origin. The warpath frenzy is one of the fundamental, even if little understood, facts of primitive life, and the character of the savage tribe can not properly be weighed without appreciation of it. Now, the Seri blood-craze seems measurably distinct in two ways: in the first place, it expresses a more profound and bitter enmity toward aliens than is found among most savage tribes—i. e., it is instinctive and persistent in exceptional degree; in the second place, it is more spontaneous and explosive in its culmination when conditions favor than among tribesmen who induce the condition by elaborate preparation—i. e., it is dependent on the swift-changing hazard of warfare in exceptional 264* measure; so that the Seri frenzy is at once more instinctive and more fortuitous, or in general terms more inchoate, than the corresponding condition among most of their contemporaries. Accordingly the war customs, like several other features of the tribe, seem to afford a connecting link between the habits normal to carnivorous beasts and the well-organized war customs of somewhat higher culture-grades; and thus they contribute toward outlining the course of human development through some of its darker stages.

The intense aggression of the Seri fighters is notable for its similarity to the bloodlust of the hunt and even more so for its resemblance to the war customs and rituals of many Native American tribes and other primitive societies. In typical tribes, the customs of war represent a unique mindset and unusual physical behavior, often reaching a level of extreme excitement or obsession similar to being intoxicated, where normal ideas of justice and humanity are put aside; in many tribes, this state is sought out voluntarily and intentionally when the occasion calls for it, often induced by fasting, sleeplessness, energetic songs, ceremonies, and similar methods; in some tribes, the use of symbolic "medicines," which may include actual intoxicants, is involved. Therefore, a warrior on the warpath is a different person from who they are in peaceful times; from their perspective, they are possessed by a foreign and violent spirit, typically that of a mythical and furious beast-god whose rage they must embody and perform; from the viewpoint of greater culture, they seem like a frenzied and ruthless maniac, and this madness is no less intense because it is chosen. The frenzy of the warpath is one of the fundamental, albeit often misunderstood, realities of primitive life, and the nature of a savage tribe cannot be properly assessed without acknowledging it. The Seri bloodlust appears to differ in two main ways: first, it shows a deeper and more intense hostility toward outsiders than is common among most savage tribes—meaning it is instinctive and persistent to an exceptional degree; second, it is more spontaneous and explosive in its expression when conditions are favorable than among tribespeople who prepare extensively for it—indicating that it is influenced by the rapidly changing nature of war to an unusual extent. Thus, the Seri frenzy is both more instinctive and more random, generally speaking, more chaotic than similar states among their contemporaries. Consequently, their war customs, like several other aspects of the tribe, seem to provide a connection between the behaviors typical of carnivorous animals and the structured war customs of somewhat more advanced cultures; thus, they help to chart the path of human development through some of its darker phases.


Conformably with their poverty in offensive devices, the Seri are exceedingly poor in devices for defense. It is an impressive fact that a restricted motherland which has been successfully protected against invasion for nearly four centuries of history should be destitute of earthworks, fortifications, barricades, palisades, or other protective structures; yet no such structures exist on any of the natural lines of approach, and none are known anywhere in Seriland save in a single spot—Tinaja Trinchera—where there are a few walls of loose-laid stone, so unlike anything else in Seriland and so like the structures characteristic of Papagueria as to strongly indicate (if not to demonstrate) invasion and temporary occupancy by aliens. The jacales are not fortified in the slightest degree, unless the turtle-shells with which they are sometimes shingled be regarded as armor; even the most ancient rancherias are absolutely devoid of contravallations of earth, stone, or other material; and both the structures themselves and the expressions of the folk concerning them indicate that the jacales are not regarded as fortresses or places of refuge against enemies, but only as comfortable lodges for use in times of peace. Nor are walls like those of the borderland Tinaja Trinchera known in the interior of the tribal territory—e. g., the similarly conditioned Tinaja Anita, which differs only in the greater abundance and permanence of the water-supply, is entirely devoid of artificial structures, not even a pebble or bowlder being artificially placed save perchance by the casual trampling of the pathways. As already noted, the Seri seem to be practically devoid of knife-sense; they are still more completely devoid of fort-sense, although (and evidently because) they rely so fully on natural things, including tutelaries and their own fleetness, for safety.

In line with their lack of offensive weapons, the Seri also have very few defensive tools. It's remarkable that a small homeland, which has successfully defended itself against invasion for nearly four hundred years, lacks any earthworks, fortifications, barricades, palisades, or other protective structures. There are no such structures along any of the natural paths of approach, and the only known location in Seriland that has anything resembling this is Tinaja Trinchera, which features a few walls made of loosely stacked stones. These walls stand out as distinctly different from anything else in Seriland and closely resemble the structures typical of Papagueria, suggesting (if not outright proving) that there was an invasion and temporary occupation by outsiders. The jacales aren’t fortified at all, unless the turtle shells sometimes used as roofing are considered armor; even the oldest rancherias completely lack any earthen, stone, or other materials for defense. Both the buildings themselves and how people talk about them show that the jacales are seen not as fortresses or safe havens against enemies, but simply as comfortable places to stay during peaceful times. Similarly, walls like those at the borderland Tinaja Trinchera are not found in the interior of their territory. For example, Tinaja Anita, which has a better and more reliable water supply, contains no artificial structures—there aren’t even stones placed there artificially, except maybe through the random trampling of paths. As mentioned, the Seri seem to be almost entirely lacking in combat awareness; they are even more completely lacking in any sense of fortification, which is clearly because they depend so much on natural elements, including spiritual protectors and their own speed, for safety.

Although devoid of even the germ of fortification-sense, so far as can be discovered, the Seri are not without a sort of shield-sense, which is of much significance partly by reason of its inchoate character. The ordinary shield is a pelican pelt, or a robe or kilt comprising several skins; it is employed either for confusing the enemy by swift brandishing, something after the fashion of the capa of the banderillero in the bull ring, or for actual protection of the body against arrows and other missiles or weapons. So far as known it is not backed or otherwise strengthened, the user relying solely on the stout integument and thick feathers—or rather on the mystical properties imputed to the pelt as the mystery-tinged investiture of their chief creative tutelary. 265* On the coast bucklers are improvised from turtle-shells, though, according to Mashém (confirmed by direct observation), these are not carried inland for the purpose; but the protective function imputed to the turtle was well represented in the rancheria at Costa Rica by several fetishes made from phalanges of turtle-flippers tricked out in rags in imitation of Caucasian dress (somewhat like the mortuary fetishes illustrated in figure 40a and b). On the whole, the most conspicuous feature of the individual shields or protectors is their emblematic character; they are sortilegic rather than practical, and express imputation of mystical potencies rather than recognition of actual properties; and in this as in other respects they correspond closely with the offensive devices, and aid in defining the ideas and motives of the primitive warriors.

Although lacking even the slightest sense of fortification, as far as we can tell, the Seri people do possess a kind of shield sense, which is significant mainly because of its primitive nature. The typical shield is made from pelican skin or a robe or kilt made of several skins; it is used either to confuse the enemy by waving it around quickly, similar to how a banderillero uses a capa in a bullring, or for actual body protection against arrows and other projectiles. As far as we know, it isn't reinforced or strengthened in any way, with the user relying solely on the sturdy skin and thick feathers—or rather on the mystical properties attributed to the pelt, seen as the spiritually charged garment of their chief protective spirit. 265* On the coast, shields are improvised from turtle shells, though, according to Mashém (confirmed by direct observation), these are not taken inland; however, the protective power associated with turtles was prominently represented in the rancheria at Costa Rica by several fetishes made from turtle flipper bones dressed in rags to mimic Caucasian clothing (somewhat like the mortuary fetishes shown in figure 40a and b). Overall, the most notable aspect of the individual shields or protectors is their symbolic nature; they have magical significance rather than practical use, expressing beliefs in mystical powers rather than acknowledging actual properties; and in this way, as well as in other respects, they are closely related to offensive devices, helping to define the ideas and motivations of primitive warriors.

The actually effective protection of the Seri in warfare is their fleetness, coupled with their habitual and constitutional timidity, i. e., their wildness—for they are verily, as their Mexican neighbors say, “gente muy bronco”. Moreover, they are adepts in concealing their persons and their movements behind shrubbery and rocks, and in finding cover on the barest plains; and suggestions are not wanting that the protecting shrub-clumps and rocks of their wonted ranges are credited with occult powers and elevated to the lower places of their zoic pantheon, after the customary way of that overpowering zootheism, or animism, which the Seri so well exemplify in many of their habits.

The effective protection of the Seri in battle comes from their speed and their natural timidity, or wildness— as their Mexican neighbors describe them, "gente muy bronco." Additionally, they are skilled at hiding their bodies and movements behind bushes and rocks, and they know how to find cover even on the most barren plains. There are also suggestions that the shrubs and rocks they often inhabit are believed to have mystical powers, and they hold a special place in their spiritual belief system, much like the zootheism or animism that the Seri embody in many of their practices.


Summarily, the warfare of the Seri complements the pacific industries of the tribe in every essential respect. It is notable for improvidence, i. e., for reliance on chance; the dearth of devices for offense and defense parallels the poverty in industrial artifacts; and the disregard of fortifications is of a kind with the squandering of present food supplies and the utter neglect of provision for the future. A striking correspondence between workfare and warfare is found in the fierce blood-lust displayed alike in chase and battle, a feature manifestly borrowed from beasts and intensified by besetting beast-faith; and more striking still is the correspondence in motive, as revealed by the overlapping functions of the protective kilt, by the borrowing of animal symbols alike in peace and war, and by the imitation of animal movements on the warpath as in the chase.

In short, the warfare of the Seri tribe complements their peaceful activities in every important way. It stands out for its lack of planning, meaning a reliance on luck; the scarcity of offensive and defensive tools matches the limited industrial resources; and their neglect of fortifications is similar to how they waste current food supplies and completely ignore future provisions. A remarkable similarity between work and war is seen in the intense bloodlust shown in both hunting and fighting, a trait clearly taken from animals and heightened by a deep-seated belief in beastly power; even more striking is the similarity in motivation, as shown by the shared purposes of the protective kilt, the use of animal symbols in both peacetime and wartime, and the mimicry of animal movements during battles just like in hunting.

In the last synthesis the warfare of the Seri may be considered as characterized by two attributes: (1) The motives, so far as developed, are zoomimic in even greater degree than the prevailing motives of the pacific industries; and (2) the methods are shaped largely by mechanical chance, like those normal to protolithic industry.

In the final summary, the warfare of the Seri can be seen as having two key features: (1) The motives, as developed, are even more animalistic than those found in their peaceful activities; and (2) the methods are largely influenced by random mechanical factors, similar to those typical of primitive industries.

Emerging Industrial Development

Industries form the chief bond between man and his environment. The esthetic activities arise in the individual and extend to his fellows; the institutional activities express the relations among individual men 266* and groups; the linguistic activities serve to extend social relations in space and time, and the sophic activities to integrate and perpetuate all relations; but it is through the industrial activities that human intelligence interacts with physical nature and makes conquest of the material world. Accordingly, industries act as a steady and never-ceasing stimulus to intelligence; accordingly, too, the industrial activities afford the simplest and surest measure of intellectual advancement.

Industries are the main link between people and their environment. Aesthetic activities emerge within individuals and extend to those around them; institutional activities express the relationships between individuals and groups; linguistic activities help to expand social connections across time and space; and sophic activities aim to integrate and sustain all relationships. However, it is through industrial activities that human intelligence interacts with the physical world and conquers material challenges. Therefore, industries provide a constant and ongoing stimulus to intelligence, and they also offer the simplest and most reliable gauge of intellectual progress. 266*

Under this view of the place of industrial activities in human phylogeny, certain phases of Seri technology acquire importance and especial significance.

Under this perspective on the role of industrial activities in human evolution, specific stages of Seri technology gain importance and particular significance.

1. One of the most conspicuous features of Seri craft is its local character. The foodstuffs, the materials for appareling and habitations, and the substances utilized in the several lines of simple handicraft are essentially local; moreover, the characteristic methods and devices evidently reflect local environmental conditions. There are, indeed, a few phenomena suggesting, and a still less number demonstrating, extraneous origin; the balsa and the kilt are sufficiently similar to devices of other districts to suggest, though not to prove, genetic identity (indeed, the sum of indications of local origin is much weightier than the several suggestions of extraneous derivation); the iron harpoon-points and arrow-tips are mainly of local flotsam, and are essentially provincial in modes of employment; the chipped stone arrow-tips, though local in material, are foreign in motive; but on summarizing the industrial phenomena, it would appear that by far the greater share are essentially local, while the few of exceptional (and extraneous) character can be pretty definitely traced to importation through the social interactions of recent centuries.

1. One of the most noticeable features of Seri craft is its local character. The food, materials for clothing and housing, and the substances used in various simple crafts are primarily local; additionally, the unique methods and tools clearly reflect local environmental conditions. There are indeed a few instances suggesting, and even fewer demonstrating, outside influences; the balsa and the kilt are similar enough to items from other areas to suggest, but not confirm, a shared origin (in fact, the evidence supporting local origins is much stronger than the hints of outside influence); the iron harpoon points and arrow tips largely come from local sources and are mainly used in traditional ways; the chipped stone arrow tips, while made from local materials, have foreign inspirations; but overall, it seems that the vast majority of items are fundamentally local, while the few that are exceptional (and from outside) can be fairly clearly traced back to imports via social interactions in recent centuries.

2. An equally conspicuous feature of the industrial craft of the Seri is the dominance of chance in both processes and devices. The traditional “fisherman’s luck” is made exceptionally uncertain by the sudden gales and shifting currents of Seriland shores, while the absolute necessaries of life on land are still more capricious than those alongshore; this uncertainty of resources has profoundly affected the somatic features of the tribesman, as indicated elsewhere (ante, p. 159); and that the mental attributes of the folk are even more profoundly affected is attested by the role played by chance in the selection and shapement of the prevailing tools of stone and shell. The large role of chance in Seri life is also revealed, though less directly, in the overweening mysticism of zootheistic faith, with its material reflection in zoomimic craft.

2. A noticeable aspect of the Seri's industrial skills is how much chance influences both their processes and tools. The traditional “fisherman’s luck” is made even more unpredictable by the sudden storms and changing currents along the shores of Seriland, while the essential resources on land are even more unreliable than those by the water. This uncertainty in resources has significantly impacted the physical characteristics of the tribespeople, as noted elsewhere (ante, p. 159). Moreover, the mental traits of the community are even more deeply affected, which is evident in the role that chance plays in choosing and shaping the common tools made of stone and shell. The significant impact of chance in Seri life is also shown, though in a less direct way, through the intense mysticism of their zootheistic beliefs, which has a tangible expression in their zoomimic crafts.

3. When the local and fortuitous features of the Seri industries are juxtaposed they are found to express a notably inchoate or primitive stage of industrial development. In both the local and the fortuitous or accidental aspects, the activities are so closely adjusted to the immediate environment as to approach the instinctive agencies and movements of bestial life, and correspondingly to diverge from the composite 267* and cosmopolite characters of higher humanity; the dearth of extraneous devices denotes absence or intolerance of that accultural interchange accompanying and marking the progress of peoples; and the dearth of inventions denotes feebleness of creative faculty and absence of that self-confidence which accompanies and measures progress in nature-conquest.

3. When we compare the local and chance aspects of the Seri industries, we find they represent a clearly underdeveloped or basic stage of industrial growth. In both the local and the accidental elements, the activities are so closely aligned with the immediate surroundings that they resemble the instinctual behaviors of animals, and in turn, they diverge from the complex and cosmopolitan traits of more advanced humanity. The lack of external tools indicates a resistance to or absence of the cultural exchanges that usually accompany and signify the advancement of societies; similarly, the lack of inventions reflects a weakness in creativity and a lack of self-confidence, which typically accompany and indicate progress in overcoming challenges posed by nature.

4. When the local and fortuitous features of the Seri craft are viewed in their serial or sequential relations, they are found to reflect and attest autochthonal development. Excepting the few accultural processes and devices whose acquisition may confidently be traced to certain social interactions of the historic period, the Seri technic is too closely tied to local environment to warrant any supposition of importation from other districts. The question of the birthplace of the people may be left open in this case as in every other; but the birthplace of practically all those activities and activital products which define the folk as human was manifestly Seriland itself—so that the tribe, considered as a human folk rather than as a zoic variety, must be classed as autochthonous.

4. When the local and unique aspects of the Seri craft are examined in their sequential context, they clearly show and confirm local development. Aside from a few cultural influences and tools that can be traced back to specific social interactions during the historic period, the Seri techniques are so closely linked to their local environment that there's no reason to believe they came from other areas. The question of where the people originated may remain open, as it does in other cases; however, the origin of nearly all the activities and products that define the community as human is clearly Seriland itself—so the tribe, when viewed as a group of people rather than just a species, should be considered native to the area.

Summarily, then, the Seri industries are significant as (1) local, (2) fortuitous, (3) primitive, and (4) autochthonous; and these features combine to illumine a noteworthy stage in primitive thought.

In summary, the Seri industries are important because they are (1) local, (2) coincidental, (3) basic, and (4) indigenous; and these aspects together highlight an interesting phase in early human thinking.

5. On juxtaposing these significant features of Seri technic, they are found to reflect the tribal mind with noteworthy fidelity, and hence to indicate the sources of Seri mentations, and of the local culture in which these mentations are integrated. The local foodstuffs—especially that vital standard of values in arid regions, water—are periodic sources of the strongest aspirations and inspirations of industrial life, and the methods and devices for food-getting are but the legitimate offspring of the inevitable relation between effort and environment; the conspicuous role of chance is but the composite of the hard and capricious environment on the one hand, and of the lowly thought reflecting that environment on the other hand; the zoic faith into which the magma of recurrent chance has semicrystallized finds carnate symbols either in local beasts or in fantastic monsters suggested by those beasts; even the mating instinct, second only to thirst among the impelling action-factors of the folk, is so profoundly and bitterly provincial as to exclude foreign ideals to a degree unparalleled among known peoples. The industrial materials are local—but not more local than the thoughts in which they are reflected; the technical methods are unmistakably the offspring of the environment—but they are equally the offspring of minds reflecting that environment and no other; the few and simple devices stand for integrations of experiences, instinctive rather than ratiocinative, the germ of invention rather than even its opening bud—but the experiences bear the marks of that environment and no other. Accordingly, the mental side of Seri industry, and, indeed, of all Seri life, appears to be the counterpart of the physical 268* side. The Seri mind is (1) local, (2) chance-dominated, (3) exceeding lowly, and especially (4) autochthonal in its content and workings.

5. When we compare these important aspects of Seri technique, we see they closely reflect the tribal mentality, showing us the origins of Seri thinking and the local culture where these thoughts are blended. The local foods—especially the crucial resource in dry areas, water—serve as periodic sources of the strongest ambitions and inspirations for industrial life. The methods and tools for acquiring food are simply the natural result of the unavoidable connection between effort and environment. The significant role of luck is a mix of the harsh and unpredictable environment on one hand and the simplistic thoughts reflecting that environment on the other. The belief system shaped by recurring chance takes form in local animals or in the fantastic creatures inspired by them. Even the mating instinct, which is just below thirst as a driving force for the community, is deeply rooted and resistant to foreign ideals in a way that is unmatched by known cultures. The materials for industry are local—but not more than the thoughts in which they are reflected. The technical methods clearly arise from the environment—but they also come from minds that only reflect that environment. The few and simple tools represent a consolidation of experiences, instinctive rather than rational, the seed of invention rather than its full bloom—but these experiences are marked by that environment and no other. Therefore, the mental aspect of Seri industry, and indeed all of Seri life, appears to mirror the physical aspect. The Seri mindset is (1) local, (2) influenced by chance, (3) fundamentally simple, and especially (4) native in its content and functioning.


There is an aspect of the inference as to the local and autochthonal character of the Seri mind which is of wide-reaching application. As indicated by many tribes, though most clearly by the Seri, there is a definite relation between the somatic characteristics of primitive folk and their environment; the indications are that the relation is inversely proportionate to development, the lowliest tribes reflecting environment most closely, and the higher peoples responding less delicately to the environmental pressure in the ratio of their increased power of nature-conquest; and the relation is essentially phylogenetic, in that it sums and integrates the innumerable interactions between organic kind and environment during generations or ages. It is to be realized that the relation is not simple and direct or physiologic merely (e. g., like that between climate and the pelage of an animal), but that it is linked through the human activities; for, as is conspicuously the case in Seriland, the environment prompts exercises of particular kinds, and it is these exercises that shape the somatic features, such as strength of lung, length of limb, and the soundness of constitution displayed in physical endurance; yet the relation is none the less real, in that it operates through the activities rather than directly. The relation may be characterized with respect to mechanism as bodily responsion, or with respect to capacity as responsivity of body. Now, as is well illustrated by the provincial ideation of the Seri, the relation between environment and physique is accompanied by a corresponding relation between environment and thought. This relation, too, varies inversely with development, the connection being closest among the most primitive tribes, and growing less and less close with maturing mentality and proportionately increasing power of nature-contest; and the relation is still less direct (or physiologic merely) than that between the human body and its environment, in that not only the bodily activities but the instinctive and nascently ratiocinative processes are interposed. This relation between mind and environment may be characterized as mental responsion in its mechanical aspect, or as responsivity of mind when regarded as a psychic property.312 Accordingly, the relation between the tribal mind and its environment, as illumined by the peculiarly delicate interactions observed among the Seri, seem to indicate the genesis and earlier developmental stages of mentality in its multifarious aspects.

There’s an important insight regarding the local and native nature of the Seri mindset that applies broadly. As shown by many tribes, especially the Seri, there’s a clear link between the physical traits of primitive people and their surroundings; this link appears to be inversely proportional to development. The most basic tribes reflect their environment more closely, while more advanced societies respond less sensitively to environmental pressures as their ability to dominate nature increases. This relationship is fundamentally phylogenetic, summarizing countless interactions between living beings and their environment over generations or ages. It’s important to understand that this connection isn’t simple or merely physiological (like the relationship between climate and an animal's fur); it is intertwined with human activities. As seen clearly in Seriland, the environment encourages specific types of activities, and it’s these activities that shape physical traits such as lung capacity, limb length, and overall health and endurance. Nonetheless, the relationship is still real because it operates through these activities rather than directly. We can describe this connection in terms of mechanism as bodily response or in terms of capacity as responsivity of body. Now, as well illustrated by the local thought processes of the Seri, the relationship between environment and physical form is accompanied by a similar relationship between environment and thought. This connection also varies inversely with development, being closest among the most primitive tribes and becoming weaker with increasing mental maturity and greater capacity to challenge nature. Furthermore, this relationship is even less direct (or merely physiological) than that between the human body and its environment, as it involves not only bodily activities but also instinctual and emerging reasoning processes. This connection between mind and environment can be described as mental response in its mechanical aspect or as responsivity of mind when viewed as a psychological property. 312 Therefore, the relationship between the tribal mind and its environment, illuminated by the unique and subtle interactions observed among the Seri, seems to reveal the origins and early stages of mental development in its many forms.

The specially significant feature of the relation between environment on the one hand and body + mind on the other is its diminishing value with general intellectual advancement. Viewed serially, the 269* relation may be considered to begin in the animal realm with organisms adapted to environment through physiologic processes, and to end in that realm of enlightened humanity in which mind molds environment through complete nature-conquest. In the serial scale so defined the various primitive tribes and more advanced peoples may be arranged in the order of mental power or culture-status; when the same arrangement will express in inverse order the relative closeness with which the several tribal minds reflect their environments. It follows that the lowly minds and craft of the Seri reflect their distinctive environment with exceeding, perhaps unparalleled, closeness, because of their very lowliness; it follows, too, that any other equally lowly folk imported into the region and perfectly wonted to it by generations of experience would equally reflect the physical features of the region in their craft and in their thinking; it follows, also, that if the Seri were transported into any other district of equally distinctive physical features, they would gradually adapt themselves to the new environment—though with some added intelligence, and hence with diminished closeness, as is the way of demotic development—in such manner that their craft and thinking would reflect its features. In a more general way it follows that those similarities in culture, or activital coincidences, which have impressed the ethnologic students of the world (notably Powell and Brinton), are normal and inevitable in primitive culture and of diminishing prominence with cultural advancement.

The key aspect of the relationship between environment and body + mind is that it becomes less significant as intellectual development increases. If we look at it in a sequence, the relationship starts in the animal kingdom with organisms that adapt to their environment through physiological processes, and it culminates in enlightened humans where the mind shapes the environment through complete mastery over nature. In this defined sequence, various primitive tribes and more advanced societies can be arranged according to their mental abilities or cultural status; this arrangement will inversely indicate how closely the different tribal minds reflect their environments. As a result, the simple minds and skills of the Seri closely mirror their unique environment, perhaps more than any other, due to their very simplicity. Likewise, if a similarly simple group, accustomed to the area for generations, were brought to the same region, they would also reflect its physical characteristics in their work and thinking. Additionally, if the Seri were moved to another area with distinct physical traits, they would gradually adapt to the new environment—albeit with slightly more intelligence, and therefore less focus on its specifics, as is typical of cultural development—so that their crafting and thinking would mirror its features. More generally, it can be concluded that the cultural similarities or coincidences that have caught the attention of ethnologists worldwide (especially Powell and Brinton) are normal and unavoidable in primitive cultures, becoming less prominent as cultures advance.

Social Structure

Among the Seri, as among many other aboriginal tribes, the social relations are largely esoteric; moreover, in this, as in other savage groups, the social laws are not codified, nor even definitely formulated, but exist mainly as mere habits of action arising in instinct and sanctioned by usage; so that the tribesmen could not define the law even if they would. Accordingly the Seri socialry313 is to be ascertained only by patient observation of conduct under varying circumstances. Unfortunately, the opportunities for such observation have been too meager to warrant extended description, or anything more, indeed, than brief notice of salient points.

Among the Seri, like many other indigenous tribes, social relationships are mostly unwritten and instinctual. In this and other tribal groups, the social rules aren’t codified or clearly outlined; they mainly exist as habits formed through instinct and reinforced by tradition. As a result, the tribe members couldn’t explain the laws even if they wanted to. Therefore, understanding the Seri social structure313 can only be done through careful observation of behavior in different situations. Unfortunately, there have been too few opportunities for such observations to provide an extensive description or anything more than a brief overview of key points.

CLANS AND TOTEMS

The most noticeable social fact revealed about the Seri rancherias is the prominence of the females, especially the elderwomen, in the management of everyday affairs. The matrons erect the jacales without help from men or boys; they carry the meager belongings of the family and dispose them about the habitation in conformity with general custom and immediate convenience; and after the household is prepared, the men approach and range themselves about, apparently in a definite 270* order, the matron’s eldest brother coming first, the younger brothers next, and finally the husband, who squats in, or outside of, the open end of the bower. According to Mashém’s iterated explanations, which were corroborated by several elderwomen (notably the clanmother known to the Mexicans as Juana Maria) and verified by observation of the family movements, the house and its contents belong exclusively to the matron, though her brothers are entitled to places within it whenever they wish; while the husband has neither title nor fixed place, “because he belongs to another house”—though, as a matter of fact, he is frequently at or in the hut of his spouse, where he normally occupies the outermost place in the group and acts as a sort of outer guard or sentinel. Conformably to their proprietary position, the matrons have chief, if not sole, voice in extending and removing the rancheria; and such questions as that of the placement of a new jacal are discussed animatedly among them and finally decided by the dictum of the eldest in the group. The importance of the function thus exercised by the women has long been noted at Costa Rica and other points on the Seri frontier, for the rancherias are located and the initial jacal erected commonly by a solitary matron, sometimes by two or three aged dames; around this nucleus other matrons and their children gather in the course of a day or two; while it is usually three or four days, and sometimes a week, before the brothers and husbands skulk singly or in small bands into the new rancheria.

The most noticeable social fact about the Seri rancherias is the prominent role of women, especially older women, in managing daily affairs. The matriarchs build the jacales without help from men or boys; they carry the family's few belongings and arrange them in the home according to common custom and immediate needs. After the household is set up, the men come to gather around, seemingly in a specific order: the matron’s eldest brother comes first, then the younger brothers, and finally the husband, who sits inside or outside the open end of the bower. According to Mashém’s repeated explanations, confirmed by several elder women (notably the clan mother known to the Mexicans as Juana Maria) and observed during family activities, the house and its contents belong exclusively to the matron, although her brothers can enter whenever they wish. The husband has neither ownership nor a designated space, "because he belongs to another house," even though he often spends time in his wife's hut, usually taking the outermost spot in the group and acting as a sort of guard. Reflecting their ownership, the matrons have the primary, if not exclusive, say in establishing and removing the rancheria; decisions about placing a new jacal are actively discussed among them and ultimately decided by the eldest woman in the group. The significant role played by women has long been recognized in Costa Rica and other areas along the Seri frontier, as the rancherias are typically founded and the first jacal is constructed by a lone matron, sometimes with the help of two or three older women. Around this initial setup, other matriarchs and their children gather over a day or two, while it usually takes three or four days, or sometimes a week, for the brothers and husbands to join in small groups or individually.

Quite similar is the regimentation of the family groups as indicated by the correlative privileges and duties as to placement, as well as the reciprocal rights of command and the requirements of obedience. Ordinarily (especially when the men are not about) the elderwoman of the jacal exercises unlimited privileges as to placement of both persons and property, locating the ahst, the bedding, the fire (if any), and other possessions at will, and assigning positions to the members of her family, the nubile girls receiving especial attention; she is also the arbiter of disputes, the distributor of food, etc.; but in case of tumult, especially when children from other jacales are present, she may invoke the authority of the clanmother, whose powers in the rancheria are analogous to those of the younger matrons in their own jacales. Even when the men are present they take little part in the regulation of personal conduct, but tacitly accept the decision of matron or clanmother; yet in emergencies any of the women are ready to appeal for aid in the execution of their will to a brother (preferably the elder brother) of the family, or, if need be great, to the brothers of the clanmother. So far as was observed, and so far as could be ascertained through informants, these appeals are always for executive and never for legislative or judicative cooperation; but various general facts indicate that in times of stress—in the heat of the chase, in the warpath-craze, etc.—the men bestir themselves into the initiative, while the women drop into an inferior legislative place. As an illustration of the ordination in somewhat 271* unusual circumstances, it may be noted that when the “Seri belle” (Candelaria) refused to pose for a photograph she was supported by the clanmother (Juana Maria) until the latter was placated by presents; and that when the belle refused to obey the mother’s command—to the vociferous scandal of the entire group—Juana Maria appealed to Señor Encinas, as the conqueror of the tribe and hence as the virtual head of both rancho and rancheria. And when a younger Seri maiden (plate XXV) similarly refused to pose, and in like manner disobeyed her mother (again to the general disgust), the latter appealed to Mashém; when he, after first exacting additional presents for both girl and mother and a double amount for himself, put hands on the recalcitrant demoiselle and forced her into the pose required, despite the shrinking and tremulous terror perceptible even in the picture.

The organization of family groups is quite similar, as shown by the related privileges and responsibilities regarding placements, as well as the mutual rights of authority and the need for obedience. Usually, when the men are not around, the elder woman of the household has complete control over the arrangement of people and belongings, deciding where to place the main post, bedding, fire (if there is one), and other possessions as she likes. She assigns positions to her family members, paying special attention to the young women. She also settles disputes and distributes food, among other duties. However, if there is chaos, especially when children from other households are around, she can call upon the clan mother’s authority, whose influence in the community is similar to that of younger women in their own homes. Even when men are present, they typically play little role in managing personal conduct and silently accept the decisions of the matron or clan mother. Yet, in emergencies, any of the women can seek help from a brother (ideally the older brother) in the family or, if the situation is serious, from the clan mother's brothers. From what was observed and what informants shared, these requests are always for help in carrying out decisions, never for creating laws or resolving disputes. Various general facts suggest that in stressful times—like during a hunt or in the midst of war—the men take the initiative, while the women find themselves in a lesser legislative role. For example, when the "Seri belle" (Candelaria) refused to pose for a photograph, she was backed by the clan mother (Juana Maria) until the latter was appeased with gifts. When the belle ignored her mother’s command—leading to the loud disapproval of everyone—Juana Maria turned to Señor Encinas, as the conqueror of the tribe and the de facto head of both the ranch and the community. Similarly, when another younger Seri maiden (plate XXV) refused to pose and disobeyed her mother (again causing widespread annoyance), the mother sought help from Mashém; he then demanded additional gifts for both the girl and her mother, as well as a larger fee for himself, before physically forcing the reluctant young woman into the required pose, despite the visible fear captured in the photograph.

Commonly the regimentation of family, clan, and larger group appears to be indicated approximately by the placement assumed spontaneously in the idle lounging of peace and plenty. A typical placement of a small group is illustrated in plate XIV. Here the family are assembled outside the jacal, but in the relative positions which would be assumed within. The matron (a Red Pelican woman) squats in easy reach of her few and squalid possessions; on her left, i. e., in the group-background and place of honor, sits the elderwoman of the rancheria (a Turtle); then comes the daughter of the family, followed by two girl-child guests of the group, the three occupying positions pertaining to chiefs or elder brothers or, in their absence, to daughters; opposite the matron sits a younger brother,314 whose wife is a Turtle woman (daughter of the dame in the place of honor) and matron of another jacal. A few feet behind this brother (just outside the limits of the photograph reproduced, though shown on the duplicate negative) squats the husband, with his side to the group and face toward the direction of natural approach; while the place belonging to the sons of the family on the matron’s right is temporarily occupied by a White Pelican girl, together with a dog, notable in the local pack for largely imported blood and correspondingly docile disposition. The place for the babe, were there one in the family, would be on the heap of odds and ends behind the matron. As in this group so in most others, the place of the sons is vacant; for the boys are at once the most restless and the most lawless members of the tribe—indeed, the striplings seem often to ignore the maternal injunctions and even to evade the rarely uttered avuncular orders, so that their movements are practically free, except in so far as they are themselves regimented or graded by strength and fleetness and success in hunting.

Typically, the organization of family, clan, and larger community seems to be reflected in the casual seating arrangements during peaceful and plentiful times. A common arrangement for a small group is shown in plate XIV. Here, the family is gathered outside the jacal, positioned as they would be inside. The matron (a Red Pelican woman) squats within easy reach of her few worn possessions; to her left, in a position of honor, sits the elder woman of the rancheria (a Turtle); next is the family’s daughter, followed by two young girl guests, occupying spots that would belong to chiefs or elder brothers, or in their absence, to daughters. Facing the matron is a younger brother, 314, whose wife is a Turtle woman (the daughter of the woman in the honored position) and matron of another jacal. A few feet behind this brother (just outside the limits of the photograph reproduced, though visible on the duplicate negative) is the husband, seated with his side to the group and looking toward the direction of approach; meanwhile, the space for the sons of the family on the matron’s right is temporarily filled by a White Pelican girl, along with a dog known in the local pack for its mixed lineage and gentle nature. If there were a baby in the family, they would be placed in the heap of odds and ends behind the matron. As in this group, in most others, the sons' spots remain empty; the boys are often the most restless and unruly members of the tribe—indeed, the young ones frequently seem to ignore maternal requests and even evade infrequent uncle’s commands, so their movements are quite free, unless restricted by their own strength, speed, and success in hunting.

The raison d’être of the proprietorship and regimentation reflected in the everyday customs is satisfactorily indicated by that totemic feature of the social organization revealed in the face-painting described in 272* earlier paragraphs (pp. 164*-169*); these symbols evidently represent an exclusively maternal organization into clans consecrated to zoic tutelaries. The tutelaries, or totems, together with the clan names and all personal designations connected with the totems, are highly esoteric, and were not ascertained save in the few cases mentioned above.315

The purpose of the ownership and structure reflected in daily customs is clearly shown by the significant aspect of the social organization described in the face-painting mentioned in 272* earlier (pp. 164*-169*); these symbols clearly indicate a purely maternal organization into clans dedicated to animal spirits. The spirits, or totems, along with the clan names and any personal titles related to the totems, are very specialized and were known only in the few cases mentioned above.315

It should be observed that, the identification of kindred by the alien observer is difficult and somewhat uncertain, since the relationships recognized in Seri socialry are not equivalent to those customary among Caucasians. It was found especially difficult to identify the husband of the jacal, partly because he is commonly incongruously younger (and hence relatively smaller) than the mistress, and partly because of the undignified position of outer guard into which he is forced by the tribal etiquette. Moreover, his connection with the house is veiled by the absence of authority over both children and domestic affairs, though he exercises such authority freely (within the customary limits) in the jacales of his female relatives. There is, indeed, some question as to the clear recognition of paternity; certainly the females have no term for “my father”, i. e., the term is the same as that for “my mother”, em, though the males distinguish the maternal ancestor by a suffixed syllable (e=“my father”; e-ta or it-tah=“my mother”), which seems to be a magnificative or an intensificative element. It is noteworthy that the kinship terminology is strikingly meager; also that while the records suggest various significant points, the material is hardly rich enough to warrant complete synthesis of the consanguineal system.

It should be noted that identifying relatives through the eyes of an outsider can be challenging and somewhat uncertain, as the relationships recognized in Seri society don’t match those typical among Caucasians. It was particularly hard to identify the husband of the jacal, partly because he is often noticeably younger (and thus smaller) than the wife, and partly due to the undignified role of outer guard that tribal customs impose on him. Furthermore, his connection to the household is obscured by his lack of authority over both the children and household matters, although he does exercise such authority freely (within customary limits) in the jacales of his female relatives. In fact, there’s some question about the clear acknowledgment of paternity; certainly, the females have no specific term for “my father”; instead, they use the same term as for “my mother,” em, while the males differentiate the maternal ancestor with a suffixed syllable (e=“my father”; e-ta or it-tah=“my mother”), which seems to be an enhancing or intensifying element. It’s noteworthy that the kinship terminology is unusually sparse; additionally, while the records suggest various significant points, the material is barely comprehensive enough to support a complete synthesis of the kinship system.

While the burden of the more permanent property pertains to the women, there is a decided differentiation of labor with a concomitant vesting of certain property in the warriors—the distinctively masculine chattels comprising arrows, quivers, bows, turtle-harpoons, etc. There are indications that the balsas, too, are regarded as masculine property. The impermanent possessions—water, food, etc.—seem to be the common property of men, women, and children, except in so far as the right is regulated by regimentation; for the privileges of eating and drinking are enjoyed in the order of seniority. In the reckoning of seniority, the chief (who is commonly such in virtue of his position as nominal elder brother of a prolific dame) ranks first, and is followed by other warriors in an order affected in an undetermined way by conjugal relations as well as by their prowess or sagacity (the equivalents of age in primitive philosophy) down to an undetermined point—apparently fixed by puberty; then comes the clanmother, followed by her daughters in the order of nominal age, which is affected by the status of spouses and the number of living offspring; finally come the children, practically in the order of their strength (which also is deemed an equivalent of age), though the girls—especially those 273* approaching nubility—receive some advantage through the connivance of the matrons. To a considerable extent in the matter of sustentation, and to a dominant degree in the matter of appareling, the distribution of values is affected by a highly significant (though by no means peculiar) humanitarian notion of inherent individual rights—i. e., every member of the family or clan is entitled to necessary food and raiment, and it is the duty of every other person to see that the need is supplied. The stress of this duty is graded partly by proximity (so that, other things equal, it begins with the nearest person), but chiefly by standing and responsibility in the group (which again are reckoned as equivalents of age), whereby it becomes the business of the first at the feast to see that enough is left to supply all below him; and this duty passes down the line in such wise as to protect the interests of the helpless infant, and even of the tribal good-for-naught or hanger-on, who may gather crumbs and lick bones within limits fixed by the tribal consensus. Beyond these limits lies outlawry; and this status arises and passes into the tribal recognition in various ways: Kolusio was outlawed for consociating with aliens, and Mashém narrowly missed the same fate at several stages of his career; the would-be grooms who fail in their moral tests are ostracized and at least semioutlawed, and range about like rogue elephants, approved targets for any arrow, until they perish through the multiplied risks of solitude, or until some brilliant opportunity for display of prowess or generosity brings reinstatement; deformed offspring are classed as outside the human pale, even when the deformity is defined rather by occult associations than by physical features; abnormal and persistent indolence, too serious for scorn and ostracism to cure, may also outpass the tribal toleration; and, as indicated by Mashém’s guarded expressions and slight additional data, disease, mental aberration, and decrepitude are allied with indolence and deemed sufficient reason for excluding the persistently helpless from the tribal solidarity, and hence from recognized humanity—and the fate of the outlaw, even if nothing more severe than abandonment in the desert, is usually sure and swift. The entire customs of outlawry among the Seri are singularly like those of gregarious animals, including especially kine and swine in domestication. Now, studied equity in the distribution of necessaries might seem to be allied to thrift; but it is noteworthy that this is not so among the Seri, who take thought for one another but not for the morrow, who seem to have no conception of storage (save an incipient one in connection with water and the repulsive notion underlying the “second harvest”), and who habitually gorge everything in sight until their stomachs and gullets are packed—and then waste the fragments.

While women are mostly responsible for permanent property, there’s a clear division of labor that gives certain possessions to the warriors—specifically masculine items like arrows, quivers, bows, and turtle harpoons. It’s also suggested that balsas are considered masculine property. Temporary items—like water and food—seem to be shared among men, women, and children, unless this is limited by a hierarchical system; privileges for eating and drinking are granted based on seniority. In this system, the chief (often the elder brother of a prolific female) is first, followed by other warriors in a ranking influenced by marital ties and their skills or wisdom (which are seen as equivalents of age), down to a point that seems fixed by puberty. Next in line is the clanmother, followed by her daughters based on their nominal age, adjusted by their spouses' status and the number of living children. Lastly, the children come in roughly the order of their strength (also viewed as an equivalent of age), although the girls—particularly those nearing adulthood—receive some preferential treatment from the women. In terms of sustenance, and especially clothing, the distribution of resources is influenced by a significant (though not unique) idea of inherent individual rights—meaning each family or clan member has the right to necessary food and clothing, and it’s everyone else's duty to ensure those needs are met. The emphasis of this duty is determined partly by closeness (so the nearest individual is prioritized, all else being equal) and mainly by a person's status and responsibilities within the group (again considered as equivalents of age). Hence, those who are first at the feast must ensure that there’s enough for everyone below them, and this obligation trickles down to protect the interests of the helpless infants and even the tribe’s less useful members, who may scavenge for leftovers within the limits agreed upon by the tribe. Crossing these boundaries results in being considered an outlaw; this status can arise in various ways: Kolusio was outlawed for associating with outsiders, and Mashém narrowly avoided this fate multiple times; potential brides who fail moral tests are ostracized and end up like rogue elephants, openly targeted until they either die from the dangers of isolation or earn reinstatement through a show of skill or generosity. Deformed children are deemed outside the human community, even if their deformities are more about hidden associations than physical features. Chronic laziness, too severe for scorn to remedy, may push someone beyond the tribe’s tolerance. Additionally, disease, mental issues, and frailty are linked to laziness and can be justification for excluding the consistently helpless from tribal unity and, consequently, from recognized humanity; the fate of outlaws, even if it’s merely abandonment in the wilderness, is generally swift and certain. The customs surrounding outlawry among the Seri closely resemble those of social animals, particularly domesticated cattle and pigs. Now, while a fair distribution of essentials might seem to relate to thrift, it’s interesting to note that this isn’t the case with the Seri, who care for one another but not for the future. They appear to lack the concept of storage (except a budding understanding connected to water and the unappealing idea of “second harvest”) and tend to eat everything in sight until they’re completely stuffed—only to waste what’s left over.

The division of labor which affects proprietary interests is undoubtedly affected in turn by the militant habit of the tribe and by the frequent decimation of the warriors. In general, the adult males limit their work to fighting and fishing, with occasional excursions into the hunting 274* field; though by far the greater part of their time is spent in listless lounging or heedless slumber under the incidental guard of roaming youths and toiling women. The matrons are the real workers in the tribal hive; they are normally alert and active, passing from one simple task to another, gathering flotsam food along the beach or preparing edibles in the shadow of the jacal, with an eye ever on material possessions and children; they frequently join in hunting excursions of considerable extent; they are the chief manufacturers of apparel, utensils, and tools; and the scions of Castilian caballeros are not infrequently staggered at the sight of half a dozen Seri women “milling” a band of horses, and at intervals leaping on one to kill it with their hupfs. The masculine drones are the more petted and courted by reason of their fewness, for during a century or two, at least, the women have far outnumbered their consorts—a disproportion doubtless tending in some respects toward the disintegration of the clan system and, reciprocally, toward the firmer union of the tribe.

The division of labor that impacts property interests is definitely influenced by the tribe's aggressive nature and the regular reduction of warriors. Generally, adult males focus their efforts on fighting and fishing, occasionally venturing into hunting; however, most of their time is spent lounging around or napping while local youths and hardworking women keep watch. The women are the true workers in the tribal community; they are usually attentive and busy, moving from one simple task to another, gathering edible items along the beach or preparing food in the shade of the hut, always keeping an eye on their possessions and children. They often participate in extensive hunting trips; they are the primary makers of clothing, tools, and other items. The descendants of Castilian knights are often taken aback by the sight of several Seri women herding a group of horses and occasionally jumping on one to take it down with their clubs. The few men are more spoiled and sought after because for at least a century or two, women have greatly outnumbered their partners—a disparity that likely contributes to the weakening of the clan system and, in turn, to a stronger bond within the tribe.

One of the most noteworthy extensions of feminine functions among the Seri is toward shamanism. So far as could be ascertained from Mashém and the associated matrons at Costa Rica, it is such beldams as Juana Maria who concoct the arrow “poison”, compound both necromantic medicines and curative simples, cast spells on men and things, and even fabricate the stone arrowpoints and counterfeit cartridges; though unhappily the data are neither so full nor so decisive as desirable.316

One of the most noteworthy extensions of women's roles among the Seri is in shamanism. From what we gathered from Mashém and the local matriarchs in Costa Rica, it's women like Juana Maria who create the arrow "poison," mix both magical medicines and healing herbs, cast spells on people and objects, and even make the stone arrowheads and fake cartridges; however, unfortunately, the information we have is neither as complete nor as clear as we would like. 316

Conformably with their prominence in proprietary affairs, the Seri matrons seem to exercise formal legislative and judicative functions; for not only do they hold their own councils for the arrangement of the domestic business of the rancherias, but they also participate prominently in the tribal councils (as explained by Mashém), and play important rôles in carrying out the decisions of such councils—as when they cooperate with war parties as decoys, or journey across their bounding desert to spy out the land of the enemy.

According to their importance in property matters, the Seri matrons appear to have formal legislative and judicial roles; they not only hold their own councils to manage the domestic affairs of the rancherias but also take a significant role in the tribal councils (as explained by Mashém), and are vital in implementing the decisions of those councils—like when they collaborate with war parties as decoys or travel across their surrounding desert to gather intelligence on the enemy.


On the whole, it would appear that the clan organization of the Seri conforms closely with that characteristic of savagery elsewhere, especially among the American aborigines. The social unit is the maternal clan, organized in theory and faith in homage of a beast-god, though defined practically by the ocular consanguinity of birth from a common line of mothers; yet the several units are pretty definitely welded into a tribal aggregate by common feelings, identical interests, and conjugal ties. The most distinctive features brought out by the incomplete investigation are the somewhat exceptional manifestation of property-right in the females, the singularly strong sense of maternal relation, and the apparent prominence of females in shamanistic practices as well as in the tribal councils. 275*

Overall, it seems that the clan structure of the Seri closely resembles that found in other primitive societies, particularly among Native Americans. The basic social unit is the maternal clan, which is theoretically centered around a beast-god and practically defined by the visible family connection through a shared maternal line. However, these units are strongly connected within the tribe by shared feelings, common interests, and marital relationships. The most notable characteristics revealed by the incomplete research are the somewhat unique property rights held by women, the notably strong sense of maternal connection, and the prominent role of women in shamanistic practices as well as in tribal councils. 275*

CHIEFSHIP

The unformulated tribal laws of the Seri are intimately connected with leadership, which is, in turn, largely a reflection of personal characteristics; so that the tribal organization is about as variable as that of the practically autonomous herds of cattle ranging the Sonoran plains adjacent to Seriland. Indeed, just as the stock-clans enjoy a precedence on pasturage and at waterholes, determined by the valor and strength of the bulls by which they are led, so the Seri clans appear to be graded by the prowess of their masculine leaders, combined with the sortilegic success of the leaders’ consorts; while, just as the leadership of the cattle shifts from band to band as the years go by, according to the fairly equal hazard of natural selection, so the clan dynasties of the human group rise, flourish, and decline in an endless succession shaped by the chances of birth and survival under a capricious environment, by the fate of battles internecine and external, and by various other factors. The instability of the Seri organization is demonstrated by the tribal changes recorded in history, as well as by the vicissitudes within the memory of Señor Encinas and others. At the beginning of the records the Upanguayma were already exiled from Seriland proper and apparently suffering from raids of their collinguals; within a century the Guayma, also, were expatriated and nearly annihilated; then, in the early part of the present century, the Tepoka were extruded and (after a series of wars in active progress in Hardy’s time) forced far up the coast to one of the poorest habitats ever occupied by any folk. So, too, throughout the Encinas régime the internal dissensions continued whenever the clans were not combined against aliens; and the veteran pioneer has seen much intratribal strife, attended by the rise and passing of many chiefs, both acknowledged and pretended, and often exercising chiefly prerogatives two or three at a time. This instability grows largely out of the fact that the essential unit is the clan, and that the tribe is nothing more than a lax aggregation; and it is measurably explained by the crude customs accompanying the choice of leaders.

The unformulated tribal laws of the Seri are closely tied to leadership, which mainly reflects personal traits; thus, the tribal organization varies as much as the nearly independent herds of cattle roaming the Sonoran plains near Seriland. Just as the stock-clans have priority for grazing and at waterholes, based on the courage and strength of the bulls leading them, the Seri clans seem to be ranked by the abilities of their male leaders, along with the luck of the leaders' partners. Similarly, just as cattle leadership shifts from band to band over the years due to the fairly equal risks of natural selection, the human clan dynasties rise, thrive, and fall in an endless cycle influenced by the random chance of birth and survival in a fickle environment, the outcomes of both internal and external conflicts, and various other factors. The instability of the Seri organization is shown by the tribal changes recorded in history, as well as by the ups and downs within the memory of Señor Encinas and others. At the start of the records, the Upanguayma were already banished from Seriland and seemingly suffering from raids by their neighbors; within a century, the Guayma were also exiled and nearly wiped out; then, in the early part of this century, the Tepoka were forced out and (after a series of ongoing wars during Hardy’s time) pushed far up the coast to one of the most barren areas ever occupied by any group. Throughout the Encinas administration, internal conflicts persisted whenever the clans weren’t united against outsiders; and the seasoned pioneer has witnessed significant intratribal strife, marked by the rise and fall of many chiefs, both recognized and self-proclaimed, often exercising leadership roles simultaneously. This instability stems largely from the fact that the clan is the essential unit and the tribe is merely a loose collection; it is also somewhat explained by the primitive customs surrounding the selection of leaders.

As already noted, the clan organization is maternal, and the clanmother is the central figure of the group; but the executive power resides in her brothers in the order of seniority—i. e., while the personal arrangement of the group is maternal, the appellate administration is fraternal. So far as could be ascertained, the form of government is clearly discriminable from that commonly styled avuncular; for, in the first place, the minor administration accompanying the control of property invests the elderwomen with exceptional legislative and judicative powers, while, in the second place, there are no old men (by reason of the militant habit), so that the reverence for age so assiduously cultivated in primitive life extends to matrons much more than to men. 276* Classed with respect to major administration, therefore, the clan may be regarded as an informal adelphiarchy (ἀδελφὁς and ἄρχος) or adelphocracy (αδελφὁς and κρατὁς). It has none of the elements of the patriarchy, since male lineage is not recognized, and can not be classed as a matriarchy, since the clanmother is administratively subordinate to her brothers; while the avuncular functions are apparently inchoate and indirect, i. e., exercised only through or in conjunction with the clanmother. In short, the clan is ordinated or regimented in ostensible accordance with physical power, though the real faculty is confused (after the fashion of primitive thinking generally) with mystical faculties, imputed largely on magical grounds but partly on grounds of age-reverence, etc. Now, when two or more clans combine, the basis on which the common chiefship is determined is similar to that determining the clan leadership; at the outset three factors enter, viz., (1) the seniority of the clans in the accepted tribal mythology, (2) the prowess of the respective clan leaders (always weighed in conjunction with the shamanistic potency of their consorts), and (3) the numerical strength of the respective clans; but practically, so far as can be judged from all available information, the choice really reflects physical force, since in case of doubt the strongest and bravest man becomes the eldest by virtue of his strength and bravery, while the strongest clan finds fair ground for claiming seniority in the very fact of its strength. Naturally disputes arise in the adjustment of the several relations; and in the actual analysis in council, the dispute is commonly reduced to a contest between gods and men, i. e., between the claims for mystical and magical potencies on the one hand and the claims of brawn and bone on the other hand, so that strength wins, unless omens or prodigies turn the scale—which happens often enough to keep the subjective and the objective elements in fairly equal balance. Sometimes the contests are quickly settled; again they last for months, during which the tribe struggles under its weight of Cerberus heads; and repeatedly the disputes have ended in the annihilation of clans, or even in the tribal fissions attested by the recorded and traditional history of the Serian family.

As already mentioned, the clan organization is matrilineal, and the clan mother is the central figure of the group; however, the actual power lies with her brothers, in order of seniority. This means that while the personal structure of the group is matriarchal, the higher-level management is fraternal. From what can be determined, the form of government is distinct from what's typically called avuncular; primarily, the minor administration that comes with controlling property gives the elder women exceptional legislative and judicial powers, and secondly, there are no older men (due to military customs), so the respect for age that is so carefully nurtured in primitive societies is directed more toward women than men. 276* When it comes to major administration, we can think of the clan as an informal adelphiarchy (ἀδελφὁς and ἄρχος) or adelphocracy (αδελφὁς and κρατὁς). It lacks elements of patriarchy, as male lineage is not recognized, and it cannot be classified as a matriarchy, because the clan mother is administratively subordinate to her brothers. Meanwhile, the avuncular roles seem to be undeveloped and indirect, exercised only through or alongside the clan mother. Essentially, the clan is organized according to apparent physical power, although the actual authority is often mixed up—typical of primitive thought—with mystical qualities, largely attributed to magical beliefs but also linked to respect for age, among other things. When two or more clans come together, the basis for determining the common leadership resembles how clan leadership is established; initially, three factors come into play: (1) the seniority of the clans in accepted tribal mythology, (2) the strength of the respective clan leaders (always considered along with the shamanistic abilities of their partners), and (3) the population size of the respective clans. However, practically speaking, it appears from all available information that the choice reflects physical strength, since in cases of uncertainty, the strongest and bravest individual becomes the leader by virtue of their strength and courage, while the most powerful clan has a fair claim to seniority simply because of its strength. Naturally, disputes arise over the adjustment of these relationships, and in actual discussions in council, the conflict usually boils down to a battle between gods and men, meaning between claims of mystical and magical powers on one side and the claims of brute strength on the other, where strength typically prevails unless omens or prodigies tip the balance—which occurs often enough to keep the subjective and objective elements fairly even. Sometimes these disputes are resolved quickly; other times they drag on for months, during which the tribe struggles under many conflicting issues; repeatedly, disputes have led to the destruction of clans or even to the tribal splits recorded in the history of the Serian family.

The chiefship once determined, the leader bends all energies toward maintaining the position by which he is dignified and his clan exalted. He recognizes his responsibility for the welfare of the tribe—not only for success in battle and food-getting, but for stilling storms at sea, protecting the aguajes from the drought-demons, and securing all other benefits, both physical and magical; he must be aggressive yet cautious on the warpath, fleet and enduring in retreat, indomitable in the chase, bold but not reckless on the balsa, and above all panoplied and favored by the shadowy potencies of air and earth and waters; he must be the local and lowly Admirable Crichton, and his never-neglected watchword must be noblesse oblige. His practical devices for maintaining prestige are many and diverse; it is commonly the chief who carries the symbolic 277* weapon, the counterfeit cartridge, the imitation machete, or other charm against alien power; it is usually he who wears the white man’s hat or random garment in lieu of the deer or lion mask of earlier days; and during recent years his most-prized fetish, and one which practically insures the support of his fellows, is a written certificate of his chiefship from Señor Encinas, or, still better, from El Gobernador at Hermosillo. Yet he is a throneless and even homeless potentate, sojourning, like the rest of his fellows, in such jacales as his two or three or four wives may erect, wandering with season and sisterly whim, chased often by rumors of invasion or by fearsome dreams, and restrained by convention even from chiding his own children in his wives’ jacales save through the intercession of female relatives.

Once the leadership is established, the leader focuses all their energy on maintaining their respected position and elevating their clan. They understand their duty to ensure the tribe's well-being—not just success in battles and gathering food, but also calming storms at sea, protecting the aguajes from drought, and securing other benefits, both physical and magical. They must be assertive yet careful in combat, swift and enduring in retreat, relentless in pursuit, courageous but not reckless on the balsa, and above all, equipped and favored by the mysterious powers of air, earth, and water. They must be the local and humble version of an Admirable Crichton, with the ever-important motto of noblesse oblige. To maintain their status, they use various practical strategies; it's typically the chief who carries the symbolic weapon, the fake cartridge, the replica machete, or other charms against foreign threats. It's usually the chief who dons the white man's hat or miscellaneous clothing instead of the deer or lion masks of the past. In recent times, their most valued possession—which almost guarantees support from their peers—is a written certificate of their leadership from Señor Encinas, or even better, from El Gobernador in Hermosillo. Yet, they are a powerful figure without a throne or even a true home, residing, like everyone else, in the small huts built by their two, three, or four wives. They roam according to the seasons and the whims of their sisters, often pursued by rumors of invasion or terrifying dreams, and are constrained by convention from scolding their own children in their wives’ huts unless through the intercession of female relatives.

In 1894 the head chief was reported to be on Tiburon; the putative chief of the rancheria at Costa Rica was the taciturn giant known as El Mudo (plate XIX); while Mashém (or Juan Estorga) was the head of one of the Pelican clans.

In 1894, the main chief was said to be on Tiburon; the supposed chief of the rancheria at Costa Rica was the quiet giant known as El Mudo (plate XIX); while Mashém (or Juan Estorga) led one of the Pelican clans.

ADOPTION

One of the more important factors in demotic development among primitive peoples (probably second only to interclan marriage in extending sympathy and unifying law) is adoption; and special efforts were made to obtain data relating to the subject. Direct inquiries were futile, the responses indicating that the entire subject is foreign to the thought of the tribe; but three sporadic and measurably incongruous examples of quasi adoption are worthy of record.

One of the key factors in the development of everyday language among early societies (likely second only to interclan marriage in promoting empathy and creating a unified law) is adoption; special efforts were made to gather information on this topic. Direct inquiries were unproductive, as the responses showed that the subject is unfamiliar to the tribe’s thinking; however, three sporadic and noticeably inconsistent examples of informal adoption are worth noting.

The most specific case is that of Lieutenant Hardy, who visited Isla Tiburon in 1826, and was fortunate in gaining the confidence of the tribe through successful medical treatment of the wife of the chief. On his second landing he was greeted with many expressions of gratitude, which were especially exuberant on the part of the daughter of the family (always a personage in Seri custom), who insisted on painting his face. He specifies:

The most specific case is that of Lieutenant Hardy, who visited Isla Tiburon in 1826 and was lucky enough to gain the trust of the tribe by successfully treating the chief's wife. When he arrived for the second time, he was met with a lot of gratitude, especially from the daughter of the family (a significant person in Seri culture), who insisted on painting his face. He notes:

Not wishing to deny her the indulgence of this innocent frolic, I quietly suffered her to proceed. She mixed up part of a cake of blue color, which resembles ultramarine (and of which I have a specimen), in a small shell; in another, a white color, obtained by ground talc, and in a third was mixed a color obtained from the red flint-stone of the class which I before stated was to be found on Seal Island, and resembled cinnabar. With the assistance of a pointed stick the tender artist formed perpendicular narrow stripes down my cheeks and nose, at such distances apart as to admit of an equally narrow white line between them. With equal delicacy and skill the tops and bottoms of the white lines were finished off with a white spot. If the cartilage of my nose at the nostrils had been perforated so as to admit a small, round, white bone, five inches in length, tapering off at both ends and rigged something like a cross-jack yard, I might have been mistaken for a native of the island. As soon as the operation was finished, the whole party set up a roar of merry laughter, and called me “Hermano, Capitan Tiburow,” being the very limited extent of their knowledge of Spanish.317

I didn't want to stop her from having this innocent fun, so I quietly let her keep going. She mixed a portion of a blue cake, which looked like ultramarine (and I have a sample), in a small shell; in another shell, she had a white color made from ground talc, and in a third, she mixed a color from the red flint stone I had mentioned earlier that could be found on Seal Island, resembling cinnabar. Using a pointed stick, the delicate artist painted narrow vertical stripes on my cheeks and nose, spaced just apart enough to leave a thin white line between them. With the same skill, she topped and bottomed the white lines with a white dot. If the cartilage in my nostrils had been pierced to hold a small, round, white bone five inches long, tapering at both ends and rigged like a cross-jack yard, I could have passed for a native of the island. As soon as she finished, everyone burst into laughter, calling me “Hermano, Capitan Tiburow,” which was as far as their Spanish knowledge went.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

278*

278*

While the lieutenant attached no significance to the painting, the procedure would seem to have been a ceremonial adoption, such as might, for example, be used in connection with a confederate clan. The description of the painting is sufficiently explicit to identify the totem with that of the Turtle clan, represented by the clanmother and the daughter of the clan at Costa Rica in 1894 (plates XVIII and XXIV); but it is noteworthy that the salutation with which the ceremony terminated, and which may be rendered “Captain-Brother of the Sharks”, would seem to identify the totem with the shark rather than the turtle.318

While the lieutenant didn’t think much of the painting, the process seems to have been a formal adoption, similar to what might happen with a confederate clan. The painting's description is clear enough to link the totem to the Turtle clan, represented by the clan mother and the daughter of the clan in Costa Rica in 1894 (plates XVIII and XXIV); however, it's interesting that the closing salutation of the ceremony, which translates to “Captain-Brother of the Sharks,” appears to suggest the totem is more closely associated with the shark instead of the turtle.318

The second case of adoption (if so it may be styled) was that of Señor Encinas, after his bloodiest battle, in which nearly all of the Seri warriors were left on the field. In this case there was no ceremony, or at least none remembered by the beneficiary; he was merely informed by a delegation of aged dames that thenceforth he would be regarded as a stronger and more invulnerable chief (shaman) than any member of the tribe, and hence as the tribal leader.

The second case of adoption (if that's what you want to call it) was that of Señor Encinas, after his bloodiest battle, in which nearly all the Seri warriors were left on the battlefield. In this case, there was no ceremony, or at least none that the beneficiary remembered; he was simply told by a group of elderly women that from then on, he would be seen as a stronger and more invulnerable chief (shaman) than any tribe member, and therefore as the tribal leader.

The third instance is still less definite, though it seems to be trustworthy. There is a widespread tradition throughout Sonora that in the course of a brush between a band of Papago hunters and a marauding bunch of Seri warriors in the mountains southeast of Cieneguilla twenty-five or thirty years ago, a Papago maiden was captured and carried off to Tiburon; and that for some years thereafter—i. e., until the Papago had taken ample blood-vengeance—the intertribal animosity was exceptionally bitter. No wholly satisfactory basis for the traditions could be found among the Papago, though some of the silences of the old men were suggestive; nor was the tradition fully credited by Señor Encinas, despite its deep lodgment in the minds of some of his yeomanry. When Mashém was interrogated on different occasions, he merely shook his head in stolid silence; but when the device was adopted of inquiring the number of Papago children brought into the tribe through this woman, he responded promptly with a snort of scorn, and followed this with the explanation that she never had children, and could not because she was an alien slave. The explanation was corroborated by clanmother Juana Maria and other matrons, with sundry expressions of contemptuous disapproval of the inquiry and scorn of the very idea that aliens could fructify within the tribe. Later, the ice being broken, Mashém intimated that the woman had recently died of old age and its consequences—doubtless as an outcast. On the whole, the direct testimony would seem to substantiate the tradition, and to supplement it with the short and simple annals of a spouseless and childless life (incredible of other tribes, but consistent 279* with the customs of the Seri), endured for many years and ending at last in unpitied death.

The third instance is still less clear, but it seems reliable. There’s a well-known story throughout Sonora that about twenty-five or thirty years ago, during a confrontation between a group of Papago hunters and a raiding party of Seri warriors in the mountains southeast of Cieneguilla, a Papago woman was taken and taken to Tiburon. For a few years after that—until the Papago had avenged themselves—the hostility between the tribes was especially intense. No completely convincing evidence for the stories could be found among the Papago, although some of the old men’s silences were telling; nor did Señor Encinas fully believe the tale, despite it being deeply held by some of his community. When Mashém was asked about it on different occasions, he simply shook his head in stony silence; but when someone asked how many Papago children were born to this woman, he scoffed and quickly explained that she never had children and couldn’t because she was a foreign slave. This was backed up by clanmother Juana Maria and other women, who expressed their contempt for the question and scorned the idea that outsiders could have children within the tribe. Later, after breaking the ice, Mashém mentioned that the woman had recently passed away from old age and related issues—likely as an outcast. Overall, the direct testimony seems to support the story and add to it with the brief and simple account of a life without a spouse and children (incredible for other tribes, but consistent with the customs of the Seri), lived for many years and ending in an unremarked death.

Collectively the cases seem to define a germ, rather than a mature custom, of adoption. In the first case a benefactor (by means regarded as magical) was formally inducted into the reigning family; in the second case the conquering hero (through what were again regarded as magical means) was less formally recognized and venerated, even worshiped, as an all-powerful shaman; while in the third case a representative of the doughtiest alien tribe was enslaved, probably with motives akin to those expressed in the carrying of chargeless guns, the making of imitation machetes, and other fetishistic devices. Except in the first instance there is no indication of consistent custom; but since the entire history of the tribe clearly contradicts regulated adoption of aliens (and indeed affords no other example), it must be inferred that any such custom is intratribal rather than intertribal.

Collectively, these cases seem to outline a basic idea, rather than an established custom, of adoption. In the first case, a benefactor was officially brought into the ruling family through what were considered magical means; in the second case, the victorious hero was recognized and even worshiped, though less formally, as a powerful shaman, again through what were seen as magical methods; while in the third case, a member of a strong foreign tribe was enslaved, likely for reasons similar to those behind the use of unarmed firearms, the creation of imitation machetes, and other fetishistic practices. Aside from the first instance, there’s no sign of a consistent custom; however, since the tribe's entire history clearly goes against regulated adoption of outsiders (and provides no other examples), it can be inferred that any such custom exists within the tribe rather than between tribes.

MARRIAGE

The most striking and significant social facts discovered among the Seri relate to marriage customs.

The most interesting and important social facts found among the Seri have to do with their marriage customs.

As noted repeatedly elsewhere, the tribal population is preponderantly feminine, so that polygyny naturally prevails; the number of wives reaches three or possibly four, averaging about two, though the younger warriors commonly have but one, and there are always a number of spouseless (widowed) dames but no single men of marriageable age. So far as could be ascertained, no special formalities attend the taking of supernumerary wives, who are usually widowed sisters of the first spouse; it seems to be practically a family affair, governed by considerations of convenience rather than established regulations—an irregularity combining with other facts to suggest that polygyny is incidental, and perhaps of comparatively recent origin.

As has been mentioned repeatedly elsewhere, the tribal population is mainly female, which naturally leads to polygyny; the number of wives can reach three or maybe four, averaging around two, although younger warriors typically have just one. There are always several widowed women without spouses, but no unmarried men of marriageable age. From what could be determined, there aren’t any special formalities involved in taking additional wives, who are usually widowed sisters of the first wife; it seems to be more of a family matter, based on convenience rather than set rules—this irregularity, along with other facts, suggests that polygyny is more of an occurrence and possibly a relatively recent development.

The primary mating of the Seri is attended by observances so elaborate as to show that marriage is one of the profoundest sacraments of the tribe, penetrating the innermost recesses of tribal thought, and interwoven with the essential fibers of tribal existence. Few if any other peoples devote such anxious care to their mating as do the Seri;319 and among no other known tribe or folk is the moral aspect of conjugal union so rigorously guarded by collective action and individual devotion.

The main mating ritual of the Seri involves such elaborate customs that it demonstrates marriage is one of the deepest sacraments of the tribe, touching on the core of their beliefs and woven into the very fabric of their existence. Few, if any, other groups put as much care into their mating rituals as the Seri; and among no other known tribe or community is the moral aspect of marital union so strictly upheld by both collective effort and personal commitment.

The initial movement toward formal marriage seems to be somewhat indefinite (or perhaps, rather, spontaneous); according to Mashém it may be made either by the prospective groom or else by his father, though not directly by the maiden or her kinswomen. In any event the prerequisites for the union are provisionally determined in the suitor’s family; these relate to the suitability of age, the propriety of 280* the clan relation, etc.; for no stripling may seriously contemplate matrimony until he has entered manhood (apparently corresponding with the warrior class), nor can he mate in his own totem, though all other clans of the tribe are apparently open to him; while the maiden must have passed (apparently by a considerable time) her puberty feast. In any event, too, the proposal is formally conveyed by the elderwoman of the suitor’s family to the maiden’s clanmother, when it is duly pondered, first by this dame and her daughter matrons; and later (if the proposal is entertained) it is deliberated and discussed at length by the matrons of the two clans involved, who commonly hold repeated councils for the purpose. At an undetermined stage and to an undetermined degree the maiden herself is consulted; certainly she holds the power of veto, ostensible if not actual. Pending the deliberations the maiden receives special consideration and enjoys various dignities; if circumstances favor, her kinswomen erect a jacal for her; and even if circumstances are adverse, she is outfitted with a pelican robe of six or eight pelts and other matronly requisites. When all parties concerned are eventually satisfied a probationary marriage is arranged, and the groom leaves his clan and attaches himself to that of the bride. Two essential conditions—one of material character and the other moral—are involved in this probationary union; in the first place, the groom must become the provider for, and the protector of, the entire family of the bride, including the dependent children and such cripples and invalids as may be tolerated by the tribe—i. e., he must display and exercise skill in turtle-fishing, strength in the chase, subtlety in warfare, and all other physical qualities of competent manhood. This relation, with the attendant obligations, holds for a year, i. e., a round of the seasons. During the same period the groom shares the jacal and sleeping robe provided for the prospective matron by her kinswomen, not as privileged spouse, but merely as a protecting companion; and throughout this probationary term he is compelled to maintain continence—i. e., he must display the most indubitable proofs of moral force. During this period the always dignified position occupied by the daughter of the family culminates; she is the observed of all observers, the subject of gossip among matrons and warriors alike, the recipient of frequent tokens from designing sisters with an eye to shares of her spouse’s spoils, and the receiver of material supplies measuring the competence of the would-be husband; through his energy she is enabled to dispense largess with lavish hand, and thus to dignify her clan and honor her spouse in the most effective way known to primitive life; and at the same time she enjoys the immeasurable moral stimulus of realizing that she is the arbiter of the fate of a man who becomes warrior or outcast at her bidding, and through him of the future of two clans—i. e., she is raised to a responsibility in both personal and tribal affairs which, albeit temporary, is hardly lower than that of the warrior-chief. In tribal theory the moral test measures 281* the character of the man; in very fact, it at the same time both measures and makes the character of the woman. Among other privileges bestowed on the bride during the probationary period are those of receiving the most intimate attentions from the clanfellows of the groom; and these are noteworthy as suggestions of a vestigial polyandry or adelphogamy. At the close of the year the probation ends in a feast provided by the probationer, who thereupon enters the bride’s jacal as a perpetual guest of unlimited personal privileges (subject to tribal custom); while the bride passes from a half-wanton heyday into the duller routine of matronly existence.

The initial move toward formal marriage appears to be a bit unclear (or maybe just spontaneous); according to Mashém, it can be initiated by the potential groom or his father, but not directly by the bride or her female relatives. In any case, the requirements for the union are initially set by the suitor’s family; these include age appropriateness, proper clan relations, etc.; a young man can't seriously consider marriage until he has reached adulthood (which seems to align with joining the warrior class), nor can he marry within his own totem, although he is free to pursue brides from other clans in the tribe; the bride, on the other hand, must have already celebrated her puberty feast for quite some time. Additionally, the proposal is formally communicated by the elder woman of the suitor’s family to the bride’s clan mother, who then carefully considers it, first with her daughter and other senior women; if the proposal is taken seriously, it is thoroughly discussed among the women of both clans, who typically hold several meetings for this purpose. At some point, the bride herself is consulted to an unspecified degree; she clearly has the authority to reject the proposal, whether that’s apparent or not. While the discussions are ongoing, the bride receives special treatment and various privileges; if things are favorable, her female relatives will build her a small house; and even if the situation is not great, she will be given a luxurious robe made from six or eight pelts and other necessary items for a married woman. Once all parties are satisfied, a trial marriage is set up, and the groom leaves his clan to join the bride’s. Two key conditions—one material and the other moral—are involved in this trial union; firstly, the groom must provide for and protect the entire family of the bride, which includes dependent children and any elderly or disabled relatives allowed by the tribe—meaning he must show skill in turtle-fishing, strength in hunting, cleverness in battle, and all other qualities expected of a capable man. This arrangement lasts for a year, covering a full cycle of seasons. During this time, the groom stays in the small house and shares the sleeping robe that the bride’s family provided for her, not as a privileged husband but simply as a protective companion; throughout this trial period, he is required to remain celibate—meaning he must prove his moral strength. During this phase, the well-respected position of the daughter in the family reaches its peak; she becomes the center of attention, the topic of discussion among women and warriors alike, receiving frequent gifts from sisters looking to benefit from her husband’s resources, and the items she gets reflect the potential of her future husband; through his efforts, she can show generosity and elevate her clan’s status while also honoring her partner in a way that is significant in their culture; at the same time, she experiences the powerful realization that she controls the fate of a man who can either become a respected warrior or an outcast because of her choices—and through him, the future of both clans—thus she takes on a responsibility in both personal and tribal matters that, while temporary, is nearly as significant as that of a warrior chief. In tribal belief, the moral test assesses a man's character; in reality, it simultaneously evaluates and shapes a woman's character. Other privileges for the bride during the trial period include receiving close attention from the groom's clan members; these interactions hint at a lingering form of polyandry or adelphogamy. At the end of the year, the trial concludes with a feast hosted by the groom, who then becomes a permanent guest in the bride’s home with unlimited personal privileges (within tribal customs); while the bride transitions from a lively period of youth into the more subdued routine of married life.

These details were elicited at Costa Rica in 1894 through methodical inquiries made in connection with the linguistic collection. This collection was made with the cooperation of Señor Alvemar-Leon as Spanish-English interpreter, together with Mashém and (commonly) the clanmother known as Juana Maria. Usually quite a group of Seri matrons with two or three warriors were gathered about, and to these Mashém frequently appealed for advice and verification, while they constantly expressed approval or disapproval of questions and replies, as gathered through Mashém’s words and mien, in such manner as to afford a fair index of their habitual thought—e. g., when the Seri vernacular for “twins” was obtained and the inquiry was extended (by normal association of ideas) to the term for “triplets”, Mashém collapsed into moody silence while the rest of the group decamped incontinently with horror-stricken countenances—thereby suggesting cautious subsequent inquiry, and the discovery that triplets are deemed evil monsters and their production a capital crime. It was in one of the earlier conferences that the first intimations concerning the unusual marital customs were incidentally brought out; the Caucasian interpreter and bystanders were diverted by the naive reference to the moral test, but their expressions were hastily checked lest the native informants might be startled and rendered secretive; then, during two later conferences, when Mashém and several matrons were freely participating in the proceedings, the line of inquiry was so turned as to touch on various aspects of the marriage custom and bring out all essential features; so that much confidence is reposed in the accuracy of the details.320 The confidence in the verity of the customs was such as not to be impaired seriously by the fact that no records of coincident moral tests were known in the voluminous literature of marriage and its concomitants; nor was it shaken by the still weightier fact that none of the experienced ethnologists to whom inquiries were addressed during ensuing months were acquainted with parallel customs—indeed the only shadow of corroboration thus obtained came in the form of references to the widespread requirement of continence in war and ceremonies, 282* and to an affectation of self-restraint for a moon on the part of Zuñi grooms noted by Frank Hamilton Cushing. Accordingly the facts were announced in a preliminary paper,321 and were shown to stand in such relation to the marital customs of other aboriginal tribes as practically to demonstrate their validity, and at the same time to locate the Seri customs on a lower plane of cultural development than any hitherto definitely recognized.

These details were gathered in Costa Rica in 1894 through systematic inquiries related to the linguistic collection. This collection was made with the help of Señor Alvemar-Leon as the Spanish-English interpreter, along with Mashém and the clan mother known as Juana Maria. A group of Seri women and two or three warriors usually gathered around, and Mashém often turned to them for advice and confirmation while they continuously showed their approval or disapproval of questions and answers, as interpreted through Mashém’s words and expressions. This provided a good insight into their usual thoughts— for example, when they found out the Seri word for “twins” and then asked about the term for “triplets,” Mashém fell silent while the rest of the group hurried away with shocked faces—this indicated the need for cautious follow-up inquiries, leading to the discovery that triplets are considered evil monsters and their birth is seen as a serious crime. In one of the earlier meetings, the first hints about their unusual marital customs came up incidentally; the Caucasian interpreter and bystanders were amused by the naive mention of the moral test, but they quickly kept their reactions in check to avoid startling the native informants and making them secretive. Later, during two more meetings where Mashém and several women were actively involved, the discussion shifted to various aspects of marriage customs and brought out all the essential features, allowing for significant confidence in the accuracy of those details. The trust in the authenticity of the customs was not seriously diminished by the fact that no records of concurrent moral tests were found in the extensive literature on marriage and its related topics; nor was it shaken by the even more significant fact that none of the experienced ethnologists consulted in the following months were aware of similar customs—indeed, the only hint of corroboration obtained came from references to the common requirement of self-restraint in wartime and ceremonies, and to self-control for a month observed among Zuñi grooms noted by Frank Hamilton Cushing. Thus, the facts were announced in a preliminary paper, and were shown to be related to the marital customs of other indigenous tribes in a way that practically proved their validity, while also indicating that the Seri customs are on a lower level of cultural development than any previously recognized.

Happily, subsequent researches have resulted in the discovery of records corroborative of the primitive customs observed by the Seri, and also of the assignment of serial place to these customs. The most specific record is that of John Giles (or Gyles), who spent his youth as a captive among the northeastern Algonquian Indians (probably the Maliseet or some closely related Abnaki tribe), from August 2, 1689, to June 28, 1698. Referring to the marital customs of the tribe, he observed:

Happily, later research has led to the discovery of records that support the ancient customs practiced by the Seri, as well as their arrangement in a specific order. The most detailed record comes from John Giles (or Gyles), who spent his youth as a captive among the northeastern Algonquian Indians (likely the Maliseet or a closely related Abnaki tribe), from August 2, 1689, to June 28, 1698. Commenting on the marriage customs of the tribe, he noted:

If parents have a daughter marriageable, they seek a husband for her who is a good hunter. If she has been educated to make monoodah (Indian bags), birch dishes, to lace snowshoes, make Indian shoes, string wampum belts, sew birch canoes, and boil the kettle, she is esteemed a lady of fine accomplishments. If the man sought out for her husband have a gun and ammunition, a canoe, a spear, a hatchet, a monoodah, a crooked knife, looking-glass and paint, a pipe, tobacco, and knot-bowl to toss a kind of dice in, he is accounted a gentleman of a plentiful fortune. Whatever the new married man procures the first year belongs to his wife’s parents. If the young pair have a child within a year and nine months, they are thought to be very forward and libidinous persons.322

When parents have a daughter who's ready to get married, they look for a husband who is a good hunter. If she has learned to make monoodah (Indian bags), birch bark dishes, lace snowshoes, create Indian shoes, string wampum belts, sew birch bark canoes, and boil water, she is considered a skilled woman. If the man chosen to be her husband has a gun and ammo, a canoe, a spear, a hatchet, a monoodah, a crooked knife, a mirror and paint, a pipe, tobacco, and a knot-bowl for playing a dice game, he is seen as a gentleman with good prospects. Anything the newlywed man earns in his first year belongs to his wife's parents. If the young couple has a child within a year and nine months, they are considered very impulsive and lustful individuals.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

This record is of peculiar interest in that it definitely specifies a custom corresponding with the material test of the Seri, and unmistakably implies the existence, at least in vestigial or sentimental form, of a custom corresponding with the moral test of Seriland; and it is particularly noteworthy as coming from a remote tribe occupying a distant part of the continent.

This record is particularly interesting because it clearly outlines a custom that aligns with the material test of the Seri, and it strongly suggests the existence, at least in a limited or emotional way, of a custom that corresponds with the moral test of Seriland. It's especially remarkable as it comes from a remote tribe located in a far-off part of the continent.

A somewhat less specific corroboration is found in Lawson’s account of the Carolina tribes. He observes:

A somewhat less specific confirmation is found in Lawson’s account of the Carolina tribes. He notes:

When any young Indian has a mind for such a girl to his wife, he, or some one for him, goes to the young woman’s parents, if living; if not, to her nearest relations, where they make offers of the match betwixt the couple. The relations reply, they will consider of it; which serves for a sufficient answer, till there be a second meeting about the marriage, which is generally brought into debate before all the relations, that are old people, on both sides, and sometimes the king, with all his great men, give their opinions therein. If it be agreed on, and the young woman approve thereof, for these savages never give their children in marriage without their own consent, the man pays so much for his wife; and the handsomer she is the greater price she bears. Now, it often happens that the man has not so much of their money ready as he is to pay for his wife; but if they know him to be a good hunter, and that he can raise the sum agreed for, in some few moons, or any little 283* time they agree, she shall go along with him as betrothed, but he is not to have any knowledge of her till the utmost payment is discharged; all which is punctually observed. Thus they lie together under one covering for several months, and the woman remains the same as she was when she first came to him.323

When a young Indian wants to marry a girl, he or a representative goes to speak with her parents, if they are alive; if not, then to her closest relatives. They discuss the potential match. The relatives say they will think about it, which is an acceptable response until a follow-up meeting about the marriage takes place. This meeting usually includes discussions among the older relatives from both families, and sometimes the king and his advisors also weigh in. If everyone agrees and the young woman gives her consent—since parents never arrange marriages without their children’s approval—the man pays a bride price, which varies depending on her attractiveness. Often, the man may not have all the money he needs to pay for his bride right away, but if the family knows he is a skilled hunter and can come up with the agreed amount within a few months, she will be considered engaged to him. However, he cannot have any intimate relations with her until he has fully paid the agreed amount, and this rule is strictly enforced. They live together under the same roof for several months, but the woman remains in the same status as when she first came to him.

This record also is peculiarly pertinent, partly in that it practically corroborates the Seri testimony, but chiefly in that it indicates definite transition toward a higher culture-plane in which the primitive material test is at least partially replaced by a commutation in goods or their equivalents.

This record is also particularly relevant, partly because it practically supports the Seri testimony, but mainly because it shows a clear shift towards a higher level of culture where the basic material test is at least partially replaced by a trade in goods or their equivalents.


On reducing the marital customs of the Seri to conventional terms, the more prominent features are found to be (1) strict clan exogamy and (2) absolute tribal endogamy, together with (3) theoretical or constructive monogamy, coupled with (4) vague traces of polyandry, and (5) an apparently superficial polygyny, as well as (6) total absence of purchase or capture of either spouse.

On simplifying the marriage customs of the Seri into everyday language, the main features include (1) strict clan exogamy, (2) complete tribal endogamy, (3) theoretical or constructive monogamy, (4) slight indications of polyandry, (5) what seems to be superficial polygyny, and (6) no practice of buying or capturing either partner.

On reviewing the customs in the light of their influence on the everyday life of the tribe, certain features stand out conspicuously: (1) Perhaps the most striking feature is the collective character of the function; for while the movement originates in personal inclination on the part of the suitor and is shaped by personal inclination on the part of the maiden, all manifestations of inclination are open and public (at least to the elders of the two clans involved), while the personal sentiments on both sides are completely subordinated to the public interests of clans and tribe as weighed and decided by the matronly lawgivers and adelphiarchal administratives. Thus neither man nor maid mates for thonself, but both love and move in the tribal interests and along the lines laid down by the tribal leaders. (2) As a corollary or a complement (according to the viewpoint) to the collectivity of the mating, the next most striking feature is the formal or legal aspect of the union; for the entire affair, from inception to consummation, is rigorously regulated by precedents and usages handed down from an immemorial past. Thus the roots of young affection are not destroyed but rather cultivated, though the burgeoning vine and the outreaching tendrils are trained to a social structure shaped in ages gone and kept in the olden form by unbroken tradition. (3) A collateral feature of the customs is the necessary reaction of the requirements on individual character of both groom and bride; for the would-be warrior-spouse is compelled to display high qualities of physical and moral manhood on pain of ostracism and outlawry, so that his passions of ambition and affection are at once stimulated to the highest degree, while the maiden’s pride of blood and possession and her sense of regnant responsibility are fostered to the utmost. The brief preliminary courtship and the long probationary mating mark an era of intensification in two lives at their most impressionable stage; and if there be 284* aught in the simple yet puissant law of conjugal conation—that law whose motive underlies the world’s song and story and all the pulsing progress of mankind as the inspiration of most men’s work and most women’s hopes—the vital intensity of this era passes down the line of blood-descent to the betterment of later generations. (4) Another collateral feature is the necessary reaction on clan and tribe; for not only does the individual character-making raise the average physique and morale of the group, but the carefully studied restraint of excessive individuality serves to strengthen still further the tribal bonds and to lift still higher the racial bar against aliens. The blackest crime in the Seri calendar is the toleration of alien blood; and no more effective device could be found for keeping alive the race-sense on which this canon depends than that virtually sacramental surveillance of sexual intimacy which Seri usage requires.324

On reviewing the customs and their influence on the everyday life of the tribe, certain features stand out clearly: (1) Perhaps the most notable feature is the collective nature of the interaction; while the desire begins with the individual feelings of the suitor and is shaped by the individual feelings of the maiden, all expressions of interest are open and public (at least to the elders of the two clans involved), while the personal emotions on both sides are fully subordinated to the public interests of the clans and tribe as judged and decided by the matronly lawmakers and clan leaders. Thus, neither the man nor the woman acts solely for themselves; both love and act in the interests of the tribe according to the paths set by the tribal leaders. (2) Complementing the collective nature of the mating, another striking feature is the formal or legal aspect of the union; the entire process, from beginning to end, is strictly regulated by traditions and practices passed down from ancient times. Thus, the roots of young affection are not destroyed but rather nurtured, even as the growing vine and its reaching tendrils are shaped to fit a social structure established long ago and maintained by unbroken tradition. (3) An additional aspect of the customs is the necessary effect on the individual character of both bride and groom; the aspiring warrior-husband must demonstrate outstanding physical and moral qualities or face ostracism and outlaw status, stimulating his ambitions and affections to the highest degree, while the maiden's pride in her lineage and possessions and her strong sense of responsibility are nurtured to the fullest. The brief initial courtship and the long period of testing signify a time of intensification in two lives at their most formative stage; and if there’s anything to be found in the simple yet powerful law of marital connection—that law whose motive fuels the world’s songs, stories, and all the dynamic progress of humanity as the inspiration of most men’s work and most women’s hopes—the vital energy of this time is passed down through lineage to improve future generations. (4) Another important aspect is the necessary effect on the clan and tribe; for not only does the individual character-building enhance the average physical and moral health of the group, but the carefully managed restraint of excessive individuality further strengthens tribal bonds and elevates the racial standards against outsiders. The most serious crime in the Seri culture is the acceptance of foreign blood; and there is no better way to keep the race consciousness alive, which this principle relies on, than the nearly sacramental oversight of sexual relationships that Seri customs enforce. 324


On scanning the conventional classifications of human marriage in the light of the Seri customs, it becomes clear that these customs define a plane not hitherto recognized observationally. For convenience, this plane and the mode of marriage defining it may, in special allusion to the correlative race-sense, be styled ethnogamy; and the more systematic characters of this mode and plane of marriage may be outlined briefly:

On examining the traditional classifications of human marriage through the lens of the Seri customs, it becomes evident that these customs reveal a perspective that hasn't been recognized before. For clarity, this perspective and the type of marriage associated with it can be referred to as ethnogamy; and the more systematic features of this type and perspective of marriage can be briefly summarized:

1. The most conspicuous character of ethnogamic union, as manifested in the type tribe, is its absolute confinement to the consanguineal group. The breach of this limitation is hardly conceivable in the minds of the group, since aliens are not classed as human, nor even dignified as animals of the kinds deified in their lowly faith, but contemned as unclean and loathsome monsters; yet the infraction has a sort of theoretical place at the head of their calendar as an utterly intolerable crime. In respect to this character, ethnogamy corresponds fairly with the endogamy of McLennan, Spencer, and others, i. e., with the tribal endogamy of Powell.

1. The most noticeable aspect of ethnogamic union, as seen in the typical tribe, is its strict limitation to the family group. Breaking this rule is almost impossible for the group to imagine, as outsiders are not considered human, nor even regarded as the sacred animals of their beliefs, but are seen as unclean and disgusting monsters; still, the violation of this rule holds a theoretical place at the top of their list as a completely unacceptable crime. In this regard, ethnogamy aligns quite well with the endogamy described by McLennan, Spencer, and others, meaning it is similar to the tribal endogamy noted by Powell.

2. A hardly less conspicuous character of ethnogamic union is the formality, or legality, accompanying and reflecting the collective nature of the function. In this respect ethnogamy is the direct antithesis of that hypothetical promiscuity postulated by Morgan and adopted by Spencer, Lubbock, Tylor, and others; and the customs of the type tribe go farther, perhaps, than any other example in verifying the alternative 285* assumption of Westermarck that the course of conjugal development is rather from monogamy toward promiscuity than in the reverse direction.

2. A similarly noticeable feature of ethnogamic union is the formality or legality that comes with it, reflecting the collective nature of the function. In this way, ethnogamy stands in direct contrast to the hypothetical promiscuity suggested by Morgan and adopted by Spencer, Lubbock, Tylor, and others; the customs of the typical tribe may even go further than any other example in supporting Westermarck's alternative view that the course of marital development is more about moving from monogamy toward promiscuity rather than the other way around. 285*

3. A noteworthy character of ethnogamic union is the absence of capture of either bride or groom. Any semblance of capture would indeed be wholly incongruous with the rigid confinement of union to members of the group: it would also be incongruous with the exceeding formality and necessary amicability of both preliminary and concomitant arrangements.

3. A key feature of ethnogamic unions is that there isn’t any capturing of the bride or groom. Any idea of capture would be completely out of place given the strict limitation of the union to members of the group; it would also clash with the high level of formality and the essential friendliness required in both the initial and accompanying arrangements.

4. Another noteworthy character is the total absence of purchase on either part. Although a material condition attends the union, it is essentially a test of character, and is applied in such wise as to dignify the feminine element rather than to degrade it like barbaric wife-purchase; while any semblance of purchase would be incongruous with the economic condition of a tribe practically destitute of accumulated property or even of thrift-sense.

4. Another important aspect is the complete lack of any kind of transaction between the two parties. Even though there are material conditions surrounding the union, it mainly serves as a test of character, and it's handled in a way that elevates the feminine element rather than diminishing it like primitive wife-buying; plus, any hint of a transaction wouldn't make sense in a society that is nearly devoid of accumulated wealth or even a sense of saving.

5. A significant character of ethnogamic union, as exemplified in the type tribe, is the ceremonial or constructive monogamy. While there are obscure (and presumptively vestigial) traces of polyandry or adelphogamy, and while an informal polygyny is practiced by the chiefs and older warriors, the formal matings are between one man and one woman, and appear to be permanent.

5. A key feature of ethnogamic unions, as seen in the typical tribe, is ceremonial or constructive monogamy. Although there are unclear (and presumably leftover) signs of polyandry or adelphogamy, and informal polygyny is practiced by chiefs and older warriors, formal pairings are between one man and one woman, and seem to be permanent.

Now, on comparing these characters with those revealed in the marital customs of other tribes and peoples, they are found to betoken a notably provincial and primitive culture-stage. Perhaps the nearest American approach to the Seri customs is found among certain California aborigines, notably the Yurok and Patawat tribes, who recognize the institution of “half-marriage”;325 but here the material test of Seriland is replaced by purchase, while no trace of the moral test is found (even as among the Carolina Indians, according to Lawson); moreover, while these tribes discourage alien connections, they are not absolutely eschewed and reprobated as among the Seri. Other notably primitive customs, like those so fully described by Spencer and Gillen, have been found among the Australian aborigines;326 but even here a part only of the marriages are regulated by amicable convention, while others are effected by (1) charm, (2) capture, and (3) elopement; and these collateral devices imply intertribal relations of a kind incongruous with the ethnogamic habit and utterly repugnant to the ethnogamic instinct. In both cases, accordingly, the marital customs clearly imply (and actually accompany) a much more highly differentiated socialry and economy than that of the Seri. The same is true of that vestigial custom of the Scottish clans known as handfasting, which is, moreover, a direct antithesis of the Seri custom in that it carries a warrant for, rather than an abridgment of, conjugal prerogatives; and the same 286* might be said also of various South American, African, and southeastern Asian customs.

Now, when we compare these customs with those found among other tribes and cultures, they seem to reflect a notably limited and primitive stage of development. The closest parallel in American culture to the Seri customs can be seen in certain California native groups, particularly the Yurok and Patawat tribes, who recognize a practice called “half-marriage”;325 but in this case, the material demonstration of Seriland is replaced by purchase, and there's no evidence of the moral component (similar to what was noted among the Carolina Indians by Lawson). Additionally, while these tribes prefer to avoid outside connections, they aren't completely rejected as they are among the Seri. Other distinctly primitive customs, like those thoroughly documented by Spencer and Gillen, can be found among Australian aborigines;326 but even there, only some marriages are arranged by mutual agreement, while others occur through (1) charm, (2) capture, and (3) elopement; these additional methods suggest intertribal relations that contradict the ethnogamic tradition and are completely opposed to the ethnogamic instinct. In both instances, the marital practices clearly indicate (and actually coincide with) a much more developed social structure and economy than that of the Seri. The same is true for the outdated custom of handfasting in Scottish clans, which is actually the opposite of the Seri custom because it provides a framework for, rather than limits, marital rights; similar observations can be made about various customs in South America, Africa, and Southeast Asia.

Certain representative North American customs have already been seriated in connection with the Seri customs, and their relations are of sufficient significance to warrant recapitulation. The series begins with the maternally organized and practically propertyless Seri. Next stand the Zuñi, with an essentially maternal organization, the vestigial moral test of the groom noted by Cushing, and a concomitant material test verging on purchase; so, too, monogamy persists, while the function remains largely collective, and is regulated by the elders, though the bride enjoys special prerogatives; and the fierce tribal endogamy is relaxed, though clan exogamy is enforced. Measurably similar to those of the Zuñi are the marital customs of the peaceful Tarahumari tribe of northern Mexico and the once warlike Seneca tribe of northeastern United States, although among both of these more cosmopolitan peoples the regulations are less closely similar to the Seri customs than are those of the Pueblo tribe named. Next in order of marital differentiation stand the Kwakiutl and Salish tribes of British Columbia, in which the social organization has practically passed into the paternal stage; here the laws of monogamy, clan exogamy, and tribal endogamy are materially relaxed, the moral test is lost among the Kwakiutl and reduced to a curious vestige among the Salish, while the material test is commuted into the making of expensive presents. Still more remote from the initial stage is the marriage of the paternally organized Omaha, among whom tribal endogamy is prevalent but not absolute, while polygyny is customary; among whom the moral test seems wholly obsolete, while the material test is completely replaced by purchase (or at least by the interchange of expensive presents); and among whom, concordantly, the feminine privileges are few and the females are practically degraded to the rank of property of male kindred or spouses. These several customs fall into a natural order or series definitely coordinated with the esthetic, the industrial or economic, and the general institutional or social conditions of the respective tribes; and it is noteworthy that they mark successive stages in that passage from the mechanical to the spontaneous which characterizes demotic activity.327

Certain representative customs from North America have already been analyzed in relation to the Seri customs, and their connections are significant enough to be worth repeating. The series begins with the Seri, who are organized matrilineally and essentially have no property. Next are the Zuñi, who have a primarily maternal organization, the minimal moral test for the groom noted by Cushing, and a corresponding material test that resembles purchasing. Monogamy is practiced, but the function is largely collective and overseen by the elders, while the bride enjoys certain rights; intense tribal endogamy is loosened, though clan exogamy is enforced. The marital customs of the peaceful Tarahumari tribe of northern Mexico and the formerly warlike Seneca tribe of northeastern United States are somewhat similar to those of the Zuñi, although the regulations of these more cosmopolitan groups are not as closely aligned with the Seri customs as those of the Pueblo tribe mentioned earlier. Following that, the Kwakiutl and Salish tribes of British Columbia show a further differentiation in marital customs, having transitioned to a largely paternal structure; here, the rules regarding monogamy, clan exogamy, and tribal endogamy are significantly relaxed, the moral test disappears among the Kwakiutl and is reduced to a curious remnant among the Salish, while the material test has evolved into the giving of expensive gifts. Even further away from the initial stage is the marriage practice of the Omaha, who are organized paternally, where tribal endogamy is common but not absolute, and polygyny is the norm; here, the moral test seems entirely outdated, while the material test has completely shifted to purchasing (or at least to exchanging expensive gifts), and correspondingly, women's rights are minimal and females are largely treated as property of male relatives or spouses. These various customs fit into a natural order or sequence that corresponds directly with the aesthetic, economic, and general social or institutional conditions of the respective tribes; and it is noteworthy that they indicate successive stages in the transition from mechanical to spontaneous activities that characterize communal life.

In brief, ethnogamy, as exemplified by the type tribe, accompanies that strictly maternal organization which marks the lowest known stage of social development; it accompanies also a rudimentary esthetic condition in which decorative symbols are restricted to the expression of maternal relation; it accompanies, in like manner, an inchoate economic 287* condition characterized by absence of property and thrift-sense; while its most essential concomitant is extratribal antipathy too bitter to permit toleration of alien blood, or even of alien presence save under the constraint of superior force.

In short, ethnogamy, as shown by the type tribe, goes hand in hand with a strictly maternal organization that represents the most basic level of social development. It also aligns with a primitive aesthetic condition where decorative symbols are limited to expressing maternal relationships. Similarly, it is associated with an emerging economic condition marked by a lack of property and a sense of frugality. Its most significant feature is a deep-seated hostility toward outsiders that is too intense to allow acceptance of foreign blood or even the presence of outsiders unless forced by a stronger authority. 287*

MORTUARY CUSTOMS

The prevailing opinion among the better informed Caucasian neighbors of the Seri is that the tribesmen display an inhuman indifference to their dead; and this opinion is one of the factors—combining with current notions as to cannibalism and arrow-poisoning and beastlike toothing in battle—involved in the widespread feeling that the tribesmen are to be accounted as mongrel and uncanny monsters rather than human beings.

The common belief among the more knowledgeable white neighbors of the Seri is that the tribespeople show a shocking lack of concern for their dead. This belief, along with current ideas about cannibalism, poison arrows, and ferocious fighting, contributes to the widespread perception that the tribespeople should be seen as mixed-breed and eerie monsters rather than as human beings.

The opinion that the Seri neglect their dead on occasion would seem to rest on a considerable body of evidence; Mendoza’s record of the numberless neglected corpses of warriors polluting the air and poisoning the streams of Cerro Prieto in 1757 would seem to be unusual only in its fulness; and Señor Encinas, albeit so conservative as to repudiate the reputed anthropophagy and to recognize better qualities among the folk than any contemporary, declares that they are utterly negligent of their dead, save that when the bodies lie near rancherias heaps of brambles are thrown over them to bar—and thus to lessen the disturbance from—prowling coyotes. Quite indubitable, too, is the specific testimony of vaqueros to the effect that Seri raiders overtaken by the Draconian penalty of the frontier merely lie where they fall, even when this is well within reach of the tribesmen, Don Andrés Noriega’s verification of his boast (ante, p. 113) being an instance in point. On the other hand stands the conspicuous fact (unknown to the frontiersman) that well-marked cemeteries adjoin some of the rancherias of interior Seriland. The sum of the somewhat discrepant evidence accords with a characteristically unsatisfactory statement by Mashém, to the effect that the mourning ceremonies are important only in connection with women—i. e., matrons—because “the woman is just like the family” (“la muger es como la familia”); and this intimation, in turn, is corroborated by the single known instance of inhumation in Seriland, as well as by certain indirect indications connected with the scatophagic customs (ante, p. 213). On the whole it seems certain that the mortuary ceremonies attain their highest development in connection with females, the recognized blood-bearers and legislators of the tribe.

The idea that the Seri sometimes neglect their dead appears to be supported by a substantial amount of evidence. Mendoza’s account of the countless abandoned corpses of warriors contaminating the air and poisoning the streams of Cerro Prieto in 1757 seems unusual mainly due to its detail. Señor Encinas, although conservative enough to deny claims of cannibalism and to acknowledge more positive traits in the people than anyone at the time, states that they are completely neglectful of their dead, except that when bodies are near rancherias, piles of twigs are thrown over them to prevent—thus reducing the disturbance from—roaming coyotes. It's also clear from the specific testimonies of vaqueros that Seri raiders who face severe penalties on the frontier simply lie where they fall, even when help is within reach of their tribesmen, as demonstrated by Don Andrés Noriega’s confirmation of his claim (ante, p. 113). Conversely, there’s the notable fact (unknown to those on the frontier) that well-defined cemeteries are located next to some of the rancherias in the interior of Seriland. The overall evidence, although somewhat conflicting, aligns with Mashém’s less-than-satisfactory statement that mourning ceremonies are mainly significant concerning women—specifically, matrons—because “the woman is just like the family” (“la muger es como la familia”); this suggestion is also supported by the only known case of burial in Seriland, as well as by certain indirect signs related to scavenging customs (ante, p. 213). Overall, it seems certain that the mortuary ceremonies are most developed in relation to females, who are recognized as the blood-bearers and decision-makers of the tribe.

The special dignification of females in respect to funerary rites is without precise parallel among other American aborigines, so far as is known, but is not without analogues in the shape of (presumptive) vestiges of a former magnification of matrons in the mortuary customs of certain tribes. The vestiges are especially clear among the Iroquoian Indians, whose aboriginal socialry coincided with that of the 288* Seri at various points; witness the following passage from the Onondaga mourning ritual, as collected and translated by Hewitt:

The unique respect given to women during funerary rites is unlike anything found among other Native American tribes, as far as we know. However, there are some signs that point to a past time when women held greater importance in the burial customs of certain groups. This is particularly evident among the Iroquois, whose early social structure overlapped with that of the Seri in several ways; consider the following excerpt from the Onondaga mourning ritual, as gathered and translated by Hewitt:

Now, moreover, again, another thing, indeed, our voices come forth to utter; and is it not that that we say, that far yonder the Hoyaner [chief of highest grade] who labored for us so well is falling away as falls a tree? So, moreover, it is these things that he bears away with him—this file of mat-carriers, warriors all, visible and present here; also this file of those who customarily dance the corn-dances [the women]—they go prosperously. And alas! How utterly calamitous is that thing that occurs when the body of this woman falls! For, verily, far yonder in the length of the file will the file of our grandchildren be removed! These our grandchildren who run hither and thither in sport, these our grandchildren who by creeping drag themselves about in the dust, these our grandchildren whose bodies are slung to cradle-boards, and even those of them whose faces are looking hitherward as they come under the ground.328

Now, furthermore, there's something else we need to express; isn’t it true that out there the Hoyaner [the highest-ranking chief] who worked so hard for us is fading away like a falling tree? So, he takes with him this group of mat-carriers, all warriors, right here in front of us; also, this group of those who usually perform the corn dances [the women]—they continue on successfully. And it’s so sad! How utterly tragic it is when this woman's body falls! For, indeed, far ahead in the line, the line of our grandchildren will be lost! These grandchildren who run around playing, these grandchildren who crawl through the dirt, these grandchildren whose bodies are strapped to cradle boards, and even those among them whose faces look this way as they go into the ground.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The identifiable cemeteries of Seriland are few and small—much less populous than might be expected of a tribe numbering several hundreds for centuries, and able to maintain well-worn trails threading all parts of their rugged domain. Three graves were noted near the abandoned rancheria at Pozo Escalante; one was observed near a jacal skeleton at Barranca Salina; five or six were made out doubtfully on a low spur adjacent to Punta Antigualla; another was found near the rancheria midway thence to Punta Ygnacio; still another was doubtfully identified hard by a ruinous jacal just where the foothills of Sierra Seri descend to the plain stretching toward Punta Miguel; and this distribution may be deemed representative. A scant half-dozen perceptible graves were observed near the considerable rancheria of Punta Narragansett, which was numerously inhabited during the Dewey surveys of 1873; one was found adjoining the old jacal near Campo Navidad; but none were discovered in connection with the extensive rancheria on Rada Ballena. The largest known cemetery occupies the triangular point of shrub-dotted plain pushing out toward the site of the old rancheria at the base of Punta Tormenta; it comprises perhaps a score of evidently ancient graves, while two newer ones were found on the pebble bar beyond the jacales. When near the pebbly beaches the graves are marked by heaps of pebbles and small cobbles, commonly about the size of those used as hupfs, these cairns being 3 or 4 feet long, two-thirds as wide, and seldom over 12 or 15 inches in height; and most of the cairns are accompanied and enlarged by piles (ranging from a peck to a bushel) of the scatophagic shells already noted. The graves remote from pebbly beaches are marked by heaps of cholla stems and branches, rudely thatched with miscellaneous brambles roughly pinned 289* together by okatilla stems, the shocks being sometimes nearly as high and broad as the jacales. A few of the scatophagic shells were found about the bramble-marked graves at Pozo Escalante, and a single one at Barranca Salina. In general the association of cemeteries and rancherias, or of graves and jacales, indicates that habitations are usually abandoned for a time when a death occurs within or near them.

The recognizable cemeteries in Seriland are few and small—far less populated than you might expect from a tribe of several hundred that has existed for centuries and maintained well-used paths throughout their rugged territory. Three graves were spotted near the abandoned village at Pozo Escalante; one was seen near the remains of a jacal at Barranca Salina; five or six were barely visible on a low ridge next to Punta Antigualla; another was found near the village halfway to Punta Ygnacio; and yet another was uncertainly identified close to a dilapidated jacal where the foothills of Sierra Seri slope down to the plain leading to Punta Miguel; this pattern likely represents the overall distribution. A few clear graves, about half a dozen, were noticed near the larger village of Punta Narragansett, which was heavily populated during the Dewey surveys of 1873; one was discovered next to the old jacal by Campo Navidad; but none were found associated with the large village at Rada Ballena. The biggest known cemetery is located at the triangular point of shrub-covered plain extending toward the site of the old village at the base of Punta Tormenta; it contains around twenty clearly ancient graves, along with two newer ones on the pebble bar beyond the jacales. Near the pebbly beaches, the graves are marked by piles of pebbles and small cobbles, typically about the size of those used for hupfs, and these cairns measure about 3 or 4 feet long, two-thirds as wide, and rarely exceed 12 or 15 inches in height; most of the cairns are also accompanied and enlarged by piles (ranging from a peck to a bushel) of the scatophagic shells previously mentioned. The graves located away from the pebbly beaches are marked by heaps of cholla stems and branches, roughly thatched with various brambles that are loosely fastened together with okatilla stems, with these bundles sometimes being nearly as tall and wide as the jacales. A few scatophagic shells were found around the bramble-marked graves at Pozo Escalante, and one at Barranca Salina. Overall, the connection between cemeteries and villages, or graves and jacales, suggests that homes are usually abandoned for a period when a death occurs within or near them.

Fig. 39—Mortuary olla.

Fig. 39—Burial pot.

The most conspicuous cairn seen in Seriland was well within Tiburon. It stands on the southern side of a little rock-butte about a mile and a half east-southeast of Tinaja Anita, south of the main arroyo, and near where the trail from the tinaja bifurcates toward Arroyo Carrizal and Punta Narragansett, respectively. It is shadowed by a notably large and widespreading paloverde, and is in the form of a cone estimated at 7 feet in height and 18 or 20 feet across the base. The materials, at least on the surface, are rounded pebbles and cobbles, possibly from the adjacent arroyos, though more probably from the beaches, of which the nearest is miles away. It was not determined to be mortuary.329

The most noticeable cairn in Seriland was located well within Tiburon. It sits on the southern side of a small rock butte about a mile and a half east-southeast of Tinaja Anita, south of the main arroyo, and close to where the trail from the tinaja splits toward Arroyo Carrizal and Punta Narragansett. It is shaded by a notably large and spreading paloverde and is shaped like a cone, estimated to be 7 feet tall and 18 or 20 feet wide at the base. The materials, at least on the surface, are rounded pebbles and cobbles, possibly from the nearby arroyos, though more likely from the beaches, which are miles away. It was not found to be mortuary.329

On the death of the matron, a grave is scooped out by means of shells 290* a few yards from her jacal, preference being given to relatively elevated or commanding points. The excavation is about 30 inches (90 cm.) in depth; within it is placed first the pelican-skin robe of the deceased, so arranged as to fold over the body; then the corpse, dressed in the ordinary costume of life, is compressed into small compass by closely flexing the knees and bringing them against the thorax, extending the arms around and along the lower limbs so that hands and feet are together, and bending the head forward on the chest; when it is deposited in the receptacle in such manner as to lie on the left side, facing northward. Near the face is laid a dish of baked clay or a large shell filled with food, and beside it a small olla of water (an actual example is shown in figure 39), while the hupf, awls, hairbrush, olla-ring, and other domestic paraphernalia are placed near the hands. Next the personal fetishes and votive symbols (in the form of puppets or dolls such as those shown in figure 40 a and b) of the dead mother are slipped beneath the face, and her paint-cup, with a plentiful supply of paint, is added; the poor personal possessions, in the form of shell-beads and miscellaneous trinketry, are then heaped over the face and shoulders, and these are covered with the superfluous garments and miscellaneous 291* property of the deceased. Finally the pelican-pelt bedding is folded over the body, and two turtle-shells are laid over all as a kind of coffin, when the grave is carefully filled, and the ground so smoothed as to leave no mark of the burial. During subsequent hours the stones for the cairn or the cholla-joints and other brambles for the brush-heap are piled over the spot, while the scatophagic shells are added at intervals apparently for weeks or months and perhaps for years after the burial.

Upon the matron's death, a grave is dug using shells a few yards from her hut, with a preference for higher or more prominent locations. The grave is about 30 inches (90 cm) deep. Inside, the deceased's pelican-skin robe is laid out to cover the body. The corpse, dressed in everyday clothes, is positioned by bending the knees tightly against the chest, wrapping the arms around the lower limbs so that the hands and feet are together, and tilting the head forward onto the chest. It is then placed in the grave on its left side, facing north. Near the face, a dish made of baked clay or a large shell filled with food is placed, along with a small pot of water (an actual example can be seen in figure 39). Other personal items such as a hupf, awls, a hairbrush, a olla-ring, and other household items are arranged near the hands. Next, personal fetishes and ceremonial symbols (like the puppets or dolls shown in figure 40 a and b) belonging to the deceased mother are tucked under the face, and her paint cup filled with paint is added. Her meager belongings, including shell beads and various trinkets, are piled over her face and shoulders, and these are covered with extra clothing and other possessions of the deceased. Finally, the pelican-pelt bedding is folded over the body, and two turtle shells are placed on top as a sort of coffin. The grave is then carefully filled in and smoothed out to leave no trace of the burial. In the following hours, stones for a cairn or cholla joints and other brush for a heap are stacked over the site, while scatophagic shells are added intermittently, apparently for weeks, months, or even years after the burial.

Fig. 40—Woman’s fetishes.

Fig. 40—Woman's interests.

Fig. 41—Food for the long journey.

Fig. 41—Snacks for the long trip.

The mortuary food is carefully selected for appropriate qualities (i. e., for “strength” in the notion of the mourners). It comprises portions of turtle-flippers, and, if practicable, a chunk of charred plastron—the food substance especially associated with long and hard journeys—with a few fresh mollusks, and, judging from a single good example as well as from analogy, one or two scatophagic shells. The remains of a funerary feast are illustrated in figures 41 and 42, the latter being the scatophagic receptacle utilized apparently in the absence of the customary Noah’s ark. It may be significant that this shell is perforated at the apex, evidently by long wave-wear before utilization, and that the accompanying olla bears marks of having been broken, then repaired, and afterward perforated, as illustrated in the photo-mechanical reproduction (figure 39); for these features perhaps express that idea of “killing” mortuary sacrifices, ostensibly to fit them to the condition of the deceased, though really (in subconscious practicality) to protect the sepulcher from predation.330

The mortuary food is carefully chosen for its right qualities (like “strength” in the eyes of the mourners). It includes pieces of turtle flippers, and if possible, a piece of charred turtle shell—the food especially linked to long and difficult journeys—along with a few fresh mollusks, and based on a single good example as well as from comparisons, one or two scavenger shells. The leftovers from a funerary feast are shown in figures 41 and 42, with the latter being the scavenger container used apparently when the usual Noah’s ark is unavailable. It may be noteworthy that this shell has been worn down at the top, likely from long exposure to waves before being used, and that the accompanying pot shows signs of having been broken, then fixed, and later drilled through, as shown in the photo-mechanical reproduction (figure 39); these characteristics may symbolize the idea of “killing” mortuary sacrifices, supposedly to suit the condition of the deceased, but really (in a practical subconscious way) to protect the tomb from looting.

Fig. 42—Mortuary Cup. 292*

Fig. 42—Mortuary Cup. 292*

Soon after the death (immediately after the burial, so nearly as could be ascertained) there is an apparently ceremonial mourning, in which the matrons of the clan, and, at least to some extent, the warriors also, participate. The mourners wail loudly, throw earth and ashes or ordure on their heads, and beat and bruise (but apparently avoid scarifying) their breasts, faces, and arms. This is continued, culminating daily about the hour of interment, for several days—unless the rancheria is sooner abandoned, in which case the period of formal mourning is shortened.

Soon after the death (right after the burial, as far as anyone could tell), there is what seems to be a ceremonial mourning, where the women of the clan, and to some extent the warriors too, take part. The mourners cry out loudly, throw dirt, ashes, or even waste on their heads, and beat and bruise (though it seems they avoid cutting) their breasts, faces, and arms. This goes on, peaking daily around the time of the burial, for several days—unless the community is abandoned sooner, in which case the formal mourning period is shortened.

In addition to the formal mourning of matrons there is a custom of nocturnal wailing after the death of warriors in battle, and, apparently, also, following the death of matrons or nubile maidens, which attracts the notice of frontier rancheros and vaqueros. According to their accounts the first note of lamentation may be sounded at any hour of the night by any of the group to which the deceased belonged; it is successively taken up by other members of the party until all voices are united in a resounding chorus of inarticulate moans, wails, shriller cries, and wild howls, likened by the auditors to the blood-bellowing of cattle; if other groups of the tribesmen are within hearing, they, too, take up the cry, so that the lamentation may extend to the entire tribe and echo throughout practically all Seriland at the same moment. The fierce howling and attendant excitement may rise so high in the group in which the wailing begins that all seem bereft of customary caution; and sometimes they suddenly seize ollas and weapons, and decamp incontinently, perhaps scattering widely and racing for miles before settling again for sleep or watchful guard.

In addition to the formal mourning of women, there’s a practice of nighttime wailing after a warrior dies in battle, and apparently also after the death of women or young maidens, which catches the attention of nearby ranchers and cowboys. According to their stories, the first note of mourning can be sounded at any hour of the night by anyone from the deceased’s group; it’s then taken up by others until everyone joins in a loud chorus of unrecognizable moans, wails, sharper cries, and howls that listeners compare to the frenzied bellowing of cattle. If other groups of tribesmen are within earshot, they too join the lament, so that the mourning can spread to the entire tribe and resonate throughout most of Seriland at once. The intense howling and the accompanying energy can become so overwhelming in the group where the wailing starts that everyone seems to lose their usual caution; sometimes, they suddenly grab pots and weapons and bolt away, possibly scattering widely and running for miles before they finally settle down to sleep or keep watch.


The ideas of the folk concerning death and concerning the relations between the living and the dead are largely esoteric, and are, moreover, veiled by the nonequivalence of Seri expressions with the terms of alien languages.

The beliefs of the people about death and the connections between the living and the dead are mostly complex and are further obscured by the lack of direct translation of Seri expressions into foreign languages.

At least an inchoate belief in a life beyond the grave was intimated by Mashém and his companions at Costa Rica, and their circumspection of speech and mien indicated a strong veneration for, or dread of, the manes; though the specific expressions were connected with deceased matrons, who alone seemed to be prominent in the minds of the clan-mates. So far as could be gathered the belief seems to be that the dead find their way back to the primordial underworld, whence Earth and Beings were brought up by Pelican and Turtle (or Shark) respectively, and are liable to return by night with mischievous intent.

At least a vague belief in an afterlife was suggested by Mashém and his friends in Costa Rica, and their careful way of speaking and behaving showed a deep respect for, or fear of, the spirits of the dead; although the specific mentions were related to deceased women, who seemed to be the main focus for the group. From what could be understood, the belief appears to be that the dead return to the original underworld, from where Earth and Beings were created by Pelican and Turtle (or Shark), and they can come back at night with harmful intentions.

The direct expressions of the Seri informants are fully corroborated by the association of things in interior Seriland. The burial of water and food, of the personal fetishes and votive objects, and of the highly prized face-paint belonging to the dead matron, attests anticipation of a post-mortuary journey; while the temporary abandonment of jacales and rancherias and the nocturnal fears and flights alike betoken 293* dread of sepulchral visitants. The most suggestive of the associations, i. e., between the scatophagic stores and the sepulchers, awaits full explanation.

The straightforward remarks from the Seri informants are completely backed up by the connections between items in interior Seriland. The burial of water and food, personal fetishes and votive objects, and the highly valued face paint belonging to the deceased matron show an expectation of a journey after death. Meanwhile, the temporary abandonment of jacales and rancherias, along with nighttime fears and escapes, indicate a fear of grave visitors. The most intriguing connection, between the scatophagic supplies and the graves, still needs a full explanation. 293*

Serial Social Media Platform

In the conventional seriation of social development four stages are clearly recognizable, viz.: (1) Savagery, in which the social organization is based on blood kinship reckoned in the female line; (2) barbarism, in which the basis of organization is actual or assumed consanguinity reckoned in the male line; (3) civilization, in which the laws are based on property-right, primarily territorial; and (4) enlightenment, in which the organization is constitutional and rests on the recognition of equal human rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Now, in terms of this seriation of general culture-stages, the place of the Seri tribe is clear. Reckoning consanguinity wholly in the maternal line, as they do, they belong in the initial stage of savagery. Accordingly they pertain to the lower or more primitive of the two great stages represented by the American aborigines.

In the typical sequence of social development, four stages are clearly identifiable: (1) Savagery, where social organization is based on blood relationships traced through the female line; (2) Barbarism, where organization is based on actual or presumed family ties traced through the male line; (3) Civilization, where laws are based on property rights, mainly relating to land; and (4) Enlightenment, where the organization is constitutional and acknowledges equal human rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Now, looking at this sequence of cultural stages, the position of the Seri tribe is evident. Since they trace family ties exclusively through the maternal line, they fall under the initial stage of savagery. Thus, they belong to the lower or more primitive of the two major stages represented by the Native Americans.

A still more refined seriation may be effected through conspection of the several lines of activital development—the esthetic and industrial, and especially the sophic or fiducial, as well as the strictly social; for these lines are most intimately intertwined. Thus, in the Old World, the transition from maternal to patriarchal organization was accompanied, and evidently superinduced, by the development of zooculture into extensive herding; in different districts of the New World, a parallel transition attended the development of agriculture to a phase involving the protection of acequias and fields by armed men; while throughout primitive life, laws are formulated and enforced chiefly through appeals to the superphysical or mythologic. Now, review of the Seri esthetic indicates that the decorative concepts and activities are in large measure inchoate and are practically confined to a single manifestation, i. e., the delineation of totemic symbols primarily denoting zoic tutelaries and incidentally connoting the blood-carriers of clans consecrated to these beast-gods; so that the esthetic motives and devices of the tribe are essentially zoosematic. In like manner a considerable part of the technic of the tribe is zoomimic, as already shown, while even the most highly developed industrial activities occupy the biotic borderland of mechanical chance rather than the characteristic demotic realm of intellectual design. So, too, the faith of the folk is exclusively and overweeningly zootheistic, to the extent that every motion, every thought, every organized action, every law, every ceremony, is shaped with reference to mystical potencies vaguely conceived as a pantheon of maleficent beast-gods; and it is this dark and hopeless faith that gives character to the tribal esthetic and technic. Concordantly the faith finds reflection in the very elements of the social organization; the matron is the blood-carrier and the lawgiver not in and for herself 294* but as the vicarious and visible exponent of an ever-immanent beast-god—the clan tutelary; her appeals to her brothers for administrative aid are precisely parallel to her intuitive passage from zoomimicry into the field of mechanical chance defined by protolithic implements; and the appeal, like the execution of the law either by herself or by her brothers, is controlled and regulated in absolute deference to the zoic pantheon. Thus, the inchoate tribal laws, expressed in habitual lines of action and modes of thought, are by no means conscious products of human wisdom, but are confidently imputed to a superhuman wisdom on the part of myth-magnified beasts of a mystical olden time; and, similarly, the power of executing these laws is by no means cognized as conscious human faculty, but is faithfully imputed to supernal potencies of mythical monsters. Essentially, therefore, the tribal law is putatively zoocratic; and the social organization may justly be classed as a putative zoocracy.

A more refined analysis can be made by looking at the different aspects of vital development—like aesthetic, industrial, and especially cognitive or trust-based, along with the purely social; these aspects are deeply interconnected. For instance, in the Old World, the shift from maternal to patriarchal structures was accompanied and clearly influenced by the growth of animal husbandry into large-scale herding; in various regions of the New World, a similar transition coincided with the development of agriculture that involved protecting irrigation channels and fields with armed individuals; meanwhile, throughout early human societies, laws were mainly created and enforced through appeals to supernatural or mythological beliefs. Now, a review of the Seri aesthetic shows that decorative ideas and expressions are largely in their early stages and are mainly limited to one form, specifically the depiction of totemic symbols that primarily represent animal guardians and incidentally signal the lineage of clans dedicated to these animal deities. In this way, the aesthetic motives and tools of the tribe are fundamentally animal-based. Similarly, a significant part of the tribe's techniques is animal-representational, as previously discussed, while even the most advanced industrial activities fall closer to the realm of chance events rather than the typical cultural areas of intellectual design. Additionally, the people's faith is entirely and overly animalistic, to the point where every action, thought, organized deed, law, and ritual is oriented around the mystical powers that are vaguely envisioned as a collection of malevolent animal deities. This grim and despairing belief greatly influences the tribal aesthetic and techniques. Correspondingly, this faith is reflected in the elements of social structure; the matron serves as both the bearer of lineage and the lawmaker, not for her own sake but as the visible representative of a continually present animal deity—the clan's guardian. Her requests for help from her brothers in governance directly mirror her instinctive transition from animal representation to the domain of chance defined by rudimentary tools. Likewise, these requests, along with the enforcement of laws either by herself or her brothers, are governed and regulated in complete submission to the animal pantheon. Thus, the emerging tribal laws, expressed through habitual actions and thought patterns, are not conscious outcomes of human intellect but are confidently attributed to a wisdom beyond human understanding, sourced from mythologized animals of a distant past. Moreover, the authority to implement these laws is not recognized as a conscious human ability, but is sincerely ascribed to the overwhelming powers of mythical creatures. Fundamentally, therefore, the tribal law is seen as zoocratic; and the social organization can rightly be classified as a putative zoocracy.

To prevent possible confusion, it may be desirable to note specifically that the Seri government is not matriarchal in any proper sense. As pointed out elsewhere, matriarchy is not (at least among the American aborigines) an antecedent of patriarchy, but a correlative of that form of government; and it would be especially erroneous and misleading to designate as matriarchal a tribe like the Seri, whose chiefs and subchiefs (i. e., appellate clan-administratives) are invariably masculine. Neither would it be just, despite the dominance of matrons in legislative and judicative matters, to regard the tribal government as a gyneocracy, such as have been noted in various parts of North America—e. g., in Sonora, according to a current tradition as to the origin of the name of the province, and among the Pomo Indians of California, according to Cronise as interpreted by Powers;331 for the actual control is exercised by the warrior brothers, while the ideal control is vested in that zoic pantheon of which the matrons are putative mouthpieces. Physically and practically the Seri government is an adelphiarchy, as already indicated; but in the minds of the tribesmen themselves it is an inchoate theocracy putatively headed by a pantheon of animate monsters, whose prelates are personified in the painted clanmothers.

To avoid any confusion, it's important to clarify that the Seri government is not matriarchal in any true sense. As noted elsewhere, matriarchy is not (at least among Native Americans) a precursor to patriarchy but a counterpart to that form of government. It would be particularly inaccurate and misleading to label a tribe like the Seri as matriarchal, since its chiefs and subchiefs (i.e., higher clan administrators) are always male. Similarly, even though women play a dominant role in legislative and judicial matters, it wouldn't be accurate to describe the tribal government as a gyneocracy, unlike those seen in various parts of North America—such as in Sonora, according to a common legend about the origin of the province's name, and among the Pomo Indians of California, as noted by Cronise and interpreted by Powers;331 because actual control is held by the warrior brothers, while the ideal control is associated with a pantheon of living creatures, with the matrons acting as their supposed representatives. In reality and practice, the Seri government is an adelphiarchy, as previously mentioned; but in the minds of the tribesmen themselves, it is an emerging theocracy supposedly led by a pantheon of animated beings, whose leaders are embodied in the painted matriarchs of the clan.


Summarily, then, the Seri are zoosematic in esthetic, zoomimic in technic, zootheistic in faith, and putatively zoocratic in government, while even the Seri tongue is so largely mimetic or onomatopoetic in form as to accord with the industries and institutions; and in view of the intimate interrelations between the several lines of activity, it would seem preferable to determine the culture-status from the coincident testimony of all the lines, but feasible to measure it in terms of any one or more of these activital lines.

In summary, the Seri are animal-inspired in their aesthetics, have animal-like techniques, hold animal-related beliefs, and are thought to have government based on animal principles. Even their language is mostly imitative or sound-based, aligning with their industries and institutions. Considering the close connections between these activities, it seems better to evaluate their cultural status based on the combined evidence from all areas, while it is also possible to measure it using one or more of these specific activities.

Now, on comparing the characteristics of the Seri with those of other known tribes of North America, many resemblances and a few differences 295* are found; and practically all of the more conspicuous differences extend in the same direction—i. e., they combine to indicate an exceptionally primitive, or lowly, or zoic, plane for the simple savages of Seriland. Thus, few tribes are so poor in esthetic as the Seri, and in none other are the esthetic devices so clearly and so exclusively zoic; few if any other known tribes so clearly exemplify zoomimic culture; none other so well represents protolithic culture, and no other known tribe is so completely devoid of mechanical devices reflecting higher culture; in general socialry no other known tribe better, or indeed so well, exemplifies zoocracy, while in such special features as those of ethnogamic mating, ceremonial scatophagy, and mortuary magnification of the blood-carriers, the folk mark the most primitive known phase of cultural advancement; and although language and faith yield less definite measure, their testimony is coincident with that of the other lines of activity. Accordingly the Seri must be assigned to the initial place in the scale of cultural development represented by the American aborigines, and hence to the lowest recognized phase of savagery.

Now, when we compare the characteristics of the Seri with those of other known tribes in North America, we find many similarities and a few differences 295*. Most of the noticeable differences point to the same conclusion—they suggest that the simple savages of Seriland exist at a particularly primitive or basic stage. Few tribes are as lacking in aesthetic qualities as the Seri, and none have aesthetic expressions that are so clearly and exclusively animalistic. Few, if any, other tribes exemplify zoomimic culture to such a degree; none represent protolithic culture as well, and no other tribe is completely without mechanical innovations that reflect a higher culture. In terms of social structure, no other known tribe better showcases zoocracy, and in specific aspects such as ethnogamic mating, ceremonial scatophagy, and the elaborate mourning practices regarding blood-carriers, they represent the most primitive known stage of cultural advancement. Although language and belief systems provide less concrete evidence, they align with the findings from other areas of activity. Therefore, the Seri must be placed at the very beginning of the cultural development scale among American indigenous peoples, signifying the lowest recognized stage of savagery.


Two or three corollaries of this placement are noteworthy: (1) In most of the researches concerning human development conducted by the anthropologists of the world, attention has been given chiefly or wholly to the somatic or biotic characters of Homo sapiens; but while various physical features of the Seri suggest bestial affinities (as has been pointed out in an earlier chapter), it is especially significant that the nearest and clearest indications of bestial relationship are found in the psychical features of the lowly folk—for zoic faith in its multifarious manifestations is but a reflection of burgeoning yet still bestial mind.

Two or three points about this placement are worth mentioning: (1) In the majority of studies on human development conducted by anthropologists worldwide, the focus has primarily or entirely been on the physical or biological traits of Homo sapiens; however, while various physical characteristics of the Seri suggest animalistic connections (as noted in an earlier chapter), it's particularly important to highlight that the strongest and most obvious signs of animal relationships are found in the mental traits of these simple people—since their animalistic beliefs, in all their forms, are merely a reflection of an emerging but still animalistic mindset.

(2) While human independence of environment culminates in socialry, the interdependence of activital lines so well revealed in lowest savagery demonstrates that institutions and all government necessarily reflect environment; and, at the same time, that the progressive emancipation from environment signalized in the higher culture-grades measures the conquest of Nature through industrial activity—for both the productive work and the attendant exercise cumulatively elevate sapient Man above mindless Nature.

(2) While human independence from the environment reaches its peak in society, the interconnectedness of vital lines seen in the lowest savagery shows that institutions and all forms of government inevitably reflect their environment. At the same time, the progressive freedom from the environment evident in higher levels of culture indicates the mastery of nature through industrial activity—because both the productive work and the associated effort together elevate intelligent humans above mindless nature.

(3) An adjunct of progress in every stage of development, as indicated with especial clearness in the earliest stages, is the annulment or curtailment of both physical and formal law, and the substitution of cumulatively growing volition: the development of the esthetic passes from the intuitive toward the ratiocinative, that of the industrial from the instinctive toward the inventive, and that of the social from the merely reflective to the vigorously constructive; with every pulse of progress the subservience to blind chance and imaginative figment diminishes; and with each increment of sound confidence the ability to surmount physical obstruction and to dispense with primitive formality is cumulatively augmented. 296*

(3) A part of progress at every stage of development, especially clear in the early stages, is the reduction or elimination of both physical and formal laws, replaced by an increasing sense of individual will. The growth of aesthetics moves from intuition to reasoning, industrial development shifts from instinct to invention, and social evolution evolves from mere reflection to active construction. With every step forward, reliance on random chance and fanciful ideas decreases, and with each boost in confidence, the ability to overcome physical barriers and move beyond basic formality significantly increases. 296*

Language

The bases for definite knowledge of the Seri tongue are the five vocabularies described on other pages (13, 95, 97, 102, and 107).

The foundation for certain knowledge of the Seri language comes from the five vocabularies detailed on other pages (13, 95, 97, 102, and 107).

The earliest of these vocabularies, comprising eleven terms, was collected in Hermosillo in 1850 by Señor Lavandera, presumably from the tribal outlaw Kolusio, and transmitted to Señor Ramirez for discussion. This pioneer vocabulary is superseded by those of later date.

The earliest of these vocabularies, made up of eleven terms, was collected in Hermosillo in 1850 by Señor Lavandera, likely from the tribal outlaw Kolusio, and sent to Señor Ramirez for discussion. This initial vocabulary is replaced by those from later dates.

The second Seri word-collection was made by Commissioner Bartlett at Hermosillo in 1852; it was obtained from Kolusio, and comprises some two hundred words.

The second Seri word collection was created by Commissioner Bartlett in Hermosillo in 1852; it was obtained from Kolusio and includes about two hundred words.

The third vocabulary was obtained at Hermosillo during or about 1860, doubtless from Kolusio, by Señor Tenochio; it comprises about one hundred terms; it was discussed and published by Señor Pimentel, and served as a basis for the first scientific classification of the tribe and their collinguals.

The third vocabulary was collected in Hermosillo around 1860, likely from Kolusio, by Señor Tenochio; it has around one hundred terms. It was analyzed and published by Señor Pimentel, and it laid the groundwork for the first scientific classification of the tribe and their language relatives.

The fourth Seri vocabulary was that obtained by M Pinart at Hermosillo in 1879, almost certainly from Kolusio; it comprises over six hundred words, with a few short phrases.

The fourth Seri vocabulary was collected by M Pinart in Hermosillo in 1879, most likely from Kolusio; it includes over six hundred words and a handful of short phrases.

The latest word-collection is the Bureau (or McGee) vocabulary, obtained on the Seri frontier in 1894 through Mashém, subchief of the tribe; it comprises some three hundred vocables with a few short phrases, accompanied by explanatory notes.

The latest word collection is the Bureau (or McGee) vocabulary, gathered on the Seri border in 1894 by Mashém, the tribe's subchief; it includes about three hundred words and a few short phrases, along with explanatory notes.

The several collections are entirely independent: Lavandera’s record was made in Spanish, at the request of Ramirez; Bartlett was not aware of the earlier record, and wrote in English; Tenochio knew nothing of Bartlett’s work, was probably not aware of Lavandera’s, and wrote in Spanish; Pinart, though French in blood and mother-tongue, was fully conversant with Spanish, in which his record was made, and apparently knew nothing of the earlier vocabularies; while the Bureau recorder had not seen any of the earlier records and had shadowy knowledge of the existence of two of them only at the time of making his own.

The various collections are completely separate: Lavandera’s record was created in Spanish at Ramirez's request; Bartlett didn’t know about the earlier record and wrote in English; Tenochio was unaware of Bartlett’s work, probably didn’t know about Lavandera’s, and wrote in Spanish; Pinart, although French by heritage and primary language, was fluent in Spanish, in which he made his record, and apparently knew nothing about the earlier vocabularies; while the Bureau recorder hadn’t seen any of the earlier records and only had vague knowledge of the existence of two of them when he was making his own.

Naturally the several vocabularies overlap to a considerable extent, and thus afford means of verification. Those of Bartlett, Tenochio, and Pinart, all obtained from the same informant, are notably consistent, despite the diversity in language on the part of the recorders; and their correspondence with the Bureau vocabulary is hardly less close (except for the comparative absence of terms for alien concepts in the latter record) than their agreement among each other. Accordingly, the linguistic collections, although far less full than would be desirable, are fairly satisfactory so far as vocables are concerned; but unhappily the few short phrases in the Pinart and Bureau collections are quite too meager to elucidate the grammatic structure of the language.

Naturally, the different vocabularies overlap quite a bit, allowing for means of verification. The vocabularies from Bartlett, Tenochio, and Pinart, all obtained from the same source, show notable consistency, despite the differences in language used by the recorders; and their match with the Bureau vocabulary is hardly less close (except for the relative lack of terms for foreign concepts in the latter record) than their agreement with each other. Therefore, the linguistic collections, although far from complete as we would like, are reasonably satisfactory in terms of vocabulary; but unfortunately, the few short phrases in the Pinart and Bureau collections are too limited to clarify the grammatical structure of the language.

The aggregate number of vocables in the several records is some seven hundred. Of these over 97 per cent are apparently distinctive, 297* presenting no resemblance whatever to any other known tongue. The remaining eighteen or twenty terms reveal resemblances to Aryan, Piman, Cochimi, or other alien languages; but of these the majority express Caucasian concepts, familiar enough to the outlaw informant, Kolusio, though generally unfamiliar to Mashém and to other actual inhabitants of Seriland.

The total number of words in the various records is about seven hundred. Over 97 percent of these seem to be unique, showing no similarity to any other known languages. The remaining eighteen or twenty words show some likeness to Aryan, Piman, Cochimi, or other foreign languages; however, most of these express Caucasian ideas, which are well-known to the outlaw informant, Kolusio, but generally unfamiliar to Mashém and the other actual residents of Seriland. 297*

A critical census brings out six vocables presenting phonetic correspondences with those of one or more Yuman dialects, viz., the terms for tongue, tooth, eye, head, blood, and wood or tree. Now, examination of these terms indicates that the first two probably, and the third and fourth possibly, are associative demonstratives rather of mechanical than of vocalic character—e. g., the terms for tooth and tongue are merely directive sounds accompanying the exhibition of the organs, so that while the terms may not be onomatopoetic in ordinary sense, they are instinctively mimetic or directive, in such wise as to indicate that they may well have arisen spontaneously and independently among different primitive peoples; also that they might easily pass from tribe to tribe as an adjunct of gesture-speech. The term for blood is still more decidedly mimetic of the sound of the vital fluid gashing from a severed artery, or of normal pulsation, so that it, too, must be classed as a term of spontaneous development. The Seri term for wood or tree has an apparent analogue, with somewhat different meaning, in the Cochimi alone; but since the knifeless Seri made practically no use of wood in their aboriginal condition, and since the early Jesuit records show that they sometimes transnavigated the gulf and came in contact with the wood-using Cochimi, it seems fair to assume that material and word were borrowed together. A similar suggestion arises in connection with the term for dog; although the Seri have lived from time immemorial in that initial stage of cotoleration with the coyote in which the adult animals are permitted to scavenger the rancherias, they were without domestic dogs until these animals were introduced into northwestern Mexico by the Spaniards, when they apparently absorbed the animal and its name at once from their eastern neighbors of the Piman stock—presumably the Opata, or possibly the Papago, with both of whom the Seri converts and spies were in frequent contact during the Jesuits’ régime at Opodepe, Populo, and Pitic.

A detailed analysis reveals six words that show phonetic similarities with some Yuman dialects, specifically the words for tongue, tooth, eye, head, blood, and wood or tree. Examining these words suggests that the first two are likely associative demonstratives of a more mechanical nature, while the third and fourth could possibly fit into this category. For example, the words for tooth and tongue are simply sounds that accompany the action of showing these organs. Therefore, while these terms might not be onomatopoeic in the usual sense, they are instinctively mimetic or directive. This implies that they could have emerged spontaneously and independently among various primitive groups. They could also have spread from one tribe to another as a part of gesture-based communication. The word for blood is even more clearly mimetic, reflecting the sound of the life fluid gushing from a cut artery or its normal pulsation, so it too should be seen as a term that developed spontaneously. The Seri word for wood or tree has a clear counterpart, though with a slightly different meaning, in the Cochimi language. However, since the knifeless Seri had little use for wood in their original state, and historical Jesuit records indicate that they sometimes crossed the Gulf to interact with the wood-using Cochimi, it seems reasonable to think that they borrowed both the material and the word together. A similar idea arises regarding the word for dog; although the Seri have coexisted with coyotes, allowing them to scavenge around the settlements, they had no domestic dogs until these were brought into northwestern Mexico by the Spaniards. At that time, they seemingly adopted both the animal and the word from their eastern neighbors of the Piman stock—likely the Opata, or possibly the Papago—whom the Seri interacted with frequently during the Jesuit era at Opodepe, Populo, and Pitic.

In weighing the linguistic relations, it is to be remembered that the Seri are distinctive in practically every somatic and demotic character, that they are bitterly antipathetic to aliens, and that their race-sense is perhaps the strongest known. It is also to be remembered that they are zoosematic in esthetic, largely zoomimic in their primitive industries, putatively zoocratic in government, and overweeningly zootheistic in belief; that nearly all observers and recorders of their characteristics have been impressed by both the distinctiveness and the primitiveness of their speech; that this speech abounds in associative demonstratives and instinctive onomatopes to exceptional degree; that 298* they class themselves as much more nearly akin to their bestial associates than to any alien tribe or people; and hence that their speech is necessarily zooglossic in considerable, if not unequaled, measure. It is to be remembered, too, that the law of activital coincidences finds fullest exemplification in lowest culture, as has been already shown, and as the zooglossic character of the Seri speech would imply; so that a considerable proportion of fortuitous resemblances might be anticipated. Finally, it is to be remembered that despite the extreme provinciality connected with their unparalleled race-sense, the folk have been in known contact with Caucasian and Amerind aliens for nearly four centuries, and have been steadily, albeit with exceeding slowness, absorbing alien activities and activital products.

In considering the linguistic relationships, it's important to note that the Seri are unique in nearly every physical and cultural aspect, that they have a strong aversion to outsiders, and that their sense of racial identity is possibly the most intense known. It should also be noted that they are animal-based in their aesthetics, largely imitate animals in their basic industries, likely have animal-centered governance, and are excessively focused on animals in their beliefs; that nearly all observers and recorders of their traits have been struck by both the uniqueness and the primitivity of their language; that their language is rich in associative demonstratives and instinctive sound imitations; that they consider themselves to be much closer to their animal companions than to any foreign tribe or group; and thus their language is necessarily heavily influenced by animal-related terminology to a significant degree, if not more than any others. It's also important to remember that the principle of coincidental correlations is most clearly demonstrated in the most basic cultures, as has already been shown, and as the animal-related nature of the Seri language suggests; thus, a significant number of accidental similarities can be expected. Finally, it’s important to recognize that despite the extreme insularity connected to their unique sense of racial identity, the Seri have had known interactions with Caucasian and Native American outsiders for nearly four centuries, and have been gradually, though very slowly, incorporating external practices and products into their own culture.

In the light of the history and condition of the Seri, a summary of their vocabulary is of much interest. It is as follows:

In light of the history and condition of the Seri, a summary of their vocabulary is very interesting. It is as follows:

Known vocables 700±
Distinctive terms 682±
Terms shared with other tongues 18±
Terms connoting Caucasian concepts 11±
Onomatopes and associative demonstratives
Term shared With the Cochimi 1
Term borrowed from the Piman 1
Total 18±
Total 700±

On weighing this tabulation, in which no allowance is made for coincidences, it becomes evident that the Seri tongue is essentially discrete. The tabulation, accordingly, justifies and establishes the classifications of Pimentel and Orozco y Berra, under which the Seri, with their collinguals, are erected into a distinct linguistic stock.

On reviewing this data, which doesn’t account for coincidences, it’s clear that the Seri language is fundamentally distinct. This analysis supports and confirms the classifications by Pimentel and Orozco y Berra, which categorize the Seri and their related languages as a separate linguistic group.


Pending further research and the completion of the linguistic collections, it is deemed inexpedient to publish the Seri vocabulary in full, though the material has been compared, analyzed, and arranged systematically as was practicable by Mr J. N. B. Hewitt; and his comparative tables and discussions, which comprise all the terms suggesting affinity with Yuman and other aboriginal languages, are appended. His morphologic analyses and comparisons are especially noteworthy in that they demonstrate that the Seri language is essentially different in structural relations—or in its genius—from the Yuman tongues of neighboring territory. 299*

Pending further research and the completion of the language collections, it’s not practical to publish the full Seri vocabulary, even though Mr. J. N. B. Hewitt has compared, analyzed, and organized the material as thoroughly as possible. His comparative tables and discussions, which include all the terms that show connections to Yuman and other Indigenous languages, are attached. His morphological analyses and comparisons are particularly significant because they show that the Seri language is fundamentally different in its structure—or in its nature—from the Yuman languages of the surrounding area. 299*


COMPARATIVE LEXICOLOGY
[By J. N. B. Hewitt]

COMPARATIVE LEXICOLOGY [By J. N. B. Hewitt]

Serian Material
A. Seri vocabulary, McGee, W J, entered in Powell’s Introduction to the Study of Indian Languages, second edition, in November, 1894.
B. Seri vocabulary, Bartlett, J. R., printed blank (180 terms), January 1, 1852.
C. Seri vocabulary, Pinart, A. L., MS. (16½ pp.), April, 1879.
D. Seri vocabulary, Tenochio, D. A., copied by Pimentel, Lenguas Indígenas de México, t. II, Mexico, 1875.
Yuman Material
I. Cochimi vocabulary, Gabb, W. M., printed blank (211 terms), April, 1867.
II. Cochimi vocabulary, Bartlett, J. R., printed blank (200 terms), English and Spanish, subsequent to June, 1852.
III. Cochimi terms in Clavijero, F. J., Historia de la Antigua ó Baja California, 1852.
IV. Cochimi vocabulary and texts in Buschmann, J. C. E., Die Spuren der Aztekischen Sprache, Berlin, 1859.
1. Avesupai vocabulary, Stevenson, Mrs T. E., MS., Oct., 1885.
2. Tonto vocabulary, White, J. B., and Loew, Oscar, MS., 1873-1875.
3. Cocopa vocabulary, Heintzelman, S. P., and Peabody, E. T., printed blank (180 terms).
4. Maricopa vocabulary, Bartlett, J. R., printed blank (180 terms).
5. Maricopa vocabulary, Ten Kate, Dr Herman, MS., May, 1888.
6. Mohave vocabulary, Loew, Oscar, printed in Report on United States Geological Surveys west of the One-Hundredth Meridian, Lieut. G. M. Wheeler in charge, vol. VII.
7. Mohave vocabulary, Mowry, Sylvester, and Gibbs, Geo., printed blank (180 terms), 1863.
8. Hummockhave vocabulary, Heintzelman, S. P., printed blank (180 terms).
9. Mohave vocabulary, Corbusier, W. H., entered in Powell’s Introduction, second edition, in 1885.
10. Hualapai vocabulary, Loew, Oscar, in Report on United States Geological Surveys west of the One-Hundredth Meridian, Lieut. G. M. Wheeler in charge, vol. VII.
11. Hualapai vocabulary, Renshawe, J. H., and Gilbert, G. K., entered in Powell’s Introduction, first edition, 2 copies, in 1878.
12. Kutchan vocabulary, Whipple, in Schoolcraft, Historical and Statistical Information Respecting the History, Condition, and Prospects of the Indians of the United States, pt. II, 118-121.
13. Kutchan vocabulary, Gabb, W. M., printed blank (211 terms), 1867.
14. Diegueño vocabulary, Loew, Oscar, in Report on United States Geological Surveys west of the One-Hundredth Meridian, Lieut. G. M. Wheeler in charge, vol. VII.
15. Diegueño vocabulary, Bartlett, J. R., printed blank (180 terms).
16. Diegueño vocabulary, Mowry, Sylvester, printed blank (180 terms), 1856.
17. H’taäm vocabulary, Gabb, W. M., printed blank (211 terms), 1867. 300*
18. Yavapai vocabulary, Corbusier, W. H., entered in Powell’s Introduction, first edition, in 1873-1875.
19. Yavapai vocabulary, Gatschet, A. S., MS., 1883.
20. M’mat vocabulary, Helmsing, J. S., printed blank (211 terms), 1876.
21. Santa Catalina vocabulary, Henshaw, H. W., entered in Powell’s Introduction, second edition, in 1884.
22. Tulkepaya vocabulary, Ten Kate, Herman, in Gatschet, Der Yuma-Sprachstamm, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, Band XVIII, 1886.
23. Kiliwee vocabulary, Gabb, W. M., printed blank (211 terms), 1867.
24. Diegueño vocabulary, Bartlett, J. R. (Los Angeles), printed blank (180 terms).
24a. Diegueño vocabulary, Henshaw, H. W., entered in Powell’s Introduction, second edition, in 1884.
25. Santa Isabella vocabulary,   Henshaw, H. W., entered in Powell’s Introduction, second edition, in 1893.
26. Hawi Rancheria vocabulary,
27. Mesa Grande vocabulary,

General Discussion

The members of a group of languages called Yuman are spoken in a region comprising a part of the peninsula of Lower California, the southern extreme of California, and the western portion of Arizona. In this group of languages ethnologists have hitherto included that spoken by the Seri Indians and their congeners. But the inclusion of this language rests apparently upon evidence drawn from data insufficient in extent and largely imperfect and doubtful in character. In the following pages this evidence is examined, and the conclusion is reached that it does not warrant the inclusion of the Seri tongue in the Yuman group. The same is true with regard to the Waïkuri (Guaicuri) language, which has been erroneously, it would seem, included in the Yuman stock; for, judging from present available data, it should remain independent until further research shall decide whether it constitutes a stock in itself or belongs to some other stock.

The Yuman language group is spoken in an area that includes part of the Lower California peninsula, the southern tip of California, and the western part of Arizona. Ethnologists have traditionally included the language spoken by the Seri Indians and their related groups in this category. However, the inclusion of this language seems to be based on evidence that is limited, largely imperfect, and questionable. In the following pages, this evidence is analyzed, leading to the conclusion that it does not support including the Seri language in the Yuman group. The same applies to the Waïkuri (Guaicuri) language, which seems to have been mistakenly classified as part of the Yuman family; based on the data currently available, it should remain separate until further research determines whether it forms its own group or belongs to another one.

Moreover, it appears that the principle has been disregarded which requires that, in making lexic comparisons to determine the fact and degree of relationship between one language and another, those vocables having admittedly a common linguistic tradition be carefully and systematically studied before they are juxtaposed to those other terms whose kinship with them is still matter for ascertainment. So comparative lists have been prepared in accordance with this principle.

Moreover, it seems that the principle has been ignored, which states that when making language comparisons to figure out the relationship between one language and another, words that clearly share a common linguistic background should be studied carefully and systematically before comparing them to other terms whose connection is still uncertain. So, comparative lists have been created based on this principle.

Now, one of the most important things revealed by the study of language is that the course of anthropic linguistic development has been from the use of polysematic demonstratives, or what are called pronominative elements by Professor McGee, toward the evolution and differentiation of parts of speech. These vocables, which occur in all languages, are of prime importance in linguistic research because they are chiefly vestigial in character. Presumptively embodying the indefinite thought-clusters of the anthropoid stage in glottic evolution, they project into the speech of the present (the anthropic stage) an outline or epitome of that earlier pronominative plane of thought and speech development. These pronominative elements represent a complex of ideas, comprising person, place, direction, number, time, mode, gender, sex, and case (or relation). In the Iroquoian tongue the pronominative prefix ra-, “he”, signifies “one person of the anthropic gender, male sex, singular number, nominative case, there, now”. Professor McGee in The “Beginnings of Mathematics,” speaking of the paramount egoistic basis of the thought of primitive men, well says: “They act and think in terms of a dominant personality, always reducible to the Ego, and an Ego drawn so large as to stand for person, place, time, mode of action, and perhaps for raison d’être—it is Self, Here, Now, Thus, and Because.”

Now, one of the most important things revealed by the study of language is that the course of human linguistic development has moved from using polysemous demonstratives, or what Professor McGee calls pronominal elements, towards the evolution and differentiation of parts of speech. These words, which appear in all languages, are crucial in linguistic research because they are primarily vestigial in nature. They likely embody the indefinite thought-clusters from the anthropoid stage in language evolution, providing a glimpse into the speech of the present (the human stage) and summarizing that earlier pronominal level of thought and speech development. These pronominal elements represent a complex set of ideas, including person, place, direction, number, time, mode, gender, sex, and case (or relation). In the Iroquoian language, the pronominal prefix ra-, meaning “he,” signifies “one person of the human gender, male sex, singular number, nominative case, there, now.” Professor McGee in The “Beginnings of Mathematics,” discussing the fundamental egoistic basis of primitive thought, aptly states: “They act and think in terms of a dominant personality, always reducible to the Ego, and an Ego drawn so large as to stand for person, place, time, mode of action, and perhaps for reason for being—it is Self, Here, Now, Thus, and Because.”

Now, there are in nature actions, bodies, properties, and qualities requiring definite expression to give clearness and concision to speech, and this need gradually led to the development and use of conceptual expressions resulting in gradual restriction 301* of the multiplication of, and diminution in the number of, pronominative elements. Speech became specific rather than monophrastic and indefinite, and sought to express individual concepts by terms of definite meaning rather than by phrases involving a plurality of concepts and indefiniteness. The monophrasm or pronominative element expressive of several individual ideas is resolved not by a division of the body of the element, but rather by the addition of elements denotive (though primarily connotive) of action, which had been previously wholly or in part symbolized by the pronominative element, or in part inferred from the situation.

Now, in nature, there are actions, bodies, properties, and qualities that need clear and concise expression in speech. This necessity gradually led to the development and use of conceptual expressions, which resulted in a decrease in the number of pronouns. Speech became more specific instead of vague and indefinite. It aimed to express individual concepts with terms that have definite meanings rather than using phrases that include multiple concepts and vagueness. The pronoun that expresses several individual ideas is clarified not by dividing it but by adding elements that denote (though primarily imply) action, which had previously been fully or partially represented by the pronoun or inferred from the context. 301*

Thus it may be seen that these pronominative elements, miscalled pronouns, are not substitutes for nouns, but that the converse statement is the truer one. These elements have been classed together as forming a part of speech in the same category with the noun and the verb; but it has been seen that the pronominative is not at all a part of speech, involving semantically within itself the distinct concepts of several so-called parts of speech. To make this plain, take from the highly differentiated English tongue the following sentences: “I will give you to her. What can it be? The elk is one of the most timid animals that walk.” In the first, I, you, and her respectively show the relation of the three persons indicated, not only to the act of giving but also to the act of speaking, a function that does not belong to nouns; without change of form they express what is called person, number, case, and sex. And it would be extremely difficult, if not absolutely impossible, to supply the nouns for which what in the second and that in the third are substitutes; for in the last, not even a noun and a conjunction will answer. Such in part are the concepts for which the pronominative elements stand and which give them such great vitality.

Thus, it can be seen that these pronouns, often misunderstood as substitutes for nouns, are more accurately described as the opposite. These elements are grouped with nouns and verbs as parts of speech; however, it has been demonstrated that pronouns don't belong to any single part of speech, as they inherently incorporate distinct concepts from several parts of speech. To clarify this, consider these examples from the complex English language: “I will give you to her. What can it be? The elk is one of the most timid animals that walk.” In the first sentence, I, you, and her show the relationships among the three people involved, related not just to the act of giving but also to the act of speaking, which is not a function of nouns; they express person, number, case, and gender without changing form. It would be very challenging, if not completely impossible, to find the nouns that what in the second sentence and that in the third can replace; in the last example, even a noun and a conjunction won't fit. These are some of the concepts that pronouns represent, which give them significant importance.

Along with these pronominative elements go the numerals, which were primarily the products of a process of cancellation of common factors from original expressions connoting the required number; and so when once the abbreviated expressions became usual there was no disposition to displace them, and increasing use making them more definite, rendered them more and more permanent. This in brief is the chief cause of the obstinate persistency of numerals in all known languages. An examination of the accompanying lists of number-names will greatly aid in understanding what is meant. The late Professor Whitney, when discussing these elements in the Aryan or Indo-European family, uses the following instructive language:

Along with these pronouns are the numerals, which primarily emerged from the process of removing common factors from original expressions that indicated the required number. Once these shortened expressions became common, there was no inclination to replace them, and as their use increased, they became more specific and more permanent. This is essentially the main reason why numerals stubbornly persist in all known languages. Looking at the accompanying lists of number names will greatly help in understanding what this means. The late Professor Whitney, while discussing these elements in the Aryan or Indo-European family, uses the following insightful language:

“When, however, we seek for words which are clearly and palpably identical in all or nearly all the branches of the family, we have to resort to certain special classes, as the numerals and the pronouns. The reason of this it is not difficult to point out. For a large portion of the objects, acts, and states, of the names for which our languages are composed, it is comparatively easy to find new designations. They offer numerous salient points for the names-giving faculty to seize upon; the characteristic qualities, the analogies with other things, which suggest and call forth synonymous or nearly synonymous titles, are many. * * * But for the numerals and the pronouns our languages have never shown any disposition to create a synonymy. It was, as we may truly say, no easy task for the linguistic faculty to arrive at a suitable sign for the ideas they convey; and when the sign was once found, it maintained itself thenceforth in use everywhere, without danger of replacement by any other of later coinage. Hence, all the Indo-European nations, however widely they may be separated and however discordant in manners and civilization, count with the same words and use the same personal pronouns in individual address—the same, with the exception, of course, of the changes which phonetic corruption has wrought upon their forms.”332

“When we look for words that are clearly and obviously the same across all or nearly all branches of the family, we need to turn to specific classes, like numbers and pronouns. The reason for this is pretty straightforward. For many of the things, actions, and states that make up our languages, it's relatively easy to find new names. There are plenty of distinctive features, similarities with other things, and qualities that suggest or lead to synonymous or almost synonymous terms. * * * But when it comes to numbers and pronouns, our languages have never really created synonyms. It’s fair to say that it wasn’t easy for the language system to come up with a suitable sign for the ideas they represent; and once that sign was established, it stayed in use everywhere, without risk of being replaced by any newer terms. As a result, all the Indo-European nations, no matter how far apart they are or how different their cultures and customs may be, use the same words for counting and the same personal pronouns for addressing individuals—except for the changes that phonetic corruption has made to their forms.”332

And it is on account of the great vitality and persistency of these two groups of vocables that the pronominative elements and the numerals have been given first place in the comparison between the Seri and the Yuman tongues to determine relationship or want of relationship between the two languages. 302*

And it's because of the strong vitality and persistence of these two groups of words that the pronouns and the numerals have been prioritized in the comparison between the Seri and Yuman languages to figure out their relationship or lack thereof. 302*

Comparative Lists of Serian and Yuman Pronouns

In the pronominal lists the eight pronominatives I, we, thou, ye, he, they, that, and this are compared. The comparison reveals no satisfactory evidence of relationship between the two tongues represented therein. In the list headed “Thou”, there is, it is true, a vague resemblance between some of the examples cited; but this is the extent of the agreement among the pronominative elements.

In the pronoun lists, the eight pronouns I, we, you, ye, he, they, that, and this are compared. The comparison shows no convincing evidence of a connection between the two languages represented. In the section titled “You,” there is, admittedly, a vague similarity between some of the examples given; however, this is the extent of the agreement among the pronoun elements.

Along with these pronominal lists comparative tables of fifty conceptual terms have also been made. The vocables have been subjected to a discriminating analysis which fails to show any trustworthy evidence of genetic relationship between the Seri and the Yuman languages. These tables will be found at the end of the numeral lists.

Along with these pronoun lists, comparative tables of fifty conceptual terms have also been created. The words have undergone a careful analysis, which doesn't provide reliable evidence of a genetic relationship between the Seri and the Yuman languages. These tables can be found at the end of the numeral lists.

The comparative pronominal lists follow:

SERIAN
I We Thou Ye
B. ive óve me move
C. eve, ivve ove me movve
D. ibe, i, in
YUMAN
I. ya e-é ba me-é
II. bu kélballa mu mugutí
2. nyaa mági maa yamakámvi
4. n’yep b’dowwaánge man n’yátches
5. enyip mateshehámk mainye hanyís
7. inyeeippa mahinye
8. ainyapi ainyepi howanye inak
9. inyétc inyétcabĭtc mantc mantcawitc
6. iniepa huatcva manya
10. anyáa maa
12. n’yat mantz
13. nyet nyetchelechaml manya koonyemitch
14. inyau ikhin nyau vuyau-khumau
24. n’ya n’yawaâp ma n’yawaâp
16. enyahpah n’yeahpah mahpah
17. nyat nawot mat manyawapa
19. nyät, nía mät mad
20. n’ñép mañ mandchequedíc
22. nyá nyaä´ mätche
23. nyapa panyapa m’apa pamaba
15. n’yàpa n’yawa m’apa m’awa
SERIAN
He They That This
B. imk’ move (for imkove) imke ipké
C. imki imkove imki
D. itam itam
YUMAN
I. kwumba k’hu
II. ugutá ugultí ugutá yamú
2. ma bémi, maniûsi owá bémi, n’wagi
4. v’dán awatches abányim b’dan303*
5. sewaínye hanyís wedaín sewaín
6. huványa hoványe vitanya
7. mánya paichsama kuucha, “What do you say?” n’yaveoh
8. howanméeme nayew howai howanmiimi
9. huvatce iuyéteawĭntc nyanya viçanya
10. nyuée viyáa
12. habuitzk
13. abilkoowan sakewauk nyasl badam
14. itcham kitchámuyú piyáa
15. pu pu-wîiptch pu-witch p’yà
16. memuchu nepte
17. nyip nyeep kooacha mop
19. net íet, iät iät, íet
20. abáñ s’tubáñ s’tubáñ cezáñ, vedáñ
22. yetháha nihátchewa
23. ẖápa pachawit nyepat miẖi
24. maîs mawápa púaisis piyaís

Serian Numeral Vocabulary Lists

The following comparative table of Serial numerals represents all the accessible number-names in existing records of Serian linguistic material. M Pinart records two lists of number-names from “one” to “ten”, and says of the first list, “Quando se cuenta seguido”, for counting consecutively.

The following comparative table of Serial numerals shows all the available number names in the current records of Serian language materials. M Pinart includes two lists of number names from "one" to "ten," and he notes about the first list, “Cuando se cuenta seguido”, for counting consecutively.

It will be of interest to note the fact that the forms of the digit “eight”, in the vocabularies of Professor McGee and Mr Bartlett, with the latter’s “eighteen”, differ wholly from the elements representing “eight” in their terms for “eighty”. The term employed by them is recorded by M Pinart in his second list and also by Sr Pimentel. Another peculiarity to be noted in the vocabulary of Mr Bartlett is the fact that for the numbers “thirteen” and “eighteen” he writes the same form. The latter is evidently miswritten, as the two are composed of identical elements. The explanation of this seems to be that in the former there is a subaudition of the element “ten”, and in the latter of the element “fifteen”.

It’s interesting to note that the way the digit “eight” is expressed in the vocabularies of Professor McGee and Mr. Bartlett, along with Mr. Bartlett’s use of “eighteen,” is completely different from how “eight” is represented in their terms for “eighty.” The term they use is recorded by M. Pinart in his second list and also by Sr. Pimentel. Another notable aspect of Mr. Bartlett's vocabulary is that he uses the same form for “thirteen” and “eighteen.” This appears to be a mistake, as the two are made up of the same elements. The explanation for this seems to be that in the case of “thirteen” there is an implied component of “ten,” while “eighteen” has an implied component of “fifteen.”

It is equally instructive to mark the fact that the terms denoting “two, three, four, five” retain or preserve their fuller forms in their multiples, as in “twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty”.

It’s also interesting to note that the words for “two, three, four, five” keep their full forms in their multiples, like “twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty.”

The lists follow:

Please provide the lists for modernization.

McGee Pinart Bartlett Pimentel (citing
Tenochio
)
1. tó‘χun tokχom tashsho tohom taso, tujon
2. ghá‘kom kaχ´kum kookχ´ kahom kokjl, kujom
3. pháum p’χ´ao kapχ´a phraom kupjtku
4. sâ´hkūm shoχ´kum kshuχ´kŭă scochhom {kosojkl
{kosojhl
5. kwáetūm kuaotom kooχtom huavat’hom kouton
6. náhpsūk napshoχ´ imapkasho napk’schoch snapkashroj
7. káhkwūū kaχkχue tomkaχkue kachqhue tomkujkcui
8. páhkwūū p’χakχue kshoχolka phraque osrojoskum
9. ksókhŭnt soχanthe ksovikanlχ´ sohántl ksobbejoaul
10. khóhnŭtl χonalχ´ kanlχ´ honachtl taul
11. tantasóque
12. tanchltoque
13. tanchtaphraqhue
14. [tanchltascochhom]333 304*
15. tanchlhuavat’hom
16. tanchlischnapk’schoch
17. tanchltumkachqhue
18. tanchlphraqhue
19. tanchlsóvihantlqhue
20. ŭntçkō´k kanlχ´kookχ´ eanslkoch taul jaukl
30. ŭntçkō´pka eans’lkapka
40. ŭntçksō´k eans’lscoch
50. ŭntçkóitum eanslkovat’hom
60. ŭntçěsnŭpkŭ´schōp eansly’schnapk’schoch
70. ŭntçtŭngŭ`kwŭ´k eansltumkachqhue
80. ŭ´ntçkuschohotkŭm eanslhschoholchkom
90. ŭntçksegŭnt eanslsovikakt’l
100. ŭntçgŭntl hiantlkantl taul taul
200. ŭnz-ŭ´ntç-kō´k
300. ŭnz-ŭntç-kŏ´pka
400. ŭnz-ŭntç-kŭkschō´k
500. ŭnz-ŭntç-kóitum
600. ŭnz-ŭntç-ŭsnŭpkŭ´schos
700. ŭnz-ŭntç-diŭnkwŭŭk
1000. ŭnz-untç kŭ´nz

Yuman Numerals Vocabulary Lists

Kiliwee (23) Cochimi (I) Cochimi (III) Cochimi (IVa) Laymon (IVb)
1. mesig 1. chaqui 1. tepeeg 1. tejueg (in 5 tejuep) dujvenidi, dujuenidi 1. tejoe
2. ẖooak 2. kooak 2. goguó 2. goguò 2. gowac, kawam, kamoe=”the other”
3. ẖamiak 3. kabiak 3. combió 3. kombio, kambiec, combiec, cambiec 3. kamioec
4. mnok = “(fingers) down” 4. ic̲h̲kyum- kooak 4. magacubuguá 4. magacubuguà 4. nauwi
5. sol chepam 5. nyaki-vampai 5. naganná tejueg ignimel= “una mano entera”334 5. naganna- tejuep=“one hand” 5. hwipey
6. m’sig-eleepai 6. ic̲h̲kyum-kabiak 6. kamioec kawam= “two three”
7. ẖooak-eleepai 7. chaquera-vampai 305*
8. ẖamiak-eleepai 8. nyaki-vam-ivapai
9. m’sigk-tkmat 9. quac̲h̲era-vampai
10. chepam-mesig 10. nyavani-chaqui; no contamos mas adelante.” 10. naganna-iñimbal-demuejeg=all the fingers”
11. mesigk-malha.
12. ẖooak-malha
15. naganna-iñimbal-demuejeg agannapa=“all fingers, foot”
20. chepamẖooak 20. naganna-agannapa-inimbal-demuejeg= “fingers, toes, all”
30. chepamẖoomiak
40. chepam-misnok
50. mesig quinquedit-sol-chepam
60. chepamme-sig quinqueditme-sigelepaip
70. chepam mesig quinqueditẖooak-elepaip, etc.
Mohave (6) Hualapai (10) Tonto or Gohun (2) Diegueño (14)
1. aséentik sitik sisi, shiti khink
2. havik hovak uake óak
3. hamok hamok moke hamok
4. tchungbabk hobá hôba tchibabk
5. harabk hatábuk satabé selkhakai
6. siyinta tasbek geshbé niugushbai
7. viiga hoágeshbek hoageshbe niokhoak
8. muugá hamúgeshbek mogeshbe niokhamuk
9. paaya halathúig halseye nitchibab
10. aráabá vuáruk uave selghiamát
11. aséentik nitauk sitigiálaga uave-shiti niekhin
12. havik nitauk hovaktiálik uave-uake niekhvabgushbaib
20. ará-bavik-takavuts-havík vavahovak uake-uave selghhoák
30. arábavik-takavuts-hamók vavahamok moke-uave
40. hōba-uave
50. satabe-uave

306*

306*

Comparative Lists of Serian and Yuman Numerals

Comparative Lists of Serian and Yuman Numbers

ONE

Serian
A. tó`χun, stem to`χ-
B. tohom, stem toh-, or toχ-
C. tokχom, stem tokχ-, tashsho, stem tash-
D. taso, stem tas-, tujon, stem tuχ-, “first”
Yuman
I. chaqui, chaχ´-, or χaχ´-
II. dopí
24. h’in
25. h`in, ě`hĭnk`
14. khink
23. mesig, -sig (?)
7. sayto
9. seto
12. aiséntic, sin
27. sin
6. aséentik
15. shen
5. shendíb
20. shéntic
4. ashentik
17. shin
16. asshin, shin
3. shitti
13. sin
26. ěssin
8. issintaich
2. sisi
19. sísi
1. sita
22. sité
18. síti
10. sitik
21. ĕsítika
11. sitta
III. tejueg, tepeeg
IV. tejoe, tejueg, tejuep, dujuenidi, dujvenidi

In examining the Serian column, it is apparent that the several forms for the numeral “one” are homogeneous, their varying outlines being due to the language of the collector, and especially to the alphabet employed by him. An apparently aberrant form is the tashsho (C) and taso for tashsho (D). The stem of the digit is presumptively to`χ- or tokχ-; and tash- is related to tokχ- in the same manner as duchess is to duke in the English tongue.

In looking at the Serian column, it's clear that the different forms of the numeral “one” are similar, with their varying shapes reflecting the language of the collector and particularly the alphabet he used. An apparently unusual form is the tashsho (C) and taso for tashsho (D). The base of the digit is likely to`χ- or tokχ-; and tash- is related to tokχ- in the same way that duchess is related to duke in English.

The Yuman column is more extensive than the Serian, representing as it does several well-marked dialects. It will be seen that the Diegueño terms for the digit “one” collected by Mr Bartlett (15) and Lieutenant Mowry (16) are evidently from a common stem, while that recorded by Dr Loew (14) is as clearly from a different one. But the Diegueño term (24) obtained by Bartlett near Los Angeles is apparently a modified form of the one obtained by Dr Loew. The two forms (25) obtained by Mr Henshaw at Mesa Grande confirm this view. While these forms apparently differ wholly from the remainder of the Yuman list, yet it seems safe to connect them with the Cochimi digit (I) collected by Dr Gabb. On the other hand, the Cochimi of 307* Bartlett (II) introduces another term which appears to be kin to the Laymon (III, IV). The remainder of this list presents modified forms of a single vocable, which appears to have been a demonstrative. Compare these with Mohave asě´ntěnte, “an other”, and sěnta, “the other one”; also with the Yavapai sĭ´temi, “an other”, and with děspě-bĭka, “other, the other one”.

The Yuman column is larger than the Serian one, as it includes several distinct dialects. It appears that the Diegueño words for the digit "one," gathered by Mr. Bartlett (15) and Lieutenant Mowry (16), clearly come from a common origin, while the term noted by Dr. Loew (14) obviously comes from a different source. However, the Diegueño term (24) collected by Bartlett near Los Angeles seems to be a modified version of the one recorded by Dr. Loew. The two terms (25) collected by Mr. Henshaw at Mesa Grande support this idea. Although these terms seem entirely different from the rest of the Yuman list, it seems reasonable to link them with the Cochimi digit (I) gathered by Dr. Gabb. Conversely, the Cochimi term from Bartlett (II) introduces another term that looks related to the Laymon (III, IV). The rest of this list shows modified versions of a single word, which seems to have been a demonstrative. Compare these with Mohave asě´ntěnte, "another," and sěnta, "the other one"; also with Yavapai sĭ´temi, "another," and děspě-bĭka, "other, the other one."

TWO

Serian
A. ghá`kum, gha`k-
B. kahom, kah- or kaχ-
C. kaχ´kum, kaχk., kookχ´, kookχ´
D. kokjl, kokχ-, kujom, kuχ-
Yuman
II. goguo
III. goguó
IV. gowac (Laymon); kawam; kamoe,=“the other”
22. guwáke
7. habeeka
4. habíck
15. habíck
20. jubíc (j as in Spanish)
6. havik
12a. havick
9. havíka
21. hawáka
12b. hawick
13. hawik
18. hěwáki
5. χawík
23. ẖooak
10. hovak
3. howōck
17. howok
16. ẖowuk
8. howwaich
19. huáka
1. huwaka
24. h’wach
11a. hwaga
25. kawŭ´k
26. kawŭ´k
14. óak
2. uake
11b. wága
I. kooak

The Serian examples of the digit “two” are of such phonetic character as to warrant the inference that they are derivatives from a single phrasm of demonstrative origin, the differences in their orthography being due chiefly to the language and training of the collectors and to the difference in the alphabets employed. There is evidently phonetic and sematic relationship between the stem of this digit and the -kak in such demonstrative elements as ish-kak, “here (where I am), now, then”; ikχ´-kaka, “near”; imk-ahaka for imk-kaka, “there where he, she, is, they are”; akki-kak, “whither? to-where? whence?“; toχ´-kaka, “far, distant, far off”; and also with iki in akki-iki, “where?”. In these examples the affix akki- has an interrogative force. The meaning of -kak is that of contiguity or proximity to the Here, the Self.

The Serian examples of the digit "two" are phonetic enough to suggest they come from a single phrase of demonstrative origin, with differences in how they're written mainly due to the language and training of the collectors and the variations in the alphabets used. There’s clearly a phonetic and semantic connection between the root of this digit and the -kak in demonstrative elements like ish-kak, “here (where I am), now, then”; ikχ´-kaka, “near”; imk-ahaka for imk-kaka, “there where he, she, is, they are”; akki-kak, “whither? to where? whence?”; toχ´-kaka, “far, distant, far off”; and also with iki in akki-iki, “where?”. In these examples, the prefix akki- has a questioning force. The meaning of -kak refers to closeness or proximity to the Here, the Self.

Now, the fuller Yuman list presents several forms seemingly closely accordant, phonetically at least, with the Serian terms, but these being merely divergent representatives of the distinctively Yuman term which does not accord with the Serian 308* form, are of no avail to prove relationship. The available material pertaining to this group supplies but scant data for ascertaining the derivation of the Yuman digit. But, in addition to the connection of the Laymon gowac, with kawam, “the other”, it may be that it is permissible to compare here owá (2), “that” in Tonto, the Mohave huvá-nya (6), “he, that”, the Hummockhave howa-nméeme (8), “he”, and howai (8), “that”, the Mohave huva-tce (9), “he”, the Kutchan habu-itzk (12), “he”, the Kiliwi hapa (23), “he”, and other terms, which suggest its origin. From the foregoing explanations, there appears to be no lexic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman digits denoting “two”.

Now, the complete Yuman list shows several forms that seem to closely match the Serian terms, at least phonetically. However, these are just different versions of the uniquely Yuman term that doesn't align with the Serian form, so they don't help prove any relationship. The available information about this group offers very little data for figuring out the origin of the Yuman digit. Still, besides the connection of the Laymon gowac with kawam, meaning “the other,” it might be relevant to compare owá (2), meaning “that” in Tonto, the Mohave huvá-nya (6), meaning “he, that,” the Hummockhave howa-nméeme (8), meaning “he,” and howai (8), meaning “that,” the Mohave huva-tce (9), meaning “he,” the Kutchan habu-itzk (12), meaning “he,” the Kiliwi hapa (23), meaning “he,” and other terms that suggest a possible origin. From the above explanations, it seems there is no lexical relationship between the Serian and Yuman digits signifying “two.”

THREE

Serian
A. pháum, phá-
B. phraom, phra- or phχa-
C. p´χ´ao, p´χa-, kapχ´a, kapχ-
D. kupjtku, kupχ-
Yuman
IV. cambiec, combiec
II. combió
III. combió
I. kabiak
IV. {kambiec, kamioec, kombiec} (Laymon)
23. ẖamiak
4. hamóck
24. hamock
15. hamôk
6. hamok
25. hamō´k
26. hamō´k
10. hamok
7. hamoka
9. hamóka
3. hamoke
12. hamóok
21. hamúka
22. hamúke
18. hěmúki
14. hamok
17. ẖomook
8. homuck
16. hummoke
1. humuga
20. jamóc (j as in Spanish)
5. χamú´k
11. (ha)moga
2. moke
19. móki
13. mook

The Serian forms of the name for the digit “three” are evidently derivatives from a single term. This vocable appears to be emahk, “one-half” (McGee), found also in the name for the middle finger as given by both Professor McGee and M Pinart, the former writing ŭnulte-mŭ´ka`p, and the latter inol´l´emakkap, “middle finger”. In the Iroquoian languages also, “three” is etymologically “the middle one”, i. e., the middle finger, a signification arising from the primitive method of using the fingers as counters in numeration. The middle finger is the third one counting from 309* either side of the hand. The form kapχ´a (C) of M Pinart apparently retains almost unchanged its primitive phonetic outline.

The Serian versions of the name for the digit “three” clearly come from a single root word. This term seems to be emahk, meaning “one-half” (McGee), which is also found in the name for the middle finger as noted by both Professor McGee and M Pinart. McGee writes it as ŭnulte-mŭ´ka`p, while Pinart uses inol´l´emakkap for “middle finger.” In the Iroquoian languages, “three” is etymologically “the middle one,” referring to the middle finger—a meaning derived from the ancient practice of counting using fingers. The middle finger is the third one counted from either side of the hand. The form kapχ´a (C) from M Pinart appears to have kept its original phonetic structure almost completely intact.

The Yuman list of the dialectic forms of the digit “three” is full and is evidently composed of derivatives from a single source. This parent stem seems to be the attributive hami, “tall, long”, of the Mohave vocabulary. The form hamiak signifies “it is long, tall”, and is an appropriate name for the middle finger of the hand. The Kiliwee ẖamiak, “three”, still preserves unchanged the phonetic integrity of its component elements. These etymologies fail to develop any lexic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

The Yuman list of the different forms of the number "three" is complete and clearly comes from a single source. This primary root appears to be the descriptive term hami, meaning “tall, long,” from the Mohave language. The form hamiak means “it is long, tall,” and is a fitting name for the middle finger of the hand. The Kiliwee ẖamiak, meaning “three,” still retains the original sounds of its parts. These word origins do not show any lexical connection between the Serian and Yuman terms.

FOUR

Serian
A. sâ´hkŭm, sâ´hk-
B. scochhom, scochh-
C. shoχ´kum, shoχ´-, ksuχ´kŭă, ksuχk-
D. kosojkl, kosoχk-, kosojhl, kosoχh-
Yuman
8. chaimpap´k
12. chapóp
24. chepap
7. choompapa
13. ch´pap
17. ch´pop
4. chumpáp
15. chumpáp
16. chupop
20. chuumpáp
3. s´pap
5. styumpáp
26. tcăpáp
14. tchibabk
6. tchungbabk
9. tcimpápa
2. hôba
10. hobá
11. hoopbá
1. hópa
18. hopá
19. hópa
21. hopá
22. hupá
I. ic̲h̲kyum-kooak, (= iχ´kium-kuak)
II. maga-cubuguá
III. maga-cubuguá
23. mnox (?), “(fingers) closed, lying together”
IV. nauwi (Laymon)

The Serian examples of the digit “four” are evidently mere variants of a common original, the derivation and signification of which the meager linguistic material at hand seems not to supply. In no manner do these forms accord with those of the Yuman list below, thus barring any inference of relationship.

The Serian examples of the digit “four” are clearly just variations of a common original, the origins and meanings of which the limited linguistic material available does not seem to provide. These forms do not match those of the Yuman list below, which rules out any suggestion of a relationship.

The Yuman list presents apparently only three different terms for the digit “four”. Without the means of obtaining even a partially accurate view of the historical development of such a form as the Mohave chaimpap´k (8), it is nevertheless instructive to compare it with the Cochimi ic̲h̲kyum-kooak (I), the literal meaning of which is “two repeated”. This apparently gives a clew to both the derivation and signification of the Mohave term. The initial chiam- is seemingly a modified form of the prefix ic̲h̲kyum-, signifying “repeated, again, iterated”. If this identification be correct, as it certainly seems to be, then the final -pap´k is the duplicated 310* form of the numeral “two”, the variants of the stem of which are as follows: hub-, hob-, hav-, and hab-. This chaim- changes to cha-, che-, choom-, chu-, chuum-, styum-, tcim-, tchi-, ch’-, s’-, and tchung-, while pap’k appears as pop, pap, and papa. The next stem is that of the Tonto hôba (2), which is apparently cognate with the verb hobam, “to set, lie down”, like the sun and moon, referring to the fact that when the fingers are “all lying down” the count is “four”. The following six terms are apparently cognate with this Tonto form. The Cochimi (I) has already been mentioned. Its final kooak is the numeral “two”, and the prefix, as explained above, signifies “repeated, again, iterated”. The next two forms (II) and (III) are apparently composed of the iterative, or rather additive, prefix maga-, “added, over”, and a form of the Cochimi numeral “two”, goguò. The Kiliwi mnok signifies “lying together, closed”, as the fingers, thus approximating in sense the Tonto hôba, above.

The Yuman list shows apparently only three different terms for the number “four.” Without a way to gain even a partially accurate understanding of the historical development of a term like the Mohave chaimpap´k (8), it is still helpful to compare it to the Cochimi ic̲h̲kyum-kooak (I), which literally means “two repeated.” This seems to provide insight into both the origin and meaning of the Mohave term. The beginning chiam- appears to be a modified version of the prefix ic̲h̲kyum-, meaning “repeated, again, iterated.” If this connection is correct, which it certainly seems to be, then the final -pap´k is the duplicated form of the numeral “two,” with variations in its stem being: hub-, hob-, hav-, and hab-. This chaim- changes to cha-, che-, choom-, chu-, chuum-, styum-, tcim-, tchi-, ch’-, s’-, and tchung-, while pap’k shows up as pop, pap, and papa. The next stem is from the Tonto hôba (2), which seems to be related to the verb hobam, “to set, lie down,” like the sun and moon, indicating that when the fingers are “all lying down,” the count is “four.” The following six terms also seem to be related to this Tonto form. The Cochimi (I) has already been mentioned. Its ending kooak is the numeral “two,” and the prefix, as described earlier, means “repeated, again, iterated.” The next two forms (II) and (III) are likely made up of the iterative, or more accurately additive, prefix maga-, meaning “added, over,” and a version of the Cochimi numeral “two,” goguò. The Kiliwi mnok means “lying together, closed,” as with fingers, which thus comes close in meaning to the Tonto hôba mentioned above.

FIVE

Serian
A. kwáetūm, kwáe-tūm
B. huavat’hom, kova-t`hom
C. kuaotom, kuao-tom, kooχtom, kooχ-tom
D. kouton, kou-ton
Yuman
8. hairrap’k
6. harabk
22. herápe
18. hěrä´pi
10. hatábuk
11. hûtápa
2. satabé
IV. hwipey (Laymon)
II. muguacogüi
III. naganná tejueg ignimel=“one whole hand”
IV. naganna tejuep=“one hand”
I. nyakivampai
9. çarhápa
7. tharrapa
4. saráp
5. saráp
13. sarap
15. saráp
17. sarap
24. sarap
20. saaráp
16. sarrap
14. selkhakai
12. seráp
21. seräpa
19. sarápi
23. sol-chepam
3. s’rap

The several forms of the Serian numeral “five” appear to be derivatives from a common original. There seems to be no doubt that it is a compound expression, meaning “one full, complete (hand)”. The final -tūm, -t’hom, -tom, and -ton are evidently forms of tó`χun, tohom, tokχom, meaning “one”, while the initial kwáe-, huava-, (kova- in “fifty”), kooχ-, and kou- are apparently derived from the term kov’, occurring in ishshaχ´ kov’, “full, complete moon”.

The different forms of the Serian numeral “five” seem to come from a common source. There’s no doubt that it’s a compound term that means “one full, complete (hand)”. The endings -tūm, -t’hom, -tom, and -ton are clearly variations of tó`χun, tohom, tokχom, meaning “one”, while the beginnings kwáe-, huava-, (kova- in “fifty”), kooχ-, and kou- seem to come from the word kov’, which appears in ishshaχ´ kov’, “full, complete moon”.

In the Yuman list, however, there are several different stems employed to designate the digit “five”. The forms sarap, seráp, harabk, and hairrap’k are clearly variants of a single original. Its literal signification, however, is not so evident, but from the data at hand the inference is warranted that it signifies “entire, whole, complete”. In the Mohave of Dr Corbusier hi-sal koçar̃ápa signifies “the 311* whole hand”, and “fingers”, koçar̃ápa being also written kothar̃ápa. Now, hi-sal means “his hand”, and koçar̃ápa or kothar̃ápa would soon lose its initial ko-, from the wear to which it is subjected. In hatábuk, hûtápa, and satabé a new stem is to be recognized; it signifies “to grasp”, or rather “grasps”, and is found in aauwa sataba, “fire-tongs”, in which, aauwa means “fire” and sataba “to hold, take hold”. The reference here is to the clasped hand as signifying the digit “five”, because in counting the fingers are bent down upon the palm of the hand, the result being a closed or clasped hand. Now, in selkh-akai and sol-chepam, a form of the usual säl, “hand”, occurs, and -akai and -chepam have presumptively a signification semantically equivalent to koçar̃apa and sataba in the preceding Yuman examples, but the meagerness of the material at hand prevents the setting forth of the data necessary to prove this conjecture; yet it may be stated that if the term “hand” is a constituent element of the name for the digit “five”, it is because of the fact that the fingers and the thumb thereof are in number “five”, so that “the entire hand, the whole hand, the complete hand”, may become the name for the digit “five”. Hence, when the word hand is an element of the name thereof, as it is in the present instance, it is presumptively certain that some word like “entire, complete, whole, clasped, bent down”, must form the other element of the compound. The Cochimi (II) muguacogüi is seemingly a combination of mugua for the cognate humuga, “three”, and cogüi for goguó, “two”. And the Cochimi (I) nyakivampai is a compound of gi-nyak, “hand” [mi-nyak, foot], and some element denoting the completion of the count of the digits of one hand, -i-vampai or vampai. The Cochimi (III) and (IV) are self-explanatory, naganna, signifying “hand”, while Laymon (IV) is not explainable from the accessible data. These analyses fail to show genetic relationship between the two lists, in so far as the digit “five” is concerned.

In the Yuman list, there are several different roots used to represent the number “five.” The forms sarap, seráp, harabk, and hairrap’k are clearly variants of a single original. Its literal meaning, however, isn't so clear, but based on the evidence available, it's reasonable to conclude that it means “entire, whole, complete.” In the Mohave language, Dr. Corbusier notes that hi-sal koçar̃ápa means “the whole hand,” and “fingers,” with koçar̃ápa also written as kothar̃ápa. Here, hi-sal translates to “his hand,” and koçar̃ápa or kothar̃ápa would likely drop its initial ko- due to wear. In hatábuk, hûtápa, and satabé, we identify a new root that means “to grasp,” or more accurately, “grasps.” This can be seen in aauwa sataba, which means “fire-tongs,” where aauwa is “fire” and sataba means “to hold, take hold.” The reference here is to the clenched hand, representing the number “five,” because when counting, the fingers are bent down against the palm, resulting in a closed or clasped hand. In selkh-akai and sol-chepam, a form of the usual säl, meaning “hand,” is found, and -akai and -chepam likely have a meaning similar to koçar̃apa and sataba in the previous Yuman examples. However, the limited data available prevents us from proving this hypothesis; it can still be stated that if the term “hand” is part of the name for the digit “five,” it’s because the fingers and thumb total “five.” Therefore, “the entire hand, the whole hand, the complete hand” can be the name for the digit “five.” When the word hand is part of that name, as in this case, it’s reasonable to assume that some word like “entire, complete, whole, clasped, or bent down” must form the other part of the compound. The Cochimi (II) muguacogüi seems to combine mugua from the related humuga, meaning “three,” and cogüi from goguó, meaning “two.” The Cochimi (I) nyakivampai is made up of gi-nyak, meaning “hand” [mi-nyak, meaning foot], and an element indicating the completion of counting the digits of one hand, -i-vampai or vampai. The Cochimi (III) and (IV) terms, naganna, which means “hand,” are straightforward, while Laymon (IV) is not interpretable based on the available data. These analyses do not establish a genetic relationship between the two lists concerning the digit “five.”

SIX

Serian
A. nahpsūk
B. napk’schoch
C. napshoχ´, imapkasho
D. snapkashroj
Yuman
2. geshbe
3. hamhoke
13. hoomahook
17. hoomahook
15. humhôck
16. humhoke
12. humhóok
24. humhock
4. humhóque
20. joumjóc (j as in Spanish)
5. χemχúk
I. ic̲h̲kyum-kabiak
IV. kamioec kawam=2×3
8. maike-sin-kenaich
23. m´sig-eleepai
14. niu-gushbai
25. kumhōk
26. kŭmhok
7. seeinta
9. siínta
6. siyinta
18. dě-spé
10. ta-sbe-k
19. tě-shbé
21. te-shpě´-k
22. te-zpé
11. tû-spě´
1. tü-rspe

312*

312*

The given forms of the Serian digit “six” are evidently mere variants of a common original, which seems quite naturally to have been composed of the stem -apka of the numeral “three”, and of both a prefix and a suffix. The prefixes, for there are two, are, to judge from the one in imapkasho, demonstrative in character. It may be compared with im- in imk´, “he”; imke, “that”; imkove, “they”; imki, “that”, in which it appears to be a directive prefix. And the initial n- and sn- may be cognate in origin. But the final -sūk, -’schoch, -shoχ´, -sho, and -shroj, according to the audition or otosis of the collector, must mean “repeated, doubled, again”, etc., or an equivalent. Hence, the Seri number “six” would be literally “three repeated”.

The different forms of the Serian digit "six" are clearly just variations of a common original, which likely consisted of the root -apka from the numeral "three", along with both a prefix and a suffix. There are two prefixes, which based on the one in imapkasho, seem to have a demonstrative meaning. It can be compared to im- in imk´, "he"; imke, "that"; imkove, "they"; imki, "that", where it appears to serve as a directional prefix. The initial n- and sn- might also be related in origin. However, the final forms -sūk, -’schoch, -shoχ´, -sho, and -shroj, based on the collector's interpretation, likely mean "repeated, doubled, again", or something similar. Therefore, the Seri number "six" would literally mean "three repeated".

In the Yuman column at least eight different elements are involved in the formation of the digit “six” in the several dialects of the group. The digits “two” and “three” compose the larger portion of the forms, resulting in such outlines as hamhoke, hoomahook, humhoke, humhóque, χemχúk, kumhok. Hamok (10), “three”, is a characteristic form of this digit, and ẖooak (23), habick (4), and kuáka (19), óak (14), uake (2), are characteristic outlines of the digit “two”. Compare these two lists. The final -k; of the numeral “three” is elided in composition, as it is merely a predicative element, as has been indicated in discussing the Yuman digit “three”; hence, ham- or hum-, symbolizing “three”, with the suffixion of such forms as ẖooak, huáka, or uake, “two”, readily becomes humnhoke or hamhoke, literally “two threes”. In such forms as geshbe (2), despé (18), and niugushbai (14) there occurs a common element -shbe, -spé, or -shbai, which evidently signifies “added, over, plus”, just as -eleepai does in m´sig-eleepai (23), “six”, literally “one added, one more than”. The ge- or -g- in (2) is evidently the final g of the Kiliwi form of the numeral one, mesig, m´sig, which may have at one time been the digit “one” in the Tonto (2); so that geshbe or g-eshbe stands for an earlier měsig-eshbe, “six”, literally “one added (to five)”. The term de-spé is evidently a contracted form of siínta-spe, “one added”, as the other similar forms show. Compare ta-sbe-k (10) and siínta, (9) and siyinta (6), in the last two of which the suffix is wanting or at least overlooked by the collector. In ic̲h̲kyum-kabiak (I) the digit kabiak, “three”, occurs, so that ic̲h̲kyum, must mean “repeated, again, iterated”, just as it was shown in the remarks on the digit four. Now, the form maike-sin-kenaich is, perhaps, an ordinal and not a cardinal. The initial maike- signifies “more, over, added, plus”, the final -kenaich is the doubtful part, and the middle portion -sin- is a contracted form of sinta, siínta, “one”, as may be seen in the list of the Yuman forms of the digit “one”. One other form remains to be considered. The Diegueño (14) of Dr Loew has niu-gu-shbai (the syllabication is the writer’s, showing the elements of the combination). An examination of the digits “seven”, “eight”, and “nine” reveals the fact that the initial niu- has the value of “added, over, plus, in addition to”, five. But it has been seen that the ending -shbaí has a like signification. The only reasonable explanation of this anomaly is that like the Tonto (2) g-eshbe, it owes its origin to the term represented by the Kiliwi měsig; and, moreover, it seems to be a dialectic loan-word. If the term geshbe (2) was adopted as meaning six, supplanting, it may be, an earlier form like hamhoke, the force of analogy, to assimilate this to the other forms, namely, of “seven”, “eight”, and “nine”, would affix the regular dialectic prefix niu- (or nio-). These explanations and analyses of the diverse forms of the numeral “six” reveal no relationship between the Serian and the Yuman groups.

In the Yuman column, there are at least eight different elements that contribute to the formation of the digit “six” in various dialects of the group. The digits “two” and “three” make up the majority of the forms, resulting in shapes like hamhoke, hoomahook, humhoke, humhóque, χemχúk, and kumhok. Hamok (10), meaning “three”, is a typical representation of this digit, while ẖooak (23), habick (4), kuáka (19), óak (14), and uake (2) are standard forms representing the digit “two”. Compare these two lists. The final -k of the numeral “three” is dropped when combined, as it is just a linking element, as discussed regarding the Yuman digit “three”; therefore, ham- or hum-, indicating “three”, combined with forms like ẖooak, huáka, or uake, “two”, easily turns into humnhoke or hamhoke, literally meaning “two threes”. In forms like geshbe (2), despé (18), and niugushbai (14), a common element -shbe, -spé, or -shbai can be seen, which seems to mean “added, over, plus”, just like -eleepai in m´sig-eleepai (23), “six”, literally “one added, one more than”. The ge- or -g- in (2) is obviously the final g from the Kiliwi numeral for one, mesig, m´sig, which might have originally represented the digit “one” in Tonto (2); thus, geshbe or g-eshbe stands for an earlier měsig-eshbe, “six”, literally “one added (to five)”. The term de-spé is clearly a shortened form of siínta-spe, meaning “one added”, as shown by other similar forms. Compare ta-sbe-k (10) and siínta (9) and siyinta (6), in which the suffix is absent or at least overlooked by the compiler. In ic̲h̲kyum-kabiak (I), the digit kabiak, “three”, appears, so ic̲h̲kyum must mean “repeated, again, iterated”, as shown in the comments about the digit four. Now, the form maike-sin-kenaich is possibly an ordinal rather than a cardinal. The initial maike- means “more, over, added, plus”, the final -kenaich is uncertain, and the middle part -sin- is a shortened form of sinta, siínta, “one”, as can be seen in the Yuman listings for the digit “one”. One other form needs to be reviewed. The Diegueño (14) of Dr. Loew includes niu-gu-shbai (the syllabication is the writer’s, indicating the elements of the combination). Analyzing the digits “seven”, “eight”, and “nine” shows that the initial niu- means “added, over, plus, in addition to”, five. However, the ending -shbaí also means something similar. The only reasonable explanation for this oddity is that like the Tonto (2) g-eshbe, it originates from the term represented by the Kiliwi měsig; in addition, it appears to be a dialectal borrowed word. If geshbe (2) was adopted to mean six, possibly replacing an earlier form like hamhoke, the need for analogy to connect this with the other forms, namely “seven”, “eight”, and “nine”, would attach the regular dialect prefix niu- (or nio-). These explanations and analyses of the various forms of the numeral “six” show no relationship between the Serian and Yuman groups.

SEVEN

Serian
A. kahkwūū
B. kachqhue
C. kaχkχue, tomkaχkue
D. tomkujkeui
Yuman
22. hawake-zpé
18. hěwakě-spé
10. hoáge-shbe-k
2. hoage-shbe
19. huáké-shpë
11. hwag-spě, hwagû-spě313*
1. waka-spe
23. ẖooak-eleepai
8. maik-kewikenaich
14. nio-khoak
20. paajkék
13. pahkae
17. pahkai
5. paχkyèk
21. pakai
24. pakai
3. pakha
16. parkai
4. patchkieque
12. pathcayé
I. chaquera-vampai
7. bee-eeka
9. víka
6. viiga

It is evident that the forms of the Serian digit “seven” are variants from a common source, and it is equally apparent that the numeral “two” is the basis for the term. The several examples of this numeral are ghá`kum, kahom, kaχ´kum, kookχ´, in which the final -um, or -om appears to be a suffix; in the term for “twenty” Professor MeGee writes ŭntçkō´k; in which the final kō´k is the term denoting “two”, and in which the final -um or -om is wanting, which probably indicates that it is a flexion. Now, it is seen that this numeral “seven” terminates in the syllable -wūū, -ue, and -ui, in direct contrast with, the termination of the digit “two”. The material at hand is too limited to determine whether this final syllable should be -wūū, -ue, -ui, or -kwūū, -kue, -kui. It apparently signifies “added, over, plus”, or some equivalent term. To attain economy of utterance the term denoting “five” was omitted from the original statement, “two added to five”, as the expression of the number seven, and so “two added” became the name of the number “seven”. An initial tom, tum, tŭn, or diŭn occurs in the names for 7, 17, 70, and 700. An evident derivative from the name for “hand”, it denotes “five”. It is a cognate of ŭnt in ksókhŭnt “nine”, literally “four-five”, and also with tanchl in Mr Bartlett’s numbers 12-19; the correct form for “seven”, it would seem, should have been tan`l kaχkue, etc., “five-two-added-on”; its initial t is identical with thet in t-aul (t-anl?), “ten”. The difference in the endings of this prefix—the difference between an m and an n—may easily be explained. In the several vocabularies it is seen that one collector fancied he heard an m sound, while another, equally careful, heard an n sound. The fact appears to be that it is an obscure nasal sound, which may readily be taken either for an m sound or an n sound by the heteroglot. In Bartlett’s list of numerals tan-tasó-que signifies “eleven”, wherein tasó- is the numeral “one”, as given by both M Pinart and Sr Tenochio, tan- the prefix under discussion, and -que the suffix mentioned above, which was regarded as signifying “added, more, plus”.

It’s clear that the forms of the Serian digit “seven” come from a shared source, and it is equally clear that the numeral “two” is the foundation for the term. The various examples of this numeral are ghá`kum, kahom, kaχ´kum, kookχ´, where the final -um or -om appears to be a suffix; in the term for “twenty,” Professor MeGee writes ŭntçkō´k, where the final kō´k represents “two,” and the absence of -um or -om probably indicates a form change. Now, it’s seen that this numeral “seven” ends with the syllables -wūū, -ue, and -ui, in direct contrast with the endings of the digit “two.” The material available is too limited to determine whether this final syllable should be -wūū, -ue, -ui, or -kwūū, -kue, -kui. It seems to signify “added, over, plus,” or something similar. To save on words, the term for “five” was left out of the original statement, “two added to five,” to express the number seven, and so “two added” became the name for the number “seven.” An initial tom, tum, tŭn, or diŭn appears in the names for 7, 17, 70, and 700. Clearly derived from the word for “hand,” it signifies “five.” It’s related to ŭnt in ksókhŭnt “nine,” literally “four-five,” and also with tanchl in Mr. Bartlett’s numbers 12-19; the proper form for “seven” seems to have been tan`l kaχkue, etc., meaning “five-two-added-on”; the initial t matches the t in t-aul (t-anl?), “ten.” The difference between the endings of this prefix—the difference between an m and an n—is easy to explain. In the various vocabularies, it’s shown that one collector thought he heard an m sound, while another, equally careful, heard an n sound. The reality appears to be that it’s a faint nasal sound, which can easily be perceived as either an m or an n sound by someone unfamiliar. In Bartlett’s list of numerals, tan-tasó-que means “eleven,” where tasó- is the numeral “one,” as given by both M. Pinart and Sr. Tenochio, tan- is the prefix under discussion, and -que is the suffix mentioned above, which was thought to mean “added, more, plus.”

The first eight terms of the Yuman list are clearly modified forms of a single original combination, which is apparently still retained nearly unchanged in the Yavapai (18) of Corbusier, hěwakě-spé. The signification and function of the final -spé have been discussed in the remarks on the probable derivations and meanings of the Yuman names for “six”. The given conceptual element is evidently the term hěwakě-, “two”. And -spé, as has been ascertained, signifying “added, more, plus”, etc., the expression literally means “two added”, i. e., to five, which is here understood, but unnecessary, since “two added” has acquired the meaning “seven”, originally expressed by the entire proposition. The Kiliwee (23) term ẖooak-eleepai, “seven”, has literally the same meaning as the terms last under discussion. It will be seen that the conceptual element is the term ẖooak;, “two”, which is only another form 314* of hěwakě, treated above. Now, it is mathematically certain that if “two” be an element of the concept “seven”, it must be added to some preceding number that will produce the result sought, and this number is of course five. So it is presumptively certain that the element -eleepai must mean “added, laid onto, superadded, subjoined”. The Hummockhave (8) maik-kewik-enaich is composed of the conceptual element kewik, “two”, the prefix maik- meaning “more, over”, and the suffix -enaich (or -kenaich), which seems to be an ordinal or distributive flexion. So that “two over, added”, is here likewise the expression for the numeral “seven”. The next form, the Diegueño (14) of Dr Loew is another example of the use of the numeral “two” with different flexions, to express the number “seven”. An examination of this Diegueño list of numerals shows that in such a form as nio-khoak, “seven”, the initial nio- is a prefix signifying “added, in addition to”, etc., while the khoak is a form of the numeral “two”. The next ten forms, while apparently derivative from a common source, are difficult of explanation from the material at hand. The same may be said of the last four, three of which are evidently cognate and are very probably shortened forms of the original represented by the first group in the list. Take, for example, a form like (22) hawake-zpé, and drop the final -zpé, as is done in some of the terms in the “eight” list, and also the initial ha-, and the result is a form wake, which in the dialects (6) and (9) would become viiga, víka, which is the form of the digit “two” in these dialects. The form (7) bee-eeka is also merely the digit “two” of this dialect without any index to show that it is not “two” rather than “seven”. The same thing is to be noticed in the Serian lists, in which the form for thirteen is in all respects the same as that for the numeral “eighteen”, both apparently meaning merely “three added”.

The first eight terms of the Yuman list are clearly variations of a single original combination, which seems to be almost unchanged in the Yavapai (18) of Corbusier, hěwakě-spé. The meaning and function of the final -spé have been discussed in the notes on the likely origins and meanings of the Yuman names for “six”. The conceptual element is clearly the term hěwakě-, which means “two”. And -spé, as determined, means “added, more, plus”, etc., so the expression literally translates to “two added,” i.e., to five, which is understood here but unnecessary, since “two added” has come to mean “seven,” originally indicated by the whole proposition. The Kiliwee (23) term ẖooak-eleepai, meaning “seven,” has the same literal meaning as the previous terms. You can see that the conceptual element is the term ẖooak, meaning “two,” which is just another form of hěwakě, discussed above. Now, it’s mathematically clear that if “two” is part of the concept “seven,” it must be added to some preceding number to reach the desired result, which is, of course, five. Therefore, it’s quite likely that the element -eleepai means “added, laid onto, superadded, subjoined”. The Hummockhave (8) maik-kewik-enaich consists of the conceptual element kewik, meaning “two”, with the prefix maik- meaning “more, over”, and the suffix -enaich (or -kenaich), which seems to be an ordinal or distributive inflection. Thus, “two over, added” also refers to the numeral “seven”. The next example, the Diegueño (14) from Dr. Loew, is another instance where the numeral “two” is used with different inflections to express the number “seven”. A look at this Diegueño list of numerals shows that in a form like nio-khoak, “seven,” the initial nio- is a prefix meaning “added, in addition to,” etc., while khoak is a version of the numeral “two.” The next ten forms, while seemingly derived from a common source, are hard to explain with the available material. The same goes for the last four, three of which are clearly related and likely shortened versions of the original represented by the first group in the list. For instance, take a form like (22) hawake-zpé, and drop the final -zpé, as some terms in the “eight” list do, and also the initial ha-, resulting in wake, which in the dialects (6) and (9) would become viiga, víka, representing the number “two” in those dialects. The form (7) bee-eeka is also just the digit “two” in this dialect with no indication that it stands for “seven” instead. The same observation applies to the Serian lists, where the form for thirteen is identical to that for “eighteen,” both seemingly meaning just “three added.”

EIGHT

Serian
A. páhkwūū
B. phraque
C. kshoχolka, p’χakχue
D. osrojoskum (osχ´oχoskum?)
Yuman
23. ẖamiak-eleepai
10. hamúge-shbe-k
22. hamuke-zpé
18. hěmukě-spé
18. hěmukě-spé
11. hmaga-spe
1. humuga-spe
2. moge-shbe
19. múkě-shpë
9. móka
7. moo-ooka
6. muugá
16. chip-hoke
12. chip-hóok
21. hipp-óka
3. sep-hoke
13. seepa-hook
4. sepp-óque
5. sep-χúk
15. sepp-ôck
17. shepa-hook
20. siip-jóc (j=χ)
25. tcěp-hōk
26. tcěp-hōk
8. maike-homok-enaich
14. nio-khamuk
24. pakai-hin-awach
I. nyakivamivapai

315*

315*

The Serian numeral “eight” is expressed by two different terms. The first is based on the numeral three, and the second on the digit four. The former is the remaining factor of an original expression which signified by uttered elements “three added to five (=the full hand)”, but the need for economy of expression led to the suppression of the uttered element denoting “five”, as soon as the shorter “three added” acquired the usual signification of “eight”. The basis of the digit is kō´pka or kapχ´a, “three”, with the suffix -kwūū (-kχue, -que), presumably denoting “added, plus”. This represents the usual method of forming this digit. The second term, kshoχolka, is that which is presumably based on the numeral “four”. This is the form given by M Pinart. But Sr Pimentel, citing Sr Tenochio, writes this osrojoskum, which at first sight appears to be quite different from the other; yet the r of the latter evidently stands for a modified χ and the j for a χ, and making these substitutions the term becomes osχ´oχoskum, which is approximately the form in which Professor McGee and Mr Bartlett wrote this digit in the numeral “eighty”. Now, it is self-evident that if the element “four” constitute a factor in the combination denoting “eight”, it must be added to itself by addition or multiplication, and the result will be the same in either event. The final -olka appears also as -otkŭm, -olchkom, and -oskum, in these Serian vocabularies, either in the numeral “four” or its multiples. The origin and signification of this ending are not clear; but taking into consideration the great variations in the spelling of its recorded forms, especially in so far as the consonant sound preceding the k-sound is concerned, it may not be presumptive to adopt the s-sound (though sχ´ may be more correct) as that which represents approximately at least the true sound, for it varies from l, t, lch, to s. And it has been seen that the final -um is a flexion denotive of serial or consecutive counting and so not a part of the stem. Then it is seen that -s-k- (the last two hyphens representing uncertain vowels) is the termination requiring explanation. Now, it is probable that this termination is identical in meaning and origin with the -sūk, -shoχ, -sho, -schoch, and -shroj (= -shχ´oχ) terminating the forms of the digit “six”. If this identification be correct (and there is no present reason to doubt it), it signifies “repeated, again, duplicated”, as was suspected and stated in the discussion of the forms of the numeral “six”. So granting this derivation to be correct, kshoχolka, then, signifies “four repeated”, which of course denotes “eight”.

The Serian word for "eight" has two different terms. The first comes from the word for three, while the second comes from four. The first term is a leftover from the original phrase that meant "three added to five (the full hand)," but to keep it simple, the part saying "five" was dropped, and "three added" became understood as "eight." The base of this term is kō´pka or kapχ´a, which means "three," with the suffix -kwūū (-kχue, -que), which likely means "added" or "plus." This is the usual way of forming this number. The second term, kshoχolka, is probably based on "four." This is the version given by M. Pinart. However, Sr. Pimentel, referencing Sr. Tenochio, uses osrojoskum, which at first glance seems quite different. Still, the r in this version likely represents a modified χ and the j stands for a χ as well. If we replace these letters, it becomes osχ´oχoskum, similar to how Professor McGee and Mr. Bartlett wrote this number in "eighty." It's clear that since the element "four" is a part of the combination for "eight," it must be either added to itself or multiplied, and the outcome will be the same in both cases. The ending -olka also appears as -otkŭm, -olchkom, and -oskum in these Serian vocabularies, relating either to the number "four" or its multiples. The origin and meaning of this ending are unclear. However, considering the many variations in how it's spelled, especially regarding the consonant sound before the k-sound, it seems reasonable to adopt the s-sound (though sχ´ might be more accurate) as it likely represents the true sound, which can vary from l, t, lch, to s. Additionally, the final -um is a form indicating serial or sequential counting and isn't part of the root. Therefore, the -s-k- (with the last two hyphens showing uncertain vowels) is the ending that requires clarification. It’s likely that this ending means the same as the terms -sūk, -shoχ, -sho, -schoch, and -shroj (= -shχ´oχ) that end the forms of the number "six." If this connection is correct (and there’s no reason to doubt it), it indicates "repeated, again, duplicated," as was suggested in the analysis of the numeral "six." So if we accept this derivation, kshoχolka means "four repeated," which, of course, stands for "eight."

In the Yuman list, the first eleven forms are evidently composed of the numeral “three” and a suffix signifying “added, plus, more than”, but the last three of the group want this suffix, a fact due perhaps to the fault of the collector rather than to linguistic development. The terminations -eleepai and -shbe-k and its variants have already been explained when treating of the numeral “seven”. And the twelve forms beginning with chip-hoke (16) are variants from a common original composed of the numerals “two” and “four”. It will be readily seen that chip- in such a form as chip-hoke is a contraction of a form such as tchibabk (14), “four”, chepap (24), “four”, as may be seen in the Yuman list of terms for the digit “four”. Now, the next portion of the term is -hoke, which is but a slightly disguised numeral “two”, as may be seen by reference to the schedules of the numeral “two”. Compare ẖooak (23), huáka (19), uake (2), and hěwáki (18), all signifying “two”. Now, the next term, maike-homok-enaich (8), is a combination of maike, “above, over, more than”, homok, “three”, and the ending -enaich (or -kenaich), which may be either an ordinal or a distributive flexion. The form nio-khamuk (14) is a combination of the prefix nio-, signifying “added, above, or more than”, and the conceptual term khamuk, “three”, the expression signifying “three over, or added to”. The next two examples are evidently irregular, if not spurious. The form pakaikhin-awach is composed of pakai, “seven”, khin-, “one”, and the suffix -awach, “added to”. Now, the last, the Cochimi nyaki-vamivapai, appears to be erroneous. It contains the term nyaki for ginyaki, “hand”, but the remainder of the expression is composed of elements that are not comparable to anything in the meager material at present accessible. The Serian and the Yuman terms herein show no relationship. 316*

In the Yuman list, the first eleven forms clearly include the numeral “three” and a suffix meaning “added, plus, more than,” but the last three in the group lack this suffix, likely due to an error by the collector rather than linguistic evolution. The endings -eleepai and -shbe-k and its variations have been explained when discussing the numeral “seven.” The twelve forms starting with chip-hoke (16) are variations of a common original made up of the numerals “two” and “four.” It’s easy to see that chip- in a form like chip-hoke is a shortened version of a form like tchibabk (14), “four,” chepap (24), “four,” as can be seen in the Yuman list of terms for the digit “four.” The next part of the term is -hoke, which is just a slightly altered numeral “two,” as shown by the references to the numeral “two.” Compare ẖooak (23), huáka (19), uake (2), and hěwáki (18), all meaning “two.” Now, the next term, maike-homok-enaich (8), is a combination of maike, meaning “above, over, more than,” homok, “three,” and the ending -enaich (or -kenaich), which can be either an ordinal or a distributive form. The form nio-khamuk (14) combines the prefix nio-, meaning “added, above, or more than,” with the conceptual term khamuk, “three,” representing “three over, or added to.” The next two examples are clearly irregular, if not incorrect. The form pakaikhin-awach consists of pakai, “seven,” khin-, “one,” and the suffix -awach, meaning “added to.” The last term, the Cochimi nyaki-vamivapai, seems to be a mistake. It contains the term nyaki for ginyaki, “hand,” but the rest of the expression consists of elements that don’t compare to anything in the limited material currently available. The Serian and Yuman terms provided show no relationship. 316*

NINE

Serian
A. ksókhŭnt, ksókh-ŭnt
B. sohántl, soh-ántl
C. soχanthe, soχ-anthe, ksovikanlχ´
D. ksobbejoaul (j=χ)
Yuman
9a. hailyuthu
1. halathuya
11. halathúya
10. halathúig
22. halesúwi
19. halěsúyi
2. halseye
18. húlěthúyi
3. hamhinmoke
13. hoomhoomook
17. hoomhoomook
15. humhummôck
4. humhummóque
12. humhamóok
21. hŭmhummúka
20. jumjamúç (umχamúk?)
5. χemχemúk
8. muke
16. n’yimhummoke
26. nĭmhŭmmōk
23. m’sigk-tkmat
14. nitchibab, (ni(o)tchibab)
6. paaya
7. paeeya
9b. páia
I. quac̲h̲era-vampai

The first three Serian terms for “nine” are evidently forms of a common original, signifying “four added to five”. It is evident that ksō´kh- in (A) ksō´kh-ŭnt is the same element as -ksō´k in ūnçtksō´k, “forty”, and -kschō´k in ŭnz-untçkŭkschō´k, “400”. The element -ŭnt here is a name for “five”. Its literal meaning is “hand”, which may be gathered from the following citations: ŭnol´k=“hand”; mĭ´noŭl´t=“arm”; ŭnulte-mŭ´ka`p=“middle finger”, in which ŭnulte means “finger (or hand)”. These are from the vocabulary of Professor McGee. Then M Pinart records innolχ´, “arm”, intlash “hand”, inol’tis, “finger, index finger”, inol’tip “ring finger”. And Mr Bartlett writes inoyl, “arm”, inossiskersk, “hand”, inosshack, “fingers”. This -ŭnt will be further treated when the numeral “ten” is under discussion.

The first three Serian terms for “nine” clearly come from a common origin, meaning “four added to five.” It's clear that ksō´kh- in (A) ksō´kh-ŭnt is the same as -ksō´k in ūnçtksō´k, meaning “forty”, and -kschō´k in ŭnz-untçkŭkschō´k, meaning “400”. The element -ŭnt here refers to “five”. Its literal meaning is “hand,” which can be understood from the following citations: ŭnol´k = “hand”; mĭ´noŭl´t = “arm”; ŭnulte-mŭ´ka`p = “middle finger,” where ŭnulte means “finger (or hand)”. These come from Professor McGee's vocabulary. Then M Pinart records innolχ´, meaning “arm,” intlash meaning “hand,” inol’tis, meaning “finger, index finger,” and inol’tip meaning “ring finger.” Mr Bartlett writes inoyl, meaning “arm,” inossiskersk, meaning “hand,” and inosshack, meaning “fingers.” This -ŭnt will be discussed further when the numeral “ten” is analyzed.

While it is evident that the first eight forms of the Yuman list are but variants from a common original, it is not, however, so clear what the original signification of the combination was. But as there can not be any question of relationship between these and the Serian terms, this fact will not affect the result of this study. The next terms of the Yuman list are variants of an entirely different combination of elements. The forms (15) humhum-môck and (12) humhamóok may be taken as characteristic of these terms. Now, it is plain that there is here duplication of the stem hum- or ham-, “three”, making the literal sense of the combination to be “three threes”, which of course gave the required meaning. The Cochimi (23) m’sigk-tkmat contains the element m’sig, “one”, and the final tkmat, which appears to mean “lacking, wanting, or less”. And in the Diegueño (14) nitchibab for niotchibab a still different method of expressing “nine” is found. In discussing the numeral “seven” and “eight” the signification of the initial nio- was ascertained to be “added to, over, plus”, and tchibab is of course the numeral “four”. The original expression, then, was “four added to five”, producing the required number, “nine”. The next three forms, though evidently cognate, are, like the first group, not analyzable 317* from the data to be obtained from the meager material at present accessible. The last form is doubtful. These analyses show no relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

While it's clear that the first eight forms of the Yuman list are just variations of a common original, it's not as clear what the original meaning of the combination was. However, since there's no question of a relationship between these and the Serian terms, this fact won't affect the outcome of this study. The next terms in the Yuman list are variations of a completely different combination of elements. The forms (15) humhum-môck and (12) humhamóok can be seen as representative of these terms. It's obvious that there’s a repetition of the root hum- or ham-, meaning “three”, which makes the literal sense of the combination “three threes”, therefore giving the intended meaning. The Cochimi term (23) m’sigk-tkmat includes the element m’sig, meaning “one”, and the ending tkmat, which seems to mean “lacking, wanting, or less”. In the Diegueño term (14) nitchibab for niotchibab, a different method of expressing “nine” is found. When discussing the numerals “seven” and “eight,” the meaning of the prefix nio- was found to be “added to, over, plus,” while tchibab is the numeral “four.” Therefore, the original expression was “four added to five,” resulting in the number “nine.” The next three forms, although clearly related, cannot be broken down using the limited data currently available. The last form is uncertain. These analyses indicate no relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

TEN

Serian
A. khóhnŭtl, khóh-nŭt´
B. honachtl, ho-nachtl
C. χonalχ´, χo-nalχ´, kanlχ, ka-nlχ´
D. taul (tanl?)
Yuman
6. aráabá
9. arháp
7. arrapa
8. raphawaich
18. buwáwi
1. huwava
19. uábi
2. uave
11. uwawa, (h)wáwa
10. varuk, vuáruk
22. wáwe
3. sahhoke
12. sahóohk
21. sahóka
13. sauhook
15. shahôck
20. shahahjóc (j=χ)
4. shahóque
5. shaχúk
16. sharhoke
17. shauhook
14. selgh-iamát
23. chepam-mesig
III. naganna ignimbal demuejueg=“todas las manos”
I. nyavani-chaqni

The Serian forms of the numeral “ten” are apparently cognate, being composed, it would seem, of the same elements. Thus they are mere variants of a common original expression, signifying, literally, “two fives”, or what originally was the same thing, “two hands”.

The Serian forms of the numeral “ten” are clearly related, made up of the same components. They are essentially variations of a common original expression, meaning, literally, “two fives,” or what used to refer to the same thing, “two hands.”

The element khóh- in (A) khólnŭut’ represents ghá‘k:(kha‘k) or kō´k, as it is also written, signifying “two”, and -nŭt’ is the slightly disguised name for “hand” and “finger”, being also transcribed as -nachtl, -nalχ´, -nlχ, and lastly -aul. Compare these carefully with the words denoting “arm, hand, finger”, in this language, and it will be seen that the spelling of khóh- varies in the several vocabularies from khóh-, ho-, χo-, to ka-, respectively. The derivation of the t, or rather , in taul of Sr Tenochio, is not evident, but seems to be cognate with the prefix tom-, tum-, tŭn-, or diŭn-, already noticed, making taul thus signify “five added”, i. e., to five, and so producing “ten units”. Such seems to be the evident resolution of the Serian names for the numeral “ten”. But taul may have been miswritten for ta-an`l.

The element khóh- in (A) khólnŭut’ represents ghá‘k:(kha‘k) or kō´k, which means “two,” and -nŭt’ is a slightly disguised term for “hand” and “finger,” also written as -nachtl, -nalχ´, -nlχ, and -aul. If you compare these with the words for “arm, hand, finger” in this language, you'll notice that the spelling of khóh- changes across different vocabularies from khóh-, ho-, χo-, to ka-, respectively. The origin of the t, or more specifically , in taul of Sr Tenochio is unclear, but it seems related to the prefixes tom-, tum-, tŭn-, or diŭn-, as previously noted, which would make taul mean “five added,” or essentially “five plus,” leading to “ten units.” This appears to be the clear explanation for the Serian names for the numeral “ten.” However, taul might have been mistakenly written for ta-an`l.

The first four terms of the Yuman list are plainly based on the numeral “five”, expressed by sarap. The form raphawaich (8) is evidently a shortened form of saraphowwaich, literally “two fives”, or, what was the same thing at the beginning, “two hands”. The first term, sarap, signifies “five, finger”, denotively, but its literal or connotive signification is “entire, whole, full, complete, collectively”, a meaning which was suggested in the discussion of the numeral “five”. And howwaich is the form of the digit “two” in this dialect. 318*

The first four terms of the Yuman list are clearly based on the number “five,” represented by sarap. The term raphawaich (8) is obviously a shortened version of saraphowwaich, literally meaning “two fives,” or, in another sense from the beginning, “two hands.” The first term, sarap, means “five, finger,” in a straightforward way, but its deeper or implied meaning is “entire, whole, full, complete, collectively,” a concept that was mentioned in the discussion of the number “five.” And howwaich represents the number “two” in this dialect. 318*

The next nine forms are so contracted, irregular, and, perhaps, miswritten that an analysis of them is a matter of doubt and difficulty, but the following ten terms are cognate and signify “two fives (hands)”, or, denotively, “ten”. In the comparative list of names for the “arm, hand, finger”, etc., shah, shawas, shawarra, and eesarlya are a few of the many variants of säl, “arm, hand, finger”, etc. So, in such a form as sahhoke (3) the sah is the name for “hand” and hoke is the numeral “two”, the combination signifying “two fives, hands”, or “ten”. The other nine terms are but variants of the original of this compound. In selgh-iamát (14), selgh for isalgh is the element denoting “hand”, or “five”, while iamat means “added to, upon, over”, there being the subaudition of the element denoting “five”. Hence the original combination meant “five added to five”, or “ten”. This is a strict application of the quinary system.

The next nine forms are so shortened, irregular, and maybe even misspelled that analyzing them is a matter of uncertainty and difficulty. However, the following ten terms are related and mean “two fives (hands),” or simply “ten.” In the comparative list of names for “arm, hand, finger,” etc., shah, shawas, shawarra, and eesarlya are just a few of the many variations of säl, meaning “arm, hand, finger,” etc. For instance, in a form like sahhoke (3), sah refers to “hand” and hoke is the numeral “two,” combining to signify “two fives, hands,” or “ten.” The other nine terms are merely variations of the original compound. In selgh-iamát (14), selgh from isalgh indicates “hand” or “five,” while iamat means “added to, upon, over,” implying “five” as well. Therefore, the original combination meant “five added to five,” or “ten.” This is a clear use of the quinary system.

The Kiliwee term, chepam-mesig (23) signifies literally “one chepam”. If reference be made to the “five” list, it will be seen that there sol-chepam signifies “five”, or, to be exact, is the translation of the term “five”. Now, the element sol- of this compound is a variant of esal, “hand”, while chepam, judging from analogy, must signify “the whole, entire, the complete”, collectively “all”. Moreover, the Kiliwee terms for “fingers (dedos)” and “toes (dedos del pié)”are salchepa and emechepah, respectively, wherein the element chepah is added to esal, “hand”, and to eme, “leg”. Hence it may be inferred that chepam-mesig signifies “one complete count of all the fingers”, and so “ten”. The next is Cochimi, in which naganna means “hand”, and the last term (I) appears to be miswritten. It will be seen from these partial analyses of the names for the digit “ten” that there is no linguistic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

The Kiliwee term, chepam-mesig (23), literally means “one chepam.” If you look at the “five” list, you’ll see that sol-chepam means “five,” or to be precise, it translates to “five.” Now, the element sol- in this compound is a variation of esal, meaning “hand,” while chepam, based on analogy, must signify “the whole, entire, the complete,” or collectively “all.” Furthermore, the Kiliwee terms for “fingers” and “toes” are salchepa and emechepah, respectively, where chepah is added to esal, “hand,” and to eme, “leg.” Thus, it can be inferred that chepam-mesig means “one complete count of all the fingers,” which signifies “ten.” Next is Cochimi, where naganna means “hand,” and the last term (I) seems to be incorrectly written. From these partial analyses of the names for the digit “ten,” it’s clear that there is no linguistic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

ELEVEN

Serian
A.
B. tan-tasó-que
C.
D.
Yuman
6. aséentik-nitauk
8. sienti
1. sita-giala
10. siti-giálaga
18. siti-kwaä´hli
11. sitta-gálla
3. sahhoke-shitti
4. shahóque-maga-shentick
20. shahajóc umaig ashénd
2. uave-shiti
19. uáveshíti
5. maik-shendík
13. mae-sint
21. emmiá-shiti-ki
23. mesigk-malha
14. nie-khin

The only Seri example of the numeral “eleven” is that which was recorded by Mr Bartlett, who writes it tan-ta-só-que, instead of tan-tasó-que, which exhibits the component elements of this compound. This expression signifies “one added to, or, over, upon”. Its conceptual base is the numeral tasó, “one”. The initial tan- has already been discussed while treating of the numeral “seven”. It was there made a cognate of the initial tom- or tum- of the several examples of that digit, and likewise of tanchl in Mr Bartlett’s numbers 12-19. It would seem that the correct form for “eleven” should be tanchl-tasóque, i. e., “ten-one-added-on”. Where “hand” is the name for “five” and is an element in the name for “ten” there arises confusion, unless there is marked difference between the two expressions. 319*

The only known example of the numeral “eleven” in Seri is the one recorded by Mr. Bartlett, who writes it tan-ta-só-que, instead of tan-tasó-que, which shows the component parts of this compound. This expression means “one added to” or “over” or “upon.” Its conceptual base is the numeral tasó, “one.” The prefix tan- has already been discussed in relation to the numeral “seven.” It was identified as related to the prefix tom- or tum- found in various examples of that digit, and also related to tanchl in Mr. Bartlett’s numbers 12-19. It appears that the correct form for “eleven” should be tanchl-tasóque, meaning “ten-one-added-on.” When “hand” means “five” and is part of the term for “ten,” it can cause confusion unless there’s a clear distinction between the two terms. 319*

In the Yuman list the first fourteen examples of the numeral “eleven” have some form of the digit aséentik (sita, siti, sint, shiti), “one”, as the dominant element in the expression, while the elements denoting “added to, more than, plus”, are severally as follows: in the first -nitauk, in four others a variant of -giala, in five others the prefix maga- (umaiga, emmiá, mae); while in some such a flexion is entirely wanting, probably, at least in a majority of the forms, because of misapprehension on the part of the several collectors rather than the abrasion of use. But in mesigk-malha (23) mesigk denotes “one”, and malha “plus, added to”. In the form nie-khin (14), khin signifies “one”, and the prefix nie-, “plus, added”. It will be noticed that the flexion maga (umaiga, mae, emmiá) is a prefix to the element “one”, and so when shahoque, “ten”, is expressed as in (4) it stands between the two notional terms. But in (8) neither “ten” nor an element denotive of addition is expressed.

In the Yuman list, the first fourteen examples of the numeral “eleven” include some form of the digit aséentik (sita, siti, sint, shiti), meaning “one,” as the main component of the expression, while the terms indicating “added to, more than, plus” vary as follows: in the first, it’s -nitauk, in four others a variant of -giala, and in five additional cases, the prefix maga- (umaiga, emmiá, mae); in some cases, this variation is totally missing, likely because of misunderstandings by the different collectors, rather than being due to reduced usage. However, in mesigk-malha (23), mesigk means “one,” and malha means “plus, added to.” In the form nie-khin (14), khin means “one,” and the prefix nie- means “plus, added.” It’s worth noting that the flexion maga (umaiga, mae, emmiá) is a prefix to the term “one,” so when shahoque, meaning “ten,” is expressed as in (4), it appears between the two conceptual terms. But in (8), neither “ten” nor a term indicating addition is present.

TWELVE

Serian
A.
B. tanchltoque, tan-chlt-oque
C.
D.
Yuman
6. havik-nitauk
11. hawā-gálla
18. hěwakě-kwä´hli
10. hovak-tiálik
23. ẖooak-malha
1. huwaga-giala
21. emmiá-hawáka
13. mae-hewik
5. maik-χawík
19. uá-hoáki
2. uave-uake
14. nie-khvabgushbaib
20. shahahjóc umai-javíc (j=χ)
4. shahóque maga habick
8. vaike.

The only known example of the Seri numeral “twelve” is that which was recorded by Mr Bartlett. He has apparently misapprehended its true pronunciation, for he wrote tanchl-to-que instead of tanchltakahque or tanchltakochque. In his orthography kahom signifies “two”, but the final -om is employed only in serial counting, so that kah- is the stem, which is only a variant of koch in eansl-koch, “twenty”; and tanchl signifies “ten”.

The only known example of the Seri numeral “twelve” is the one recorded by Mr. Bartlett. He seems to have misunderstood its correct pronunciation, as he wrote tanchl-to-que instead of tanchltakahque or tanchltakochque. In his spelling, kahom means “two,” but the final -om is used only in serial counting, so kah- is the root, which is just a variation of koch in eansl-koch, “twenty”; and tanchl means “ten.”

In the first six examples of the Yuman list the element “ten” is not expressed, but only some form of the numeral “two”, with a suffix denoting “added to, over, more than”; in the next three the flexion of addition is prefixed to the element “two”; and in the next two, (19) and (2) respectively, the element “two” is immediately preceded by the very abbreviated and perhaps misapprehended forms of the numeral “ten”; in the next a very questionable form is recorded, for it appears to be an attempt to form a compound signifying “two times six”, but without accomplishing the purpose; yet it may be miswritten for nio-khoak-ěshbe, in which khoak is the element “two”, with a doubled sign of addition, namely, the prefix nio-, already explained, and the suffix -ěshbe, also explained above. In the next two the element denoting “ten” is expressed, with umai-javíc and maga habick as the second part, both meaning “two added”. The last (8) vaike is a highly modified and probably misapprehended form of an earlier havik-ěsbe, “two added”, with a subaudition of the numeral “ten”. 320*

In the first six examples of the Yuman list, the number “ten” isn't mentioned, only variations of the number “two,” with a suffix indicating “added to, over, more than.” In the next three, the addition inflection is added to “two.” In the following two examples, (19) and (2) respectively, “two” is directly preceded by very shortened and possibly misunderstood forms of the numeral “ten.” In the next example, a questionable form is noted, appearing to be an attempt to create a compound meaning “two times six,” but it doesn't succeed; it might be a misspelling of nio-khoak-ěshbe, where khoak indicates “two,” with a double indicator of addition—the prefix nio- previously mentioned and the suffix -ěshbe, also explained above. In the next two examples, “ten” is explicitly stated, with umai-javíc and maga habick as the second part, both meaning “two added.” The last (8) vaike is a highly altered and likely misunderstood version of an earlier havik-ěsbe, meaning “two added,” with an implied numeral of “ten.” 320*

TWENTY

Serian
A. ŭntç-kō´k
B. eansl-koch
C. kanlχ´ kookχ´
D. taul jaukl
Yuman
6. arábavik-takavuts-havík
9. arháp-havik takadútca havík
23. chepam-ẖooak
22. guwákě wáwi
18. hěwakě buwáwi
19. huáka huávi
1. huwāka huwāva
III. naganna agannapa inimbal demuejueg=“las manos y los piés”
3. sahhoke was poppe
8. sahoaich sahocki hawaich
13. sauhook ahoowik
14. selgh-hoág
4. shahóque ahabick
20. shahahjóc ahah javíc (j=χ)
5. shaχúha χawík
2. uake-uave
10. vava-hovak
11. wába-hoa´g
21. womása howŭk

The four examples of the Serian numeral “twenty” are merely combinations of the terms kō´k, koch, kookχ´ and jaukl (for χaukl), all cognate forms, meaning “two”, and the forms ŭntç, eansl, kanlχ´, and taul, all cognate and signifying “ten”.

The four examples of the Serian numeral “twenty” are just combinations of the terms kō´k, koch, kookχ´, and jaukl (for χaukl), all related forms meaning “two,” and the forms ŭntç, eansl, kanlχ´, and taul, all related and meaning “ten.”

The Yuman expressions denoting “twenty” are all, with two exceptions, combinations the dialectic elements denotive of “ten” and the forms of the numeral “two”, which have been treated elsewhere in their proper places. The two exceptions are (III) the Cochimi, which signifies “all the fingers and toes”, and (21) the Santa Catalina, which here presents what appears to be a new term for “ten”, for the final word howŭk is the numeral “two”. These analyses do not show relationship between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

The Yuman words for “twenty” are mostly combinations of the elements for “ten” and the numeral “two,” with two exceptions. The first exception is (III) Cochimi, which means “all the fingers and toes,” and the second is (21) Santa Catalina, which seems to introduce a new term for “ten,” since the final word howŭk represents the numeral “two.” These analyses don't indicate any connection between the Serian and Yuman terms.

THIRTY

Serian
A. ŭntç-kōpka
B. eans’l-kapka
C.
D.
Yuman
6. arabavik-takavuts-hamók
9. arhap-havik-takadútca hamok
23. chepam ẖoomiak
18. hěmukě buwáwi
1. humuku huwava
11. hwáwa hamōk
8. sahoke-hamuck
13. sauhook-ahoomook
20. shahahjóc ahah jamúc (j=χ)
4. shahóque ahamóck
5. shahúha χamúk
14. selgh-hamuk
19. muku-ávi
2. moke-uave
10. vava-hamok
21. womás hamŭ´k

321*

321*

FORTY

Serian
A. ŭntç-ksō´k
B. eans’l-scoch
C.
D.
Yuman
9. arhap-havik takadútca tcimpap
23. chepam misnok
2. hoba-uave.
18. hopachě buwáwi
19. hopadsh-uávi
1. hopätia wáva
11. hwáwa hoopá
13. sauhook wauchoopap gishbab
20. shahahjóc ahah tseumpáp
5. shaχúka sumpáp
10. vava-hōpa
21. womas ahopá

FIFTY

Serian
A. ŭntç-kóitum
B. eansl-kovat´hom
C.
D.
Yuman
9. arhap-havik takadútca çarhabk
14. aselghakai
18. hěräpě buwáwi
11. hwáwa ftápa (Gilbert)
23. mesig quinquedit sol-chepam
13. sauhook wa sarap
19. sěráp uávi
20. shahahjóc ahah saaráp
1. thěrapa wuwáva
10. vava hatábuk
21. womas aseräpa
2. satabe-uave.

Comparative Lists of Serian and Yuman Concept Terms

SERIAN
Man Woman People, Indians
A. kŭ´tŭmm A. kmámm A. kun-kák
B. éketam B. ékemam B. komkak
C. ktam C. kmam C. komkak
D. {tam (ktam)
{tamuk; ktamuk (pl.)
D. {kmam, kamujik
{kamykij (pl.)
D.
YUMAN
III. tama 19. ěpá věχí II. demansú=“Indian”
IV. {tamá, tämmá, tammá”
{=“homo”
{uami=“man, male”
3. nisúke 24. epái
II. delmá 16. nechuck 26. ipai=“Indian”
I. wanyu-ami=“young man” 17. gechak 15. ipaye
3. apah 5. {senyeák
{senyeáks
11. upáh, ûp-ă´
19a. ěpá 12. seenyack I. {maha=“people”
{mahati=“Indian”
4. epá-che (pl.) 8. siniake 23. meẖale
13. epa 20. siñaacca 17. m’tee-pai
12. {epáh
{epátch (pl.)
4. sin’yaáke-che (pl.) 12. ml-épáie
7. thinyeahka 7. peepa
9. {çinyiäk
{çinyiáktc (pl.)
13. peepa-chamal
8. pipachi-taik=“many men”322*
17. epa 24. sinquahín 9. pipate (pl. of man)
8. ipa 24a. ěssin 20. piipatse-pallenám
2. {ipa
{ipa gŭli=“Indian”
15. sîin. syn 16. tepitetchetleowah
5. {ipás (s doubtful)
{ipátsh (pl.)
27. sin 5. {matsh-tshámak
{matsh-tshámk
19b. pá, pá´h 26. siñ 24a. ipai=“Indian”
10 pa 14. sing
18. {pa pa-hěmí=“large man” 6. hanya-aga
21. pa hŭrmí=“large man” 13. suyaka
22. pa-hami=“large man” 10. pogii
7. peepa, pé-paa 11. {pŭkí (Gilbert)
{pûkehi
9. {pipa pipate (pl.) 18. pukí
11. ŭpā´ (Gilbert) 22. peke
15. ecoúch 1. kweí iníniga=“squaw, wife”
16. ecotche 2. make, ouidima=“Indian woman”
14. igutch 21. měbĭsí
24a. ikute 23. kokoa
26. ikuĭtch ikwits I. wanki
27. ikwĭtc IV. wakoe (Laymon) wuctu, wuetu (Laymon) huägin=“mulier”
20. curacca II. huisin
23. kimai
24. equitchquahín

Those philologists who have classed the Seri tongue as a dialect of the Yuman stock have laid great stress on the alluring phonetic accordance, supposedly indicative of genetic relationship, between the Laymon (and probably Cochimi) tamá or tammá, “man (homo)”, and the Serian kŭ´tŭmm, ktam or eketam, possibly of the same signification—i. e., “man (homo)”, rather than “man (vir)”; but the accompanying comparative list of vocables purporting to denote “man (homo)” discloses the significant fact that tamá (tammá) belongs only to the Laymon, and (probably) the Cochimi dialects. In Mr Bartlett’s Cochimi record, he wrote delmá, “man, hombre”, and guami (Spanish g), “husband”—that is, “male person”. From certain Laymon texts with interlinear translations in Buschmann’s “Die Spuren der aztekischen Sprache”, etc., the following forms of the vocables in question have been extracted: tammá, “man (homo, Mensch)”; tamma-butel, “this man”; uami-butel, “this man, this male person”; wami-jua, “man (vir, Mann), male person”; wakoe-butel, “this woman”; gui-wuctu-jua, “his woman”; whanu, “small, young, a child”; whanu-wami-jua, “a small, or young, male person”, perhaps “a boy”. Now, wanju or wanyu, “young”, wáhki, “woman” (-aki in wanju-aki, “girl”—i. e., “young woman”); ouami, “(my) husband”, correctly, “(my) male person”; ouĭqua, “(my) wife”, evidently a form of wáhki, “woman”, are all Cochimi vocables. Dr Gabb, in his Cochimi vocabulary, did not record the presumptively correct term denoting “man”; for the word which he has written, wanyuami, and which he has translated “man”, really signifies, “young male person”, rather than “man (homo)”. This is unfortunate, because in Mr Bartlett’s Cochimi, delmá is rendered 323* “man (homo)”, and the Cochimi of Padre Clavigero has tamá, “man”, and the Laymon, tamá, tammá, or tämmá, “man”, and there is seemingly no absolutely satisfactory method of ascertaining whether the l of Mr Bartlett’s delmá, “man”, is genetic or not. But as the Laymon and the Cochimi are apparently cognate dialects, it is probable that the form delmá of Bartlett’s Cochimi and the tamá or tämmá of the Laymon and the Cochimi of Padre Clavigero are cognate vocables. The part of the terms which the two dialects have in common is the final and usually accented -má; in other words, -má is the common conceptual element in the vocables delmá and tamá. This of course rests on the presumption that tamá and delmá are compound terms, having probably genetic relationship. The following facts may aid in discovering the lexica constituting the elements of the two words in question, and these, it is seen, are -má, del-, and ta-. In Dr W. M. Gabb’s record of Cochimi words, collected by him in the vicinity of San Borja and Santa Gertrudis about the “center of the peninsula” of Lower California, the term “Indian” is represented by maha-ti, and “people” by maha. On the same schedule with the Cochimi Dr Gabb recorded a vocabulary of the Kiliwee, dwelling 150 miles “further north” at and near San Quentin. In this dialect, which is Yuman, the word “Indian” is rendered by kimai, and “people” by meẖa-le (preferably meχale335). The apparently genetic accordance between the Kiliwee word for “people” and the Cochimi terms denoting “Indian” and “people” is brought into stronger light by a comparison of the terms for “warrior”; in the Cochimi, mac̲h̲-karai (maχ´-karai), in the Kiliwee, maẖk-pkátai (maχk-pkátai). The unquestioned kinship between these two dialects warrants the inference that these two compound expressions, denotive of the same thing and possessing at least one common element, maχ- or maχ´-, must accord approximately at least, in the signification of their heteromorphic constituents.

Those linguists who categorize the Seri language as a dialect of the Yuman family have emphasized the appealing phonetic similarity, which is thought to indicate a genetic connection, between the Laymon (and likely Cochimi) tamá or tammá, meaning “man (homo)”, and the Serian kŭ´tŭmm, ktam or eketam, which possibly has the same meaning—i.e., “man (homo)”, as opposed to “man (vir)”; however, the accompanying comparative list of words claiming to signify “man (homo)” reveals the important fact that tamá (tammá) only belongs to the Laymon and (probably) the Cochimi dialects. In Mr. Bartlett’s Cochimi documentation, he wrote delmá, “man, hombre”, and guami (Spanish g), “husband”—meaning “male person”. From certain Laymon texts with translations in Buschmann’s “Die Spuren der aztekischen Sprache”, etc., the following forms of the words in question have been extracted: tammá, “man (homo, Mensch)”; tamma-butel, “this man”; uami-butel, “this man, this male person”; wami-jua, “man (vir, Mann), male person”; wakoe-butel, “this woman”; gui-wuctu-jua, “his woman”; whanu, “small, young, a child”; whanu-wami-jua, “a small, or young, male person”, perhaps “a boy”. Now, wanju or wanyu, “young”, wáhki, “woman” (-aki in wanju-aki, “girl”—that is, “young woman”); ouami, “(my) husband”, more precisely, “(my) male person”; ouĭqua, “(my) wife”, evidently a form of wáhki, “woman”, are all Cochimi words. Dr. Gabb, in his Cochimi vocabulary, did not document the presumably correct term for “man”; because the word he listed, wanyuami, which he translated as “man”, actually means “young male person”, rather than “man (homo)”. This is unfortunate, since in Mr. Bartlett’s Cochimi, delmá translates to “man (homo)”, and the Cochimi of Padre Clavigero has tamá, “man”, and in Laymon, tamá, tammá, or tämmá, “man”, and there seems to be no completely reliable method to determine whether the l in Mr. Bartlett’s delmá, “man”, is genetic or not. But as Laymon and Cochimi are evidently related dialects, it’s likely that the form delmá of Bartlett’s Cochimi and the tamá or tämmá of both Laymon and Padre Clavigero's Cochimi are related words. The common part of the terms shared by the two dialects is the final and typically stressed -má; in other words, -má is the shared conceptual element in the words delmá and tamá. This assumes that tamá and delmá are compound terms with likely genetic connections. The following facts may help in identifying the components of the two words in question, which are -má, del-, and ta-. In Dr. W. M. Gabb’s record of Cochimi words, gathered by him around San Borja and Santa Gertrudis near the “center of the peninsula” of Lower California, the word for “Indian” is noted as maha-ti, and “people” as maha. Alongside the Cochimi, Dr. Gabb documented a vocabulary of the Kiliwee, living 150 miles “further north” at and near San Quentin. In this Yuman dialect, the word for “Indian” is kimai, and “people” is meẖa-le (preferably meχale335). The apparent genetic similarity between the Kiliwee word for “people” and the Cochimi terms for “Indian” and “people” is highlighted by comparing the terms for “warrior”; in Cochimi, it's mac̲h̲-karai (maχ´-karai), and in Kiliwee, maẖk-pkátai (maχk-pkátai). The undeniable connection between these two dialects supports the conclusion that these two compound terms, which denote the same thing and share at least one common element, maχ- or maχ´-, must have significant similarities in the meanings of their different components.

In the Kiliwee pah-kute signifies “a chief”, from e-pa, “Indian”, hence “man” (primitively) and kute for (k)e-tai, “large, great”, hence “old”, found in such expressions as sal-kootai, “thumb”, literally “large finger”, and pah-tai, “old”, but literally “old man”. So the name for a chief may be rendered freely “the elder person; the old man (the wise man)”. The Cochimi term mac̲h̲-ka-é, as written by Dr Gabb, denotes “far”, while mac̲h̲-i-kang-i-n̲g̲a means “near”. These vocables may preferably be written thus, maχ´-kaé and maχ´-kañ-iña. The ending -iña is a privative flexion or suffix in Cochimi, forming derivatives with meanings directly adverse to those of the primals; so the literal signification of maχ´-kañ-iña is “not far”, hence “near”; but in maχ´-kaé the final -kaé is the adjective “large, great”, having here an intensive function signifying approximately “more”, while maχ´- is evidently a form of the proximate pronominative found in the terms “thou” and “ye” in this group of languages. In the Laymon kahal ka, “water large (is)”, for a “sea or stream of water”, ka signifies “large, great”; and the Cochimi kättenyi, “few, not much”, is literally kätte- for (k)etai, “large, great, much, many”, and -iñi the privative denoting “not”. And the Laymon metañ, “many, much”, is evidently from m- for ma (a proximate pronominative), eta for the Cochimi etai, “large, great, much, many”, and the final . Compare Bartlett’s modo, “all, todos”, and modoliñi, “many, much”. Such are some of the forms of the adjective signifying “great, large, much, many”. There is also in the Cochimi an intensive pa, ibal, ibá, which signifies “very”. This explains the presence of the p- sound in the term maχk-pkátai, the Kiliwee for “warrior”.

In the Kiliwee, pah-kute means “a chief”, derived from e-pa, “Indian”, signifying “man” (originally) and kute comes from (k)e-tai, “large, great”, which also means “old”. This appears in phrases like sal-kootai, meaning “thumb”, literally “large finger”, and pah-tai, which means “old”, but literally translates to “old man”. So, the term for a chief can be understood as “the elder person; the old man (the wise man)”. The Cochimi word mac̲h̲-ka-é, as recorded by Dr. Gabb, means “far”, while mac̲h̲-i-kang-i-n̲g̲a signifies “near”. These terms are preferably written as maχ´-kaé and maχ´-kañ-iña. The suffix -iña serves as a privative marker in Cochimi, creating derivatives that have meanings opposite to the base words; thus, maχ´-kañ-iña literally means “not far”, or “near”. In maχ´-kaé, the ending -kaé is the adjective for “large, great” and functions intensively here, suggesting “more”, while maχ´- clearly relates to the pronouns “thou” and “ye” in this language family. In the Laymon, kahal ka, meaning “water large (is)”, refers to a “sea or stream of water”, where ka means “large, great”; and the Cochimi kättenyi, meaning “few, not much”, literally translates to kätte- from (k)etai, “large, great, much, many”, plus -iñi, the privative which denotes “not”. The Laymon metañ, meaning “many, much”, likely comes from m-, which is ma (a proximate pronoun), eta from the Cochimi etai, “large, great, much, many”, along with the final . This is similar to Bartlett’s modo, meaning “all, todos”, and modoliñi, meaning “many, much”. These are some examples of adjectives indicating “great, large, much, many”. Additionally, the Cochimi uses an intensive pa, ibal, ibá, which means “very”. This clarifies why there’s a p- sound in the term maχk-pkátai, the Kiliwee word for “warrior”.

It has thus been shown that a probable connection exists between the Cochimi terms maha, “people”, and maha-ti, “Indian”, on the one hand, and the maχ-, inferentially signifying “man” in the Cochimi and Kiliwee names for “warrior”, maχ´-karai 324* and maχk-pkátai, and the meχa- in the Kiliwee meχa-le, “people”, on the other. The significance of the initial ta- in tämmá (tamá, tammá, tamal, tammalá) seems to be that of a definitive pronominative; it is found in the Cochimi of Dr Gabb and in the Laymon. Dr Gabb recorded in his vocabulary ta-ip, “good”, but ta-ip-ena, “bad”, the final -ena being the characteristic Cochimi privative suffix; elsewhere written -iñi. So it would seem that the stem is -ip, meaning “good, desirable”. In Kiliwee aχok (Dr Gabb’s aẖok) signifies “flesh, meat”, while aχok-m-gai denotes “deer”, literally “good, desirable meat”, in which m-gai signifies “good, desirable”; it is probably connected with the term ka, “great”, and its variants noted above, and so may also denote “abundance”. Under the word “love” Dr Gabb has m’gai-yip, the free translation of which should read “greatly desirable; abundantly good, well”. Thus -ip, or -yip, signifies “desirable, good, pleasing to the sense”; in Laymon likewise the initial -ta is sometimes wanting, as in wayp-mang, “good (is)”, as distinguished from tahipo-mang, “good (is)”. The final -mang (=mañ) is a term apparently denoting “to exist, to live”, and is possibly cognate with the (Kiliwee me) in the words discussed above.

It has been demonstrated that there is likely a connection between the Cochimi words maha, meaning “people,” and maha-ti, meaning “Indian,” and the maχ-, which probably indicates “man” in the Cochimi and Kiliwee terms for “warrior,” maχ´-karai and maχk-pkátai, as well as the meχa- in the Kiliwee meχa-le, meaning “people.” The significance of the initial ta- in tämmá (tamá, tammá, tamal, tammalá) appears to function as a definitive pronoun; it can be found in the Cochimi vocabulary of Dr. Gabb and in the Laymon. Dr. Gabb recorded ta-ip, meaning “good,” but ta-ip-ena, meaning “bad,” with the final -ena being the characteristic privative suffix in Cochimi; it’s also noted as -iñi elsewhere. It seems that the root is -ip, meaning “good, desirable.” In Kiliwee, aχok (Dr. Gabb’s aẖok) means “flesh, meat,” while aχok-m-gai means “deer,” literally “good, desirable meat,” where m-gai signifies “good, desirable”; it might be linked to the term ka, meaning “great,” and its variants mentioned earlier, and thus may also imply “abundance.” Under the term “love,” Dr. Gabb lists m’gai-yip, which can be translated as “greatly desirable; abundantly good, well.” Therefore, -ip, or -yip, signifies “desirable, good, pleasing to the senses”; similarly, in Laymon, the initial -ta is sometimes absent, as in wayp-mang, meaning “good (is),” compared to tahipo-mang, “good (is).” The final -mang (=mañ) appears to denote “to exist, to live,” and may be related to the (Kiliwee me) in the previously discussed words.

This, it would appear, is the origin of the in tamá, “man”. The individual character of the initial ta is suggested in what has already been said in reference to its absence from such vocables as wayp-mang and m’gai-yip, in which the wayp and the yip are identical with the ip in ta-ip, “good”. This term ta appears as the relative “that” under the form te. It also appears as a prefix in the Cochimi and Laymon numeral “one” and in the adjective te-junoey, “a few”; also in the adjective de-muejueg, “all”; and again in the peculiar numeral “one”, namely du-juenidi.

This seems to be the origin of the in tamá, meaning “man.” The unique character of the initial ta is indicated by what has been mentioned regarding its absence from terms like wayp-mang and m’gai-yip, where wayp and yip are the same as the ip in ta-ip, meaning “good.” This term ta appears as the relative “that” in the form te. It also appears as a prefix in the Cochimi and Laymon numeral for “one” and in the adjective te-junoey, meaning “a few”; it is also found in the adjective de-muejueg, meaning “all”; and again in the unique numeral “one,” specifically du-juenidi.

Such appears to be the analysis of the Cochimi and Laymon tamá, “man”. The form of it recorded by Mr Bartlett, del-má, “man”, compared with his de-ma-nsú, “Indian”, is seemingly a valid confirmation of the foregoing derivation, because this l in de-l-má is probably identical with the final l or in tama-l and tamma-lá, “man”, cited above. In the Cochimi for “water”, ca-l, its true character is partly seen; cal oso signifies “river”, but in caa-pa-l (Gabb’s kaχ-pa-ra), “sea”, it becomes a suffix, the element pa signifying “much, great”, and Dr Gabb’s form shows that in the dialect he recorded its form is ra; again in cal ka, “lake”, literally “large water”, it is a suffix. It appears again in Mr Bartlett’s del-mag, “light”, as compared with Dr Gabb’s ma-ahra (=maah-ra), “fire”; it appears evident that the mag of del-mag and the maah of maah-ra are cognate, so that de-l is here found as a prefix, as it is in Mr Bartlett’s de-l-má, “man”. Thus it is that delmá and dema-nsú, “Indian”, of Mr Bartlett and tamá and tammalá of Hervas, Duflot de Mofras, and Miguel del Barco are cognate.

This seems to be the analysis of the Cochimi and Laymon tamá, “man”. The version recorded by Mr. Bartlett, del-má, “man”, compared with his de-ma-nsú, “Indian”, appears to confirm the earlier derivation, because the l in de-l-má probably matches the final l or in tama-l and tamma-lá, “man”, mentioned above. In Cochimi for “water”, ca-l, its true nature is partly evident; cal oso means “river”, but in caa-pa-l (Gabb’s kaχ-pa-ra), “sea”, it becomes a suffix, with the element pa meaning “much, great”, and Dr. Gabb’s form indicates that in the dialect he documented, it takes the form ra; again in cal ka, “lake”, literally “large water”, it is also a suffix. It reappears in Mr. Bartlett’s del-mag, “light”, compared with Dr. Gabb’s ma-ahra (=maah-ra), “fire”; it seems clear that the mag of del-mag and the maah of maah-ra are related, so de-l is used as a prefix here, just like in Mr. Bartlett’s de-l-má, “man”. Therefore, delmá and dema-nsú, “Indian”, from Mr. Bartlett and tamá and tammalá from Hervas, Duflot de Mofras, and Miguel del Barco are related.

It accordingly appears that the assumed linguistic relationship between the forms discussed above and the Serian kŭ’tŭmm (ktam, tam), “man”, is very improbable, because there are no evidences nor data indicative that the Serian forms have had a common linguistic tradition with the Cochimi and Kiliwee forms discussed above. It seems proper, therefore, to reject such assumed relationship between the Yuman and the Serian vocables in this comparison.

It seems that the supposed language connection between the forms mentioned earlier and the Serian kŭ’tŭmm (ktam, tam), meaning “man,” is very unlikely, because there is no evidence or data suggesting that the Serian forms share a common linguistic background with the Cochimi and Kiliwee forms discussed earlier. Therefore, it’s appropriate to dismiss the assumed relationship between the Yuman and Serian words in this comparison.

The comparative list of names purporting to signify “woman” in both the Serian and the Yuman tongues reveals not a single phonetic or lexic accordance that may even suggest linguistic kinship between the two groups of vocables.

The comparative list of names claiming to mean “woman” in both the Serian and the Yuman languages shows that there isn't even one phonetic or lexical similarity that could hint at any linguistic connection between the two sets of words.

The comparative list of terms purporting to signify “people” and “Indian” in the Serian and Yuman groups of languages exhibits, in a manner similar to those already examined, the same decisive lack of phonetic accordance between the vocables compared.

The comparison of terms that mean “people” and “Indian” in the Serian and Yuman language groups shows, like the ones we've looked at before, a clear lack of phonetic similarity between the words being compared.

SERIAN
Head Hair Nose
A. ahleht (ahleht) ŭŭf
B. ih’lit ina=“feather” (?) îfe
C. ill’it ill’it kopt’no hif
D. obeka=“down” 325*
Yuman
2. ho (and “face”) 1. kawáwa 3. aho
17. ẖo 11. cowäwä 16. ho, chinattuksah
11. hoo 18. kuwâ´wa 15. h’ho
19. {u
{hu
21. kâwâ´wá 13. ẖo
1. huú 2. {kovaŭva
{govava (Loew)
17. ẖo
10. huu 19. kwáwa 21.
4. chukschâssese 22. kwawe 20. ijó (j=χ)
8. ichucksa 10. koau 4. hoó-che (pl. ?)
7. chookk’sa 7. mókora (Gibbs) 7. mee-hoo=“thy nose”
13. chookoosá 9. mokór̃a 12. {ee-hóo
{eho-tche (pl.)
6. tchuksa 6. mogora 2. hu
9. tcúksa 8. amacora 18. hu
20. edzukshá 7. mem-mukkorra (Mowry) 19.
12a. ecou-tsucherówo 12b. ocono 22. hu
14. iltá 4. eéche 6. ihu
3. {itchama
{mocorre
(Peabody;=“hair”?)
12a. eětche (pl. ?) 8. ihu
12b. oom-whelthe 20. ee 9. {hihú
{hihúv-tca (pl.)
24. huch’lta 5. eès 14. khu
15. hulchtekamo 23. neesmok 5. iχu-úsh (pl.)
16. tenahcumoh 3. {amawach
{mowh’l
23. epe
18. kûmpaiya kûwâ´wa 15. hulchsta 24. hon’yapá
21. kapai 24. huch’lmo 11. yaya (Gilbert)
yaiivă (Renshawe)
5. kwisásh 17. ẖ’lemo 10. yaiya
23. ne-ee 14. khaltá 1. yáyō
I. epok 16. hetltar (r silent) I. vic̲h̲pyuk
II. gupir 13. m’aeae II. huichil
III. agoppi I. epok 25. ah`u (=aχu)
25. hŭsta-kwarŭr, =“scalp” II. lagubú 26. a`hō; h`ō (= aχō)
26. măwhl 25. hŭsta 27. eh`ū (=eχū)
27. h`l-ta (=χlta) 26. hl-ta 26. h`o (χo)=“beak, bill”
24a. ă-hú 27. h`l-ta (=χlta) 24a. ă-hú=“beak, bill”
24a. h`alta (=χalta)

This comparison of the Seri and Yuman terms for “head”, to ascertain linguistic relationship, seems barren of any but a negative result. It is true that there is an apparent resemblance between the Seri and the Diegueño terms, and a still more doubtful one between the Seri and the Kutchan. It is significant that the twenty-odd other Yuman dialects employ for “head” an entirely different term. The kinship of the Seri term to either the Kutchan or the Diegueño is therefore nothing more than a possibility, and it seems safe to reject it. The phonetic discordances, and the fact that there has been no evidence adduced to show that the Diegueño term was ever prevalent in the other Yuman dialects, warrant this rejection.

This comparison of the Seri and Yuman words for “head” to determine linguistic relationships seems to yield nothing but a negative result. While there is a noticeable similarity between the Seri and Diegueño terms, and a more questionable connection between the Seri and Kutchan, it’s important to note that the twenty or so other Yuman dialects use completely different words for “head.” Therefore, the relationship of the Seri term to either the Kutchan or the Diegueño is just a possibility, and it’s reasonable to dismiss it. The differences in pronunciation, along with the lack of evidence showing that the Diegueño term was ever widely used in the other Yuman dialects, support this dismissal.

The following analysis may be of service here. A careful comparison of the Diegueño terms for “head”, and “hair” indicates that the form (14) ilta, “head”, is very probably a shortened khalta, “hair”. In the Diegueño, Santa Isabella, and Mesa Grande vocabularies Mr Henshaw recorded several names for “hair” and “head” which may serve to aid in the explanation of the words in the following comparative list. In his Diegueño record lěmĭs and lĭmi, variants evidently of a common original, stand for “hair, feathers, skin, and fish scales”, as in the entries haltau lěmĭs, “rabbit skin”, kasau lěmĭs, “fish scales”, kŭkwaip lěmĭs, “deerskin”, 326* lěmĭs, “feathers” and “hair” of animals; and also yiu-lěmĭs, “eyebrow”, literally, “eye hair”, and ā-lĭmi, “beard”, literally, “mouth hair”, in which yiu for iuu means “eye” and ā for yau, “mouth”. In his Mesa Grande vocabulary, Mr Henshaw recorded h`lta for both “head” and “hair”; in his Hawi Rancheria vocabulary he wrote mă-whl for “head”, and h`lta for “hair”; and lastly, in his Santa Isabella record hŭsta means “hair”, hŭsta-kwarŭr is written for “head” (literally, “hair skin”, meaning “the scalp”); and ŭstú-kŭmō is rendered “skull”. Thus, h`lta, lěmĭs, and hŭsta are terms denoting “hair, fur, skin, feathers, and fish scales”. Yet it is possible that hŭsta is a softened and ill-pronounced cognate of h`lta. In Corbusier’s Yavapai vocabulary “eyebrow” is written yuh-kělěme, and in Dr White’s Tonto word list yŭ-gŭlma, both signifying literally “eye hair”. It is apparently safe, therefore, to regard the element -kělěme or -gŭlma of these two dialects as cognate with the lěmĭs (lĭmi) noticed above. In his Mohave record Mr Corbusier renders his entry himíç, “eyebrow”, literally, “eye hair”; and in the H`taäm or San Tomaseño by Dr Gabb “beard” is written āh-lamĭse, literally, “mouth hair”. “Hair” is written helt’h-yee-mōh, seemingly “head hair”, for “forehead” is rendered by het’l-ŏmȳ, in which helt’h- or het’l seems to be the term denotive of “head”; but in Lieutenant Mowry’s Diegueño this term, which is there written hetltar (for hetltā) signifies “hair”. In Ten Kate’s Maricopa, “beard” is written ya-womis, literally “mouth hair”, -womis being clearly a variant of himiç, which is but a variant of lĭ-mĭth and of -kělěme noticed above. In the Santa Isabella, Mr Henshaw wrote “feathers” lĭ-mĭth.

The following analysis may be helpful here. A careful comparison of the Diegueño terms for “head” and “hair” suggests that the form (14) ilta, “head”, is likely a shortened version of khalta, “hair”. In the Diegueño, Santa Isabella, and Mesa Grande vocabularies, Mr. Henshaw recorded multiple names for “hair” and “head” that could help explain the terms in the comparative list below. In his Diegueño record, lěmĭs and lĭmi—variants that likely originate from a common root—represent “hair, feathers, skin, and fish scales”, as seen in the entries haltau lěmĭs, “rabbit skin”, kasau lěmĭs, “fish scales”, kŭkwaip lěmĭs, “deerskin”, lěmĭs, “feathers” and “hair” of animals; and also yiu-lěmĭs, “eyebrow”, literally “eye hair”, and ā-lĭmi, “beard”, literally “mouth hair”, where yiu stands for iuu, meaning “eye”, and ā stands for yau, meaning “mouth”. In his Mesa Grande vocabulary, Mr. Henshaw recorded h`lta for both “head” and “hair”; in his Hawi Rancheria vocabulary, he wrote mă-whl for “head”, and h`lta for “hair”; and lastly, in his Santa Isabella record, hŭsta means “hair”, hŭsta-kwarŭr is documented as “head” (literally “hair skin”, meaning “the scalp”); and ŭstú-kŭmō is translated as “skull”. Thus, h`lta, lěmĭs, and hŭsta refer to “hair, fur, skin, feathers, and fish scales”. However, it’s possible that hŭsta is a softened and mispronounced form of h`lta. In Corbusier’s Yavapai vocabulary, “eyebrow” is written yuh-kělěme, and in Dr. White’s Tonto word list, yŭ-gŭlma, both literally meaning “eye hair”. It’s therefore reasonable to consider the element -kělěme or -gŭlma in these two dialects as related to the lěmĭs (lĭmi) mentioned earlier. In his Mohave record, Mr. Corbusier translates himíç as “eyebrow”, literally “eye hair”; and in the H`taäm or San Tomaseño by Dr. Gabb, “beard” is written āh-lamĭse, literally “mouth hair”. “Hair” is written helt’h-yee-mōh, seemingly “head hair”, while “forehead” is rendered as het’l-ŏmȳ, where helt’h- or het’l seems to denote “head”; however, in Lieutenant Mowry’s Diegueño, this term, written as hetltar (for hetltā), means “hair”. In Ten Kate’s Maricopa, “beard” is written ya-womis, literally “mouth hair”, with -womis clearly being a variant of himiç, which is a variant of lĭ-mĭth and of -kělěme noted above. In Santa Isabella, Mr. Henshaw wrote “feathers” as lĭ-mĭth.

COMPARATIVE LIST OF DIEGUEÑO AND OTHER YUMAN NAMES FOR “HEAD”, “HAIR”

Head Hair
14. iltá khaltá
5. hu-lchte-kamo hu-lchsta
16. tenah-cumoh hetltar (= hetltā)
24. hu-ch’lta hu-ch’lmo
24a. ăhú (also “beak, bill”) h`al-ta (= χal-ta)
17. ẖo (= χo) ẖ’lemo (= χlemo)
27. h`l-ta (= χl-ta) h`l-ta (= χl-ta)
26. mă-whl ẖ`o (= χo) (also “beak, bill”) hl-ta
25. hŭsta? hŭsta

It seems clear, furthermore, that iltá (14) is merely a curtailed example of khaltá (14), for it is clear that this iltá is a cognate with the h`lta (27), the initial h`-sound of which, Mr Henshaw says, represents a rough guttural utterance (represented herein by the character χ). In (27) of the comparative list h`lta, expresses both “head” and “hair”, thus completing the circuit and making iltá cognate with khaltá, since it is plain that h`alta (χalta) of 24a, hlta of 26, and h`l-ta of 27, the initial sound in each being, as shown above, a rough guttural are related to khaltá. The term hu-ch’lmo (24) is a compound of hu-, “head”, and -ch’lmo, an evident cognate with the element -gŭlma or -kělěme ( =kělěmĭs) noticed above, denoting “hair”; hence, the combination signifies “hair of the head”. In like manner the H`taäm or San Tomaseño form (17) ẖ’lemo may be explained. In this dialect ẖo (=χo) signifies “head”, and an original ẖolemo (=χo-lěmĭs), signifying “hair of the head”, became contracted to the form in question, namely, ẖ’lemo. In the Santa Isabella record of Mr Henshaw hŭsta signifies “hair”, but hŭsta-kwarŭr is given for “head”, while ŭs-tŭk-ŭm-ō is translated “skull”; the last expression should have been written (h)ŭstŭ-kŭmō. Under the caption “robe of rabbit skins”, h`kwĭr is found, but under “skin” in “Parts of the Body” of his schedule, `nyakwăt (26) and n’kwěr (25) are found, both meaning “my skin”; Corbusier’s Mohave record has himát-makwil rendered 327* “skin of man”, but meaning “skin of the body”, himát signifying “body”, and makwil, “skin”. The Mesa Grande term for skin is given as lĭmĭs, a vocable which has already been discussed. So it must be that the foregoing hŭsta-kwarŭr signifies “skin of the hair” or “skin of the head”, if hŭsta is also a synonym for “head”. The final -ŭr in the compound in question is due to the misapprehension of the rolled or trilled r-sound with which the term for skin terminates. The element -kŭmō of the vocable (h)ŭstŭ-kŭmō, rendered “skull”, is also a factor in the Diegueño terms for “head” in numbers (15) and (16) of the comparative list; so that it is highly probable that these terms signify “skull” rather than “head”. And, lastly, it is equally probable that the expression (18) kumpaiya kûwâwâ signifies “hair of the whole head (skull)” rather than “head” only; for the initial kum- is presumptively the cognate of the forms -cumōh and -kŭmō, denoting in the compounds already noted “skull”, while -paiya signifies “all”, and kûwâwâ “hair”. There appears to be a relationship between the terms for “head” and “hair” in (12b) oomwhelthe, “head”, (3) amawhach and mowh´l, “hair”, and (26) mă-whl, “head”. The explanation of the term hu-lchsta, (15), denoting “hair”, is probably to be found in its resolution into hu (χu), “head”, and lchsta for a form of hŭsta, “hair”, discussed above; the term signifies, therefore, “hair of the head”. In like manner huch´lta (24), rendered “head” there, seems rather to mean “hair of the head”, by its reduction to hu, “head”, and ch´lta, for a form of khalta (= χalta), “hair”.

It seems clear, moreover, that iltá (14) is just a shortened version of khaltá (14), since it’s evident that this iltá is related to h`lta (27). The initial h`-sound, as Mr. Henshaw notes, represents a rough guttural sound (indicated here by the character χ). In (27) of the comparative list, h`lta means both “head” and “hair,” completing the connection and making iltá related to khaltá, because, as demonstrated above, h`alta (χalta) from 24a, hlta from 26, and h`l-ta from 27—all with the initial sound being a rough guttural—are linked to khaltá. The term hu-ch’lmo (24) is a combination of hu-, meaning “head,” and -ch’lmo, which is clearly connected to the components -gŭlma or -kělěme ( =kělěmĭs) mentioned earlier, meaning “hair”; therefore, the combination means “hair of the head.” Similarly, the H`taäm or San Tomaseño version (17) ẖ’lemo can be explained. In this dialect, ẖo (=χo) means “head,” and the original ẖolemo (=χo-lěmĭs), meaning “hair of the head,” was shortened to the current form, ẖ’lemo. In Mr. Henshaw's Santa Isabella record, hŭsta means “hair,” but hŭsta-kwarŭr is given as “head,” while ŭs-tŭk-ŭm-ō translates to “skull”; the last term should have been written as (h)ŭstŭ-kŭmō. Under the heading “robe of rabbit skins,” h`kwĭr is listed, while under “skin” in the “Parts of the Body” section of his schedule, `nyakwăt (26) and n’kwěr (25) are noted, both meaning “my skin.” Corbusier’s Mohave record includes himát-makwil translated as “skin of man,” but it means “skin of the body,” with himát meaning “body” and makwil meaning “skin.” The Mesa Grande term for skin is given as lĭmĭs, a term that has already been discussed. So, it seems that hŭsta-kwarŭr means “skin of the hair” or “skin of the head,” if hŭsta is also a synonym for “head.” The final -ŭr in the compound stems from a misunderstanding of the rolled or trilled r-sound that the term for skin ends with. The component -kŭmō of the term (h)ŭstŭ-kŭmō, rendered “skull,” is also seen in the Diegueño terms for “head” in items (15) and (16) of the comparative list; thus, it’s highly likely these terms mean “skull” rather than “head.” Lastly, it’s also probable that the phrase (18) kumpaiya kûwâwâ means “hair of the entire head (skull)” instead of just “head”; since the initial kum- is likely related to the forms -cumōh and -kŭmō, which represent “skull” in the previously noted compounds, while -paiya means “all,” and kûwâwâ means “hair.” There appears to be a connection between the terms for “head” and “hair” in (12b) oomwhelthe, “head,” (3) amawhach and mowh´l, “hair,” and (26) mă-whl, “head.” The explanation for the term hu-lchsta, (15), meaning “hair,” is likely found in its breakdown into hu (χu), “head,” and lchsta, a version of hŭsta, “hair,” discussed above; thus, it means “hair of the head.” In the same way, huch´lta (24), translated as “head” there, seems to actually mean “hair of the head,” through its reduction to hu, “head,” and ch´lta, a form of khalta (= χalta), “hair.”

The Serian variants of the term denoting “head”, are respectively (A) ahleht. (B) ih´lit, and (C) ill´it. These forms certainly have no kinship with the Yuman terms discussed above; they have a totally alien aspect. The Serian terms for “hair” are respectively (A) ahleht, (B) ina (“feather” rather than “hair”), (C) ill´it kopt´no, and (D) obeke, and while the last has an aspect foreign to the other terms classed as Serian, none of the vocables appear to offer ground upon which to predicate relationship between the Yuman and the Serian. For a further explanation of obeke turn to the discussion of “tooth”.

The Serian variations of the word for “head” are as follows: (A) ahleht, (B) ih´lit, and (C) ill´it. These forms definitely have no connection to the Yuman terms mentioned earlier; they look completely different. The Serian words for “hair” are (A) ahleht, (B) ina (“feather” instead of “hair”), (C) ill´it kopt´no, and (D) obeke. While the last term seems different from the other Serian terms, none of the words seem to indicate a relationship between the Yuman and the Serian languages. For more on obeke, refer to the section on “tooth.”

The comparative list of Serian and Yuman names for the “nose” reveals no evidence of linguistic relationship between the two groups; but an inspection of the Yuman lists for “head”, “hair”, and “nose”, exhibits a close connection between a number of the names for “head”, “nose”, and “beak, bill”.

The comparison of Serian and Yuman names for “nose” shows no signs of a linguistic connection between the two groups; however, a look at the Yuman names for “head”, “hair”, and “nose” shows a strong link among several names for “head”, “nose”, and “beak, bill”.

SERIAN
Eye Face To see
A. mĭtto aiyen
B. íto îyén ikehom
C. hittovχs (pl. ?) hien (in hienkipkue)= “cheeks” okta; χ´ookta
D. iktoj (for iktoχ´)(pl. ?) llen
YUMAN
4. edóche (pl.) edóche eyûuk
7. {hidho
{meet´dho=“thy eye”
{hidho
{meethoownya=“they face”
{hissâmk (far), héyūk (near)
{ekwuo
6. ído hisamk, i-údo336
8. idosaca ilo halquack
9. hiço, hiçotca (pl.) hiço samk=“I see it”
isampotc=“I do not see”
12a. edotche-ée (pl.) odótche, eeyu o-ook
13. medok=“thy eye” meya eyu
20. edhó edo-cuámcoba iyúc
21.
2. ho (and “head”) ó-o 328*
22. yu yu
19.
11. yu, úh (Gilbert) ethool, tialbûgû
18. yuh yu ahámi
11. yuh` (Renshawe) ethoól
1. yú-u páya
10. yu-u yuu akhámuk
I. yupicha (pl.?) yupi gir
11. ye-baká yabi amigi
3. agu, ihu iuabó ouwerk
23. ayu neẖuẖa sau
14. hiyéu, i-ído iyib
17. yeoo yeoo oom
15. yiou alt´hwá ewiouch
16. eeyou eeoh ohum
12b. eeyu-suneyao
24. yeou kewú
III. gadey
5. woyoès idosh, yaχelemísh ashäämk
25. hiiyu hiiyu
26. iyiu iyiu
27. iyiu iyiu

Eight of the terms for “eye” in the yuman word lists are ído, hidho, or their variants, in five Yuman dialects, Maricopa, Mohave, Hummockhave, Kutchan, and M´mat (virtually in but three, for Hummockhave is but a subdialect of Mohave, and M´mat of Kutchan), and the remaining twenty-one examples are from an entirely different stem or base which is apparently connected with a verb “to see,” one of the forms of which is eyûuk (4), héyuk (7), and iyó-ok (6); the form ído and its several variants is seemingly connected with iúdo (6), “let us see”, apparently an imperative form, in a manner similar to the connection between (2), “eye”, and its variants, and the verb form eyûuk just cited.

Eight of the words for “eye” in the Yuman word lists are ído, hidho, or their variations, found in five Yuman dialects: Maricopa, Mohave, Hummockhave, Kutchan, and M´mat (virtually in just three, since Hummockhave is a subdialect of Mohave, and M´mat is a subdialect of Kutchan). The other twenty-one examples come from a completely different root or base that seems to be linked to a verb meaning “to see,” one of which is eyûuk (4), héyuk (7), and iyó-ok (6); the form ído and its several variations appear to be related to iúdo (6), meaning “let us see,” which seems to be an imperative form, similar to the connection between (2), “eye,” and its variations, and the verb form eyûuk just mentioned.

It will be seen from the table that okta and χ´ookta (or χ´ukta) are the Serian forms of the verb “to see”. The form iktoj or iktoχ´, “eyes”, recorded by Sr Tenochio, is the nominal form of that verb, the final j or χ´ being, as it would appear, the plural ending. The -vχs final of M Pinart’s record as distinguished from Professor McGee’s mĭtto and Mr Bartlett’s íto and approximated in Sr Tenochio’s iktoχ´, is evidently plural in function. While the Serian material bearing on this question is, indeed, very meager, it nevertheless seems proper to regard the apparent accordance between the Serian term for “eye (eyes)” and the Yuman vocable, ído and its variants, of limited prevalency, signifying “eye,” as fortuitous rather than genetic.

It can be seen from the table that okta and χ´ookta (or χ´ukta) are the Serian forms of the verb “to see.” The form iktoj or iktoχ´, meaning “eyes,” noted by Sr Tenochio, is the nominal form of that verb, with the final j or χ´ appearing to be the plural ending. The -vχs ending in M Pinart’s record, as opposed to Professor McGee’s mĭtto and Mr Bartlett’s íto, and similar to Sr Tenochio’s iktoχ´, clearly serves a plural function. Although the Serian evidence on this topic is quite limited, it still seems appropriate to view the apparent similarity between the Serian word for “eye (eyes)” and the Yuman word ído and its few variants, meaning “eye,” as coincidental rather than genetically related.

The comparative list of the Serian and the Yuman names for the “face” shows no relationship between the two groups of languages.

The comparison of the Serian and Yuman names for “face” shows no connection between the two language groups.

SERIAN
Tongue Tooth, teeth Foot
A. âps´s A. atá`st A. tâhŏtkl
B. íp´l B. itast B. itóva
C. hipχl C. hitast C. ittovaχ
D. D. D. itoba329*
YUMAN
II. abilg 4. edoóche 3. amea (Peabody)
12. {epulch
{epailche
12. aredóche 13. mee
4. epalch 6. idó 17. mee
10. ipal 8. ido 11. mi (Gilbert)
11. ipā´l (Gilbert) 5. hidoö´s 19. mi
21. ipä´l 9. hidhó (hi¢ó) 21. mĭ´
20. ipáll 7. meet’dho 10. mie
8. ipala 13. medok 18. mĭh
2. pala 20. edháw 11. mĭnh (Renshawe)
6. ipaylya 11. yâ (Gilbert) 1. míi
I. hapara 19. 24. emil
18. hipä´l 21. yâ´ 15. emil-yepiyen
5. hipálsh 11. yō (Renshawe) 4. emésh
9. hipälý 2. yo 8. eme-culepe
13. mepal 18. yoh 23. emepah
7. {meepahlya,
hípala
1. yóo 12. emetch-slip aslap-yah
IV. mabela 10. yoo 20. eme-guzlapa-zl´áp
15. anapalch 17. yeow 16. emmee
24. anapalch 16. eow (ow long) 6. ime
14. anepáilkh 23. eau 3. imi-coushu
16. anpatl 14. iyao 14. i-mil
17. ẖenapail 3. iyahui 9. himé
23. neẖapal 15. iyáou 5. himís
3. inyapatch 24. iyaou 7. meemee
1. yupáu 11. foea 2. {nanyo
{nanû (White)
11. yupäl (Renshawe) I. hastaá I. ma-nyakkoyan (cf. ma-nyak, “leg”)
IV. agannapa (cf. “leg”, “hand”)

After a careful examination of the collated lists of names purporting to signify “tongue” in the Serian and Yuman languages it will be seen that the relationship conjectured to exist between the two groups is fortuitous or coincidental rather than real. The guttural rough breathing χ preceding the l sound in M Pinart’s record, and indicated by an apostrophe in Mr Bartlett’s spelling and by an s in Professor McGee’s orthography, is clearly wanting in all the Yuman terms cited. Were there linguistic relationship between the two groups of terms here compared it would seem that this sound should find a place in one or another of the long list of Yuman terms, notably divergent among themselves. It is possible, if not probable, that the final l, la, or ra of the Yuman terms is not a part of the stem; but this would not affect the want of accordance noted above.

After a thorough review of the compiled lists of names meant to represent "tongue" in the Serian and Yuman languages, it becomes clear that the suggested connection between the two groups is accidental or coincidental rather than genuine. The guttural sound χ that comes before the l sound in M Pinart’s record, represented by an apostrophe in Mr. Bartlett's spelling and an s in Professor McGee’s writing, is clearly absent in all the Yuman terms mentioned. If there were a linguistic connection between the two sets of terms being compared, it seems that this sound should appear in at least one of the many distinct Yuman terms. It is possible, if not likely, that the final l, la, or ra in the Yuman terms is not part of the root; however, this would not change the lack of agreement noted above.

An analytic investigation of the comparative list of vocables purporting to signify “tooth” in the Serian and the Yuman languages discloses no evidence of genetic relationship between them. Those who classify the Serian speech as a dialect of the Yuman cite the Yuman ido, hidhó (the eh-doh of Lieutenant Bergland), signifying “tooth”, as one of the vocables indicating a genetic relationship between the two groups of languages. The comparison is made between the ido, hidhó, and eh-doh cited above and the close variants of the Serian ata`st. An inspection of the comparative list of names for “tooth” shows that this particular Yuman form is confined to the Mohave, Maricopa, and Kutchan dialects (for the M’mat, which also employs this term, is nearly identical with the Kutchan), and that the remainder of the Yuman 330* list of dialects has, with a single exception, an entirely different word; this exception being the Cochimi, which independently has another. The Yuman group, then, has three radically different words purporting to signify “tooth”.

An analytical investigation of the comparative list of words meaning “tooth” in the Serian and the Yuman languages reveals no evidence of a genetic relationship between them. Those who categorize the Serian language as a dialect of Yuman point to the Yuman ido, hidhó (the eh-doh of Lieutenant Bergland), meaning “tooth,” as one of the words suggesting a genetic link between the two language groups. The comparison is made between the ido, hidhó, and eh-doh mentioned above and the closely related Serian ata`st. A look at the comparative list of names for “tooth” shows that this specific Yuman form is limited to the Mohave, Maricopa, and Kutchan dialects (since the M’mat, which also uses this term, is nearly identical to the Kutchan), while the rest of the Yuman 330* dialects have, with one exception, completely different words; that exception being the Cochimi, which has its own distinct term. Thus, the Yuman group has three completely different words for “tooth.”

The Serian vocable for “tooth” is a compound term, being composed of elements denoting “mouth” and “stone”. In the Seri word-collection of Professor McGee attě´nn signifies “mouth”; atta-moχ, “lower lip”, possibly “down about the mouth”; attahk, “saliva” (“water of the mouth”); attahkt, “the chin”; takōps, “upper lip”; attěms, “beard”; ata`st, “tooth”; and a`st, “rock, stone”. Mr Bartlett, in his vocabulary, recorded îten, “mouth”; ita-mocken, “beard”; and hast, “stone”. M Pinart, in his Seri word list, wrote hiten, “mouth”; hita-mokken, “beard”; and hast, “stone”. Lastly, Sr Tenochio wrote iten, “mouth”, and ahste, “stone”, in ahsteka “large, high stone, rock”. Sr Tenochio also recorded obeke, “hair, down (pelo)”. One of the peculiarities of the sounds represented by the letters m and b is that in many instances they grade one into the other. There is here, seemingly, a case in point. The moχ of Professor McGee, the mocken of Mr Bartlett, the mokken of M. Pinart, and the obeke of Sr Tenochio appear to be cognates. Substituting m for the b in obeke, omeke results, which is approximately the moχ, mocken, mokken cited above. Hence, hita-mokken and its congeners, it seems, signify “down of the mouth”. In attahk, “saliva”, the element combining with attě (for it is plain that the final -n is dropped in compounding) is `ahk or `akh, “water”, so that this compound signifies, literally, “water of the mouth”. These analyses show that attě´nn, iten, and hiten, dropping the final n-sound, unite with other elements in the form attě, ite, and hite, respectively. Now, these, in combination with a`st or ast, “stone”, become, respectively, atta`st, itast, and hitast, the forms of the word for “tooth” recorded by Professor McGee, Mr Bartlett, and M Pinart, in the order given. The Seri name for “tooth” signifies, then, literally “stone of the mouth” or “stones of the mouth”. This analysis demonstrates the lack of relationship between the Serian and Yuman names for tooth.

The Serian word for “tooth” is a compound term made up of elements that mean “mouth” and “stone.” In Professor McGee's collection of Seri words, attě´nn means “mouth”; atta-moχ means “lower lip,” possibly “down about the mouth”; attahk means “saliva” (“water of the mouth”); attahkt means “the chin”; takōps means “upper lip”; attěms means “beard”; ata`st means “tooth”; and a`st means “rock, stone.” Mr. Bartlett recorded îten as “mouth”; ita-mocken as “beard”; and hast as “stone.” M. Pinart noted hiten as “mouth”; hita-mokken as “beard”; and hast as “stone.” Lastly, Sr. Tenochio noted iten for “mouth” and ahste for “stone,” in ahsteka meaning “large, high stone, rock.” Sr. Tenochio also recorded obeke, meaning “hair, down (pelo).” One interesting feature of the sounds represented by the letters m and b is that they often blend into one another. This is evident here. The moχ from Professor McGee, the mocken from Mr. Bartlett, the mokken from M. Pinart, and the obeke from Sr. Tenochio seem to be related. By replacing m with b in obeke, we get omeke, which is similar to the moχ, mocken, and mokken mentioned above. Therefore, hita-mokken and its similar forms likely mean “down of the mouth.” In attahk, meaning “saliva,” the element that combines with attě (since it's clear that the final -n is dropped in compounding) is `ahk or `akh, meaning “water,” so this compound literally means “water of the mouth.” These analyses show that attě´nn, iten, and hiten, dropping the final n sound, combine with other elements in the forms attě, ite, and hite respectively. Now, when these are combined with a`st or ast, meaning “stone,” they become atta`st, itast, and hitast, which are the forms of the word for “tooth” recorded by Professor McGee, Mr. Bartlett, and M. Pinart, in that order. The Seri term for “tooth” literally means “stone of the mouth” or “stones of the mouth.” This analysis shows that there is no connection between the Serian and Yuman words for tooth.

The comparative schedules of names for “foot” in the Serian and the Yuman languages show no accordances of a phonetic character tending to show any genetic relationship between the two groups compared.

The comparative lists of names for “foot” in the Serian and Yuman languages show no phonetic similarities that would suggest any genetic relationship between the two groups being compared.

SERIAN
Arm Hand Finger(s) Thumb Fingernail(s)
A. mĭ`noŭllt` A. {ŭnollk,
{ŭnlŭhss`
{unlă’hss`
A. ŭnut- A. ŭnultekōk A. ŭnosk
B. inoyl B. inosiskersk B. inosshack B. B. inósk’l
C. innolχ´ C. intl̃ash C. inol’tis C. inol’vekoχ C. inoskl̃χ´
D. inls D. D. D. D.
YUMAN
2b. sote (White) 10. sal 3. ainchaho
(Heintzelman)
1. sal-kövatéa 6. salgolyoho
1. t’hótii 11. sal 6. salgoharaba 10. sal-guvetee 23. salẖow
10. thutii 21. sál 21. salsělawhó= “fingernail” 11. {săl-qovutéh
{sal-guviteye
21. sál saleehó
11. thutiya (Gilbert) 18. säl 23. salchepa 18. säl-kuběté 7. saltilyoho (Gibbs)
18. thudí 22. sále 11. {săltiqĭ
{saltida
21. sal-kŭbité 9. hisalyekělyěhó
13. mevee 1. sálle 10. saltídya 9. hisalye-kûbûtá 8. isalculyiho
4. mibiísch 23. esal 15. selchkasow 19. shál-gubdé 16. asshatlkay-show (o as in bough)
7. {meebeenya
{(Mowry)
{hibí (Gibbs)
24. esalch 23. sal-kootai
12. eesálche 2. shal-kóta
7. eesarlya (Mowry) 331*
9. hivipúk 15. selchpayén 12. esalche serap 13. shal-kserap 12. eesalche calla hotche
2a. vuyeboka 7. hisála (Gibbs) 24. esalchqualy-
umas
5. hisháltye-
watásh
13. meshalkleho
21. sál 9. hisalkothar̃ápa 8. isalcusirape 20. ishallchevetá 7. meesarlquilyoho (Mowry)
11. (sál)hănōvă =“right hand” (Renshawe) 14. isalgh 9. hisalkothar̃-
ápa
I. ginyakyuqui 15. selchkawaoh
26. satl` 8. isalsicon 17. shaẖ 25. hasuth-kapatai 14. selkeshau
15. selch 17. shaẖ (ẖ=χ) 3. shawas (Peabody) 26. sakl-pĭtai 18. sělěhó
24. esalch 19. shál 4. eshaki-
sharábish
19. shělahó
12. {eeseth´l,
{èsee´l
2. shala 19. shál 20. shallglojó
23. esílmok 5. shalkeseráps 5. shalkeseráps shèndish 1. siluw`or
6. isálya 4. eshalish 13. shalkeserap 2. shalahuó
8. isale 20. eshallchag-
hpeyén
2. shalagaite =“thumb” 25. silyawhó
14. isalgh 13. meshal 20. eshallque-
sharáp
17. shaẖnepool
17. shaẖ (ẖ=χ) 16. asshatl 16. asshalscarap 10. setehóa
19. shál 25. h`asătlkwia-
yěl
25. hasuthkwaiimut 11. sĭtăhwóû
20. eshall 6. hathbink 7. {meesarlqui-
thahrapa (Mowry)
{sequaharapa (Gibbs)
5. keshliwoχósh
5. ishalísh I. ginyak I. ginyakyuqui 3. elcawho´p (Peabody)
16. asshatl II. naganná II. ignimbal 4. eshekiohoósh
25. h`asath` III. naganná III. ignimbal 24. esalchqualyu-
how
I. ginyakpak IV. naganná IV. ìñimbal I. ginyakka
II. guenebí 14. enepul II. geneka
3. {shawarra (Peabody)
{arowhur

Prominent among the data set forth to establish an alleged genetic linguistic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman tongues has been the word “hand” as represented in the languages in question.

Prominent among the data presented to support a supposed genetic linguistic connection between the Serian and Yuman languages has been the word “hand” as it appears in both languages.

A discriminating examination, however, of the accompanying comparative schedules, comprising the words “arm, hand, finger, thumb, and fingernail,” fails to reveal any evidence that any genetic relationship exists between the languages here subjected to comparison.

A careful look at the comparative schedules that include the words "arm, hand, finger, thumb, and fingernail" doesn’t show any proof of a genetic relationship between the languages being compared.

It has been suggested that the relationship is established through the Yuman sal (shala, isalgh=isalχ), “hand”, etc., and the Serian name for “wing” as recorded by M. Pinart, namely, isselka; but Mr. Bartlett wrote this word iseka without the l, so this sound may or may not be genetic. But it has not been shown that isselka or iseka ever signified “hand, arm, finger, thumb, fingernail”, to a Seri, or that it is a component element in any one of these five terms in the Serian tongue; and so it is apparently futile, in the absence of historical evidence, to attempt to employ this term iseka or isselka, “wing”, as an assumed cognate of the Yuman sal, to establish linguistic relationship between the languages. 332*

It has been suggested that the relationship is established through the Yuman sal (shala, isalgh=isalχ), meaning “hand,” etc., and the Serian word for “wing” as recorded by M. Pinart, which is isselka; however, Mr. Bartlett wrote this word as iseka without the l, so this sound may or may not be related. There’s no evidence showing that isselka or iseka ever meant “hand, arm, finger, thumb, fingernail” to the Seri, or that it is part of any of these five terms in the Serian language. Therefore, it seems pointless, without historical proof, to try to use the term iseka or isselka, meaning “wing,” as an assumed cognate of the Yuman sal to establish a linguistic connection between the languages. 332*

COMPARATIVE LIST OF SERIAN FINGER-NAMES

McGee Pinart Bartlett
Thumb ŭnŭltékok inol´vekoχ
Forefinger ŭnŭ´lstess inol´tis
Middle finger ŭnŭltemŭ´ka`p inol´l´emakkap
Ring finger ŭnŭlteépa inol´tip
Little finger ŭnŭlschálk inol´shak
Arm {mĭ´noŭllt
{mĭnoŭlld
innolχ´ i-noyl
Wrist ŭnuhpkĭht inoliavap´χ´a
Hand {ŭnollk
{ŭnlŭ´hss`, ŭunlă´hss`
intl̃ash i-nos-is-kersk
Fingers inol´tis {i-nos-shack
{i-nos-shack-itova=
“toes”
Right hand inol´l´apa
Left Hand istl̃ik
Finger nails ŭnosk` inoskl̃χ´ i-nósk´l

It would seem, that the term given by M Pinart for “fingers” is not accurate, since he has previously recorded it for “forefinger”, in which he is confirmed by Professor McGee. It seems probable that the literal signification of the term for “little finger” is “son (or offspring) of the hand.” Professor McGee writes i-sahk for “son” as said by the father, and M Pinart writes isaak for the same idea.

It seems that the term M Pinart used for "fingers" isn't correct, as he previously noted it for "forefinger," which is supported by Professor McGee. It’s likely that the literal meaning of the term for "little finger" is "son (or offspring) of the hand." Professor McGee writes i-sahk for "son" as said by the father, and M Pinart writes isaak for the same concept.

SERIAN
Wing(s) Feather(s) Bird
A. A. A.
B. iséka B. hrekina, = “bird feather” B. schaîk; (schek-)337
C. isselka C. inna C. shek; (shiik-)
D. D. D.
YUMAN
2. sha 4. shabílsh 2. tishá
13. eeshalk´sab̲i̲llus 5. shawílsh 17a. tăchā (San Tomas)
7. ibīlya (Gibbs)
eebeelya (Mowry)
7. seebeelya (Mowry)
siviya (Gibbs)
19. itisha; tyesha
9. hivílyě 6. sivílya 22. tesya
11. wă´lă 9. sivílya 21. tcĭsá
18. wálle 8. sewailye I. ic̲h̲a
23. oowaloo 17. shawalh 14. asha
4. melahótch 12. sahwith´l 15. asa
20. -millajo, (etsiyerre-)338 13. sab̲il; (sawillch339) 18. isá=“eagle”
21. wĭrawídă 10. seguala 11. {issā,=“raven”
{ŭsă=“eagle” (Gilbert)
24. wirrawir 19. wála 13a. shuh333
17. wurawir; (whīrrawhiuh340) 23. tewalooeme 6. atsiyéra
16. erwirry 15. hewirwírr 16. erwirry7.{cheeyura
{achiéra (Gibbs)
15. -awirr (hewichitt-) 24. wirrawir 9. achiyěra = “small birds”
8. eyerk 21. apa-quirrh = “tail feather” 17b. cheeyara
I. ic̲h̲quan 18. {wálle
{mûséma=“quills”
20. etsiyerre
II. goumó 20. -ěěmist (etsiyerre-) 5. teseyérekopaí
26. wŭrrawŭrra 2. mata 23. kewalo
I. ic̲h̲quan 4. e-yê´rk
II. nhamba 8. noosquivira
16. sohmay sharwattěl341 10. kipay
26. limith II. kabto
13b. ahermá
16. sohquiah (i in like)
24. sepa

The comparative list of names for “wing” in the Serian and the Yuman languages exhibits no satisfactory evidence of a genetic relationship between the collated vocables; in like manner there is no phonetic accordance whatever between the terms denoting “feather” in the two groups of words. It seems evident, however, that several of the Yuman words for “wing” and “feather” are phonetically mimetic onomatopes; compare whirrawhiuh (17) from Mr Parker’s San Tomas Mission Vocabulary, which is evidently an imitative word for the sound made by the wings of a bird (for example, of the California quail) in rapid motion.

The comparison of names for “wing” in the Serian and Yuman languages shows no clear evidence of a genetic connection between the collected words; similarly, there is no phonetic similarity at all between the words for “feather” in the two groups. However, it seems clear that several Yuman words for “wing” and “feather” are imitative sounds; for example, whirrawhiuh (17) from Mr. Parker’s San Tomas Mission Vocabulary seems to mimic the sound of a bird's wings (like the California quail) when it moves quickly.

In the collated schedule of names for “bird” there is lacking any phonetic accordances indicative of linguistic relationship between the languages compared.

In the compiled list of names for “bird,” there are no phonetic similarities that suggest a linguistic connection between the languages being compared.

SERIAN
Bone Leg
A. míttag (like German “mittag”) A. attân attâqklem=“thigh”
B. hrehiták B. itahom
C. ittak C. {hitaχom=“thigh”
{hippeχl=“leg”
D. D.
YUMAN
15. âk 2. uata (Loew)
impadi (White)
24. ak 1. mópada
24a. ák 11. mupata (Renshawe)
25. āk 19. mpáda
26a. ak 6. methílya
I. hak 7. {methilya (Gibbs)=“thigh”
{meemay meethilya (?)=“upper
{ leg”
23. ẖak 10. methil
27. hăk 20. emé
17. ok 23. eme
26b. n’yak 21. emmí
18. chiyä´ka
21. tciáka
4. escháques 334*
7. n’eahsárk (Mowry) 17. mee
5. shaaks 13. memae
13. yoosak 12. meesith’l
8. inyesake 15. emílye
20. ndchashácq’ 4. emistilísh
10. tiága 3. imyliwhy
19. tiága 16. ewhitl
6. uániga 14. iuilgh
3. namsail 24. enyi-wílch
2. kuévata 18. thimuwála
7. esal-hiwa (Gibbs) 5. eskarowísh
II. acheso (Spanish?) 8. enesaquiwere
16. micashsho 9. himetca-áma=“upper legs”
11. siminoho (Gilbert)
I. ma-nyak
II. gelelepi
IV. agannapaho (cf. “foot”)

An examination of the several names for “bone” in the two groups of terms from the Seri and the Yuman tongues in the comparative list above reveals no trustworthy evidence of linguistic relationship between the two groups.

An analysis of the different names for “bone” in the Seri and Yuman languages from the comparative list above shows no reliable evidence of a linguistic connection between the two groups.

The same want of agreement between the two groups of terms purporting to denote “leg” in the Serian and the Yuman languages is manifest in the foregoing comparative list.

The same lack of agreement between the two sets of terms that aim to represent “leg” in the Serian and the Yuman languages is evident in the previous comparative list.

SERIAN
Blood Red
A. á-it A. ka-ailqt
B. âv’t B. ke-vilch
C. av̌at C. kēveχ´l
D. D. kebls
YUMAN
9. ahwátam 22. guate
16. ahwhat 9. awhát
21. awhát 16. h’what
12. awhút (Comoyei) 21. awhátěk
25. ă-whŭt 12. achawhut
26. a-whăt 25. whŭt
14. akhoat 26. whŭt
6. neghoata 14. khoat
10. tigval 6. aghóathum
23. t-quat 10. kokhoát
15. h’wat 23. oo-qual
13. ẖwat (ẖ=χ) 15. h’wát
17. ẖwat 13. ẖwat
18. hwat 17. ẖwat
19. hwát 18. chěhwáta
11. hwă´tigă 19. ahuáti
2a. hŭata 27. ěwhŭt
3. inuwhal 2a. awáti
8. nichwarte 8. awhát
7. n’yawhart (Mowry) 7. itchahhoata (Mowry)
20. niejuít (j=χ´) 20. cuicávojuít335*
7. yahwata (Gibbs) 7. echahuáta (Gibbs)
2b. kŭalayŭ 2b. kalyo
4. ehivetch 4. hivet
5. hiχwítsh 5. χwíttcem; gwíttem
I. huat I. mac̲h̲c̲h̲uang (=maχχuang)
IV. jueta II. mocao
II. jued IV. mokó

At first glance there seems to be some degree of relationship between the groups of terms signifying “blood” and “red” in the Serian and the Yuman tongues. But a discriminating examination of the words of the two collated lists seems to lead to the contrary conclusion.

At first glance, there appears to be some connection between the terms for “blood” and “red” in the Serian and Yuman languages. However, a closer look at the words from the two compiled lists suggests the opposite conclusion.

It may be well to note that the difference between the Serian vocables denoting “blood” and those signifying “red” is that the latter have a prefixed kă- or kě- sound, in this resembling most other attributive terms in the language. This or is probably a pronominative element. The Seri forms of the name for “blood,” however, have no initial guttural prefix, and, owing to the lack of historical evidence, it is not possible to declare that the Seri word, as compared with the Yuman terms, has lost an initial guttural aspirate, which is apparently genetic in the Yuman words, as it is present in 27 of the 28 variants of the Diegueño (14) khoat and Mohave (9) ahwat cited in the list. This is emphasized by the fact that the guttural aspirate remains unchanged whether the term denotes “blood” or, metaphorically, “red”. The Yuman word apparently has no distinctively adjective or attributive form. This is evidently in direct contrast with the Seri word, in which the attributive form is initially and terminally different from the form of the word employed as the name for “blood”. These considerations strongly militate against the assumed linguistic relationship between the Serian terms denoting, concretely, “blood”, and, metaphorically, “red”, on the one hand, and the Yuman vocables of like signification on the other.

It’s important to point out that the difference between the Serian words for “blood” and those for “red” is that the latter have a prefixed kă- or kě- sound, similar to most other descriptive terms in the language. This or is likely a pronoun element. However, the Seri words for “blood” don’t have an initial guttural prefix, and due to the lack of historical evidence, we can’t definitively say that the Seri word, compared to the Yuman terms, has lost an initial guttural aspirate, which seems to be genetic in the Yuman words, as it appears in 27 out of the 28 variants of the Diegueño (14) khoat and Mohave (9) ahwat mentioned in the list. This is highlighted by the fact that the guttural aspirate remains unchanged whether the term means “blood” or, metaphorically, “red.” The Yuman word doesn’t seem to have a distinct adjective or descriptive form. This clearly contrasts with the Seri word, where the descriptive form is different at the beginning and the end compared to the form used as the name for “blood.” These factors strongly argue against the assumed linguistic relationship between the Serian terms that denote, literally, “blood,” and, metaphorically, “red,” and the comparable Yuman words.

SERIAN
Yellow (brown) Green Black Blue
A. {móssolqt
{komassolt (brown)
kóilqlh kópolt kóilqlh
B. k´másol kovilch kopolcht válch-kopolch
C. kmassol̃χ´ kovül̃χ´; χpanams kopoχ´l (dark) kovül̃χ´
D. kmozol kobslh jikopohl (darkness) (j=χ)
YUMAN
I. simarai manac̲h̲ui ic̲h̲c̲h̲ara c̲h̲angmangc̲h̲uiai
II. yembil mosoo akal
2. kŭase ilvi nya aveshŭve
4. aques hashamelavî´k mîlk habashû´ck
5. kwíssem verrevèrs nyílk χaweshúk
6. agoathum havesug vanilgh havasug
7. {okwarthi
(Mowry)
{akwátha
Gibbs)
havasook
amatk
whenyaeelkh
hwainyēlk
havasook
havasóke
8. akwahum timahóchi naailk avisuk
9. akwátha habasó hwanyilý habasó
10. agoathega nyágh ashuuga
12. aquesque atsowoo surche quimele; hawoo surche 336*
13. quas h̲b̲soo nyil h̲b̲soo
14. akhoas kaposhu nilgh kaposhu
15. quas h’pashu qu’n’ylch h’pashu
17. quos ẖpshoo ny̲il h’pashoo
16. quass quass netl hupshu
18. akwátha haběsúwi nyä´chi; nyä haběsúwi
19. kuáthi kuáthi iniä´ havěshúvi
20. accuésque jabashúc ñiellgue m’mai; m’mai cojoshuñiá
21. aquássŭk aquás hapíli habĭshú
22. akwátha gawesúwe nyátie gavesúwe
23. koosai emelsoo nyeg emelsoo
24. ahapeshu qu’nilch ahapeshú

These comparative schedules of color-names denoting “yellow or brown”, “green”, “black, darkness”, and “blue”, collated from the Serian and the Yuman languages, exhibit no phonetic accordances which would be indicative of linguistic kinship between the two groups of languages compared.

These comparative schedules of color names for “yellow or brown,” “green,” “black, darkness,” and “blue,” gathered from the Serian and Yuman languages, show no phonetic similarities that would suggest a linguistic connection between the two language groups being compared.

It may be of some interest to remark here that the only dialect among the large number compared above that employs the term “sky” for blue is the M’mat (20); in this dialect m’mái signifies “sky”, while m’mái or m´mai-cojoshuñiá (literally, “sky color”) denotes “blue”.

It might be interesting to note that the only dialect among the many compared above that uses the term “sky” to mean blue is the M’mat (20); in this dialect m’mái means “sky”, while m’mái or m´mai-cojoshuñiá (literally, “sky color”) means “blue”.

SERIAN
White Old Young
A. kó`pol kma`kōk (man)
kŭnkai´e (woman)
sepía` (man)
B. kôpcht ikomákolch siip
C. kohoχp
D. {kmakoj (man)
{konkabre (woman)
sip; psip=“boy”
YUMAN
I. tipyc̲h̲e
(tipyχ´e)
oosing wanju
II. calá acusó
IV. gala {whanu=“child, young one”
{wakna, misprint for wáhna (Laymon)
2. n’shava velhé (Laymon) ba (Laymon)
4. hemaál kuraácks homarsh
5. χemálye {kureáks (man)
{akoís (woman)
meχaís
6. nimesam kvoraaga ipa
7. {n’ymahsava (Mowry)
{n’yamasába (Gibbs)
{kwirirark (Mowry)
{kwarraák (Gibbs)
{mess-ser-haik (Mowry)
{messerháik (Gibbs)
8. yimeusava quaráki issintaie=“one”
9. nyamasába {kwadaä´k (man)
{kwakuyá (woman)
{atatayútca=“ancestors”
maháia (man)
10. nimesav patáiga heméiga
11. {pagataíya (Gilbert)=
{ “young man”
{kamûdûmû (Gilbert)=
{ “young woman”
{hamě´ (Gilbert)=
{ “young man, boy”
{mŭmsĭ (Gilbert)=
{ “young woman, girl” 337*
12. hamarlk
13. hmal koorchak amahai
14. nomosháb umáu itmam
15. yem’súp quirruck ikutkuspírr
16. nemschap qurruk quomiek
17. eemschap koorak quel
18. nyuměsábi {bělhéi (man)
{kûmûhwĭ´dûmûr (woman)
19. niměsáva
20. jamallgue curaácca (man) iepac
21. ĭmĭcápa {pělhé (man)
{pakí (woman)
pahŭrmŭ´rrě
hatcě´n (woman)
22. nyemesáwe
23. umesap pahtai pakookeechap
24. ném’shap querak quenacui (woman)
24a. nĭr-mishăh korák {hequál (man)
{hatcĭ´n (woman)

The group of Serian names for the color “white” have no phonetic accordances with the collated Yuman terms of like meaning.

The collection of Serian names for the color "white" has no phonetic similarities with the grouped Yuman terms of the same meaning.

Of the compared groups of Serian and Yuman names for “old” and “young” it may be well to remark that in both some of the terms recorded mean simply “man”, “woman”, without regard to age, or “large, great man” (Seri A, B, D, and Yuman 6, 9, 10, 21, 23, 24. In number 21 paki signifies simply “woman”, regardless of age. Yuman number 8 signifies “one”, not “young”). This cursory comment shows how untrustworthy much of this material is. It is evident that there is here no proof of genetic linguistic relationship between the Seri and the Yuman languages.

Of the compared groups of Serian and Yuman names for “old” and “young,” it’s worth noting that in both categories, some of the recorded terms simply refer to “man” or “woman,” regardless of age, or mean “large, great man” (Seri A, B, D, and Yuman 6, 9, 10, 21, 23, 24). In number 21, paki means just “woman,” without any age implication. Yuman number 8 means “one,” not “young.” This brief observation highlights how unreliable much of this material is. It’s clear that there’s no proof of a genetic linguistic relationship between the Seri and Yuman languages here.

SERIAN
Great, large Small Good Bad, ill
A. -gehkpa
B. kakkolch kipk’ha kîpi homîip; miph’la
C. kakkoχ´ {kip’χχa; kissilχ´ χeppe χ’omipla (kmipl̃a, “bitter”)
D. kakoj
YUMAN
I. c̲h̲ai,(=χ´ai) ac̲h̲tawan =aχá´tawan), “young” taip taipena
II. cáokoo cánil ahámi aminllí (=amiñyi)
IV. ká (Laymon) {ami
{tahipo}(Laymon)
{tahipe
{ambiñyi
{may (Laymon)
2. {vete (Laymon);
{ bite
gatye {khane
{ahónni
kalyeve
4. otía n’yokek hoátk’ nyoymik
5. wetáym nokík χotk nyomík
6. vataim itáuk akhotk alaik
7. {veltakík (Mowry)
{meltaim (Gibbs)
{hōmmék=“tall”
{anchoik

{hitáuk
{ahhoteka

{ahōt’k
{munnaik

{elhōtmuk; elláik 338*
8. h’watai echitawa epache-hoti= “good men” pipach-ilhotim= “bad men”
9. veltáia; ohumik =“tall” hitchaúwa ahót alai
10. vatega ketiga akhánega hianomaga
12. oteique onoc oque ahotekah; ahotk haloolk
13. btek qunnuk ẖanna enoimi
14. igu iltik khan ikútsikhlitch
15. aquacktàiye el mâam h’hun w’hlitch
17. quotai leepist mooẖoi oorap
16. attih el marm k’hun witlitch
18. taya; ta; hěmí kě´chi háni, hánikûm kalěpi
19. táyake; věté kitie háne χ´ělé´pě
20. bettáic n’noc ajótk l’láic
22. weté kétye hané helépe
23. etai mootit mgai hoogloi
24. ecúy halyemuck quahan qual-hitch

In the comparison of the adjectives “great, large” there is a single apparent accordance between the two groups, and that is between the Cochimi cáokoo and the several Serian terms. The Laymon form indicates that the stem is ka or ; but an analysis of the Serian words shows that kolch, koχ´ or koj (for koχ´) is their base, the initial ka being merely a pronominative, as may be seen from an inspection of the compared lists of attributives or adjective elements in the Seri groups, including the color-names. Now, Mr Bartlett writes in the same list with cáokoo, calka, “a lake” = “water, large”, accenting the , “great, large”; and his “small” is cá-ñil=“great not”.

In comparing the adjectives “great, large,” there’s one clear similarity between the two groups, which is the Cochimi cáokoo and various Serian terms. The Laymon version suggests that the root is ka or ; however, analyzing the Serian words indicates that kolch, koχ´, or koj (for koχ´) serves as their base, with the initial ka being just a pronoun, as can be seen by looking at the compared lists of attributives or adjective elements in the Seri groups, including the color names. Now, Mr. Bartlett notes alongside cáokoo the term calka, “a lake” = “water, large,” emphasizing , “great, large”; and his term for “small” is cá-ñil=“great not.”

Comparing Dr Gabb’s χai, “great, large”, and ka or , on the one hand, with the Kiliwee kootai and kute in sal-kootai and pah-kute, “thumb” or “large finger”, and “chief” or “large, great man”, and with the Kiliwee etai, “great, large” on the other, it becomes evident that is a curtailed form of kootai (kute), as etai is. The cáokoo of Mr Bartlett evidently signifies something more than “large, great”; it may possibly mean “large house”—i. e., cáuaka, or “large earth, ground”—i. e., cáakug, or it may be a cognate of Gabb’s eχkaikang, “high mountain”. But nevertheless its derivation has been demonstrated so as to show that it has nothing in common with Serian terms.

Comparing Dr. Gabb’s χai, which means “great” or “large,” and ka or , on one hand, with the Kiliwee terms kootai and kute in sal-kootai and pah-kute, which translate to “thumb” or “large finger,” and “chief” or “large, great man,” and with the Kiliwee etai, meaning “great” or “large,” on the other hand, it becomes clear that is a shortened version of kootai (kute), just like etai is. The cáokoo of Mr. Bartlett clearly indicates something more than just “large” or “great”; it might refer to “large house”—i.e., cáuaka, or “large earth, ground”—i.e., cáakug, or it could be related to Gabb’s eχkaikang, meaning “high mountain.” However, it has been shown that its derivation proves it has no connection to Serian terms.

There is likewise no phonetic relationship between the Serian and the Yuman words denoting “small”, and this is also true of those signifying “good”, “bad”, and “ill”. These four comparative lists then show no genetic relationship.

There is also no phonetic connection between the Serian and Yuman words for "small," and this applies to the words for "good," "bad," and "ill." These four comparative lists show no genetic relationship.

SERIAN
Water Die, dead Wood, tree
A. ak`, hak` -amŭkŭk ahká-uhkă=“firewood”
B. ache (=aχ´`) kochhe {akáhoke=“wood”
{eaomtkite
C. aχ´ (aχ´) {ikoχχe=“die”
{χuaχχ´e=“dead”
{akaχχ´ŭkŭă=“wood”
{ehe=“a stick, palo”
D. ahj (ahχ´) ehe=“arbol”
YUMAN
I. {kaχ´- (in kac̲h̲para, “sea”)
{tasi; desi= “to drink”
epè {wac̲h̲e=“tree”
{aput=“wood”
II. cal ybitá allegcó=“wood”
IV. kahal; kalal (?) ibi; yibi (Laymon) 339*
1. ahá, aháa epíga
2. aha nevaye; bi=“dead” i-i=“tree, wood”
3. niluwhet; hahaw’l {ihu=“tree”
{inalch=“shrub”
{iya=“wood”
4. háche epúik (ipáik=“alive”) {emabatách=“tree”
{eeêche=“wood”
5. χá epúïk {teísh=“tree”
{iísh=“wood”
6. akha ipuik aí=“tree”
7. {ahá
{ákhha (Gibbs)
{hippooik=“dead”
{hippóik (Gibbs)
{ahah=“cottonwood”
{ahee; a-í=“wood” (Gibbs)
8. ahá ichichiwoche=“tree”
a-í=“wood”
9. aha hipúik ahaá=“tree”; aí=“wood”
10. aháa apíge iíe=“tree”
11. ha haigopiga (Gilbert)
12. ahá éeesh=“tree”
e-ee; e-eetch=“wood”
13. ẖa (=χa) puik eekwsen; ee=“wood”
14. akha meley akhakunau; il=“wood”
15. h’ha mispà ilye; sin’yauquatài=“tree”
16. ahah mispah e-ee; e-ee=“wood”
17. ha (=χa) m’s’pa oochoẖ; ee=“wood, pine”
18. ahá, ha pih iíh
19. áha, há bihi; bi; pi ivi; i-i=“wood”
20. já (χ´a) opúic eí=“wood” and “tree”
21. ahá ipapí ii, akiŭl; iiruba=“wood”
22. aha hepi
23. aẖa (=aχa) paspi ẖaipak
24. ah’há mesapá ily=“tree”

All the Serian words denoting “water” are monosyllabic and terminate with the k-sound or aspirated guttural χ, followed by the breath instant (to which the final e of Mr Bartlett’s orthography is equivalent). On the other hand, the vocables of the Yuman group of dialects invariably end in a vowel or a double vowel, and, in 24 out of 31 given forms, they are dissyllabic, several being trisyllabic. The Laymon form of the term is evidently the least affected by use, and jointly with the words numbered 5, 6, 7 (Gibbs), 13, 14, 17, and 23, shows the genetic character of the terminal vowel in the given words. These considerations render it probable that the apparently radical resemblance of the collated words is fortuitous and not at all genetic.

All the Serian words for “water” are one-syllable and end with the k-sound or the aspirated guttural χ, followed by a breath instant (similar to the final e in Mr. Bartlett’s spelling). In contrast, the words in the Yuman group of dialects always end in a vowel or a double vowel, and in 24 out of 31 examples provided, they are two syllables, with some being three syllables long. The Laymon form of the term seems to be the least influenced by usage, and along with the words numbered 5, 6, 7 (Gibbs), 13, 14, 17, and 23, it indicates the genetic nature of the terminal vowel in these words. This suggests that the apparent similarity of the matched words is coincidental and not genetic at all.

In the Serian list of names for “wood” two different words are given, and a third occurs meaning “tree”, perhaps “shrub”. This third word, ehe, is very probably an exotic in the list, and is seemingly of Yuman origin, through its substitution by a Yuman-speaking interpreter for the proper Seri word. The correct term is probably contained in the other word given, ahkáuhkă, “firewood” (McGee); a-ká-hoke, “wood” (Bartlett); akaχχ´ŭkŭŭ, “wood”, Spanish “leña” (Pinart). The base of the word is evidently ahka, a-ka, or aka, signifying “wood”, while uhka, hoke, or χχ´ŭkŭě, is the attributive, meaning “dead” (compare ikoχχe, “to die”, χuaχχ´e, “dead”, kochhe, “dead”). Hence, the compound signifies “dead wood” or “dead timber”, and the correct Seri word for “wood” is very probably ahka, or aka. In 340* giving the names of the time periods M Pinart records an expression that confirms the foregoing analysis. The word in question koneheχkŭě ishshaχ´, which signifies the month in which “se seca el pasto”—i. e., the month “the grass dries, becomes sere”. Now, the element, heχkŭě is evidently identical with χχ´ŭkŭă above, and this rendering should be “the month the grass dies”. Thus it would seem that the term ehe, not being a native Seri word, does not serve to establish relationship with the Yuman.

In the Serian list of names for “wood,” there are two different words provided, along with a third that means “tree,” possibly “shrub.” This third word, ehe, is likely not originally from the list and seems to come from Yuman, as it was used by a Yuman-speaking translator instead of the correct Seri term. The accurate term is likely found in the other word listed, ahkáuhkă, meaning “firewood” (McGee); a-ká-hoke, “wood” (Bartlett); akaχχ´ŭkŭŭ, “wood,” Spanish for “leña” (Pinart). The root of the word is clearly ahka, a-ka, or aka, which means “wood,” while uhka, hoke, or χχ´ŭkŭě serves as the descriptive, meaning “dead” (see ikoχχe, “to die”; χuaχχ´e, “dead”; kochhe, “dead”). Therefore, the compound means “dead wood” or “dead timber,” and the correct Seri word for “wood” is most likely ahka or aka. In 340*, when recording the names of time periods, M Pinart captures a phrase that supports the previous analysis. The word in question, koneheχkŭě ishshaχ´, refers to the month when “se seca el pasto”—meaning “the grass dries, becomes sere.” Now, the element heχkŭě is clearly the same as χχ´ŭkŭă mentioned earlier, and this should be interpreted as “the month the grass dies.” Thus, it appears that the term ehe, being non-native to Seri, does not indicate a connection with the Yuman language.

The compared list of the Serian and the Yuman vocables purporting to denote “die, dead”, show no tokens of relationship.

The side-by-side comparison of the Serian and Yuman words that mean "die, dead" shows no signs of connection.

SERIAN
Sky (the heavens) Rain (cloud)
A. {a-mě´m-ma
{a-měm-ma kwŭ-ĭ´k-pok
{a-měm-ma kŭm-ŭn-kewt-na= “horizon”
{khópka=“rain”; okáltta=“cloud”

{kŭthla=“fog”
B. a-mî-me ip´kakaokuk=“heavy rain” (?)
C. amimme=“sky, heaven” {hipka=“rain, shower”
{χoopka=“it is raining”
{okala kχuauom=“it is cloudy”
D. ammime {ipka=“rain”
{okaxla=“cloud”
YUMAN
21. akwarra bóka
8. iqui kowawakochain
2. o´kve okenedia kivo; kiva, kiwa
3. ama haishunat
24. amâi equi
13. amai k´wus
9. amáia kubaúk; kubaugě=“it is raining”
12. ammai muhheé; ikwi=“cloud”
10. amayaá kivvoga
6. amaya kovauk
1. hámasia=“heavens” ékwi mädshiga
23. emmai quicha
I. embai
15. mâi paou
16. mai (i in like) pow
17. mai qui
4. mâiche oaûk
5. maish
14. may ikvny
11. maya (Renshawe) kw´voga
20. mmái obáuc
22. meya
11. miyá (Gilbert)
7. {ummmayya
{ummáia
{coolowwa; hobauk (Yuma)
{kobauk
18. ûmiyä´ ikwiwó=“rain”; ikwí=“clouds”
19. ěkwi=“clouds”; tíwo=“rain”; ekwariga=“the sky is cloudy”341*

While the seeming resemblance between the Yuman terms for “sky, heaven”, and the Serian vocables of the same meaning is more apparent than real, yet the kinship of the Seri with the Yuman group of languages has been conjectured upon data of which this merely fortuitous similarity was made a factor.

While the apparent similarity between the Yuman words for “sky, heaven” and the Serian words with the same meaning is more superficial than substantial, the connection between the Seri and the Yuman language group has been speculated based on data where this coincidental similarity was considered a factor.

The derivation of the characteristic Yuman term amai, the variants of which constitute, with the exception of three vocables, the entire list here compared, is evidently from the stem of the Mohave amail, “above, on top”, amaile, “higher”, the Yavapai miävi, “up”, and also the Yuma (Bennett’s MS.), amiki, “over”. In the number-names, such as those for “eleven” and “twelve”, this vocable becomes maik and maga in Maricopa, in Bartlett’s Coco-Maricopa, and in Cochimi, and maike in Hummockhave, amike in Yuma (Bennett’s MS.), umaiga and umai in M’mat, amaik in Mohave (Gibbs), mae in Kutchan, amaik in Kutchan (Englehardt), emmia in Santa Catalina; in all the number-names in which these variants occur they have a single meaning, namely, “above, over, on top, added to, plus”. Thus it is evident that the Yuman variants of amai, “sky, the heavens”, are cognate with the auxiliaries or flexions of number-names cited above. Hence, originally the Yuman concept of the “sky” was “the place above, the higher place, or the place on top”.

The origin of the Yuman word amai, whose variations make up nearly the whole list compared here except for three words, clearly comes from the Mohave amail, meaning “above, on top,” amaile, meaning “higher,” the Yavapai miävi, which means “up,” and the Yuma (Bennett’s MS.) amiki, meaning “over.” In the number names for “eleven” and “twelve,” this word appears as maik and maga in Maricopa, in Bartlett’s Coco-Maricopa, and in Cochimi, and maike in Hummockhave, amike in Yuma (Bennett’s MS.), umaiga and umai in M’mat, amaik in Mohave (Gibbs), mae in Kutchan, amaik in Kutchan (Englehardt), emmia in Santa Catalina. In all the number names where these variations occur, they consistently mean “above, over, on top, added to, plus.” Therefore, it’s clear that the Yuman variations of amai, meaning “sky, the heavens,” are related to the prefixes or forms of the number names mentioned above. Thus, originally, the Yuman idea of “sky” referred to “the place above, the higher place, or the place on top.”

The derivation of the Seri vocable amime or aměmma, “sky, the heavens”, while bearing only a fortuitous resemblance to the Yuman terms noted above, is not traceable from the meager material at present accessible. Strictly speaking, the extent of the phonetic similarity between the Yuman and the Seri vocable is the possession of an m-sound in the first syllable, which is evidently the dominant one in the Yuman terms. On the other hand, the Serian vocable has two syllables dominated by the m-sound, and the foregoing explanation of the derivation of the Yuman vocable, if correct, as it seems to be, does not supply any means for explaining this duality of syllables dominated by an m-sound in the Serian term. For unlike the Yuman dialects of the present the Seri tongue does not duplicate the stem of a word or any part thereof for any purpose whatsoever (though in the past the Seri may or may not have had the duplicative process, for a language can not only do what it is accustomed to do, but may at all times acquire new habits). So it would seem that without historical evidence to support it this comparison is invalid as an indication of linguistic kinship between the vocables compared, and its evidence regarding the conjectured relationship of the two groups of languages is negative.

The origin of the Seri word amime or aměmma, meaning “sky, the heavens,” while showing only a coincidental similarity to the Yuman terms mentioned earlier, cannot be traced based on the limited material currently available. To be precise, the phonetic similarity between the Yuman and the Seri word is mainly that both have an m- sound in the first syllable, which is clearly dominant in the Yuman terms. However, the Seri word has two syllables, both of which are dominated by the m- sound. The explanation provided for the Yuman term's origin, if accurate as it appears, does not help explain this two-syllable structure in the Seri term. Unlike the current Yuman dialects, the Seri language does not repeat any part of a word for any reason (although in the past, the Seri might or might not have used such duplication, as languages can evolve and adopt new patterns). Thus, it seems that without historical evidence to support it, this comparison does not confirm a linguistic connection between the words in question, and its evidence regarding the proposed relationship between the two language groups is inconclusive.

SERIAN
Sun Moon Fire Earth
A. sěáhk esschahk a`má`kă ŭmmt; e`k=“dust”
B. schra isah amakinoch am’t
C. shaa ishshaχ´ amak {ashamt=“clay, adobe”
{hamt=“the earth”
D. rahj; tahj amak ampte
YUMAN
I. epan̲g̲ konga maahra ēmat
II. ybo kaglimbák usi akug
III. ibo
IV. ibo; ibunga (Laymon) gamma; ganehmajen usi amet; ammet
1. inyáa häláa oóo
2. nyá h´lá; hallá (White) hoo; weya (White) mata
3. inugh hailiyugh eya; ahi muat
4. enn´yache halyáche n´yakiém máche
5. nyas χilás; χalásh ahaus mát
6. anyá halyá aáua amata 342*
7. {unya
{u̲nyá (Gibbs)
{huala
{hálla (Gibbs)
{ahowwa
{aáuwa (Gibbs)
{amata
{am-má-ta (Gibbs)
8. anya halya chiwaswe á-i
9. anyá hálya aáuwa amat; tciáma
10. inyaá halá a tuga mat
11. nya (Gilbert) hla (Gilbert) otoga (Gilbert)
12. m’yatche huth’lya; hullyar aáwo ōmut amáth (Bennett)
13. ẖuya; hnya? ẖalla ow a-má-ta
14. inyá khilshiá áua mat
15. n’ya hulchyá aáou mut
16. enyah hutl’yah quu mut
17. nya h’kla matuanap mot
18. nyä halá oóh mat; amát; máte
19. nyávi; nyá ’láwe; ’lá óo amat; mata
20. nyá jellá aáu h’mát
21. n’ya hŭllá âá; itshi= “coals” mät
22. enya halá ohó
23. eñai ẖala aau omot
24. enn’yachipáp helchhyá aáou umát

The comparative schedules of the Serian names for “sun” and “moon” exhibit no phonetic evidence of genetic relationship with the collated lists of Yuman vocables of like import.

The comparison of the Serian words for "sun" and "moon" shows no phonetic evidence of a genetic relationship with the compiled lists of similar Yuman words.

Between the Serian names for “fire” and the Yuman terms of like import there is no phonetic accordance indicative of glottologic kinship.

Between the Serian words for “fire” and the Yuman terms with similar meanings, there is no phonetic similarity suggesting a linguistic connection.

It has been supposed, and not without a measure of possibility, that a radical relationship exists between the Serian and the Yuman words denoting “earth”. The supposition rests on the approximate phonetic accordance of two consonants occurring in these terms, quite regardless of the vowel sounds that render them intelligible. The four Seri authorities are in close accord in not hearing and recording a vowel sound between the m and the following t. This final t is apparently explosive, indicated by Mr Bartlett with a prefixed apostrophe and by Sr Tenochio with an e, whose final position would make it faint. The initial h of the record of M Pinart is very probably due to the Yuman-speaking interpreter. Now, in the 26 forms of the Yuman word here collated the vowel intervening between the m and t of the Yuman vocable is strong and characteristic, and in 11 instances it is accented. While the Seri forms are monosyllables, 17 of the 28 Yuman examples are dissyllabic and 3 are trisyllables. The Cocopa muat indicates the persistency of the medial vowel. These differences, admittedly but poorly indicated by the faulty alphabets employed by the several word collectors, are important and significant; were the several terms here compared faithfully recorded as spoken, by means of a discriminative phonetic alphabet, it seems probable that these literal accordances, in view of the marked differences noted above, would disappear. So in the absence of historical evidence of the genetic relationship of the Serian and the Yuman words denoting “earth”, it seems best to regard this literal accordance as fortuitous rather than real or genetic.

It has been suggested, and there is some possibility, that there is a fundamental connection between the Serian and Yuman words for "earth." This idea is based on the similar sounds of two consonants in these words, regardless of the vowel sounds that make them understandable. The four Seri experts agree that there is no vowel sound between the m and the following t. This final t is clearly pronounced, as noted by Mr. Bartlett with a prefixed apostrophe and by Sr. Tenochio with an e, whose placement at the end makes it faint. The initial h in M. Pinart's record likely comes from the Yuman-speaking interpreter. In the 26 variations of the Yuman word collected here, the vowel between the m and t is strong and distinctive, with accents present in 11 cases. While the Seri forms are single-syllable, 17 of the 28 Yuman examples have two syllables, and 3 have three syllables. The Cocopa muat shows that the middle vowel is persistent. These differences, though poorly represented by the imperfect alphabets used by different word collectors, are important and significant; if the terms compared here had been accurately recorded using a precise phonetic alphabet, it seems likely that these literal similarities, given the significant differences noted, would vanish. Therefore, in the absence of historical proof of the genetic link between the Serian and Yuman words for "earth," it seems best to consider this similarity as coincidental rather than genuine or genetic.

SERIAN
Dog Coyote Wolf
A.
B. achks hashokévlch.=“red hasho”
C. aχ´sh vootth χ´ekkos
D. boot 343*
PIMAN
Dog Coyote Wolf
a. cox (Pima, White) serr
b. yocsi (Nevome) vana suhi
c. koks (Pima) pan
d. kocks (Opata) guo
YUMAN
I. ethatta etadwachetibawaha (etadwachetibawaha)
II. masa
1. uhát kathâ´t
2. tsata kethuda mbá
3. cowwaick
4. hatch hatakúltis
5. χát χatelwís; χatelwísh χattekúltis
6. akhatchora kuksara
7. {hotchóuk hooktharu
{hatchóka (Gibbs)
hūkthara (Gibbs)
8. hachochoke hookhare
9. hattcâka (pl. hattcâktca) hukçára
10. akhat gesat
11. hot; aha (Renshawe) kthat; cathă´t (Renshawe)
12. hoowée
13. aẖatchookachook aẖateleeway
14. khat
15. h’hút hutch’kôlk
16. hotchukchuk hutchpah
17. aẖot aẖotoopai
18. kuthá’rt kuthá’rt hána
19. katháta nimmîta (nimiwi)
20. jatsocsóc jatelué
21. a`hat; ahŭt
22. kehér
23. itat milti latkil
24. h’hut
huwi. (Kutchan, Bartlett)
h’takulch

The comparative list of names for “dog” shows that the Seri term was very probably adopted from the Piman group of tongues, and there is therefore no apparent relation between the Serian and the Yuman terms.

The comparison of names for “dog” indicates that the Seri term was likely taken from the Piman language family, and so there doesn’t seem to be any connection between the Serian and Yuman terms.

The Serian name for “coyote” shows no kinship with the Yuman names for this animal.

The Serian word for “coyote” is not related to the Yuman names for this animal.

The Serian names for “wolf”, χ´ekkos and hasho-kévlch (=“red hasho”), show no apparent linguistic relationship to the Yuman names for this animal. It is possible that the Serian terms have some affinity to the Piman terms for “dog” and “wolf”.

The Serian names for “wolf,” χ´ekkos and hasho-kévlch (=“red hasho”), do not seem to have any clear connection to the Yuman names for this animal. It’s possible that the Serian terms are related to the Piman terms for “dog” and “wolf.”

Notwithstanding the unqualified conclusion of Herr J. C. E. Buschmann as to the separateness of the Waïcuri (Guaicuri), the late Dr Daniel G. Brinton, in positive terms, though from adverse evidence deduced from precarious data, included this and the Seri tongue in the Yuman stock of languages. Speaking of a comparative list of words specially selected from the Cochimi, Waïcuri, Seri, and Yuma, he says: “The above vocabularies illustrate the extension of the Yuman stock to the southward. The Cochimi and Waïcuri are remote dialects, but of positive affinities.”342 Yet of seven terms selected by him from the Waïcuri to prove these 344* “positive affinities” not one has any phonetic accordance with the term with which it is compared. This, it would seem, should have sufficed to eliminate the Waīcuri from the Yuman stock. Pending further research, this language should stand independently.

Despite the clear conclusion of Herr J. C. E. Buschmann regarding the distinct nature of the Waïcuri (Guaicuri), the late Dr. Daniel G. Brinton, using questionable evidence from unreliable data, included both this language and the Seri in the Yuman language family. Referring to a comparative list of words carefully chosen from the Cochimi, Waïcuri, Seri, and Yuma, he stated: “The above vocabularies illustrate the expansion of the Yuman stock to the south. The Cochimi and Waïcuri are distant dialects, but have clear relationships.”342 However, of seven words he chose from the Waïcuri to support these “clear relationships,” not one shows any phonetic similarity to the words they are compared with. This should have been enough to exclude the Waïcuri from the Yuman family. Until more research is done, this language should be considered independent.

Of the conjectured glottologic kinship of the Seri to the Yuman stock Dr Brinton says:343 “The relationship of the dialect to the Yuman stock is evident.” Yet out of twenty-one terms which he chose to exhibit the grounds of his faith only six (those for “tongue”, “eye”, “head”, “water”, “man”, and “teeth”) show any definite phonetic resemblance. This number, however, can certainly be reduced by careful scrutiny. Thus, he cites the Laymon and Cochimi tamá as a cognate of the Seri eketam. The Laymon and Cochimi term, it must be remembered, does not occur in this form in a single other tongue admittedly Yuman. Now, before this vague resemblance can establish relationship it must first be shown that the terms compared have a common linguistic tradition and that a form of tamá is or has been an element common to the other dialects of the Yuman group. But an analysis of the Cochimi term shows no trustworthy ground for considering these terms related. So this certainly reduces the number of conjectured accordances to five.

Of the proposed linguistic connection between the Seri and the Yuman stock, Dr. Brinton states:343 “The relationship of the dialect to the Yuman stock is evident.” However, out of twenty-one terms he selected to support his argument, only six (for “tongue,” “eye,” “head,” “water,” “man,” and “teeth”) show any clear phonetic similarity. This number can definitely be lowered with more careful examination. For instance, he mentions the Laymon and Cochimi word tamá as a related term to the Seri eketam. It's important to note that the Laymon and Cochimi word does not appear in this form in any other language considered to be Yuman. Before this vague similarity can confirm a relationship, it must first be demonstrated that the terms being compared share a common linguistic tradition and that a form of tamá is or has been present in the other dialects of the Yuman group. However, an analysis of the Cochimi word provides no reliable basis for considering these terms related, which definitely reduces the number of suggested connections to five.

Comparison is made by Dr Brinton between the Serian ata´st (îtast, hitast), “tooth” and “teeth” (collectively), and the vocable ehdoh (Lieutenant Bergland’s), “tooth”, variants of which are common to only three of the twenty-odd Yuman dialects. He made this comparison evidently under the impression that the first part of the Seri term ata´st (itast, hitast) signifies “tooth”. But such is not the fact. The first part of this Seri vocable signifies “mouth” (as may be seen in the discussion of the comparative list of names for “tooth”) and the latter part “stone”. The term îtast, “tooth”, is, therefore, literally “stone of the mouth”. This is certainly not the signification of the Yuman terms, and so the comparison is invalid, and the number of apparent accordances is reduced to four. By some oversight it seems Dr Brinton omitted from this comparison the Cochimi hastaá, “tooth”; but this collocation has been made by others. Now, this term hastaá belongs exclusively to the Cochimi dialect, and before becoming a means of comparison would have to be shown to be a vocable common to the body of Yuman terms having a common linguistic tradition, which has not been done. Moreover, the phonetic obstacles barring a way to a fruitful comparison of this term with the Serian are quite insuperable—the assumed loss of the first half of the Seri term, the acquirement by the Cochimi of the initial h sound and of the final accented syllables -aá, or the converse process. This, it seems safe to say, renders this comparison likewise invalid.

Dr. Brinton compares the Serian ata´st (îtast, hitast), meaning “tooth” and “teeth” (together), with the term ehdoh (from Lieutenant Bergland), meaning “tooth.” Variants of this term are found in only three of the twenty or so Yuman dialects. He seems to believe that the first part of the Seri word ata´st (itast, hitast) means “tooth,” but that's not correct. The first part of this Seri word actually means “mouth” (as discussed in the comparative list of names for “tooth”), and the second part means “stone.” So, the term îtast, meaning “tooth,” literally translates to “stone of the mouth.” This is definitely not the meaning of the Yuman terms, making the comparison invalid, and reducing the number of apparent similarities to four. It appears Dr. Brinton overlooked the Cochimi hastaá, meaning “tooth,” in this comparison; however, others have made that connection. This term hastaá is exclusive to the Cochimi dialect, and to be considered a point of comparison, it would need to be demonstrated as a term common to the Yuman dialects with a shared linguistic background, which hasn’t been established. Additionally, the phonetic barriers that prevent a meaningful comparison between this term and the Serian terms are significant—the presumed loss of the first part of the Seri word, the Cochimi gaining the initial h sound, and the final accented syllables -aá, or the reverse. Therefore, it’s safe to conclude that this comparison is also invalid.

The Seri term intlash, “hand”, has certainly no phonetic accordance with the peculiar Yuman israhl, which is from the Yuma or Kutchan record of Lieutenant Eric Bergland, nor, indeed, has it any accordance with any other Yuman term for hand. The presence of the r sound in it supplies the peculiar feature of the term; but it may be used only to lengthen the following vowel (though this is only an assumption). This form is peculiar because there is none like it in about thirty Yuma vocabularies, representing about twenty dialects, in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. A careful inspection of the comparative list of the Seri and the Yuman names for “arm”, “hand”, “finger”, “thumb”, and “fingernail” will demonstrate the utter futility of the comparison under consideration, for there is no accordance between the Seri and the Yuman terms.

The Seri word intlash, meaning “hand,” clearly doesn’t match the unique Yuman word israhl, which comes from Lieutenant Eric Bergland's Yuma or Kutchan records. In fact, it doesn’t align with any other Yuman word for hand either. The presence of the r sound in it adds a distinct characteristic to the term, but it may simply serve to elongate the following vowel (though that’s just a theory). This form is unusual because there aren’t any similar examples in around thirty Yuma vocabularies, which cover about twenty dialects, found in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. A detailed comparison of the Seri and Yuman words for “arm,” “hand,” “finger,” “thumb,” and “fingernail” will clearly show that any comparison here is pointless, as there is no correspondence between the Seri and Yuman terms.

Elsewhere herein, in discussing the terms for “head” and “hair”, “eye”, “tongue”, and “water”, it is shown that there is no apparent linguistic relationship between the Serian terms on the one hand and the Yuman on the other, and those explanations dissipate entirely the suspected accordances of Dr Brinton.

Elsewhere in this text, when discussing the terms for “head” and “hair,” “eye,” “tongue,” and “water,” it is evident that there is no clear linguistic connection between the Serian terms and the Yuman terms. These explanations completely dispel the suspected similarities proposed by Dr. Brinton.


Index

A   B   C   D   E   F   G   H   I   J   K   L   M  
N   O   P   Q   R   S   T   U   V   W   Y   Z
A
Adelphiarchy, characters of, 276*
Sibling marriage, traces of, among Seri, 281*, 283*
Adoption among Seri, 277*-279*
African archery stance, 201*, 202*
Agave fiber, Seri use of, in making rope, 228*-230*
Ahst, definition of, 234*-235*
, specimens of, 235*-238*
Hernando de Alarcon, explorations by, 53
Alcaraz, Diego, attack on Seri (?) by, 54-55
Alegre, F.J., on Escalante's expedition, 61
, on Parilla's "extermination", 73-74
, on Seri habitat and tribal divisions, 78
, on Seri navigation, 61
Extraterrestrials, Seri antipathy for, 131*-132*, 154*-155*
Ruperto Alvarez, aid rendered by, 14
Alvemar-Leon, Asturo, acknowledgments to, 13
, portrait of, 13
Francisco Andrade, campaign against Seri by, 88-93
Los Angeles, location, duration, and size of, 69-71
Pets of Seriland, 36-39
Anton, aid rendered by, 14
Aquarius gadgets, Seri, 182*-186*
Marine life of Seriland, 38-39
Victor Araiza, attack on Seri by, 88
Archery, Seri, 197*, 255*-256*
Archery gear, Seri, 198*-200*
Archery stance, African, 201*, 202*
, Seri, 200*-201*
, Von Bayer's photograph of, 106
Tristan de Arellano, foundation of Corazones by, 53
Arm, Serian and Yuman names for, 330-332*
Arricivita, J.D., on Bernabe mission, 80, 81
, on Seri tribal relations, 82
Arrow, Seri, construction of, 197*-198*
, Seri, decoration of, 175*
, Seri, genesis of, 198*-199*
, Seri, relation to harpoon and fire-drill of, 198*-199*
, use of, 255*-256*
Arrowheads, iron, of Seri, 247*-248*
, Seri, construction and attachment of, 198*
, stone, of Seri, 198*, 246*-247*
Arrow poison, Seri, character of, 256*-259*
, travelers' accounts of, 54, 78, 87, 97, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105
Artifacts of Seri, classes of, 248*-249*
Juan de la Asunción, explorations by, 51
Indigenous origin of Seri, 12, 268*
Awls, Seri, 230*
B
Not good, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Baegert, Jacob, map by, 66
on Californian food habits, 209*-212*
Balsa wood, Seri, characters and construction of, 10, 216*-221*
, Seri, decoration of, 173*
, Seri, methods of propulsion of, 219*
, Seri, Von Bayer's drawings of, 106
Bancroft, H.H., notes on Seri by, 104-105
on Escalante expedition, 61
Bandelier, Adolf, classification of Seri by, 108
, identifications by, 51, 52, 55, 56
Bartiromo, Melchor, mission work of, 61, 67
Bartlett, J.R. on Opata running, 125
on the Seri, 96-97
, Seri vocabulary collected by, 97-99, 296*, 299*
Basket weaving, Seri, characters of, 10, 208*-209*
, Seri, decoration of, 175*
Beacon markers, definition of, 168*
Berger, aid rendered by, 13
Bernabe, Crisóstomo Gil de, establishment of mission by, 80-82
Living traits of Seri, 133*
Bird, Serian and Tuman names for, 332*-333*
Birds of Seriland, 37, 38
Black, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 335*-336*
Blood, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 334*-335*
Bloodlust, Seri, 188*, 203*-204*, 262*-263*, 265*
Blue, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 335*-336*
Boca Inferno, tides and currents in, 46-47
Body, responsivity of, 268*-269*
Bone, Serian and Yuman names for, 333*-334*
Bow, Seri, decoration of, 175*
, Seri, genesis and construction of, 199*, 200*
Brinton, D.G., classification of Seri and Waïkuri by, 108, 343*-344*
Brobdingnagians, possible originals of, 53-54
Brown, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 335*-336*
Buena and Mayor, Mariano Antonio, plan for Seri mission by, 80
Building chant, Seri, 223*-224*
Carrying burdens by Seri, 149*
Donkeys, Seri method of hunting, 204*-205*
Buschmann, J.C.E., classification of Seri by, 300*
, notes on Seri by, 99
C
Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, observations on Seri by, 51
Manuel Cabrera, on Seri in Pueblo Seri, 88
Cactuses of Seriland, 33-35
, Seri harvest of, 206*-208*
Candelaria, clan symbol of, 165*
, face-painting by, 166*
, portrait of, 164*
Cannibalism of Seri, 56, 117, 119
Capture, absence of, in Seri marriage, 285*
Carrizal, occurrence of, in Seriland, 36
, Seri use of, in balsa-making, 216*-217*
Cassanate, Pedro Portel de, expedition of, 57
Anton Castillo, aid rendered by, 14
Cows, Seri method of hunting, 204*-205*
Graveyards of Seriland, 289*
Centralization of Seri body, 138*
Opportunities, influence of, on Seri life and mind, 266*, 267*-268*
Character of Seri, 83, 85, 92,95, 96-97, 100-101, 102, 103, 106
Charm trophies, Seri, 259*-261*
Cheerleading of Seri, 157*-158*
Leadership among Seri, 275*-277*
Flaked stone implements in Seriland, scarcity of, 241*-242*, 246*-247*
Cimarrones-Migueletes war, record of, 83
Society, autonomy of, 176*-177*
Clams, Seri method of taking and eating, 195*
Clan structure, Seri, 10-11, 166*-167*, 168*-169*, 269*-274*
Clark, W. P. on Kiowa divisions, 22
Categories, of Serian stock, 127-128, 300*, 344*
Clavijero, F.J., on Californian food habits, 209*, 212*
Climate of Sonoran Province, 23-25
Clothes, genesis of, 231*-232*
, Seri, 10, 224*-232*
, Seri, decoration of, 171*-173*
Cloud storage, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 340*-341*
Pavers, Seri use of, as tools and weapons, 234*-246*, 248*, 255*
Cocomaques, classification of, 102, 103, 104, 130*
Color of Seri, 137*-138*
Concepts, Serian and Yuman, comparative analysis of, 321*-344*
Alejo Garcia Conde, expedition sent against Seri by, 83
Marital desire, law of, as applied to Seri, 162*-163*
Consag, Ferdinando, explorations and map by, 65
José Contreras, aid rendered by, 14
Cables, Seri, 227*-230*
Coronado, F. V., explorations by, 53-55
Corral, Ramón, acknowledgments to, 12, 14, 20
Cortez, José, on Seri, 83-84
Costa Rica, establishment of, 109
Coues, Elliott, on Kino's route, 60
on massacre at Caborca, 77
Covens, Jean, maps published by, 63-64
Coyote, Serian, Piman, and Yuman names for, 342*-343*
Crab, place of, in Seri dietary, 195*
Cribs, Seri, 226*, 227*
Cuervo, José Store, campaign against Seri by, 75
Cunningham, ——, aid rendered by, 13
Mugs, Seri, 185*-186*
Trends of Seri waters, 45-47
Cushing, F.H., acknowledgments to, 20
, on development of bow, 201*
, on meaning of calumet-tomahawk, 168*
, on stages of technic, 250*
, on Zuñi marriage customs, 286*
D
D'anville, ——, map by, 64
Dávila, F.T., on Hurdaide expedition, 55
on Seri population, 71
on Seri wars and raids, 79, 94
Deceased, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 338*-340*
Deceased, Seri treatment of, 11-12, 287*-295*
Death, Seri ideas concerning, 292*-293*
Decor, Seri, 10, 164*-179*
, Seri, significance of, 176*-179*
, Seri, travelers' accounts of, 78, 101
Deer, Seri chase of, 196*
Defense, Seri methods of, 265*
Deformation of Seri bodies, 148*
Delisle, William, maps by, 56, 63, 64
De Mofras, Duflot, on Seri population, 87-88, 135*
Popular characters of Seri, 10-12, 164*-344*
Deserted, solidarity of life in, 32, 37
, solidarity, Seri failure to participate in, 133*
Encinas Desert, features of, 39-41
DeWitt, Fredericus, maps by, 56, 62
George Dewey, explorations in Seriland by, 105-106, 200*-201*
, notes on Seri by, 106
Diaz, Melchior, explorations by, 54-55
Die, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 338*-340*
Diet, Seri, estimate of, 214*-215*
William Dinwiddie, acknowledgments to, 20
, work of, 13
Directive markings, discussion of, 167*-168*
Plates, Seri, 185*-186*
Dog, Serian, Yuman and Piman names for, 297*, 342*-343*
Dominguez, ——, cited on establishment of post at Pitic, 72
Cups, Seri, 185*-186*
Ducks, Seri methods of catching, 191*
Homes, Seri, 221*-224*
, Seri, location of, 148*-149*
Planet Earth, Serian and Yuman names for, 341*-342*
E
Self-centeredness, Seri, 133*, 154*-155*
The Little Hell, characters of, 45-47
Domingo Elizondo, campaign against Seri by, 75
The Mute, account of Porter-Johnson episode by, 121-122
Anita Encinas, acknowledgments to, 20
Pascual Encinas, acknowledgments to, 13, 14, 20
, effect on Seri of rule of, 114-115
, establishment of ranches by, 109, 113
, portrait of, 13
, relation to Seri of, 109-114, 277*, 278*
on Seri archery posture, 201*
on Seri bodily mutilations, 169*
on Seri population, 113, 135*
, visit to Seriland by, 111
, war with Seri by, 112
Environment, adjustment of Seri to, 157*-163*
, influence on Seri technic and mentality of, 266*, 268*-269*
, progressive freedom from, 295*
Escalante, Juan Bautista de, expeditions against Seri by, 60-61, 70
Escudero, D. J. A. de, on Seri, 93
Espence, Tomás, campaign against Seri by, 88-93
on Seri, 91-92
Aesthetic, development, Seri, 164*-179*
motives, importance of, in human progress, 176*-179*
Estrafort, Guillermo, chart by, 69
Ethnic marriage, characters of, 283*-287*
Examiner situation, history of, 117-120
Exploring, recent, in Seriland, 12-21
Eye, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 327*-328*
F
Face, Serian and Yuman names for, 327*-328*
Face painting, Seri, apparatus for, 165*-166*
, Seri, designs of, 165*
, Seri, distribution of, 164*
, Seri, meaning of designs used in, 166*-169*
Family, Seri, regimentation of, 270*-274*
Wildlife of Seriland, 36-39
Feather, Serian and Yuman names for, 332*-333*
Kinks, Seri, 86-87, 185*, 259*-261*, 265*, 290*
Ceramic art, Seri, 182*-185*
Finger, Nail, Serian and Yuman names for, 330*-332*
Fire, Serian and Yuman names for, 341*-342*
, Seri concept of, 199*-200*
Guns, Seri use of, 259*-261*
Fire drill, Seri, meaning of name of, 199*-200*
, Seri, relation to arrow and harpoon of, 198*-199*
Fish, Seri methods of catching and eating, 193*-194*
Speed of Seri, 149*-152*
Plants of Seriland, 31-36
Fog bushes of Seriland, 36
Food and food-getting, Seri, 9, 77, 91-92, 180*-215*
, classification of, 180*-181*
, Seri, estimated quantities of, 214*-215*
, Seri method of dividing, 272*-273*
Foot, Serian and Yuman names for, 328*-330*
Fortress, Seri lack of, 265*
Franciscan monks, advent into Sonora of, 79
, foundation of mission in Seriland by, 80-82
, records of Seri by, 82
Fronani, Emanuele, acknowledgments to, 21
Fruit, Seri consumption of, 206*-208*
Functional quirks of Seri body, 148*-163*
G
Strong winds of Seri waters, 47-49
José Gallardo, on Seri language, 78
Game, Seri methods of killing, 196*-205*
Video games, Seri, 10
Gatschet, A.S., classification of Serian family by, 108
on Pinart's visit to Seri, 106
Earth Science of Sonoran province, 26, 30-31
Gilg, Adan, shriving of Seri captives by, 60
Gillen, F.J., on Australian marriage customs, 285*
Good, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Goode, G.B., acknowledgments to, 20
Government, Seri, 275*-277*
Grasses, of Seriland, 36
Awesome, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Green, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 335*-336*
Guaymas, establishment of, 74
Guayma people, language and classification of, 96, 98, 99, 101, 102, 103, 104, 108, 130*
, synonymy of, 129*
Sea of Cortez, tides and currents of, 45-49
Guzman, Nuño de, explorations by, 51
Gyles, John, on Abnaki marriage customs, 282*
H
Ecosystem, Seri, 22-50
Hair, Seri, 139*-140*
, Serian and Yuman names for, 324*-327*
, Seri use of, in making cord, 227*-229*
Hair styling, Seri, 220*-227*
Hakluyt, R., on Ulloa's explorations, 52, 53
"Half-marriage", characters of, 285*
Hand, Serian and Yuman names for, 330*-332*
Handfasting, comparison of, with Seri marriage custom, 285*
Hands, Seri habitual use of, 152*-154*
Hardy, R.W.H., adoption of, among Seri, 277*-278*
, explorations in Seriland by, 85-86
, map by, 86
on Seri arrow-poisoning, 87
on Seri character, 85-87
on Seri decoration, 170*
on Seri fishing devices, 193*
on Seri marriage, 87
on Seri medicine-bag, 86-87
on Seri navigation, 86
on Seri physique, dress, and implements, 86
on Seri population, 135*
on Seri tribal relations, 87
on Seri turtle-fishing, 188*
Hare, chase of, by Seri, 196*-197*
Harpoon gun, Seri, iron points of, 247*-248*
, Seri, original point of, 190*
, Seri, relation to arrow and fire-drill of, 198*-199*
Head, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 324*-327*
Headscarf, absence of, among Seri, 225*
Wow, Serian and Yuman names for, 340*-341*
Hermosillo, adoption of present name of, 84
, establishment of post on site of, 72
Wilhelm Herzog, classification of Seri by, 108
Hewitt, J.N.B., acknowledgments to, 21
, comparative lexicology of Seri language by, 299*-344*
, translation of Onondaga mourning ritual by, 288*
Hilder, F.F., acknowledgments to, 20-21
History of Seri, 51-122
Hodge, F.W., acknowledgments to, 20
, identifications by, 53, 55
Horsehair, Seri use of, in making cord, 228*-229*
Horses, Seri method of hunting, 204*
Hough, Walter, on fire-making apparatus, 199*-200*
Homes of Seri, 221*-224*
of Seri, decoration of, 173*
of Seri, location of, 148*-149*
Hrdlička, Aleš, acknowledgments to, 21
, report on Seri skeletons by, 140*-147*
Alexander von Humboldt, map by, 84
, observations on Seri by, 84
Hunting, Seri methods of, 150*-151*, 201*-202*
Hupf, definition of, 234*-235*
, specimens of, 235*, 237*-245*
, type of, 245*-246*
, uses of, 238*-239*
Hurdaide, Diego Martinez de, explorations by, 55
Water management of Seriland, 28-30
of Sonoran province, 25-28, 31
I
Iaillot, H., map by, 63
Ibarra, Francisco de, explorations by, 55
Idobro, General, attempt to found Seri pueblo by, 72
Ill, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Tools, Seri, 10, 187*, 189*, 193*, 197*-200*, 217*, 230*, 232*-254*
Indian, Serian and Yuman names for, 321*-324*
Industrial growth, outline of, 249*-253*
Industries, Seri, 10, 180*-269*
Bugs of Seriland, 37
Iron, Seri use of, for arrow and harpoon points, 187*, 189*, 198*, 247*-248*, 249*
Iroquois, mortuary customs of, 288*
Pigeon Islands, San Esteban, Tassne, and Turner, features of, 49
Isolation of Seri, 130*-134*, 154*-155*
Juan Iturbi, expedition of, 56
J
Jacales, Seri, characters and construction of, 221*-224*
, Seri, decoration of, 173*
, Seri, location of, 148*-149*
Jecker & Co., survey attempted by, 99
Jesuits, advent in Sonora of, 57
, expulsion from Sonora of, 77
, influence on Seri of, 70, 72
, knowledge of Seri possessed by, 76, 79
, records of Seri by, 77-79
Johnson, W.D., acknowledgments to, 20
, aid rendered by, 14, 15
K
Kappus, M.A., a companion of Kino, 57
Electric kettles, Seri, 185*
Kilt, Seri, characters of, 224*-225*
, Seri, origin of, 231*-232*
Family, identification of, among Seri, 272*
Kino, Eusebio Francisco, explorations by, 57-60
, created by, 64
Rudyard Kipling, on zoic concept of fire, 199*
Knife skills, Seri lack of, 152*-153*, 206*
Kolusio, acknowledgments to, 14, 21
, connection with Señor Encinas of, 109
, description of, 98
, knowledge of Seri language possessed by, 99
, outlawry of, 113
, vocabularies given by, 95-96, 97-99, 102, 107, 296*
Kunkaak, meaning of, 121-126
Kwakiutl, marriage customs among, 286*
L
Langley, S.P., acknowledgments to, 20
Language, Guayma, notes on, 78, 96, 101
, Seri, 10, 78, 95-96, 97, 101, 102, 103, 104, 108, 296*-344*
Big, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Lavandera, Diego, Seri vocabulary collected by, 95-96, 296*
John Lawson, on Carolina Indian marriage customs, 282*-283*
Leal, Fernando, acknowledgments to, 20
Leg, Serian and Yuman names for, 333*-334*
Leon, Francisco Ponce de, campaign against Seri by, 88-93
Lewis, José, aid rendered by, 13
Lexicon, comparative, of Serian language, 299*-344*
Lizazoin, Tomás Ignacio, on Seri ravages, 75-76
Lozania, Ygnacio, aid rendered by, 14
, remembrance of Andrade-Espence expedition by, 92
on Seri charm-trophies, 260*
, portrait of, 13
Lubbock, Sir John, cited on primitive marriage 284*
Carl Lumholtz, on Tarahumari running, 125
Lyons, W.J., aid rendered by, 14
, reported concession to, on Tiburon, 122
M
McGee, W.J., memoir by, on Seri Indians 1-344*
McLennan, J.F., on primitive marriage, 284*
Maldonado, Rodríguez, explorations by, 53
Malte-Brun, V.A., classification of Seri by, 104
Man, Serian and Yuman names for, 321*-324*
Mange, Juan Mateo, account of Escalante's expeditions by, 60-61
, itinerary of Kino's explorations by 57-60
Manual development of Seri, 157*-158*
Maps of Gulf of California coast, 55-56, 62-66, 94
Mariana, aid rendered by, 14
Coastal erosion on shores of Seriland, 45
Marline spikes, Seri, 217*
Wedding traditions Seri, 11, 87, 92, 158*, 279*-287*
, Seri, parallels to, 282*-283*
Mashém, acknowledgments to, 21
, clothing of, 115, 225*-226*
, early history of, 109
, information given by, 123, 134*, 135*, 169*, 201*, 213*, 256*, 257*, 270*, 281*, passim
, portraits of, 13, 146*
, rank of, 277*
, stature of, 137*
, vocabulary given by, 21, 296*
Chaperones, prominence of, in Seri socialry, 269*-274*
, prominence of, in Seri funeral rites, 287*-292*
Maturity, Seri arrival at, 137*
Guys, Seri, duties of, 273*-274*
Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, explorations by, 51
Juan Antonio de Mendoza, attacks on Seri by, 75
on Seri neglect of dead, 287*
Mesquite, occurrence of, in Seriland, 32
, Seri consumption of beans of, 207*
, Seri use of fiber of, in making rope, 228*-230*
Metal, Seri use of, 247*-248*, 249*
Metal stage of technic, definition of, 253*
Miguel, aid rendered by, 14
Millard, S.C., aid rendered by, 14
Mindset, responsivity of, 268*-269*
Missions, influence on Seri of, 76
Mitchell, J.W., acknowledgments to, 20
, work of, 14
Mitchell, S.W., acknowledgments to, 21
, examination of poisoned arrows by, 256*
Moll, Herman, map by, 56, 62
Monogamous character of Seri marriage, 285*
Moon, Serian and Yuman names for, 341*-342*
James Mooney, acknowledgments to, 20
Morgan, L. H., on primitive marriage, 284*
Mortar, Corneille, maps published by, 63-64
Funeral customs, Seri, 11-12, 212*-213*, 287*-295*
Grieving, among the Seri, 12, 292*
Mühlenpfordt, Eduard, map by, 66
, notes on Seri by, 94-95
Mutilation of Seri body, 169*-170*
Nacameri, location and duration of, 69-70
N
Nadal, Pedro, explorations by, 51
Nail care, Seri use of, 154*
Names of Seri tribe, 9, 123-130*
Survival of the fittest among Seri, 157*-159*
Navarro, Cayetano, attack on Seri by, 116
Navigation, Seri, 10, 49, 61, 67, 82, 106, 215*-221*
, Seri, effect on race of, 159*
of the Seri, 172*
Niza, Marcos de, explorations and observations by, 51-52
Noah's Ark, place of, in Seri dietary, 195*
Naming system of Seriland, 15-20
of Serian stock, 9, 123-130*
Andrés Noriega, aid rendered by, 14
on Seri archery posture, 201*
on Seri charm-trophies, 260*
on Seri fishing devices, 193*-194*
on Seri neglect of dead, 287*
Norris, Hugh, aid rendered by, 14
Nose, Serian and Yuman names for, 324*-327*
Numerals, importance of, in linguistic classification, 300*-301*
, Serian and Yuman, comparative lists and analyses of, 303*-321*
O
Ober, F.A., photograph furnished by, 115
Oh, Joseph, on Seri decoration, 78, 170*
Okatilla, Seri use of, in jacal-building, 221*
Old, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 336*-337*
Pots, Indian, table of relative capacity of, 183*
, Seri, adaptation to function of, 184*
, Seri, character and capacity of, 182*-183*
, Seri, decoration of, 173*-175*
, Seri, method of manufacture of, 183*-184*
, Seri, method of using, 184*
Omada, Jesus, denunciation of Seri by, 116
Omaha, marriage customs of, 286*
Opata, swiftness of, 125
Orientation of Seri jacales, 222*
Manuel Orozco y Berra, classification of Serian family by, 102-103
, map by, 103
, notes on Seri by, 103
José Ortega, on Kino's explorations, 57
Anton Ortiz, aid rendered by, 14
Otondo and Antillon, Isidro, expedition of, 57
, mountain named by, 63
Outlaw status among Seri, 273*
Oyster, place of, in Seri dietary, 195*
P
Pajeken, Clemens A., notes on Seri by, 100-101
Stone Age class of artifacts, discussion of, 252*
Papago, feeling of, concerning invasion of Seriland, 130*-131*
, installment of, as guards of Costa Rica, 120-121
, swiftness of, 126
, woman, capture and enslavement of, by Seri, 278*-279*
Papagueria, exploration in, 12
Parilla, Diego Ortiz, "extermination" of Seri by, 73-74
Stones, Seri, use of, as tools and weapons, 234*-246*, 248*, 255*
Walking habit of Seri, 149*-152*, 157*
Pelican, Seri method of catching and eating, 190*-191*
, Seri use of skin of, in making clothing, 171*, 231*-232*
Peñafiel, Antonio, on Seri name, 95
People, Serian and Yuman names for, 321*-324*
Regular conjugation, law of, 161*-162*
Physical traits, of Seri, 9, 86, 91, 100, 101, 102, 103, 133*, 136*-163*
Francisco Pimentel, on meaning of name Seri, 95
, study of Seri language by, 101-102, 296*, 299*
Pinart, Alphonse L., study of Seri language by, 106-108, 296*, 299*
Juan de Pineda, campaign against Seri by, 75
Dragon fruit, occurence of, in Seriland, 34
Pitic, establishment of post at, 72
Plants of Seriland, 31-36
Polyandry, traces of, among Seri, 281*, 283*
Polyamory, among Seri, 11, 279*
Population, Seri, 71, 87, 95, 96, 100, 113, 134*-135*
People, location, duration, and size of, 69-71
Porpoise, place of, in Seri dietary, 193*
Porter-Johnson incident, account of, 121-122
Ceramics of Seri, 10, 182*-185*
Powell, J. W., classification of Seri by, 108
Pownall, Governor, map by, 61
Rainfall in Sonoran province, 24-25
Ancient art of Seriland, 12
Pronouns, importance of, in linguistic classification, 300*-301*
Pronouns, Serian and Yuman, comparative lists of, 302*-303*
Real Estate, Seri division of, 269*-270*, 272*-273*
Protolith stage of technic defined, 251*, 252*
Pueblo Serí, brief history of, 93-94
, establishment of, 72-73
, Mexicanization of, 84
Q
Queretaro University, sending of friars to Sonora by, 79
R
Race awareness, Seri, 154*-155*, 160*-163*
Race type, Seri, 160*
Rain, Serian and Yuman names for, 340*-341*
José F. Ramirez, classification of Seri by, 96
, Seri vocabulary studied by, 95-96, 296*
Ramusio, citation from collection of, 52
Red, Serian and Yuma words meaning, 334*-335*
Faith, Seri, 86-87, 92, 101, 102
José Maria Retio, on Seri population, 87, 135*
Responsiveness of mind and body, 268*-269*
Ribas, Andrés Pérez de, on cannibalism among Mexican Indians, 56
on Seri, 56
on Seri population, 135*
Rio Bacuache, sketch of, 26-28
Pedro de Rivera, on Seri conversion, 70, 71
Robinson episode, history of, 117
Seal Rock, features of, 49
Rockhill, W.W., acknowledgments to 20
Romero, Don Mate, acknowledgments to 20
"Rudo Practice", authorship of, 70
on Seri arrow-poison, 78
on Seri character and conversion, 77
on Seri population, 71
on Seri language, habitat, etc., 78
on Sonoran missions, 71
Running of Seri, 149*-152*
S
Saguaro cactus, characters of, 33-34
Saguesa, characters of, 33-34
Salish, marriage customs of, 286*
Salsipuedes, discussion of name, 65
Juan Maria Salvatierra, visit to Seriland by, 67, 69
Sandbars of Seriland, features of, 42
Santa Magdalena de Tepoca, location and duration of, 69-70
Brutality, automacy of, 176*-177*
Sawyer, W.M., acknowledgments to, 20
Scat eating, Seri, 209*-213*
, Seri, connected with mortuary customs, 289*, 291*
Scottish marriage customs, 285*
Seale, R.W., map by, 63
Sealskin, Seri utensil repaired with, 193*
Seaweed, Seri consumption of, 207*
"Second harvest" of Seri and Californian Indians, 209*-213*
Seneca, marriage customs of, 286*
Seri tribe, memoir on, 1-344*
Seriland, area of, 22
, climate of, 23-25
, communality of life in, 32, 37, 133*
, fauna of, 36-39
, flora of, 31-36
, local features of, 39-50
, location of, 22
, maps of, 62-66
, physical characteristics of, 22-31
, precipitation in, 24-25
, temperature of, 23-24
, water of, 28-30, 181*
Seri rivers, tides, currents, and gales of, 45-49
Ernest Seton-Thompson, on animal markings, 167*
Shamanism among Seri, 274*
Sheet flow erosion in Sonoran province, 25-26
Seafood, place of, in Seri dietary, 195*
Shells, Seri use of, as cups, 185*-186*
, Seri use of, as tools, 233*-234*
Sierra Kunkaak, features of, 23, 42
Sierra Menor, features of, 23, 43
Sierra Series, features of, 23, 41-42
Silsbee, T.H., on Porter-Johnson episode, 122
Siméon, Rémi, classification of Serian family by, 104
Skeleton, Seri, characteristics of, 140*-147*
Skin care, Seri methods of, 227*
Skin tint, Seri, 137*-138*
Skull, Seri, 141*, 142*-144*
Sky, Serian and Yuman names for, 340*-341*
Tiny, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 337*-338*
Smith, Buckingham, identification by, 51
, notes on Seri by, 101
Social development, stages of, 293*
Social organization of Seri, 10-11, 269*-295*
Social Media, Seri, place of, 293*-295*
Body-based characters of Seri, 9, 136*-163*
Sonora, Juan María de, on Seri, 66-67
Sonora Province, climate of, 23-25
, definition of, 22
, fauna of, 36-39
, flora of, 31-36
, geology of, 26, 30-31
, hydrography of, 25-28, 31
, physical characteristics of, 22-31
, precipitation in, 24-25
, sheetflood erosion in, 25-26
, temperature of, 23-24
Southworth, J.R., on concession for exploration of Tiburon, 122
Herbert Spencer, on primitive marriage, 284*, 285*
Sponge, use of, as jacal covering, 222*
Squirrel, Seri tabu of, 203*
Standard labels, definition of, 168*
Status of Seri, 136*-137*
Stirpiculture among Seri, 158*, 284*
Inventory, Seri consumption of, 205*
, Seri methods of killing, 204*-205*
Charles P. Stone, identification by, 51
, notes on Seri by, 99-100
Stone tools, Seri, census of, 248*
, Seri, classes of, 10, 234*-235*, 248*-249*, 255*
, specimens of, 235*-247*
Storms of Seri waters, 45-47
Strait of Anian, belief in, 55-56
Sunshine, Serian and Yuman names for, 341*-342*
Polls, recent, in Seriland, 12-21
Symbolism of Seri, 164*-179*
Synonymy of the Serian stock, 128-130*
T
Trophy talismans, Seri, 259*-261*
Tarahumara, marriage customs of, 286*
, swiftness of, 125
Tech, development of Seri, 10, 115, 198*-200*, 205*-206*, 215*, 265*-269*
, primitive, stages of, 249*-253*
Technological stage, definition of, 251*-252*, 253*
Teeth, Seri use of, 152*-154*
Temp of Sonoran province, 23-24
Tenochio, D.A., Seri vocabulary collected by, 102, 296*, 299*
Tepoka tribe, classification of, 67, 77, 83, 87, 99, 104, 107-108
, synonymy of, 129*
Ternaux-Compans, Henry, notes on Seri by, 94
Thompson, L.K., aid rendered by, 14
on Seri charm-trophies, 260*
Thriftiness, Seri, beginning of, 209*-212*
Thumb, Serian and Yuman names for, 330*-332*
Tiburon Island, extent of, 22
, features of, 42-45
, first exploration of, 61
, first circumnavigation of, 68-69
, naming of, 53
, second circumnavigation of, 89-93
Tidal waves of Seri waters, 45-47
Trench Pool, fortifications at, 41
Todd, Professor, on directive markings of animals, 167*
Languag, Serian and Yuman names for 297*, 328*-330*
Tools, Seri, 217*, 230*, 232*-254*
Tool awareness, Seri lack of, 152*-154*
Tooth, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 328*-330*
Torquemada, Juan de, on Californian fishing devices, 194*
Totemic structure of Seri, 10-11, 166*-167*, 168*-169*, 269*-274*
Pedro de Tovar, attack on Seri (?) by, 54
Tree, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 338*-340*
Trees of Seriland, 32-36
Cultural traits of Seri, 123-135*
Tribal community of Seri, 275*-277*
Tribal relationships of Seri, 67, 77-78, 83, 87, 95-96, 101, 102, 103, 104, 108, 127-134*
Triplets, Seri ideas concerning, 281*
Troncoso, Francisco, on Seri population and navigation, 82, 135*
Tuna fish harvest of Seri, 206*-208*
Turtle, Seri method of catching and eating, 186*-190*
, Seri trays of shell of, 185*-186*
, Seri use of shells of, as jacal covering, 222*
Tylor, E.B., on primitive marriage, 284*
U
Juan de Ugarte, explorations in Seriland by 67-69
Ulloa, F. de, explorations and observations by, 52-53
Upanguayma, classification of, 78, 102, 103, 104, 130*
, synonymy of, 129*-130*
Cutlery, Seri, 10, 182*-186*, 208*-209*
V
Peter Van der Aa, maps by, 56, 62
Vaugondy, Robert de, map by, 64
Plant-based food of Seri, 206*-208*
Plants of Seriland, 31-36
Velasco, ——, on Andrade-Espence expedition, 88-91
, on attack on Seri in 1844, 88
, on Cimarrones-Migueletes war, 83
, on Seri character, physique, food, etc., 92
, on Seri population, 92, 135*
, on Seri wars, 94, 116
, on Sonoran missions, 70
Miguel Venegas, map by, 65-66
on Californian fishing devices, 194*
on Iturbi expedition, 56
on Kino expedition, 57
on Salvatierra expedition, 67
on Seri conversion, 76-77
on "Straits of Anian", 55
on Ugarte expedition, 68, 69
Villa-sir, J. A. de, on Seri conversion, 76
on Seri habitat and life, 70, 77
on Seri population, 135*
on Seri tribal divisions, 77-78
Visnaga, absence of, from Seriland, 207*-208*
, occurrence of, in Sonoran province, 34
Words, Seri, classification of, 298*
, Serian and Yuman, comparative discussion of, 297*-344*
Vocabularies, Seri, 95-96, 97-99, 296*, 299*
Von Bayer, H., photograph of Serf archery posture by, 108, 200*-202*
W
Waikuri language, classifications of, 300*, 343*-344*
Wammus, Seri, characters of, 225*
, Seri, origin of, 232*
Combat, Seri, character of, 259*-265*
, Seri, weapons used in, 254*-259*
War chaos, Seri, 262*-263*, 265*
Water, importance of, in Seri diet, 180*-182*
of Seriland, 28-30, 181*
, Serian and Yuman names for, 338*-340*
Waterfowl of Seriland, 38
, Seri methods of catching and eating, 190*-191*
Water-smart of Seri, 158*-159*
Weapons Seri, 254*-256*
Westermarck, E., on primitive marriage, 285*
Whale, place in Seri dietary of, 192*-193*
White, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 336*-337*
Wing, Serian and Yuman names for, 332*-333*
Winship, G.P., on Coronado expedition, 53-55
Wolf, Serian, Yuman, and Piman names for, 342*-343*
Woman, Serian and Yuman names for, 321*-324*
Women, prominence of, in Seri funeral rites, 287*-292*
, prominence of, in Seri socialry, 269*-274*
Wood, Serian and Yuman names for, 297*, 338*-340*
Y
Yellow, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 335*-336*
Arrow herb, supposititious use of, by Seri, as arrow poison, 258*-259*
Youth, Serian and Yuman words meaning, 336*-337*
Human languages, comparison of Serian with, 296*-344*
Yurok tribe, marriage customs of, 285*
Z
Zoic character of Seri socialry, 293*, 295*
Zoo culture, Seri incapacity for, 203*-204*
Zoom mimic stage of primitive technic, definition of 249*-250*, 252*
Zoosmatic character of Seri face-painting, 169*
Zuñi, marriage customs of, 286*

Footnotes

1 The more noteworthy details of the organization and work of the two expeditions are set forth in the administrative reports of the Bureau for the fiscal years 1894-95 and 1895-96. Certain members of this party are shown in the accompanying half-tone, forming plate II: Señor Encinas seated at the end of the table; his son, Don Manuel (bareheaded), and Don Ygnacio Lozania at his right; a grandson behind him, and Señor Alvemar-Leon seated at his left, with Mashém kneeling over the table in the foreground.

1 The important details of how the two expeditions were organized and what they accomplished are outlined in the administrative reports from the Bureau for the fiscal years 1894-95 and 1895-96. Some members of this group are shown in the accompanying half-tone, forming plate II: Señor Encinas sitting at the end of the table; his son, Don Manuel (bareheaded), and Don Ygnacio Lozania on his right; a grandson behind him, and Señor Alvemar-Leon sitting on his left, with Mashém kneeling over the table in the foreground.

2 The larger map was drawn early in 1896, and a preliminary edition in the form of a photolithograph of the drawing was published in the National Geographic Magazine, vol. VII, 1896. It is proper—and historically desirable—to explain that while a considerable part of the copy for this paper was prepared at about the same time, circumstances prevented the completion of the manuscript and the final rectification of the nomenclature and bibliographic references until September 1, 1900.

2 The larger map was created early in 1896, and a preliminary version as a photolithograph of the drawing was published in the National Geographic Magazine, vol. VII, 1896. It’s important—and historically significant—to note that while a significant amount of the content for this paper was prepared around the same time, circumstances delayed the completion of the manuscript and the final adjustments to the naming and references until September 1, 1900.

3 Johnson peak. It is proper to say that this name was applied by the author (and leader of the expedition) after the drawing was completed and submitted by Mr Johnson, as a meager tribute to his excellent work in the field and on the drawings named.

3 Johnson Peak. It's fair to say that the author (who led the expedition) named it after the drawing was finished and submitted by Mr. Johnson, as a small acknowledgment of his outstanding work in the field and on the drawings.

4 An asterisk indicates new names, an obelisk old names restored or colloquial names adopted.

4 An asterisk shows new names, while an obelisk indicates restored old names or adopted colloquial names.

5 The following monthly and annual meteorologic summaries, compiled from United States Weather Bureau records at these stations, have been kindly furnished by Prof. Willis L. Moore, Superintendent of the Bureau. The tabulated records represent the observations of twenty years at Yuma and ten years at Tucson.

5 The monthly and annual weather summaries below, gathered from United States Weather Bureau records at these locations, have been generously provided by Prof. Willis L. Moore, the Superintendent of the Bureau. The recorded data reflects observations from twenty years in Yuma and ten years in Tucson.

Jan. Feb. Mar. Apr. May June July Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec. Year
Absolute
maximum
temperature,
Fahr.:
Yuma 81 91 100 105 112 117 118 115 113 108 92 83 118
Tucson 84 85 95 101 106 111 110 109 106 97 89 82 111
Absolute
minimum
temperature,
Fahr.:
Yuma 22 25 31 40 44 52 61 60 50 41 31 25 22
Tucson 14 20 24 32 38 39 64 60 46 31 23 11 11
Mean
maximum
temperature,
Fahr.:
Yuma 65.1 70.7 78.5 85.4 93.2 101.2 106.7 104.9 99.6 87.2 75.0 67.4 86.6
Tucson 62.9 67.0 74.5 81.4 91.4 100.2 99.0 94.8 92.2 82.8 71.5 63.7 81.8
Mean
minimum
temperature,
Fahr.:
Yuma 42.0 46.1 50.8 55.1 61.4 68.3 77.2 77.6 70.5 58.5 48.8 44.7 58.4
Tucson 34.9 41.5 44.0 48.1 55.3 63.8 75.0 73.6 67.3 52.1 42.5 35.1 52.8
Mean
temperature,
Fahr.:
Yuma 54.1 58.8 64.5 69.8 77.2 84.9 91.5 90.7 84.4 73.0 61.9 56.0 72.2
Tucson 49.4 53.2 59.5 65.6 74.0 82.3 87.2 83.5 77.7 68.5 57.0 52.0 67.4
Mean
precipitation
(inches and
hundredths):
Yuma 0.42 0.51 0.26 0.07 0.04 T. 0.14 0.35 0.15 0.28 0.29 0.46 3.04
Tucson 0.75 0.98 0.90 0.17 0.16 0.19 2.86 3.08 1.16 0.33 0.37 0.95 12.26
Prevailing
Winds:
Yuma N. N. W. W. W. SW. S. S. NE. NE. N. N. N.
Tucson S. S. S. W. S. SW. SE. SE. S. S. S. SE. S.
Average
cloudiness
(scale 0-10):
Yuma 2.4 2.4 2.4 1.6 1.3 0.8 1.8 2.3 1.1 1.3 1.7 2.5 1.8
Tucson 3.0 3.2 3.2 1.8 1.6 1.5 4.5 4.4 1.9 1.6 1.6 2.9 2.6

6 Defined and described in Sheetflood Erosion, Bull. Geol. Soc. Am., vol. VII, 1897, p. 87.

6 Defined and described in Sheetflood Erosion, Bull. Geol. Soc. Am., vol. VII, 1897, p. 87.

7 Tinaja Trinchera was entirely dry and without trace of carrizal in December, 1894.

7 Tinaja Trinchera was completely dry and showed no signs of reeds in December 1894.

8 The physiographic features of the Sonoran province in general are treated in greater detail in a paper on Sheetflood Erosion, Bull. Geol. Soc. Am., vol. VIII, 1897, pp. 87-112, and in a paper on Papagueria, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. IX, 1898, pp. 345-371; while certain local features are described in a paper on Seriland, prepared jointly with Willard D. Johnson, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. VII, 1896, pp. 125-133. The aggregate available fresh water of Seriland is estimated on p. 181*.

8 The physical characteristics of the Sonoran province are discussed in more detail in a paper on Sheetflood Erosion, Bull. Geol. Soc. Am., vol. VIII, 1897, pp. 87-112, and in a paper on Papagueria, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. IX, 1898, pp. 345-371; while specific local features are covered in a paper on Seriland, created together with Willard D. Johnson, Nat. Geog. Mag., vol. VII, 1896, pp. 125-133. The total available fresh water of Seriland is estimated on p. 181*.

9 Noted by Willard D. Johnson.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Noted by Willard D. Johnson.

10 The vital characteristics of the region have been described in some detail in The Beginning of Agriculture, American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1805, pp. 350-375; The Beginning of Zooculture, American Anthropologist, vol. X, 1897, pp. 215-230; and Expedition to Seriland, Science, vol. III, 1898, pp. 493-505.

10 The key features of the region have been outlined in detail in The Beginning of Agriculture, American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1805, pp. 350-375; The Beginning of Zooculture, American Anthropologist, vol. X, 1897, pp. 215-230; and Expedition to Seriland, Science, vol. III, 1898, pp. 493-505.

11 The expedition of 1895, during which Seriland was surveyed, was not provided with apparatus for accurate vertical measurement, and hence altitudes were only approximately determined. The determinations by Mr Johnson, who executed the topographic surveys, indicated that even the lowest part of the valley is somewhat above sea-level; but other facts indicate that it actually lies below the level of the waters of the gulf, and forms a miniature homologue of Colorado desert (in southern California): in the first place the central playa, which is undoubtedly flooded occasionally if not semiannually, does not embouch into, and has no channels extending toward, the sea; in the second place it is highly saline; again, the alluvial fans of Rio Bacuache and (especially) of Rio Sonora are so placed as to intercept and dam the trough occupied by Laguna la Cruz in its southern portion, and Playa Noriega in its northern portion; concordantly, the detail configuration of the coast indicates marine transgression, apparently due to secular subsidence of the land—though the abundant marine shells of recent species toward the valley-bottom attest recent displacement of the sea. On the whole, the facts seem to indicate that, during recent geologic times, the lower portion of this valley was a shallow gulf extending northward (and probably also southward) from the eastern limit of Bahia Kino; that the importation and deposition of sediment, chiefly by Rio Sonora, outran the secular subsidence of the land so far as to displace the waters of the gulf in its central portion and to separate the northern arm from the sea; and that the waters of this northern arm were subsequently evaporated, disappearing finally in the central playa in which local inflow and evaporation are balanced by the usual mechanism of interior basins.

11 The expedition in 1895, during which Seriland was surveyed, didn’t have the tools for precise vertical measurement, so altitudes were only roughly estimated. The measurements by Mr. Johnson, who carried out the topographic surveys, suggested that even the lowest part of the valley is somewhat above sea level; however, other evidence indicates that it is actually below the water level of the gulf and resembles a smaller version of the Colorado Desert (in Southern California). First, the central playa, which is definitely flooded sometimes, if not semi-annually, does not drain into the sea and has no channels directing water towards it. Second, it is very saline. Additionally, the alluvial fans of Rio Bacuache and, especially, Rio Sonora are positioned in a way that blocks and traps the trough where Laguna la Cruz is located in the south and Playa Noriega in the north. Correspondingly, the detailed shape of the coastline suggests marine flooding, likely due to the gradual sinking of the land—though the presence of numerous recent marine shells at the valley bottom indicates recent movement of the sea. Overall, the evidence suggests that, in more recent geologic times, the lower part of this valley was a shallow gulf extending northward (and probably southward as well) from the eastern edge of Bahia Kino; that the accumulation and deposition of sediment, mainly from Rio Sonora, outpaced the gradual sinking of the land enough to push the waters of the gulf away from its central part and to separate the northern arm from the sea; and that the waters of this northern arm eventually evaporated, ultimately disappearing into the central playa where local inflow and evaporation are balanced by the usual processes of interior basins.

12 Both the routes were traversed by the expedition of 1895, the former from the headwaters of Rio Bacuache to the upper portion of its alluvial fan, and then from the abandoned Rancho Libertad on the lower portion of the fan across Desierto Encinas by way of Barranca Salina. In the northern crossing a light vehicle (the first to traverse this portion of the desert), drawn by four horses and aided by several horsemen, was taken from Rancho Libertad across the northern portion of Playa Noriega and thence up Arroyo Mitchell to a point midway between Barranca Salina and Johnson peak, and was brought back over the same route. The Encinas trail from Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica was traversed four times each way by the same outfit, and once each way by the running gear of a heavy wagon carrying the rude craft (about 1,000 pounds in weight) in which the Seri waters were navigated, this vehicle being drawn by 8 to 12 horses, frequently changed. Typical aspects of both routes are shown in plate III, the upper figure representing the Encinas trail and the lower a distant view of Sierra Seri, taken from Playa Noriega, in the depths of Desierto Encinas.

12 Both routes were traveled by the 1895 expedition, starting from the headwaters of the Rio Bacuache to the upper part of its alluvial fan, and then from the abandoned Rancho Libertad on the lower part of the fan across Desierto Encinas via Barranca Salina. In the northern crossing, a light vehicle (the first to cross this part of the desert), pulled by four horses and assisted by several horsemen, was taken from Rancho Libertad across the northern part of Playa Noriega and then up Arroyo Mitchell to a point halfway between Barranca Salina and Johnson Peak, returning over the same route. The Encinas trail from Rancho San Francisco de Costa Rica was crossed four times in each direction by the same team, and once each way by the running gear of a heavy wagon carrying the crude craft (about 1,000 pounds) used to navigate the Seri waters, this vehicle being pulled by 8 to 12 horses, which were often changed out. Typical aspects of both routes are shown in plate III, with the upper figure representing the Encinas trail and the lower a distant view of Sierra Seri, taken from Playa Noriega, deep in Desierto Encinas.

13 The northern portion, as seen from the east, is shown in plate III; the southern portion, as seen from the west, appears in the upper part of plate IV, while the southwesternmost point is shown in the lower part of the same plate.

13 The northern section, viewed from the east, is displayed in plate III; the southern section, seen from the west, is shown in the upper part of plate IV, while the southwesternmost point is depicted in the lower part of the same plate.

14 Originally the name Islas Sal-si-puedes (Get-out-if-canst) was applied to the various islands of this gateway of the gulf, including San Lorenzo, San Esteban, and San Agustin (now Tiburon), together with the smaller islets, as shown in the map of Padre Fernando Consag (in Noticia de la California y de su Conquista, etc., por el Padre Miguel Venegas, 1757, tomo III, p. 194); and Padre Consag’s account of the currents encountered in 1746 explains the designation: “The great sea which runs here even in fair weather would not allow us to stay, and it was with great difficulty we took in a little water. We now attempted to weather the Cape of San Gabriel de Sal-si-puedes, so greatly dreaded by seamen on account of those islands, several contiguous points of land and many ledges of sunken rocks extending a great way from the land. Here the sea is so agitated by the current that a gale or a calm makes but little difference” (English translation of Venegas’ Noticia, titled A Natural and Civil History of California, 1759, vol. II, pp. 312-313). Hittell speaks of “the group of islands known as Salsipuedes, the largest of which is now called Tiburon” (History of California, 1898, vol. I, p. 225). Dewey restricted the name to a single small island near the Baja California coast. Further references to the islands and their designations are noted postea, p. 65.

14 Originally, the name Islas Sal-si-puedes (Get-out-if-you-can) referred to the various islands in this gateway to the gulf, including San Lorenzo, San Esteban, and San Agustin (now Tiburon), along with the smaller islets, as shown on the map by Padre Fernando Consag (in Noticia de la California y de su Conquista, etc., by Padre Miguel Venegas, 1757, vol. III, p. 194); and Padre Consag’s account of the currents experienced in 1746 explains the name: “The strong sea here, even in good weather, would not let us stay, and we struggled just to take in a little water. We then tried to round the Cape of San Gabriel de Sal-si-puedes, which is greatly feared by sailors due to those islands, several close points of land, and many submerged rocks stretching far from the shore. The sea here is so disturbed by the current that a storm or calm makes little difference” (English translation of Venegas’ Noticia, titled A Natural and Civil History of California, 1759, vol. II, pp. 312-313). Hittell mentions “the group of islands known as Salsipuedes, the largest of which is now called Tiburon” (History of California, 1898, vol. I, p. 225). Dewey limited the name to a single small island near the Baja California coast. Further details about the islands and their names are mentioned later, p. 65.

15 Unquestionably the clearest view of El Infiernillo ever enjoyed by Caucasian eyes was that of Messrs Johnson and Mitchell from the culminating point of Sierra Seri (Johnson peak), which they occupied for about twenty-three hours on December 7 and 8, 1895. Mr Johnson’s notes on the appearance of the strait are as follows: “On the occasion of the ascent of Sierra Seri, which rises from the coast, shutting off the view of Isla Tiburon from the desert on the east, I received a striking impression of the elaborate and beautifully symmetrical plan of the long swirling currents of El Infiernillo. The climb had been made from the east direct to the summit peak, so that the first sight of both island and gulf was not only from close at hand, but from an elevation of about a mile. The crest of the ridge was reached at the instant of sunset, and the spectacle of the innumerable current-markings was brief. Our position was nearly opposite the northern end of the strait; and its elevation was so great that the opposite mainland and island shorelines were seen in map effect rather than in perspective. The entire strait, to its northern end at Punta Perla, was in the shadow of the island; and the current design was revealed only in the shadow. At the shadow-margin extending from the northern tip of the island the lines were sharply cut off; and beyond, along the westward bend of waters forming Bahia Tepopa and opening into the gulf in full sunlight, there was no suggestion of them. Within the shadow the effect was that of a film of oil on a water-surface which had been stirred and allowed to come to rest—though the regularity of the lines was as though the stirring had been orderly. Not the slightest motion was perceptible from the peak during the minute or two that the spectacle lasted before the sun disappeared and twilight fell, though the suggestion from configuration alone was that of violent swirling. The general movement was evidently southward toward Boca Infierno, and the swirls were apparently the result of frictional resistance along both shores; the system of curving lines as a whole was very much that which would be presented by a broad feather thrust into a bottle. There were central lines in great number, somewhat sinuous though never crossing, diverging one by one toward the shores on either hand, where they curved backward with complex interferences in large reversing arcs and many minute circlings. The straightening out of the curves in perspective was quite perceptible toward Boca Infierno, and beyond it was pronounced. The air appeared to be still, so that the current pattern was not at all obscured by waves; and the spectacle of the broad strait, appearing almost beneath me, incised with a crowded design of sweeping fine lines, the delicate clearness of which recalled a steel engraving, was peculiarly impressive. That we had been fortunate in the moment of reaching the summit was apparent next day. The spectacle was, indeed, repeated at sunrise and for a short period thereafter, though the general design was markedly different, and less intricacy of pattern was discernible, while the general effect was comparatively vague; perhaps the shadow of Sierra Seri was too heavy, or, more probably (as was my impression at the time), our position was not favorable for that direction of illumination. In full light during the day up to the hour of our departure in late afternoon, no hint or vestige of the current design remained. It was evident that the lines were brought out with especial clearness by the favorable illumination and comparative stillness of air; and it was particularly evident that the lines marked movements in the water, even if there were corresponding air-currents, since they harmonized perfectly with the configuration of the shores and with the trend of spits and bars and offshore markings seen through the shallow waters, especially toward the northern end of the strait. The accord between shore curves and the current lines seen in the evening indicated a southward motion much more vigorous than the reverse movement witnessed next morning; for the marked variation in the design noted in the morning was of a character strongly suggesting a reversed movement of the water, while the faintness of the markings then may perhaps have been due to comparative feebleness of current rather than to unfavorable lighting. Certainly the close agreement between the elaborate system of markings, so clearly revealed in the evening, and the prevailing curves of the shores would seem to indicate unmistakably that, whatever the direction and strength of flow, the markings were a product of current motion.”

15 Without a doubt, the clearest view of El Infiernillo ever seen by Caucasians was experienced by Johnson and Mitchell from the peak of Sierra Seri (Johnson Peak), where they stayed for about twenty-three hours on December 7 and 8, 1895. Mr. Johnson’s notes on how the strait looked are as follows: “During my climb up Sierra Seri, which rises from the coast and blocks the view of Isla Tiburon from the eastern desert, I was struck by the intricate and beautifully balanced pattern of the long, swirling currents of El Infiernillo. The ascent was made directly from the east to the summit, so my first sight of both the island and the gulf was not only close but at an elevation of about a mile. We reached the ridge just as the sun was setting, making the display of countless current markings brief. Our position was nearly opposite the northern end of the strait, and our height was so great that the shorelines of the opposite mainland and island appeared as if they were drawn on a map rather than viewed in perspective. The entire strait, extending to its northern point at Punta Perla, was in the shadow of the island, and the current pattern was only revealed in that shadow. At the edge of the shadow, extending from the island's northern tip, the lines were sharply defined; beyond that, along the westward curve of waters leading to Bahia Tepopa and into the gulf in bright sunlight, there was no sign of them. In the shadow, the effect resembled a film of oil on a stirred water surface that had settled—though the regularity of the lines suggested that the stirring was orderly. Not a hint of motion was noticeable from the peak during the minute or two that the display lasted before the sun disappeared and twilight set in, though the configuration alone suggested violent swirling. The general movement was clearly southward toward Boca Infierno, and the swirls seemed to result from the friction along both shores; the overall system of curved lines resembled a broad feather placed in a bottle. There were many central lines, somewhat winding but never crossing, diverging one by one toward the shores on either side, where they curved back with complex interferences in large reversing arcs and numerous small circles. The straightening of the curves in perspective was quite noticeable moving toward Boca Infierno, and beyond it was even more distinct. The air felt still, so the current pattern was not obscured by waves; the view of the broad strait, appearing almost below me, was filled with a crowded design of sweeping fine lines, the delicate clarity of which reminded me of a steel engraving—it was particularly striking. It was clear that we were fortunate to reach the summit at that moment. The view was indeed repeated at sunrise and for a short time after, though the overall design was notably different and less intricate, while the general effect was relatively vague; perhaps the shadow of Sierra Seri was too strong, or, as I felt at the time, our position wasn’t ideal for that direction of light. In full daylight through our late afternoon departure, there was no sign or trace of the current design left. It was obvious that the lines were brought out with particular clarity by the favorable light and calm air; and it was particularly clear that the lines indicated movements in the water, even if there were corresponding air currents, since they matched perfectly with the shapes of the shores and with the trends of spits, bars, and offshore markings visible through the shallow water, especially toward the northern end of the strait. The match between the curves of the shores and the current lines seen in the evening indicated a southward motion that was much stronger than the reverse movement seen the next morning; the significant change in the design we noticed in the morning strongly suggested a reverse movement of the water, while the faintness of the markings then may have been due to the weaker current rather than poor lighting. Certainly, the close correlation between the detailed system of markings, so clearly visible in the evening, and the prevailing curves of the shores would undoubtedly indicate that, regardless of the direction and strength of flow, the markings were a product of current motion.”

16 Publication No. 56, U. S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, p. 142.

16 Publication No. 56, U.S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, p. 142.

17 Op. cit., p. 143.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See cited work, p. 143.

18 A stiller and navigable condition of the sea is shown in the view of Punta Ygnacio, plate IV.

18 A calmer and more navigable state of the sea is depicted in the view of Punta Ygnacio, plate IV.

19 Theodore H. Hittell, History of California, 1898, vol. I, pp. 43-44.

19 Theodore H. Hittell, History of California, 1898, vol. I, pp. 43-44.

20 Contributions to the History of the Southwestern Portion of the United States (Hemenway Southwestern Archæological Expedition), Papers of the Archæological Institute of America, American series, V, 1890, p. 44.

20 Contributions to the History of the Southwestern Portion of the United States (Hemenway Southwestern Archaeological Expedition), Papers of the Archaeological Institute of America, American series, V, 1890, p. 44.

21 Relation of Alvar Nuñez Cabeça de Vaca, translated from the Spanish by Buckingham Smith; New York, 1871, p. 172.

21 Account of Alvar Nuñez Cabeça de Vaca, translated from Spanish by Buckingham Smith; New York, 1871, p. 172.

22 Ibid, p. 178.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 178.

23 Cf. Bandelier, Magazine of Western History, IV, 1886, p. 660.

23 Cf. Bandelier, Magazine of Western History, IV, 1886, p. 660.

24 Ibid, pp. 661-663; Papers of the Archæological Institute of America, American series, V, p. 118.

24 Ibid, pp. 661-663; Papers of the Archaeological Institute of America, American series, V, p. 118.

25 The Voyages of the English Nation to America, collected by Richard Hakluyt and edited by Edmund Goldsmid, 1890, vol. III, p. 317.

25 The Voyages of the English Nation to America, collected by Richard Hakluyt and edited by Edmund Goldsmid, 1890, vol. III, p. 317.

26 The Coronado Expedition, 1540-1542, Fourteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1896, p. 382.

26 The Coronado Expedition, 1540-1542, Fourteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1896, p. 382.

27 As a harbor or anchorage marked “del Tiburon” on the map of “Domingo del Castillo, Piloto”, drawn in 1541, and reproduced in Historia de Nueva-España, escrita por su esclarecido Conquistador Hernán Cortés, aumentada con otras documentos, y notas, por el ilustrissimo Señor Don Francisco Antonio Lorenzana, Arzobispo de Mexico; Mexico, 1770, p. 328.

27 As a harbor or anchorage labeled “del Tiburon” on the map of “Domingo del Castillo, Piloto,” created in 1541 and republished in Historia de Nueva-España, written by the renowned Conquistador Hernán Cortés, expanded with additional documents and notes by the illustrious Señor Don Francisco Antonio Lorenzana, Archbishop of Mexico; Mexico, 1770, p. 328.

28 The Voyages of the English Nation to America, vol. IV, p. 6.

28 The Voyages of the English Nation to America, vol. IV, p. 6.

29 Winship, op. cit., p. 484.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Winship, same source, p. 484.

30 Coronado’s March to Quivira, in J. V. Brower, Harahey (Memoirs of Explorations in the Basin of the Mississippi, vol. II), 1899, p. 36.

30 Coronado’s Journey to Quivira, in J. V. Brower, Harahey (Memoirs of Explorations in the Basin of the Mississippi, vol. II), 1899, p. 36.

31 Cf. The History of Oregon, California, and the other Territories on the Northwest Coast of North America, by Robert Greenhow, 1845, p. 97; History of California, by Theodore H. Hittell, 1898, vol. I, p. 149.

31 Cf. The History of Oregon, California, and the other Territories on the Northwest Coast of North America, by Robert Greenhow, 1845, p. 97; History of California, by Theodore H. Hittell, 1898, vol. I, p. 149.

32 Winship, op. cit., p. 502.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Winship, cited work, p. 502.

33 Ibid., p. 538.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 538.

34 It should he noted that Mr. F. W. Hodge, whose large acquaintance with the Southwest and its literature gives his opinion great weight, is inclined to class the Indians in question as Opata.

34 It should be noted that Mr. F. W. Hodge, whose extensive knowledge of the Southwest and its literature gives his opinion significant credibility, tends to categorize the Indians in question as Opata.

35 Op. cit., pp. 29-73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 29-73.

36 Sonora Histórico y Descriptivo, por F. T. Dávila, 1894, p. 8.

36 Sonora Historical and Descriptive, by F. T. Dávila, 1894, p. 8.

37 A Natural and Civil History of California; translated from the original Spanish of Miguel Venegas; London, 1759, vol. I, preface.

37 A Natural and Civil History of California; translated from the original Spanish of Miguel Venegas; London, 1759, vol. I, preface.

38 Historia de los Trivmphos de Nvestra Santa Fee entre Gentes las mas Barbaras y Fieras del Nueuo Orbe; Madrid, 1645, p. 358. The “Heris” are identified as Seri by Bandelier (Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the Southwestern United States, in Papers Arch. Inst. Am., American series, III, 1890, p. 74).

38 History of the Triumphs of Our Holy Faith Among the Most Barbaric and Fierce Peoples of the New World; Madrid, 1645, p. 358. The "Heris" are identified as Seri by Bandelier (Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the Southwestern United States, in Papers Arch. Inst. Am., American series, III, 1890, p. 74).

39 Op. cit., p. 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Op. cit., p. 11.

40 Venegas, op. cit., vol. I, p. 182.

40 Venegas, op. cit., vol. I, p. 182.

41 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. I, p. 192.

41 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. I, p. 192.

42 Venegas, Noticia de la California, vol. I; Madrid, 1757, p. 219.

42 Venegas, News from California, vol. I; Madrid, 1757, p. 219.

43 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. XV (History of the North Mexican States, vol. I, 1531-1800), 1884, p. 252.

43 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. XV (History of the North Mexican States, vol. I, 1531-1800), 1884, p. 252.

44 Apostolicos Afanes de la Compañia de Jesus, escritos por un Padre de la misma Sagrada Religion de su Provincia de Mexico; Barcelona, 1754, p. 246 et seq.

44 Apostolic Efforts of the Company of Jesus, written by a Father of the same Holy Religion from his Province of Mexico; Barcelona, 1754, p. 246 et seq.

45 Translated somewhat freely from Resumen de Noticias, in Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, cuarta série, tomo I, 1856, pp. 235-236.

45 Translated somewhat freely from Resumen de Noticias, in Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, fourth series, volume I, 1856, pp. 235-236.

46 Tabula California, anno 1702 (Via terrestris in Californiam comperta et detecta per R. Patrem Eusebium Fran. Chino è S. I. Germanum. Adnotatis novis Missionibus ejusdem Soctis ab anno 1698 ad annum 1701), in Stocklein, Der Neue Welt-Bott, Augsburg und Grätz, 1726.

46 California Map, year 1702 (Land route to California discovered and explored by R. Father Eusebius Fran. Chino of the Society of Jesus. With new notes on the missions of the same Society from the year 1698 to 1701), in Stocklein, The New World Report, Augsburg and Graz, 1726.

47 Elaborately mapped and established (on paper) as the “Puerto y Villa de la Libertad” in 1861 (Boletin de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografia y Estadistica, 1863, X, p. 263 et seq.), and actually maintained from 1875 to 1884 as the port of Libertad (not the abandoned Rancho Libertad on the border of Seriland), or Serna, according to Dávila (Sonora Histórico y Descriptivo, pp. 140, 309).

47 Detailed and formally recognized (on paper) as the “Puerto y Villa de la Libertad” in 1861 (Boletin de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografia y Estadistica, 1863, X, p. 263 et seq.), and actually operated from 1875 to 1884 as the port of Libertad (not the deserted Rancho Libertad on the border of Seriland), or Serna, according to Dávila (Sonora Histórico y Descriptivo, pp. 140, 309).

48 Identified by Alexandre de Humboldt in his Carte Générale du Royaume de la Nouvelle Espagne, of 1804 (in Atlas Géographique et Physique, Paris, 1811). So late as 1840 the old name was sometimes retained, e. g., on Robert Greenhow’s map accompanying his History of California and Oregon.

48 Identified by Alexandre de Humboldt in his General Map of the Kingdom of New Spain, from 1804 (in Geographic and Physical Atlas, Paris, 1811). As late as 1840, the old name was sometimes still used, for example, on Robert Greenhow’s map that accompanied his History of California and Oregon.

49 In one of the last letters from his pen, dated November 25, 1899, the late Dr Elliott Cones wrote, “I find you trailing Kino and Mange in 1694 precisely as I had them, and I make no doubt of the substantial accuracy of your typewritten MS. I accept your position that the large island they sighted and named San Agustin was not Tiburon, but Angel de la Guarda Isl.”

49 In one of the last letters he wrote, dated November 25, 1899, the late Dr. Elliott Cones said, “I see you following Kino and Mange in 1694 exactly as I had them, and I have no doubt about the accuracy of your typewritten manuscript. I agree with you that the large island they spotted and named San Agustin was not Tiburon, but Angel de la Guarda Island.”

50 A mission founded in 1699 by Padre Melchor Bartiromo (Historia de la Compañia de Jesus en Nueva España, que esta escribiendo el P. Francisco Javier Alegre, 1842, tomo III, p. 117), of which the location has long been lost.

50 A mission established in 1699 by Father Melchor Bartiromo (Historia de la Compañia de Jesus en Nueva España, que esta escribiendo el P. Francisco Javier Alegre, 1842, tomo III, p. 117), the exact location of which has been lost for a long time.

51 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., tomo I, p. 321.

51 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., vol. I, p. 321.

52 Op. cit., p. 275 (the year is misprinted 1800 on this page and in the index).

52 Op. cit., p. 275 (the year is incorrectly printed as 1800 on this page and in the index).

53 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., tomo I, pp. 321-322.

53 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 321-322.

54 Op. cit., tomo III, pp. 117-119.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Op. cit., vol. III, pp. 117-119.

55 Novissima et Accuratissima Septentrionalis ac Meridionalis Americæ, Amsterdam. (In American Maps, 1579-1796, Library U. S. Geological Survey, 135.)

55 Latest and Most Accurate Northern and Southern America, Amsterdam. (In American Maps, 1579-1796, Library U.S. Geological Survey, 135.)

56 Mar del Zvr, Hispanis, Mare Pacificum. (Ibid., 129.)

56 Mar del Zvr, Spanish, Pacific Ocean. (Ibid., 129.)

57 ’T Noorder Deel van Amerika, Leyden. (Ibid., 178.)

57 In the Northern Part of America, Leyden. (Ibid., 178.)

58 Nouvelle Carte de l’Amerique, Leyden. (Ibid., 156.)

58 New Map of America, Leyden. (Ibid., 156.)

59 L’Amerique Septentrionale Suivant les Nouvelles Observations, etc., Leyden. (Ibid., 181.) This island is not named, but is undoubtedly the Santa Inez of several other maps—the Angel de la Guarda of the present.

59 L’Amerique Septentrionale Suivant les Nouvelles Observations, etc., Leyden. (Ibid., 181.) This island isn’t named, but it’s definitely the Santa Inez from several other maps—the Angel de la Guarda of today.

60 North America, according to ye Newest and most Exact Observations, etc., London. (Ibid., 93.)

60 North America, based on the latest and most accurate observations, etc., London. (Ibid., 93.)

61 Doubtless the mountain “La Giganta”, named by Admiral Otondo toward the end of the seventeenth century (Documentas para la Historia de Mexico, cuarta série, 1857, tomo V, p. 122), and noted by Hardy in 1820 (Travels in Interior of Mexico in 1825, 1826, 1827, and 1828, London, 1829, p. 243).

61 Certainly, the mountain "La Giganta," named by Admiral Otondo near the end of the seventeenth century (Documentas para la Historia de Mexico, cuarta série, 1857, tomo V, p. 122), was also mentioned by Hardy in 1820 (Travels in Interior of Mexico in 1825, 1826, 1827, and 1828, London, 1829, p. 243).

62 A map of North America, with the European Settlements and whatever else is Remarkable in ye West Indies, from the latest and best Observations. (American maps, loc. cit., 110.)

62 A map of North America, showing the European Settlements and other notable features in the West Indies, based on the latest and most reliable observations. (American maps, loc. cit., 110.)

63 Amerique Septentrionale Divisée en Ses Principales Parties. (Ibid., 109.)

63 North America Divided into Its Main Parts. (Ibid., 109.)

64 Carte du Mexique et de la Floride, des Terres Angloises et des Isles Antilles, etc. (Ibid., 136.)

64 Map of Mexico and Florida, the English Territories, and the Caribbean Islands, etc. (Ibid., 136.)

65 L’Amerique Septentrionale ... par G. de l’Isle: Amsterdam, Chez Pierre Mortier. (Ibid., 172.) The island is, of course, Santa Inez, i. e., Angel de la Guarda.

65 North America ... by G. de l’Isle: Amsterdam, by Pierre Mortier. (Ibid., 172.) The island is, of course, Santa Inez, meaning Angel de la Guarda.

66 Map in Stocklein, op. cit.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Map in Stocklein, referenced.

67 Carte d’Amerique, etc. (American maps, loc. cit., 20.)

67 American maps, etc. (American maps, loc. cit., 20.)

68 Amérique Septentrionale ... par le Sr. d’Anville, Paris. (Ibid., 50 and 51.)

68 North America ... by Sr. d’Anville, Paris. (Ibid., 50 and 51.)

69 Amérique Septentrionale ... par le Sr. Robert de Vaugondy, Paris. (Ibid., 27.)

69 North America ... by Mr. Robert de Vaugondy, Paris. (Ibid., 27.)

70 L’Amerique Septentrionale, etc., Amsterdam. (Ibid., 160.)

70 North America, etc., Amsterdam. (Ibid., 160.)

71 A new map of North America, with the West India Islands.... Laid down according to the Latest Surveys, and Corrected from the Original Materials of Goverr Pownall, London. (Ibid., 22.)

71 A new map of North America, including the West India Islands.... Created based on the latest surveys and corrected using the original materials of Governor Pownall, London. (Ibid., 22.)

72 It seems probable that various early cartographers were misled by the traditional lore of “salineros”, or salt-making Indians, in combination with the unusual designation of these islands. In his text Padre Consag rendered the term “Sal-si-puedes”, and strongly emphasized the violent tidal currents and consequent dangers to vessels which suggested the vigorously idiomatic designation to early navigators (Venegas. Noticia de la California, III, p. 145); in the Venegas map (ibid., tomo I, p. 1) the name is used without the qualifying comma, and in the text it is hyphenated “Sal-si-puedes”, the author observing concerning the local currents, “These currents run with astonishing rapidity, and their noise is equal to that of a large rapid river among rocks; nor do they run only in one direction, but set in many intersected gyrations” (A Natural and Civil History of California, p. 63). And the “Sacerdote Religioso”, whose letters place him among the authorities on Lower California, wrote: “In the narrows of the gulf are a multitude of islets, for the passage being so dangerous to vessels they are called Sal si puedes” (Noticias de la Provincia de Californias, Valencia, 1794, p. 11); while Hardy, who navigated this portion of the gulf early in the present century (Travels in the Interior of Mexico, London, 1829, p. 279), mentioned a passage “between the islands called ‘Sal si Puedes’ (get back if you can)”. So, too, Duflot de Mofras wrote of “les îles de Sal si puedes (Sors si tu peux)” in his Explorations du Territoire de l’Orégon, Paris, 1814, p. 219. Bancroft properly reduced the obscure connotive phrase to the single denotive term “Salsipuedes,” and noted the signification as “Get out if thou canst” (North Mexican States, vol. I, p. 444). In 1873-1875 Dewey restricted the name to a single island and a channel, and emphasized the currents in the latter “against which sailing vessels found it almost impossible to make any headway” (The West Coast of Mexico, Publication 56, U. S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, p. 113), and rendered the name “Sal-si-puedes” in the text, “Sal si puedes” on the charts. Hittell’s reference to “the group of islands then known as Salsipuedes, the largest of which is now called Tiburon” (History of California, vol. I, p. 225), doubtless expresses the early use of the term precisely, save that the present Tiburon was long treated as a part of the mainland, while its names were applied to Isla Tassne or some other islet. Vide postea, p. 45.

72 It seems likely that various early mapmakers were confused by the traditional stories about “salineros,” or salt-making Indians, along with the unusual name of these islands. In his text, Padre Consag translated the term “Sal-si-puedes” and strongly emphasized the dangerous tidal currents and risks to ships, which led early navigators to adopt this very idiomatic name (Venegas. Noticia de la California, III, p. 145); in the Venegas map (ibid., tomo I, p. 1) the name appears without the qualifying comma, and in the text, it is hyphenated as “Sal-si-puedes,” with the author noting about the local currents, “These currents run with astonishing speed, and their noise is equal to that of a large rapid river among rocks; nor do they run in just one direction, but move in many intersecting spirals” (A Natural and Civil History of California, p. 63). The “Sacerdote Religioso,” whose letters place him among the experts on Lower California, wrote: “In the narrows of the gulf are many islets, for the passage being so dangerous to vessels they are called Sal si puedes” (Noticias de la Provincia de Californias, Valencia, 1794, p. 11); while Hardy, who navigated this part of the gulf early in this century (Travels in the Interior of Mexico, London, 1829, p. 279), mentioned a passage “between the islands called ‘Sal si Puedes’ (get back if you can).” Likewise, Duflot de Mofras wrote about “les îles de Sal si peux (Get out if you can)” in his Explorations du Territoire de l’Orégon, Paris, 1814, p. 219. Bancroft correctly simplified the ambiguous connotative phrase to the single denotative term “Salsipuedes,” noting its meaning as “Get out if you can” (North Mexican States, vol. I, p. 444). Between 1873-1875, Dewey limited the name to a single island and a channel, highlighting the currents in the latter “against which sailing vessels found it nearly impossible to make any progress” (The West Coast of Mexico, Publication 56, U. S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, p. 113), and rendered the name as “Sal-si-puedes” in the text, “Sal si puedes” on the maps. Hittell’s reference to “the group of islands then known as Salsipuedes, the largest of which is now called Tiburon” (History of California, vol. I, p. 225), likely captures the early use of the term accurately, except that the current Tiburon was long considered part of the mainland, while its names were assigned to Isla Tassne or some other islet. Vide postea, p. 45.

73 Seno de California, etc., in Venegas, Noticia de la California, tomo III, p. 194.

73 Seno de California, etc., in Venegas, Noticia de la California, vol. III, p. 194.

74 Noticia de la California, tomo I, p. 1.

74 News from California, volume I, p. 1.

75 California, per P. Ferdinandum Consak, S. I., et alios, in Nachrichten von der amerikanischen Halbinsel Californien.... Geschrieben von einem Priester der Gesellschaft Jesu (identified as Jacob Baegert by Rau, Smithsonian Report, 1863, p. 352); Mannheim, 1773.

75 California, according to P. Ferdinand Consak, S.I., and others, in Reports from the American Peninsula of California.... Written by a priest of the Society of Jesus (identified as Jacob Baegert by Rau, Smithsonian Report, 1863, p. 352); Mannheim, 1773.

76 A New Map of the Whole Continent of America, London. (American maps, loc. cit., 4.)

76 A New Map of the Entire Continent of America, London. (American maps, loc. cit., 4.)

77 This cartography reappeared occasionally up to about the middle of the nineteenth century, as illustrated by the Greenhow map accompanying the edition of his history issued in 1845.

77 This map showed up from time to time until around the middle of the 1800s, as demonstrated by the Greenhow map that came with the edition of his history published in 1845.

78 This condition is revealed in Mühlenpfordt, Versuch einer getreuen Schilderung der Republic Mejico, etc.; Hannover, 1844.

78 This condition is detailed in Mühlenpfordt, Attempt at an Accurate Description of the Republic of Mexico, etc.; Hannover, 1844.

79 Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, cuarta série, tomo V; Mexico, 1857, pp. 125-126.

79 Documents for the History of Mexico, fourth series, volume V; Mexico, 1857, pp. 125-126.

80 Ibid., p. 132.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 132.

81 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. I, pp. 405-411.

81 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. I, pp. 405-411.

82 Hittell, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 191-193, 219-221.

82 Hittell, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 191-193, 219-221.

83 Venegas, Noticia de la California, tomo II, p. 343.

83 Venegas, News from California, vol. II, p. 343.

84 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. II, p. 48.

84 Venegas, A Natural and Civil History of California, vol. II, p. 48.

85 An Englishman named (probably) William Strafford, according to Bancroft; op. cit, vol. I, p. 444.

85 An Englishman named (likely) William Strafford, as noted by Bancroft; op. cit, vol. I, p. 444.

86 Venegas, Noticia de la California, tomo II, p. 370.

86 Venegas, News from California, vol. II, p. 370.

87 Ibid., p. 386.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 386.

88 Rudo Ensayo, Guiteras’ translation in Records of the American Catholic Historical Society of Philadelphia, vol. V, 1894, p. 124. Bandelier identified the author as Padre Nentwig, S. J., of Huassavas, eastern Sonora (Final Report of Investigations among the Indians, etc., part 1, in Papers of the Archæological Institute of America,” vol. III, 1890, p. 78). The name is written “John Nentuig” in a third-person reference in Guiteras’ translation; but an editorial footnote adds, “No doubt a printer’s mistake for Mentuig—L. F. F[lick]” (ibid., p. 191).

88 Rudo Ensayo, Guiteras’ translation in Records of the American Catholic Historical Society of Philadelphia, vol. V, 1894, p. 124. Bandelier identified the author as Father Nentwig, S. J., from Huassavas, eastern Sonora (Final Report of Investigations among the Indians, etc., part 1, in Papers of the Archæological Institute of America,” vol. III, 1890, p. 78). The name is written as “John Nentuig” in a third-person reference in Guiteras’ translation; however, an editorial footnote adds, “No doubt a printer’s mistake for Mentuig—L. F. F[lick]” (ibid., p. 191).

89 Noticias Estadisticas del Estado de Sonora, by José Francisco Velasco, Mexico, 1850, p. 124.

89 News Statistics of the State of Sonora, by José Francisco Velasco, Mexico, 1850, p. 124.

90 Theatro Americano, Descripcion General de los Reynos, y Provincias de la Nueva-España, y sus Jurisdicciones, Joseph Antonio de Villa-Señor, y Sanchez, segunda parte; Mexico, 1748, p. 392.

90 The American Theater, General Description of the Kingdoms and Provinces of New Spain, and their Jurisdictions, Joseph Antonio de Villa-Señor y Sánchez, second part; Mexico, 1748, p. 392.

91 Op. cit., p. 133.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See reference, p. 133.

92 Diario y Derrotero de lo Caminado, Visto, y Observado en el Discurso de la Visita general de Precidios, situados en las Provincias Ynternas de Nueva España; Guathemala, 1836, leg. 1514-1519.

92 Journal and Log of What Was Walked, Seen, and Observed During the General Visit of the Presidios, Located in the Internal Provinces of New Spain; Guatemala, 1836, leg. 1514-1519.

93 Historia de la Compañia de Jesus, vol. III, p. 290.

93 History of the Society of Jesus, vol. III, p. 290.

94 Rudo Ensayo, p. 193.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Rudo Ensayo, p. 193.

95 Bancroft, op. cit.. vol. I, pp. 532-533. The former were annihilated or driven into the Yaqui country by 1763 (Rudo Ensayo, p. 166).

95 Bancroft, op. cit.. vol. I, pp. 532-533. The former were destroyed or pushed into the Yaqui territory by 1763 (Rudo Ensayo, p. 166).

96 Sonora Histórico y Descriptivo, p. 319.

96 Sonora Historical and Descriptive, p. 319.

97 Ibid., p. 140.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 140.

98 Bancroft, op. cit., p. 517.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bancroft, mentioned earlier, p. 517.

99 “Diario del Padre Dominguez en Sonora y Sinaloa, 1731; manuscript in archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology.

99 “Diary of Father Dominguez in Sonora and Sinaloa, 1731; manuscript in archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology.

100 This place on Rio Sonora is not to be confounded with the Rancho (afterward Pueblo) of Pitiqui or San Diego de Pitiqui (The Geographical and Historical Dictionary of America, and the West Indies * * * of Colonel Don Antonio de Alcedo, by G. A. Thompson, London, 1814, vol. IV, p. 153), or Pitic chiquito (Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Est., vol. VIII, 1860, p. 454), or Pitiquin, now the town of Pitiquito on Rio San Ignacio.

100 This location on the Rio Sonora shouldn't be confused with the Rancho (later Pueblo) of Pitiqui or San Diego de Pitiqui (The Geographical and Historical Dictionary of America, and the West Indies * * * of Colonel Don Antonio de Alcedo, by G. A. Thompson, London, 1814, vol. IV, p. 153), or Pitic chiquito (Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Est., vol. VIII, 1860, p. 454), or Pitiquin, which is now the town of Pitiquito on the Rio San Ignacio.

101 Alegre, Historia de la Compañia de Jesus, tomo III, p. 288; Villa-Señor, Theatro Americano, segunda parte, p. 392; Rudo Ensayo, p. 193.

101 Alegre, History of the Jesuit Company, vol. III, p. 288; Villa-Señor, American Theatre, part two, p. 392; Rough Essay, p. 193.

102 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. I, p. 528.

102 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. I, p. 528.

103 Reise-Erinnerungen und Abenteuer aus der neuen Welt, von C. A. Pajeken, Bremen, 1861, p. 97.

103 Travel memories and adventures from the New World, by C. A. Pajeken, Bremen, 1861, p. 97.

104 Rudo Ensayo, p. 194; Bancroft, op. cit., vol. I, p. 535.

104 Rudo Ensayo, p. 194; Bancroft, same source, vol. I, p. 535.

105 Historia de la Compaña de Jesus, tomo III, pp. 290-291; cf. Apostolicos Afanes de la Compañia de Jesus, escritos por un Padre de la misma Sagrada Religion de su Provincia de Mexico; Barcelona, 1754, pp. 366-368.

105 Historia de la Compaña de Jesus, vol. III, pp. 290-291; see Apostolicos Afanes de la Compañia de Jesus, written by a Father of the same Sacred Religion from his Province of Mexico; Barcelona, 1754, pp. 366-368.

106 Rudo Ensayo, p. 229 (misspelled “Guiamas”).

106 Rudo Ensayo, p. 229 (misspelled “Guiamas”).

107 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. I, p. 554.

107 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. I, p. 554.

108 Documentos para la Historia de Mexico, cuarta série, tomo I, p. 85.

108 Documents for the History of Mexico, Fourth Series, Volume I, p. 85.

109 Historia de la Compañia de Jesus, tomo III, p. 298.

109 History of the Society of Jesus, volume III, p. 298.

110 Ibid., p. 299; Rudo Ensayo, p. 196. It is probable that part or all of the captives were quartered at Pueblo Seri, though, the record is silent on this point.

110 Ibid., p. 299; Rudo Ensayo, p. 196. It’s likely that some or all of the captives were housed at Pueblo Seri, but the record doesn't provide any details about this.

111 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., vol. I, p. 224.

111 Resumen de Noticias, op. cit., vol. I, p. 224.

112 Bancroft, op. cit., p. 565.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bancroft, cited work, p. 565.

113 Captain Fernando Sanchez Salvador, in his official Representaciones to the Crown in 1751, complains that these Indians “are allowed on frivolous pretexts to visit the presidios, and they make use of the privilege to discover weak points and to plan attacks” (Bancroft, op. cit., p. 542).

113 Captain Fernando Sanchez Salvador, in his official reports to the Crown in 1751, complains that these Indians "are allowed to visit the presidios for trivial reasons, and they take advantage of this privilege to find weak spots and to plan attacks" (Bancroft, op. cit., p. 542).

114 Theatro Americano, segunda parte, p. 401.

114 Theatro Americano, second part, p. 401.

115 Ibid., p. 392.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 392.

116 History of California, vol. II, p. 190.

116 History of California, vol. II, p. 190.

117 Ibid., p. 211. It is improbable that the Seri had anything to do with this particular butchery. According to Coues, the latter padre was killed at Sonoita; and he renders the name “Ruen or Ruhen” (On the Trail of a Spanish Pioneer; the Diary and Itinerary of Francisco Garcés, etc., 1900, vol. I, p. 88).

117 Ibid., p. 211. It's unlikely that the Seri had any involvement in this specific act of butchery. According to Coues, the latter padre was killed at Sonoita, and he translates the name as “Ruen or Ruhen” (On the Trail of a Spanish Pioneer; the Diary and Itinerary of Francisco Garcés, etc., 1900, vol. I, p. 88).

118 Op. cit., p. 193.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See previous citation, p. 193.

119 Op. cit., pp. 195-196.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 195-196.

120 Theatro Americano, p. 401.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ American Theater, p. 401.

121 Historia de la Compañia de Jesus, p. 216.

121 History of the Society of Jesus, p. 216.

122 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III), 1882, p. 704.

122 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III), 1882, p. 704.

123 Op. cit., p. 166.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Referenced, p. 166.

124 Ibid., pp. 197, 198.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 197, 198.

125 Nachrichten von verschiedenen Ländern des Spanisches Amerika, aus eigenhändigen Aufsätzen einiger Missionare der Gesellschaft Jesu, herausgegeben von Christoph Gottlieb von Murr, erster Theil; Halle, 1809, p. 255.

125 Nachrichten from various countries of Spanish America, based on personal writings of several missionaries from the Society of Jesus, published by Christoph Gottlieb von Murr, Volume One; Halle, 1809, p. 255.

126 The Noticia de las Personas qua han escrito ó publicado algunas obras sobre Idiomas que se hablan en la Republica (of Mexico), by Dr José Guadalupe Romero, includes a MS. “Vocabulario de las Lenguas Eudeve, Pina y Seris”, written by Padre Adamo Gilg (Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., 1860, tomo VIII, p. 378).

126 The Noticia de las Personas who have written or published works about the languages spoken in the Republic (of Mexico), by Dr. José Guadalupe Romero, includes a manuscript titled “Vocabulary of the Eudeve, Pina, and Seris Languages,” written by Father Adamo Gilg (Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., 1860, vol. VIII, p. 378).

127 Dávila, Sonora Histórico y Descriptivo, p. 10; Bancroft, op. cit., p. 672.

127 Dávila, Sonora Historical and Descriptive, p. 10; Bancroft, op. cit., p. 672.

128 Ibid., p. 319.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 319.

129 Crónica Seráfica y Apostólica del Colegio de Propaganda Fide de la Santa Cruz de Querétaro en la Nueva España ... escrita por el Padre Fray Juan Domingo Arricivita, 2ª parte, Mexico, 1792, p. 426.

129 Seraphic and Apostolic Chronicle of the College of Propaganda Fide of the Holy Cross of Querétaro in New Spain ... written by Father Friar Juan Domingo Arricivita, 2nd part, Mexico, 1792, p. 426.

130 Doubtless the structures approached the conventional Seri pattern, illustrated in the accompanying plate vi, from photographs taken on Tiburon in 1895.

130 Undoubtedly, the structures resembled the typical Seri pattern shown in the attached plate vi, based on photos taken in Tiburon in 1895.

131 Arricivita, op. cit., pp. 426-429, 520-524.

131 Arricivita, op. cit., pp. 426-429, 520-524.

132 Incorporated in Escudero, Noticias Estadisticas de Sonora y Sinaloa; Mexico, 1849, p. 18.

132 Incorporated in Escudero, Noticias Estadisticas de Sonora y Sinaloa; Mexico, 1849, p. 18.

133 Noticias Estadisticas del Estado de Sonora; Mexico, 1850, p. 124 et seq.

133 News Statistics of the State of Sonora; Mexico, 1850, p. 124 et seq.

134 Ibid., p. 132.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 132.

135 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. II, p. 682. It is incredible that such a confederation of so incongruous elements could ever have been effected; it is incomparably more probable that there was a succession, of outbreaks of the Seri, Piato, and Apache, each stimulated by the removal of soldiers for defense against the other enemies, just as Seri outrages follow Yaqui outbreaks today; but it was undoubtedly a custom of the times (a custom still existing) to connect the several enemies in current thought and speech.

135 Bancroft, op. cit., vol. II, p. 682. It's hard to believe that such a coalition of so many different groups could ever have been formed; it's much more likely that there were a series of attacks by the Seri, Piato, and Apache, each one sparked by the removal of soldiers who were sent to defend against other threats, just like how Seri attacks follow Yaqui outbreaks today. However, it was certainly a common practice at the time (a practice that still exists) to link different enemies in conversation and thought.

136 Reports of Explorations and Surveys to ascertain the most practicable and economical Route for a Railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, vol. III, part 3: Report upon the Indian Tribes, 1855, pp. 122-123. The original Cortez manuscript is now in the Library of Congress.

136 Reports of Explorations and Surveys to determine the most practical and cost-effective route for a railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, vol. III, part 3: Report on the Indian Tribes, 1855, pp. 122-123. The original Cortez manuscript is now located in the Library of Congress.

137 In Velasco, op. cit., p. 137.

137 In Velasco, cited work, p. 137.

138 Noticias Estadisticas de Sonora y Sinaloa, Compiladas y Amplificadas para la Comision de Estadistica Militar, por el Lic. D. José Agustin de Escudero; Mexico, 1849, p. 88.

138 Statistics News from Sonora and Sinaloa, Compiled and Expanded for the Military Statistics Commission, by Lic. D. José Agustin de Escudero; Mexico, 1849, p. 88.

139 Atlas Géographique et Physique du Royaume de la Nouvelle-Espagne, par Al. de Humboldt; Paris, 1811, carte générale.

139 Geographical and Physical Atlas of the Kingdom of New Spain, by Al. de Humboldt; Paris, 1811, general map.

140 Voyage de Humboldt et Bonpland, troisième partie: Essai Politique sur le Royaume de la Nouvelle-Espagne, tome I; Paris, 1811, pp. 296-297.

140 Voyage of Humboldt and Bonpland, third part: Political Essay on the Kingdom of New Spain, volume I; Paris, 1811, pp. 296-297.

141 Travels in the Interior of Mexico in 1825, 1826, 1827, and 1828; London, 1829, p. 95.

141 Travels in the Interior of Mexico in 1825, 1826, 1827, and 1828; London, 1829, p. 95.

142 Ibid., p. 107.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 107.

143 Ibid., p. 280.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 280.

144 Op. cit., p. 289-290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See previous source, pp. 289-290.

145 Op. cit., pp. 294-295.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cited work, pp. 294-295.

146 Ibid., pp. 298, 299.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 298, 299.

147 Ibid., pp. 299, 300.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 299, 300.

148 Ibid., p. 395 et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 395 and onwards.

149 Ibid., p. 437.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 437.

150 Ibid., p. 438.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 438.

151 Ibid., pp. 235, 540.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 235, 540.

152 Exploration du Territoire de l’Orégon, des Californies et de la Mer Vermeille, exécutée pendant les années 1840, 1841 et 1842, tome i; Paris, 1844, p. 214.

152 Exploration of the Territory of Oregon, California, and the Red Sea, conducted during the years 1840, 1841, and 1842, volume i; Paris, 1844, p. 214.

153 Velasco, Noticias Estadisticas, pp. 124, 125. This chronicle is rendered peculiarly valuable by supplements in the form of Andrade’s and Espence’s journals, the latter incorporated (p. 125) after Velasco’s own writing was completed. The whole was revised, extended, and republished in the several volumes of the first series of Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., 1861-1806.

153 Velasco, Noticias Estadisticas, pp. 124, 125. This chronicle is especially valuable because of the additional information from Andrade’s and Espence’s journals, with the latter included (p. 125) after Velasco finished his own writing. The entire work was revised, expanded, and republished in the various volumes of the first series of Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., 1861-1806.

154 On August 14, 1844, Secretary Manuel Cabrera reported that “there are in this pueblo not more than fifteen families of Ceris located within its borders, maintaining themselves by the manufacture of earthen ollas and by the garbage of their neighbors, i. e., in time of harvest they glean the wheat and corn left scattered, and the bones, entrails, and hoofs of the stock slaughtered for consumption by the inhabitants.” (Incorporated in Velasco, op. cit., p. 138.)

154 On August 14, 1844, Secretary Manuel Cabrera reported that “there are no more than fifteen families of Ceris living in this pueblo, surviving by making earthen pots and by collecting the leftovers from their neighbors. During harvest, they pick up the wheat and corn that are left behind, as well as the bones, entrails, and hooves of the animals slaughtered for the people living here.” (Incorporated in Velasco, op. cit., p. 138.)

155 Thomas Spence, of Guaymas; apparently the “Mr. Spence” mentioned favorably by Hardy (Travels, p. 90).

155 Thomas Spence from Guaymas; apparently the “Mr. Spence” that Hardy positively mentioned (Travels, p. 90).

156 The expressions of the journal indicate that Espence was not familiar with the Seri custom of eviscerating and quartering stolen stock, consuming the entrails at once, and transporting the more substantial pieces across the strait on their balsas. Velasco fell into still further error in assuming that the expressions relate to tracks and other indications of the presence of living stock on the island.

156 The journal's notes show that Espence wasn't aware of the Seri practice of gutting and cutting up stolen livestock, eating the organs right away, and carrying the larger parts across the strait on their balsas. Velasco made an even bigger mistake by thinking that the notes referred to tracks and other signs of living animals on the island.

157 Velasco, op. cit., p. 168.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Velasco, cited work, p. 168.

158 Ibid., p. 169. On the same page Espence classifies the captives as 6 oldsters (“viejos de sesenta años arriba”), 12 beldames (“viejas de cuarenta arriba”), 1 blind, 1 idiotic boy, 5 cripples male, 1 cripple female, 180 women, 160 children, and 144 men—510 in all. Andrade’s report enumerates the captives as 120 in each of two lots, with 20 or more in a third, making 260 odd (ibid., p. 180); while Velasco put the number at 200 and odd (“docientas y tantas persones”), men, women, and children, including only 30 odd oldsters and warriors combined. The discrepancies are characteristic, and of a piece with those prevailing in the same latitude and longitude today: e. g., Velasco says there are but four waters on the island, Espence says there are eight or ten, and Andrade implies that there are many; Velasco says there were 160 troops from Guaymas, while Andrade mentions only 80; Espence says that in transporting the stock (as noted above) but one mule was drowned by the strength of the current, while Andrade says that a mule and a steer were lost on account of the bad storm which prevailed during the day; yet there is such agreement between dates and facts in the independent journals of Andrade and Espence as to establish general verity despite the provincial weakness concerning details.

158 Ibid., p. 169. On the same page, Espence lists the captives as 6 old people (“viejos de sesenta años arriba”), 12 older women (“viejas de cuarenta arriba”), 1 blind person, 1 mentally challenged boy, 5 male disabled people, 1 female disabled person, 180 women, 160 children, and 144 men—510 in total. Andrade’s report mentions that the captives were 120 in each of two groups, with 20 or more in a third, totaling about 260 (ibid., p. 180); while Velasco estimated the number at just over 200 (“docientas y tantas persones”), including men, women, and children, with just 30 old people and warriors combined. These discrepancies are typical and reflect those still seen in the same area today: for example, Velasco reports only four water sources on the island, while Espence claims there are eight or ten, and Andrade suggests that there are many; Velasco states there were 160 troops from Guaymas, while Andrade mentions only 80; Espence states that during the transport of the stock (as noted above) only one mule was drowned due to the current, while Andrade claims that a mule and a steer were lost because of the severe storm that day; yet, there is enough agreement between dates and facts in the independent accounts of Andrade and Espence to establish a general truth despite the inconsistencies regarding details.

159 According to Andrade (ibid., p. 182); Velasco says September 16 (ibid., p. 126).

159 According to Andrade (same source, p. 182); Velasco mentions September 16 (same source, p. 126).

160 Velasco, Noticias Estadisticas, p. 127.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Velasco, News Stats, p. 127.

161 Ibid., p. 170.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 170.

162 Ibid., p. 128.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 128.

163 Ibid., p. 129. This naive recital is far from unique among the chronicles of conquest over the Seri. All of the records recount victories more or less brilliant, even when there are strong indications between lines that the Caucasians were outnumbered, outfought, forced from the field, and even driven into the protection of the pueblos. The Seri side of the story has never been told.

163 Ibid., p. 129. This simplistic account is far from unique among the stories of conquest over the Seri. All the accounts describe victories that seem impressive, even when there are clear hints that the Caucasians were outnumbered, outmatched, forced off the battlefield, and even pushed into the safety of the pueblos. The Seri perspective has never been shared.

164 Velasco, Noticias Estadisticas, pp. 169-171.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Velasco, Stats News, pp. 169-171.

165 Ibid., pp. 127-128.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 127-128.

166 Ibid., p. 129.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 129.

167 Ibid., pp. 131-133.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See same source, pp. 131-133.

168 Noticias Estadisticas, pp. 141-142.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ News Statistics, pp. 141-142.

169 A Map of the United States of Mexico, as organized and defined by the several Acts of the Congress of that Republic, constructed from a great variety of Printed and Manuscript Documents, by H. S. Tanner. Third edition, 1846. The map in De Mofras (op. cit., atlas) is little better.

169 A map of the United States of Mexico, organized and defined by the various Acts of the Congress of that Republic, created from a wide range of printed and handwritten documents, by H. S. Tanner. Third edition, 1846. The map in De Mofras (op. cit., atlas) is barely any better.

170 Nouvelles Annales des Voyages, tome iii, 1842, p. 320 (cited by Buschmann, Die Spuren der aztekischen Sprache im nördlichen Mexico und höheren amerikanischen Norden, in Abhandlungen der Königlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, aus dem Jahre 1854, zweiter Supplement, Band; Berlin, 1859, p. 219).

170 Nouvelles Annales des Voyages, volume iii, 1842, p. 320 (cited by Buschmann, The Traces of the Aztec Language in Northern Mexico and the Upper American North, in Proceedings of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin, from the year 1854, second supplement, volume; Berlin, 1859, p. 219).

171 Versuch einer getreuen Schilderung der Republik Mejico besonders in Beziehung auf Geographie, Ethnographie, und Statistik: Hannover, 1844, Band I, p. 441; Band II, p. 415.

171 Attempt at an accurate description of the Republic of Mexico, especially concerning geography, ethnography, and statistics: Hannover, 1844, Volume I, p. 441; Volume II, p. 415.

172 Ibid., Band II, pp. 419-420.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., Vol. II, pp. 419-420.

173 Ibid., Band I, p. 210.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., Vol. I, p. 210.

174 Peñafiel defines “Seris” as the “name of a tribe of Sonora, originating probably in the Opata language” (Nomenclatura Geográfica de Mexico—Etimologías de los Nombres de Lugar ... por el Dr. Antonio Peñafiel, primera parte, 1897, p. 225); while Pimentel defines two suggestively similar Opata words, “Serarai, paso menudo y bueno”, and “Sërerài, velocidad de la persona que corre” (Vocabulario Manual de la Lengua Opata, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., tomo X, 1863, p. 306), i. e., a good and direct pace, and the speed of a person running, respectively (cf. postea. p. 125).

174 Peñafiel defines “Seris” as the “name of a tribe from Sonora, probably derived from the Opata language” (Nomenclatura Geográfica de Mexico—Etimologías de los Nombres de Lugar ... por el Dr. Antonio Peñafiel, primera parte, 1897, p. 225); while Pimentel defines two similarly suggestive Opata words, “Serarai, good and gentle path,” and “Sërerài, the speed of a person running” (Vocabulario Manual de la Lengua Opata, Bol. Soc. Mex. Geog. y Estad., tomo X, 1863, p. 306), meaning a good and straightforward pace, and the speed of a person running, respectively (cf. postea. p. 125).

175 Lenguas Primitivas, in Boletin del Institute Nacional de Geografía, y Estadística de la República Mexicana, third edition, tomo II; Mexico, 1861, pp. 148-149.

175 Primitives Languages, in Bulletin of the National Institute of Geography and Statistics of the Mexican Republic, third edition, volume II; Mexico, 1861, pp. 148-149.

176 Personal Narrative of Explorations and Incidents in Texas, New Mexico, California, Sonora, and Chihuahua, Connected with the United States and Mexican Boundary Commission, during the years 1850, ’51, ’52, and ’53; New York, 1854, vol. I, p. 403 et seq.

176 Personal Narrative of Explorations and Incidents in Texas, New Mexico, California, Sonora, and Chihuahua, Related to the United States and Mexican Boundary Commission, during the years 1850, ’51, ’52, and ’53; New York, 1854, vol. I, p. 403 et seq.

177 Ibid., pp. 463-464.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 463-464.

178 This transcript is entered in a blank schedule Vocabulary of 180 Words, printed by the Smithsonian Institution for Gibbs, with a supplementary sheet; it is dated January 1, 1852; and while the published “Narrative” implies that it was recorded December 31, 1851, the manuscript date is confirmed by the Seri interpreter, Kolusio.

178 This transcript is included in a blank schedule Vocabulary of 180 Words, printed by the Smithsonian Institution for Gibbs, along with a supplementary sheet; it is dated January 1, 1852; and while the published “Narrative” suggests that it was recorded on December 31, 1851, the manuscript date is verified by the Seri interpreter, Kolusio.

179 At the time of inquiry the importance of the other vocabularies was not suspected, and the interrogation was not pushed far enough to permit identification of the persons to whom they were given.

179 At the time of the investigation, the significance of the other vocabularies wasn’t recognized, and the questioning didn’t go deep enough to identify the individuals they were assigned to.

180 Die Spuren der aztekischen Sprache im nördlichen Mexico und höheren amerikanischen Norden. Zugleich eine Musterung der Völker und Sprachen des nördlichen Mexicos und der Westseite Nordamerikas von Guadalaxara an bis zum Eismeer. Von Joh. Carl Ed. Buschmann (in Abhandlungen der Königlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, aus dem Jahre 1854, zweiter Supplement-Band); Berlin, 1859, pp. 218-221 and elsewhere.

180 The traces of the Aztec language in northern Mexico and the higher American north. At the same time, a survey of the peoples and languages of northern Mexico and the western side of North America from Guadalajara to the Arctic Ocean. By Joh. Carl Ed. Buschmann (in Proceedings of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin, from the year 1854, second supplement volume); Berlin, 1859, pp. 218-221 and elsewhere.

181 Arizona and Sonora, etc., by Sylvester Mowry; New York, 1864. pp. 98-102.

181 Arizona and Sonora, etc., by Sylvester Mowry; New York, 1864. pp. 98-102.

182 Notes on the State of Sonora, by Charles P. Stone, 1800; Washington, 1861, p. 19. Reprinted in Historical Magazine, vol. V, 1861, pp. 161-169.

182 Notes on the State of Sonora, by Charles P. Stone, 1800; Washington, 1861, p. 19. Reprinted in Historical Magazine, vol. V, 1861, pp. 161-169.

183 Reise-Erinnerungen und Abenteuer aus der neuen Welt in ethnographischen Bildern, von C. A. Pajeken; Bremen, 1861, pp. 97-99.

183 Travel memories and adventures from the New World in ethnographic images, by C. A. Pajeken; Bremen, 1861, pp. 97-99.

184 A Grammatical Sketch of the Heve Language, translated from an unpublished Spanish manuscript; in Library of American Linguistics, vol. III, New York, 1861, p. 7.

184 A Grammatical Sketch of the Heve Language, translated from an unpublished Spanish manuscript; in Library of American Linguistics, vol. III, New York, 1861, p. 7.

185 Cuadro Descriptivo y Comparativo de las Lenguas Indigenas de México, ó Tratado de Filología Mexicana, por Francisco Pimentel, segunda edicion unica completa, tomo II; Mexico, 1875, p. 229. The first edition of the work was published in two volumes, dated, respectively, 1862 and 1865.

185 Descriptive and Comparative Overview of Indigenous Languages of Mexico, or Treatise on Mexican Philology, by Francisco Pimentel, second unique complete edition, volume II; Mexico, 1875, p. 229. The first edition of the work was published in two volumes, dated 1862 and 1865, respectively.

186 Ibid., p. 241.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 241.

187 Ibid., p. 234.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 234.

188 Geografia de las Lenguas y Carta Etnográfica de México, Precedidas de un Ensayo de Clasificacion de las Mismas Lenguas y de Apuntes para las Inmigraciones de las Tribus, por el Lic. Manuel Orozco y Berra; Mexico, 1864, p. 59.

188 Geography of Languages and Ethnographic Map of Mexico, Preceded by an Essay on the Classification of the Same Languages and Notes on the Immigration of Tribes, by Lic. Manuel Orozco y Berra; Mexico, 1864, p. 59.

189 Ibid., p. 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 42.

190 Ibid., pp. 353-354.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 353-354.

191 Dictionnaire de la Langue Nahuatl ou Mexicaine, rédigé d’après les Documents imprimés et Manuscrits les plus authentiques et précédé d’une Introduction; Paris, 1885, p. xviii.

191 Dictionary of the Nahuatl or Mexican Language, compiled from the most authentic printed documents and manuscripts, and preceded by an Introduction; Paris, 1885, p. xviii.

192 Tableau de la Distribution ethnographiques des Nations et des Langues au Mexique; Congrès International des Américanistes, Compte-rendu de la Seconde Session, tome II, 1878, p. 37.

192 Table of Ethnographic Distribution of Nations and Languages in Mexico; International Congress of Americanists, Proceedings of the Second Session, volume II, 1878, p. 37.

193 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III, 1882, p. 704). The “east” in this quotation is obviously a misprint for west.

193 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III, 1882, p. 704). The “east” in this quote is clearly a typo for west.

194 Ibid., p. 705.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 705.

195 Op. cit., vol. I, pp. 604-605.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Reference previously cited, vol. I, pp. 604-605.

196 Ibid., p. 471.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., p. 471.

197 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III, 1882, p. 576.)

197 The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft, vol. III (The Native Races, vol. III, 1882, p. 576.)

198 Ibid., p. 579.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 579.

199 Ibid., pp. 584, 587, 589.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, pp. 584, 587, 589.

200 Ibid., p. 590.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 590.

201 Publication No. 56, U. S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation. The West Coast of Mexico, from the Boundary Line between the United States and Mexico to Cape Corrientes, including the Gulf of California (revised edition), 1880, p. 145.

201 Publication No. 56, U.S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation. The West Coast of Mexico, from the U.S.-Mexico border to Cape Corrientes, including the Gulf of California (revised edition), 1880, p. 145.

202 Ibid., pl. XV, p. 136 (one of these illustrations is reproduced in figure 28).

202 Ibid., pl. XV, p. 136 (one of these illustrations is shown in figure 28).

203 The negatives of these pictures were retained by Mr Von Bayer, and have been kindly turned over to the Bureau of American Ethnology. Unfortunately the archery negative had been shattered, but enough of the fragments were preserved to show all essential details and to afford a basis for the drawing reproduced in plate XXIX.

203 Mr. Von Bayer kept the negatives of these pictures and generously handed them over to the Bureau of American Ethnology. Unfortunately, the archery negative was broken, but enough pieces were saved to show all the important details and provide a foundation for the drawing shown in plate XXIX.

204 The imposing official map of 1890, titled Carta General de la Republica Mexicana, formada en el Ministerio de Fomento con los datos mas recientes, por disposicion del Secretario del Ramo, General Carlos Pacheco, engraved and printed by Erhard Hermanos, Paris, on a scale of about 32 miles to the inch, represents Rio Bacuache as about the right length and with its center in about the right location, but as running at almost exactly right angles to its actual course; and it contains divers other equally startling errors.

204 The official map from 1890, titled Carta General de la Republica Mexicana, created in the Ministry of Fomento with the latest data, by order of the Secretary of the Department, General Carlos Pacheco, engraved and printed by Erhard Hermanos in Paris, at a scale of roughly 32 miles per inch, shows Rio Bacuache as being the right length and located approximately correctly, but it runs almost exactly perpendicular to its actual path; and it has several other equally surprising mistakes.

205 Recorded by Gatschet, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, Berlin, Band XV, 1883, p. 130. The location of the hacienda was not specified, but there are local traditions of Seri raids about that time, both at Hacienda Serna (between Caborca and Libertad anchorage) and at Bacuachito.

205 Recorded by Gatschet, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, Berlin, Volume XV, 1883, p. 130. The exact location of the hacienda wasn't mentioned, but there are local stories of Seri raids around that time, both at Hacienda Serna (between Caborca and Libertad anchorage) and at Bacuachito.

206 “The Seris, the chief tells me, comprise about 200 men fit to bear arms—they still live part on the island of Tiburon, part on the coast.”

206 “The Seris, the chief tells me, consist of around 200 armed men—they still live partly on the island of Tiburon and partly on the coast.”

207 M Pinart’s reference to his interpreter is not only impersonal but ambiguous. “Interpreted by the chief of the Seri and another Indian” might be considered to imply two Seri Indians, though it may, with equal linguistic probability, be interpreted to mean the specified Seri and another Indian; and while the temporary presence of a second Seri at the pueblo seems possible, the sum of probabilities points so clearly the other way as to demand the latter interpretation.

207 M Pinart’s mention of his interpreter is not just impersonal but unclear. “Interpreted by the chief of the Seri and another Indian” could suggest two Seri Indians, but it could just as likely mean the identified Seri and another Indian; and while it’s possible that a second Seri was temporarily at the pueblo, the overall probabilities strongly favor the latter interpretation.

208 Gatschet, op. cit., p. 131.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gatschet, cited work, p. 131.

209 Bandelier, Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the Southwestern United States, part i, in Papers of the Archæological Institute of America, American series, iii, Cambridge, 1890, p. 76. As already noted, it is probable that the Guayma lost their “antigua idioma” (Ramirez, op. cit. p. 149) long before M Pinart’s visit; and pending definite statement of the facts on which his conclusion rests it is necessary to retain the classification based on specific and repeated, albeit unskilled, observations of the identity of the Guayma speech with that of the Seri.

209 Bandelier, Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the Southwestern United States, part i, in Papers of the Archæological Institute of America, American series, iii, Cambridge, 1890, p. 76. As mentioned earlier, it is likely that the Guayma lost their "ancient language" (Ramirez, op. cit. p. 149) long before M. Pinart's visit; and until there's a clear statement on the facts supporting his conclusion, it is necessary to maintain the classification based on specific and repeated, albeit untrained, observations of the similarity between Guayma speech and that of the Seri.

210 In correspondence with Dr Gatschet, op. cit., p. 133.

210 In correspondence with Dr. Gatschet, op. cit., p. 133.

211 Dr. Gatschet has recently revised the data and recognized the distinctness of the Seri tongue (Science, new series, vol. XII, 1900, p. 556-558).

211 Dr. Gatschet has recently updated the data and acknowledged the uniqueness of the Seri language (Science, new series, vol. XII, 1900, p. 556-558).

212 Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1885-’86; Washington, 1891, p. 137.

212 Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1885–’86; Washington, 1891, p. 137.

213 Op. cit., p. 74.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 74.

214 The American Race: A Linguistic Classification and Ethnographic Description of the Native Tribes of North and South America; New York, 1891, p. 335.

214 The American Race: A Linguistic Classification and Ethnographic Description of the Native Tribes of North and South America; New York, 1891, p. 335.

215 Mr. Hewitt’s discussion (postea, pp. 299-344) gives fuller details of this short vocabulary.

215 Mr. Hewitt’s discussion (postea, pp. 299-344) provides more details about this brief vocabulary.

216 The following paragraphs are condensed from oral recitals by Señor Encinas (a notably straightforward and judicious authority), supplemented and corroborated in all essential details by Señores Andres Noriega, Ygnacio Lozania, and several other habitués of the Seri borderland, as well as by Kolusio and Mashém, several Papago informants, and various collateral documents.

216 The following paragraphs are summarized from oral accounts by Señor Encinas (who is known for being straightforward and wise), supported and confirmed in all key details by Señores Andres Noriega, Ygnacio Lozania, and several other regulars of the Seri border region, along with Kolusio and Mashém, a few Papago informants, and various related documents.

217 Typical Seri jacales, as described by Don Pascual in 1894, were observed on Tiburon by the 1895 expedition, as shown by the photographs reproduced in plates VII, VIII, and IX.

217 Typical Seri jacales, as described by Don Pascual in 1894, were seen on Tiburon by the 1895 expedition, as shown by the photographs reproduced in plates VII, VIII, and IX.

218 The specimen described by Dr Hrdlička, postea, p. 141.

218 The specimen mentioned by Dr. Hrdlička, later in the text, page 141.

219 A typical single jacal and the entire rancheria gathered at Costa Rica in 1894 are shown from photographs in plates X and XI.

219 A typical single jacal and the whole rancheria gathered in Costa Rica in 1894 are shown in photographs in plates X and XI.

220 The accompanying plate XII is reproduced, from a photograph of a small group of Seri traders taken near Guaymas, probably during the eighties. It was kindly furnished by F. A. Ober, who purchased it in Guaymas.

220 The accompanying plate XII is taken from a photo of a small group of Seri traders near Guaymas, likely from the 1980s. It was generously provided by F. A. Ober, who bought it in Guaymas.

221 Boletin de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografia y Estadistica, tomo XI, 1862, pp. 124-125.

221 Bulletin of the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics, volume XI, 1862, pp. 124-125.

222 A number of Californians and Arizonians, especially M. M. Rice, of Phoenix, intimated a strong desire to join the 1895 expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology for the express purpose of personally ascertaining the fate and seeking the remains of Robinson, who was extensively known in southern California and southwestern Arizona.

222 Several people from California and Arizona, particularly M. M. Rice from Phoenix, expressed a strong interest in joining the 1895 expedition of the Bureau of American Ethnology to find out what happened to Robinson and to search for his remains. He was well-known in southern California and southwestern Arizona.

223 San Francisco Chronicle, October 16, 1898, p. 3. The details of the episode, including the correspondence of Consular Agent Crocker, were printed in the newspapers of San Diego (the place of residence of Porter and Johnson), as well as in those of San Francisco and other cities; and there was considerable correspondence concerning the matter with the State Department at Washington. Some reports recount that the bodies of Porter and Johnson were rent to fragments and devoured, but these details naturally lack confirmation. El Mudo’s portrait appears in plate XIX.

223 San Francisco Chronicle, October 16, 1898, p. 3. The details of the incident, including the letters from Consular Agent Crocker, were published in the newspapers of San Diego (where Porter and Johnson lived), as well as in those of San Francisco and other cities; and there was a lot of correspondence about the issue with the State Department in Washington. Some reports say that the bodies of Porter and Johnson were torn to pieces and eaten, but these details understandably lack confirmation. El Mudo’s portrait appears in plate XIX.

224 The quotations are from the account of T. H. Silsbee, of San Diego, prepared on his return from a visit to Costa Rica.

224 The quotes come from T. H. Silsbee's account from San Diego, created after his trip to Costa Rica.

225 El Estado de Sonora, Mexico. Sus Industrias, Comerciales, Mineras y Manufacturas. Obra Publicada bajo los Auspicios del Gobierno del Estado. Obra Ilustrada, Octubre de 1897. By J. R. Southworth, Nogales; p. 73.

225 The State of Sonora, Mexico. Its Industries, Commerce, Mining, and Manufacturing. Work Published under the Auspices of the State Government. Illustrated Work, October 1897. By J. R. Southworth, Nogales; p. 73.

226 Cf. The Beginning of Mathematics, in the American Anthropologist, new series, vol. I, 1899, p. 651.

226 Cf. The Beginning of Mathematics, in the American Anthropologist, new series, vol. I, 1899, p. 651.

227 Vocabulario Manual de la Lengua Ópata, por Francisco Pimentel; Boletin de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografia y Estadistica, tomo X, 1863, pp. 287-313.

227 Vocabulary Manual of the Ópata Language, by Francisco Pimentel; Bulletin of the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics, volume X, 1863, pp. 287-313.

228 In the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology.

228 In the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology.

229 The latter form (se-ere) corresponds precisely with the current Papago pronunciation of the term, though none of the various Papago informants consulted were able to interpret the expression; indeed, they simply relegated it to the category of “old names” which they deemed it needless to discuss. An archaic form of orthography, noted in the synonymy (pp. 128-130), is SSeri, which suggests the same sounding of the initial sibilant.

229 The latter form (se-ere) matches exactly with how the Papago people pronounce the term today, but none of the Papago informants we consulted could explain the expression; they just classified it as an “old name” that they felt wasn’t worth discussing. An outdated spelling noted in the synonyms (pp. 128-130) is SSeri, which indicates the same sound for the initial sibilant.

230 From 105 to 130 miles; Bartlett, Personal Narrative, vol. I, p. 445.

230 From 105 to 130 miles; Bartlett, Personal Narrative, vol. I, p. 445.

231 Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology, Chicago, 1894, p. 104. In a letter to Mr F. W. Hodge, under date of September 11, 1900, Dr Lumholtz says: “After renewed investigation I have come to another opinion regarding the meaning of the tribal name Tarahumari. This word is a Spanish corruption of the native name ‘Raramuri’. Though the meaning of this word is not clear, that much is certain that rala or tara means ‘foot’, and I therefore take it that we must be at least approximately correct when we say that the word signifies ‘foot-runner’.”

231 Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology, Chicago, 1894, p. 104. In a letter to Mr. F. W. Hodge, dated September 11, 1900, Dr. Lumholtz states: “After further investigation, I have changed my view on the meaning of the tribal name Tarahumari. This term is a Spanish variation of the native name ‘Raramuri’. Although the exact meaning of this word isn't clear, it is certain that rala or tara means ‘foot’, and therefore, I believe we can say with some confidence that the word signifies ‘foot-runner’.”

232 American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1895, p. 92.

232 American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1895, p. 92.

233 In view of the clear indications, both a priori and a posteriori, that the latest Guayma survivors must have taken the language of the Piman (Yaqui) tribesmen with whom they found refuge, and in view of his failure thus far to present his data for public consideration, M Pinart’s inference that the Guayma belonged linguistically to the Piman stock can hardly be admitted to hold against the specific statements of the Jesuit missionaries and such accomplished inquirers as Ramirez and Pimentel.

233 Given the clear evidence, both before and after the fact, that the recent Guayma survivors likely adopted the language of the Piman (Yaqui) tribesmen who sheltered them, and considering that he has not yet shared his findings for public evaluation, M Pinart’s conclusion that the Guayma were linguistically related to the Piman group can hardly be accepted over the specific accounts provided by the Jesuit missionaries and respected researchers like Ramirez and Pimentel.

234 Indian linguistic families, by J. W. Powell, in Seventh Annual Report, Bureau of Ethnology, 1885-86 (1891), p. 11.

234 Indian language families, by J. W. Powell, in the Seventh Annual Report, Bureau of Ethnology, 1885-86 (1891), p. 11.

235 Ibid., p. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 10.

236 These names seem rather to be Yuman; cf. Cocopa, Coconino, Cocomaricopa, Kohun, etc.

236 These names appear to be Yuman; see Cocopa, Coconino, Cocomaricopa, Kohun, etc.

237 It seems probable that the Seri were nearer to tribes of southern Baja California than to those of Sonora at the time of the earliest explorations, yet that the distinction was sufficiently strong to warrant the extension of the proposition to these tribes also.

237 It seems likely that the Seri were closer to the tribes of southern Baja California than to those of Sonora during the earliest explorations, but the difference was strong enough to justify extending the idea to include these tribes as well.

238 The Beginning of Agriculture, American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1895, p. 350. The Beginning of Zooculture, ibid., vol. X, 1897, p. 215.

238 The Start of Agriculture, American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, 1895, p. 350. The Start of Animal Cultivation, ibid., vol. X, 1897, p. 215.

239 The average net height and weight of the unit figure (that of the author) are about 5 feet 8⅝ inches and 200 pounds, respectively.

239 The average height and weight of the unit figure (the author) are approximately 5 feet 8⅝ inches and 200 pounds, respectively.

240 Or about 1.6176 meters estimated by the method of Rollet (cf. The Races of Man, J. Deniker, London, 1900, p. 33).

240 Or about 1.6176 meters, as estimated using Rollet's method (see The Races of Man, J. Deniker, London, 1900, p. 33).

241 The photo-mechanical reproductions do but meager justice to the splendid chest development of the Seri, young and old; for they were not only at semisomnolent rest during the hotter hours at which photography was most feasible, but invariably quailed before the mysterious apparatus and crouched shrinkingly in such wise as to contract their chests and lose their habitually erect and expansive carriage.

241 The photo-mechanical reproductions do little justice to the impressive chest development of the Seri, both young and old; for they were not only resting in a semi-sleep during the hotter hours when photography was easiest, but they also often flinched at the strange equipment and huddled in a way that caused them to shrink their chests and lose their normally upright and expansive posture.

242 A separate cranium was obtained by the 1895 expedition, having been sought and picked up by a Mexican member of the party in verification of his account of the killing of one of the Seri; but, in view of the possibility of erroneous identification, this skull was not submitted in connection with the complete skeleton. Subsequently this specimen also was put in Dr Hrdlička’s hands (at his request), and was kindly examined, with, the results recorded in the following letter:

242 During the 1895 expedition, a separate skull was collected, picked up by a Mexican member of the team to verify his account of killing one of the Seri; however, due to the chance of mistaken identification, this skull was not submitted alongside the complete skeleton. Later, this specimen was also given to Dr. Hrdlička at his request, and he kindly examined it, with the findings recorded in the following letter:

March 29, 1900.
Professor W J McGee,
Bureau of American Ethnology, Washington, D. C.

March 29, 1900.
Professor W.J. McGee
Bureau of American Ethnology, Washington, D. C.

Dear Sir: The skull which you submitted to me for examination shows the following:

Dear Sir: The skull you sent for examination reveals the following:

The skull is that of a male between 40 and 50 years of age. The facial parts and a portion of the left temporal bone are wanting; otherwise the specimen shows nothing pathologic. There are signs that the skull belonged to a very muscular individual. The occipital depressions, ridges, and protuberance are very marked, and the temporal ridges approach to within 1.7 cm. on the left and 2.3 cm. on the right of the sagittal suture. The whole skull is rather heavy and massive; thickness of parietal bones 4-8 mm.

The skull is from a male aged between 40 and 50 years. The facial features and part of the left temporal bone are missing; however, the specimen shows no signs of disease otherwise. There are signs that the skull belonged to someone very muscular. The depressions, ridges, and protrusions at the back of the skull are quite prominent, with the temporal ridges measuring just 1.7 cm away on the left and 2.3 cm on the right from the sagittal suture. Overall, the skull is heavy and thick, with the parietal bones measuring 4-8 mm thick.

The shape of the skull is unusual. The frontal region is rather broad (frontal diameter, minimum, 9.7; frontal diameter, maximum, 12.1 cm.), but quite flat and sloping. Frontal ridges wanting (broken away).

The shape of the skull is unusual. The front part is relatively wide (minimum frontal diameter, 9.7; maximum frontal diameter, 12.1 cm), but it is quite flat and slopes downward. The frontal ridges are missing (broken off).

The sagittal region is elevated into a crest which begins 4cm. posteriorly from the bregma, is most marked at the vertex, and proceeds in two tapering diverging crura to the lambdoid suture. The whole vertex region is considerably elevated and forms a blunt cone, which is particularly noticeable when the skull is viewed from the side.

The sagittal region rises into a crest that starts 4 cm behind the bregma, is most prominent at the vertex, and extends into two tapering diverging crura toward the lambdoid suture. The entire vertex area is considerably raised and forms a blunt cone, especially noticeable when viewed from the side.

The temporo-parietal regions are moderately convex and expanded anteriorly, but become flattened and gradually narrow toward the parietal bosses. The parietal bones measure each 11 cm. along the coronal, but only 8.8 cm. along the lambdoid suture. The gradual tapering of the parietal regions from their middle backward continues on the occipital bone up to the inion, and gives the norma verticalis of the skull a peculiar appearance.

The temporo-parietal areas are slightly curved and widen toward the front, but they flatten out and gradually narrow toward the parietal bumps. Each parietal bone is 11 cm long along the coronal suture but only 8.8 cm along the lambdoid suture. The gradual narrowing of the parietal regions from the middle to the back continues onto the occipital bone up to the inion, giving the top view of the skull a distinctive appearance.

The occipital region, as a whole, does not protrude much, as in true dolichocephals, but it shows a prominent broad crest, formed by the two superior semicircular lines and the region between them. The extreme occipital protuberance is pronounced and shows signs of strong muscular attachments. A small distance above the foramen magnum, on each side of the median line, is a very marked depression, surmounted by a dull ridge.

The back of the head doesn’t protrude much like in typical long-headed individuals, but there is a noticeable wide ridge formed by the two upper semicircular lines and the area between them. The bump at the back of the skull is prominent and shows clear signs of strong muscle attachments. Just above the large opening at the base of the skull, on each side of the centerline, there is a distinct depression topped by a dull ridge.

Of the mastoids, the right has been broken off and the left is damaged, but they do not seem to have been of extraordinary size.

The base of the skull is fairly well preserved and shows the following characters: The basilar process and the petrous portions of the temporal bones are more massive than usual. The glenoid fossæ are broad and of fair depth. The styloids are quite diminutive (right 0.7, left 0.5 cm. long). The foramen magnum is hexagonal in outline; it is 4.4 cm. long, 3.4 cm. wide; its plane is inclined backwards in such a way that its antero-posterior diameter prolonged would touch about the lower borders of the nasal aperture.

The base of the skull is in good condition and shows the following features: The basilar process and the petrous parts of the temporal bones are bulkier than average. The glenoid fossae are wide and moderately deep. The styloids are quite small (right 0.7, left 0.5 cm long). The foramen magnum is hexagonal, measuring 4.4 cm long and 3.4 cm wide; its plane slopes backward so that an extension of its antero-posterior diameter would meet around the lower edges of the nasal opening.

The cranial cavity can be well inspected through the opening caused by injury. The internal surface of the frontal bone shows but very few traces of brain impressions. There are several large impressions on each parietal bone, and deep, though rather small, fossæ for the extremities of the occipital lobes on the occipital bone. The superior border of the dorsum sellæ shows in the middle a rounded notch about 3 mm. deep.

The cranial cavity can be easily examined through the opening created by an injury. The inner surface of the frontal bone has very few signs of brain impressions. Each parietal bone has several large impressions, and there are deep, small depressions for the ends of the occipital lobes on the occipital bone. The upper edge of the dorsum sellae has a rounded notch in the middle, about 3 mm deep.

The serration of the sutures is throughout very simple.

Stitching is quite straightforward.

Measures—The glabello-occipital length and maximum width of the skull can not be accurately determined on account of injuries to the bones. They amount, respectively, to about 18.8 and 14 cm., giving the cephalic index of about 74.4 (moderate dolichocephaly). The basion-bregma height is 14.1 cm.; basion-vertex, 14.8 cm.; basion-obelion, 13.0 cm.; basion-lambda, 12.2 cm. The two more anterior of these measures characterize the skull as a rather high one. The two more posterior measures show the rapid downward slope of the posterior half of the sagittal region. The maximum circumference of the skull (above the ridges) is 52 cm.

Measurements—The glabello-occipital length and maximum width of the skull cannot be accurately determined due to injuries to the bones. They are approximately 18.8 cm and 14 cm, respectively, resulting in a cephalic index of about 74.4 (moderate dolichocephaly). The basion-bregma height is 14.1 cm; basion-vertex is 14.8 cm; basion-obelion is 13.0 cm; basion-lambda is 12.2 cm. The two anterior measurements suggest that the skull is quite high. The two posterior measurements show the steep downward slope of the back half of the sagittal region. The maximum circumference of the skull (above the ridges) is 52 cm.

The bregma-lambda arc measures 13.3, the lambda-opisthion arc 12.2 cm. Diameter between the asterions=10.7 cm.

The bregma-lambda arc measures 13.3 cm, and the lambda-opisthion arc is 12.2 cm. The diameter between the asterions is 10.7 cm.

If the skull under examination is considered from a purely evolutionary standpoint, it must be pronounced to be in many points inferior to the average white and even to the majority of Indian crania. An anthropological identification of the specimen is difficult, for the reason that we are still very imperfectly acquainted with the craniology of the peoples of southwestern United States and northern Mexico. From what we know of the crania of the Pima, and the extinct Santa Barbara, Santa Catalina, etc., Californians, it is possible to say that the individual whose skull is here reported upon may have belonged to a people physically related to either of these groups. The skull is very distinct from that of an Apache. The female Seri cranium examined by me before does not show certain of the peculiarities of this specimen; nevertheless it is very possible that both crania belonged to individuals of the same tribe.

From an evolutionary perspective, this skull is definitely inferior in many aspects compared to the average white skull and even most Indian skulls. Identifying the specimen anthropologically is difficult because our understanding of the skull shapes of people from the southwestern United States and northern Mexico is still quite limited. Based on what we know about the skulls of the Pima and the extinct Californians from Santa Barbara, Santa Catalina, and others, it is possible to suggest that the individual whose skull we are examining might have been related to either of these groups. The skull is quite different from that of an Apache. The female Seri skull I examined earlier doesn’t show some of the unique features of this specimen; however, it’s very possible that both skulls belonged to individuals from the same tribe.

Aleš Hrdlička.

Aleš Hrdlička.

243 Both these incisors were apparently lost at the same time, not from general lesion, and some years previous to the death of the individual, as the sockets appear exactly alike, bear no signs of violence, and are almost filled up with cancellous tissue (some religious or social rite?).

243 Both of these front teeth were clearly lost at the same time, not due to any widespread injury, and several years before the person's death, since the sockets look identical, show no signs of trauma, and are nearly filled with spongy bone tissue (maybe some religious or social ritual?).

244 If allowance is made for the effects of flattening of the occipital on the long diameter, and hence on the index, of a skull, it becomes apparent that the true index of this skull is probably of a low brachycephalic, or, at most, of mesocephalic order. It is very doubtful if the deformity is intentional; its moderate extent and the total lack of signs of counter-compression would indicate with more probability that the deformity might have been produced by the individual lying, when an infant, by compulsion or habit, on something hard, probably a board.

244 If we consider how the flattening of the back of the head affects the long diameter and, consequently, the index of a skull, it becomes clear that the true index of this skull is likely low brachycephalic or, at most, mesocephalic. It’s very uncertain whether the deformity was intentional; its moderate degree and the complete absence of signs of counter-compression suggest that the deformity may have been caused by the individual lying on something hard, probably a board, when they were an infant, either by force or habit.

245 The “biauricular” signifies the distance between points of the skull immediately above the commencement of the superior zygomatic border on the temporal.

245 The “biauricular” refers to the space between the points of the skull that are just above the start of the upper zygomatic border on the temporal bone.

246 Quain, Anatomy, 1893: Osteology, p. 127.

246 Quain, Anatomy, 1893: Osteology, p. 127.

247 Hovelacque et Hervé, Précis d’Anthropologie, 1887, pp. 112, 2937.

247 Hovelacque and Hervé, A Concise Guide to Anthropology, 1887, pp. 112, 2937.

248 Bulletin de la Société d’Anthropologie, 1868.

248 Bulletin of the Anthropology Society, 1868.

249 Hovelacque et Hervé, op. cit., p. 113.

249 Hovelacque and Hervé, cited work, p. 113.

250 Histoire Naturelle des Races Humaines, 1826, p. 304.

250 Histoire Naturelle des Races Humaines, 1826, p. 304.

251 Hovelacque et Hervé, op. cit., p. 291.

251 Hovelacque and Hervé, op. cit., p. 291.

252 The term Amerind (with the self-explanatory mutations Amerindian, Amerindize, etc.) has been established by the Anthropological Society of Washington as a convenient collective designation for the aboriginal American tribes (American Anthropologist, new series, 1, 1899, p. 582).

252 The term Amerind (along with the understandably related forms Amerindian, Amerindize, etc.) was set by the Anthropological Society of Washington as an easy collective term for the native American tribes (American Anthropologist, new series, 1, 1899, p. 582).

253 Defined postea, p. 188.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Defined later, p. 188.

254 The Trend of Human Progress, American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1899, p. 401.

254 The Trend of Human Progress, American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1899, p. 401.

255 The marital customs of the tribe are described postea, pp. 279-287.

255 The tribe's marriage customs are detailed later, on pages 279-287.

256 The law of conjugal conation was indeed suggested by observations on the peculiar marriage custom and peculiarly developed race-sense of the Seri tribe, and it has already been applied in certain of its aspects as an explanation of the initial humanization of mankind (The Trend of Human Progress, American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1889, pp. 415-418).

256 The law of marital instincts was actually proposed based on observations of the unique marriage customs and distinct racial awareness of the Seri tribe, and it has already been used in some of its aspects to explain the early humanization of humanity (The Trend of Human Progress, American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1889, pp. 415-418).

257 This tutelary may be the shark; it was described as a water monster instrumental in the creation and good for food, but the identification is not beyond doubt. Cf. p. 278.

257 This guardian could be the shark; it’s been referred to as a water monster important for creation and good for eating, but the identification isn’t completely certain. Cf. p. 278.

258 American Naturalist, vol. XXII, 1888. pp. 201-207.

258 American Naturalist, vol. XXII, 1888. pp. 201-207.

259 Wild Animals I Have Known, 1898, p. 119; Century Magazine, vol. LIX, 1900, pp. 656-660. In his lectures, Mr Seton-Thompson extends his interpretations to anterior as well as to posterior markings, especially the conspicuous and persistent facial features of deer, antelope, mongrel (or ancestral) dog, etc. Such facial markings seem especially characteristic of gregarious animals; and they are peculiarly significant as social symbols rather than as mere beacons for guidance in flight.

259 Wild Animals I Have Known, 1898, p. 119; Century Magazine, vol. LIX, 1900, pp. 656-660. In his talks, Mr. Seton-Thompson expands his interpretations to include both past and present markings, particularly the noticeable and lasting facial features of deer, antelope, mongrel (or ancestral) dogs, etc. These facial markings appear to be especially typical of social animals; and they hold particular importance as social symbols rather than just as signals for direction during escape.

260 The fundamental distinction is none the less valid by reason of the occasional combination of functions, as in the antelope “chrysanthemum” interpreted by Seton-Thompson.

260 The basic distinction still holds true despite the occasional mixing of functions, like the antelope "chrysanthemum" explained by Seton-Thompson.

261 The essentially zoocratic nature of Seri law and custom is set forth postea, p. 294.

261 The fundamentally animal-centered nature of Seri law and customs is outlined later, p. 294.

262 Travels, p. 286.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Travels, p. 286.

263 Hardy noted the use of “a small leathern bag, painted and otherwise ornamented”, as a medicine rattle (Travels, p. 282), and also described a wind-symbol and an effigy used for thaumaturgic purposes (ibid., pp. 294, 295).

263 Hardy mentioned the use of “a small leather bag, decorated and embellished,” as a medicine rattle (Travels, p. 282), and also described a wind symbol and a figure used for magical purposes (ibid., pp. 294, 295).

264 Cf. American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1899, p. 374.

264 Cf. American Anthropologist, new series, vol. 1, 1899, p. 374.

265 The spontaneous arrangement of organisms in accordance with mental grade is well illustrated by that solidarity of desert life which matures in the cultivation of plants and the investigation of animals (The Beginning of Agriculture, in The American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, October, 1895, pp. 350-375; The Beginning of Zooculture, ibid., vol. X, July 1897, pp. 215-230.)

265 The natural organization of living things based on their mental capabilities is clearly shown in the unity of desert life that develops through plant cultivation and animal study (The Beginning of Agriculture, in The American Anthropologist, vol. VIII, October, 1895, pp. 350-375; The Beginning of Zooculture, ibid., vol. X, July 1897, pp. 215-230.)

266 The laws of growth recognized herein have been somewhat more fully outlined elsewhere, notably in The Earth the Home of Man (Anthropological Society of Washington, Special Papers 2, 1894, pp. 3-8), and in Piratical Acculturation (American Anthropologist, vol. XI, 1898, pp. 243-249).

266 The growth laws discussed here have been more thoroughly explained in other works, particularly in The Earth the Home of Man (Anthropological Society of Washington, Special Papers 2, 1894, pp. 3-8), and in Piratical Acculturation (American Anthropologist, vol. XI, 1898, pp. 243-249).

267 The place of water among food substances is more fully discussed in The Potable Waters of Eastern United States, 14th Ann. Rep. of the U. S. Geol. Survey, 1894, pp. 5-8; the physiologic consequences of deprivation of water are outlined in The Thirst of the Desert, Atlantic Monthly, April 1898, pp. 483-488.

267 The role of water in food is explored in more detail in The Potable Waters of Eastern United States, 14th Ann. Rep. of the U. S. Geol. Survey, 1894, pp. 5-8; the physiological effects of water deprivation are discussed in The Thirst of the Desert, Atlantic Monthly, April 1898, pp. 483-488.

268 The preciousness of water in this hard province was impressed in the 1895 expedition, during which the cost of the commodity, reckoned on the basis of the time and labor involved in obtaining it, was estimated at, $10 or $12 per gallon, or about the wholesale price of the finest champagnes.

268 The value of water in this tough region was made clear during the 1895 expedition, where the cost of this essential resource, based on the time and effort needed to collect it, was estimated to be $10 or $12 per gallon, which was roughly the wholesale price of the best champagnes.

269 In this table the ratio is expressed by the weight in kilograms for each liter in capacity. The Papago and Pueblo specimens were selected from typical material in the National Museum and at random, save that in the Pueblo ollas choice was made of specimens corresponding approximately in size with those of the Seri.

269 In this table, the ratio is shown as the weight in kilograms for each liter of capacity. The Papago and Pueblo examples were chosen from typical materials at the National Museum and selected randomly, except that for the Pueblo ollas, we specifically picked samples that were roughly the same size as those of the Seri.

270 A lively and explicit account of Seri turtle-fishing appears in Hardy’s Travels in the Interior of Mexico, 1829, pp. 286-297: “Bruja’s bay is of considerable extent, and there are from five to three fathoms water close to Arnold’s island, in the neighborhood of which the Indians catch abundance of turtle in a singular manner. I have already described their canoes, which in Spanish are called ‘balsas’. An Indian paddles himself from the shore on one of these by means of a long, elastic pole of about 12 or 14 feet in length, the wood of which is the root of a thorn called mesquite, growing near the coast; and although the branches of this tree are extremely brittle, the underground roots are as pliable as whalebone and nearly as dark in color. At one end of this pole there is a hole an inch deep, into which is inserted another bit of wood, in shape like an acorn, having a square bit of iron 4 inches long fastened to it, the other end of the iron being pointed. Both the ball and cup are first moistened and then tightly inserted one within the other. Fastened to the iron is a cord of very considerable length, which is brought up along the pole, and both are held in the left hand of the Indian. So securely is the nail thus fixed in the pole that although the latter is used as a paddle it does not fall out.

270 A lively and detailed account of Seri turtle-fishing appears in Hardy’s Travels in the Interior of Mexico, 1829, pp. 286-297: “Bruja’s bay is quite large, with depths ranging from five to three fathoms of water near Arnold’s island, where the Indians catch plenty of turtles in a unique way. I've already described their canoes, known in Spanish as ‘balsas.’ An Indian paddles himself from the shore using one of these with a long, flexible pole about 12 or 14 feet long, made from the root of a thorn called mesquite, which grows near the coast. While the branches of this tree are very brittle, the underground roots are as flexible as whalebone and nearly as dark in color. At one end of this pole is a hole an inch deep, where another piece of wood, shaped like an acorn, fits snugly, with a square piece of iron, 4 inches long, attached to it, the other end of which is pointed. Both the ball and cup are first moistened, then tightly pressed together. Attached to the iron is a very long cord, which runs up along the pole and is held in the left hand of the Indian. The nail is secured in the pole so firmly that even when used as a paddle, it doesn’t fall out.

“A turtle is a very lethargic animal, and may frequently be surprised in its watery slumbers. The balsa is placed nearly perpendicularly over one of these unsuspecting sleepers, when the fisherman, softly sliding the pole through the water in the direction of the animal till within a foot or two of it, he suddenly plunges the iron into its back. No sooner does the creature feel itself transfixed than it swims hastily forward and endeavors to liberate itself. The slightest motion of the turtle displaces the iron point from the long pole, which would otherwise be inevitably broken and the turtle would as certainly be lost; but in the manner here described it is held by the cord fastened on to the iron which has penetrated its back till, after it has sufficiently exhausted its strength, it is hoisted on board the canoe by the fisherman, who proceeds to the shore in order to dispose of his prize.”

A turtle is a very slow-moving animal, often found caught off guard in its watery naps. The balsa is positioned almost straight up over one of these unsuspecting sleepers. The fisherman quietly slides the pole through the water toward the animal until he's about a foot or two away, then suddenly jabs the iron into its back. As soon as the turtle realizes it's been pierced, it quickly swims away, trying to escape. The slightest movement from the turtle dislodges the iron from the long pole, which would otherwise break, causing the turtle to get away. However, as described here, it is held by the cord attached to the iron that has gone into its back until it tires out enough for the fisherman to lift it onto the canoe and head back to shore to claim his catch.

271 The universal stone implement of the Seri, improvised from a cobblestone and used in nearly every industrial occupation (see postea, p. 235); the designation is mimetic, or onomatopoetic, from the sound of the stroke, particularly on animal tissue.

271 The universal stone tool of the Seri, made from a cobblestone and used in almost every industrial job (see postea, p. 235); the name is mimetic, or onomatopoeic, reflecting the sound of the impact, especially on animal tissue.

272 These details were furnished largely by Mashém and Señor Encinas, but were verified in essentials by personal observation of dietetic customs at Costa Rica in 1894; and they were corroborated by observations on both shores of El Infiernillo and Bahia Kunkaak in 1895. Especially significant were the remnants of a turtle feast on the southern beach of Punta Miguel interrupted by the approach of the exploring party. The indications were clear that the turtle had been landed and largely consumed before the fire was kindled, and that the cooking of the firmer portions had hardly been commenced before the camp was abandoned so hurriedly that not only the nearly eaten turtle and the glowing embers, but the harpoon (the specimen illustrated in figure 20), the still bloody and greasy hupf (that represented in plate LIV), and the fire-sticks were left behind. Gnawed fragments of charred plastrons are common relics about hastily abandoned camps generally.

272 Most of these details came from Mashém and Señor Encinas, but they were confirmed mainly through personal observations of eating habits in Costa Rica in 1894. They were also backed up by observations on both sides of El Infiernillo and Bahia Kunkaak in 1895. One notable find was the remains of a turtle feast on the southern beach of Punta Miguel, which was interrupted by the arrival of the exploring party. The evidence clearly showed that the turtle had been caught and mostly eaten before the fire was started, and that the cooking of the firmer pieces had barely begun before the camp was abandoned in such a rush that not only the nearly eaten turtle and the glowing embers were left behind, but also the harpoon (shown in figure 20), the still bloody and greasy hupf (depicted in plate LIV), and the fire-sticks. Chewed bits of burnt turtle shells are common remnants found around hastily deserted camps in general.

273 One of the smaller vertebræ and part of a rib are shown in the upper figure of plate vi.

273 One of the smaller vertebrae and part of a rib are shown in the upper figure of plate vi.

274 Travels, p. 290*.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Travels, p. 290.

275 History of California, 1789, vol. I, p. 41.

275 History of California, 1789, vol. I, p. 41.

276 Fire-making apparatus in the U. S. National Museum; Smithsonian Report for 1888, pt II, 1890, pp. 531-587, and elsewhere.

276 Fire-making tools in the U.S. National Museum; Smithsonian Report for 1888, pt II, 1890, pp. 531-587, and elsewhere.

277 Ordinarily the nether fire-stick is of soft and porous wood, flotsam palm-wood and water-logged pine being preferred.

277 Usually, the lower fire-stick is made from soft and porous wood, with driftwood from palm trees and waterlogged pine being the top choices.

278 The Arrow; Proceedings Am. Ass. Adv. Sci., vol. XLIV, 1895, pp. 232-240.

278 The Arrow; Proceedings Am. Ass. Adv. Sci., vol. XLIV, 1895, pp. 232-240.

279 Glave’s Journey to the Livingston Tree, The Century Magazine, vol. LII, 1896, p. 768.

279 Glave’s Journey to the Livingston Tree, The Century Magazine, vol. LII, 1896, p. 768.

280 A single incident expressing the Seri sentiment toward travailing animals must be noted: a few minutes after the group shown in plate XI was photographed, a starveling cur—a female apparently of nearly pure coyote blood and within a week of term—slunk toward the broken olla-kettle in the left center of the picture, in which a rank horse-foot was simmering; the woman bending over the kettle suddenly straightened and shot out her foot with such force and directness that the cur was lifted entirely over the corner of the nearest jacal, and the poor beast fell stunned and moaning, a prematurely born pup protruding from her two-thirds of its length. The sound of the stroke and fall attracted attention throughout the group; the women smiled and grunted approval of the well-aimed kick, and a dozen children gathered to continue the assault. Partially recovering, the cur struggled to its feet and started for the chapparal, followed by the jeering throng; at first the chase seemed sportive only, but suddenly one of the smaller boys (the third from the left in the group shown in plate XVI) took on a new aspect—his figure stiffened, his jaws set, his eyes shot purple and green, and he plunged into the lead, and just before the harried beast reached cover he seized the protruding embryo, jerked it away, and ran off in triumph. Three minutes afterward he was seen in the shelter of a jacal greedily gorging his spoil in successive bites, just as the Caucasian boy devours a peeled banana. Meanwhile, two or three mates who had struck his trail stood around begging bites and sucking at chance blood spatters on earth, skin, or tattered rags; and as the victor came forth later, licking his chops, he was met by half jocular but admiring plaudits for his prowess from the dozen matrons lounging about the neighboring jacales. Parallel instances, both observed and gathered at second hand, might be added in numbers; but this may suffice as the sole specific basis for the generalization which places the Seri below the plane of possible zooculture—a generalization so broad as to demand some record of data which it would be more agreeable to ignore.

280 One incident that shows the Seri's feelings toward working animals should be mentioned: just a few minutes after the group in plate XI was photographed, a starving dog—a female that looked almost entirely like a coyote and was about a week away from giving birth—crept toward the broken olla-kettle in the left center of the picture, where a foul horse foot was simmering; the woman leaning over the kettle suddenly straightened up and kicked out with such force and precision that the dog was lifted completely over the edge of the nearest jacal, landing stunned and moaning, with a prematurely born pup hanging out of her. The noise from the kick and the dog's fall caught everyone's attention; the women laughed and grunted in approval of the accurate kick, and a dozen children gathered to continue the attack. After partially recovering, the dog struggled to her feet and headed for the chaparral, followed by the teasing crowd; initially, the chase seemed like a game, but suddenly one of the smaller boys (the third from the left in the group in plate XVI) changed attitude—his body tensed, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashed purple and green, and he leaped to the front. Just before the frightened dog reached cover, he grabbed the exposed embryo, yanked it away, and ran off proudly. Three minutes later, he was spotted in the shelter of a jacal eagerly devouring his prize in big bites, just like a Caucasian boy eats a peeled banana. Meanwhile, two or three buddies who had followed him stood around, begging for bites and licking the blood splatters off the ground, skin, or torn rags; and when the victor came out later, licking his lips, he was met with half-joking but admiring cheers for his skill from the dozen women hanging out by the nearby jacales. There could be many other similar instances, both seen and heard secondhand, but this may be enough as the only specific evidence for the generalization that places the Seri below the potential for animal culture—a broad generalization that calls for some documentation, which would be more convenient to overlook.

281 This warrior’s clutch, and the notion that it is discreditable if not criminal for the masculine adult to take recourse to weapons in hand-to-hand slaughter, are strongly suggestive of zoomimic motives and of studied mimicry of the larger carnivores, such as the jaguar—the “neck-twister” of the Maya.

281 This warrior's grip, along with the idea that it's shameful, if not illegal, for an adult man to resort to weapons in close combat, strongly hints at animal-like motivations and deliberate imitation of larger predators like the jaguar—the "neck-twister" of the Maya.

282 Cf. The Beginning of Agriculture; The American Anthropologist, vol. VIII Oct., 1895, pp. 350-375.

282 Cf. The Beginning of Agriculture; The American Anthropologist, vol. VIII Oct., 1895, pp. 350-375.

283 An Account of the Aboriginal Inhabitants of the Californian Peninsula, as given by Jacob Baegert, a German Jesuit missionary.... Translated and arranged for the Smithsonian Institution by Charles Rau; Ann. Rep. Smithsonian Inst. for 1863, pp. 352-369. Baegert’s account of foods (pp. 363-367) is so apposite as to be worthy of quotation nearly entire:

283 An Account of the Indigenous People of the Californian Peninsula, as shared by Jacob Baegert, a German Jesuit missionary.... Translated and organized for the Smithsonian Institution by Charles Rau; Ann. Rep. Smithsonian Inst. for 1863, pp. 352-369. Baegert’s account of foods (pp. 363-367) is so relevant that it deserves to be quoted almost in full:

“Notwithstanding the barrenness of the country, a Californian hardly ever dies of hunger, except, perhaps, now and then an individual that falls sick in the wilderness and at a great distance from the mission, for those who are in good health trouble themselves very little about such patients, even if these should happen to be their husbands, wives, or other relations; and a little child that has lost its mother or both parents is also occasionally in danger of starving to death, because in some instances no one will take charge of it, the father being sometimes inhuman enough to abandon his offspring to its fate.

“Despite the harshness of the land, a Californian almost never dies of hunger, except maybe for someone who gets sick in the wilderness and far away from the mission. Those who are healthy rarely bother about such people, even if they happen to be their husbands, wives, or other family members. A little child who has lost its mother or both parents is also sometimes at risk of starving, because in some cases, no one will take care of it, with the father sometimes being cruel enough to leave his child to its fate.”

“The food of the Californians, as will be seen, is certainly of a mean quality, yet it keeps them in a healthy condition, and they become strong and grow old in spite of their poor diet. The only period of the year during which the Californians can satisfy their appetite without restraint is the season of the pitahayas, which ripen in the middle of June and abound for more than eight weeks. The gathering of this fruit may be considered as the harvest of the native inhabitants. They can eat as much of it as they please, and with some this food agrees so well that they become corpulent during that period; and for this reason I was sometimes unable to recognize at first sight individuals, otherwise perfectly familiar to me, who visited me after having fed for three or four weeks on these pitahayas. They do not, however, preserve them, and when the season is over they are put again on short rations. Among the roots eaten by the Californians may be mentioned the yuka, which constitutes an important article of food in many parts of America, as, for instance, in the island of Cuba, but is not very abundant in California. In some provinces it is made into a kind of bread or cake, while the Californians, who would find this process too tedious, simply roast the yukas in a fire like potatoes. Another root eaten by the natives is that of the aloë plant, of which there are many kinds in this country. Those species of this vegetable, however, which afford nourishment—for not all of them are edible—do not grow as plentifully as the Californians might wish, and very seldom in the neighborhood of water; the preparations, moreover, which are necessary to render this plant eatable, require much time and labor.... I saw the natives also frequently eat the roots of the common reed, just as they were taken out of the water. Certain seeds, some of them not larger than those of the mustard, and different sorts in pods that grow on shrubs and little trees, and of which there are, according to Father Piccolo, more than sixteen kinds, are likewise diligently sought; yet they furnish only a small quantity of grain, and all that a person can collect with much toil during a whole year may scarcely amount to 12 bushels.

“The food of the Californians, as will be seen, is definitely of a low quality, yet it keeps them healthy, and they become strong and age well despite their poor diet. The only time of year when Californians can eat freely is during the pitahaya season, which ripens in mid-June and lasts for over eight weeks. Gathering this fruit can be seen as the harvest for the local people. They can eat as much of it as they want, and for some, this food agrees so well that they gain weight during this period. Because of this, I sometimes didn’t recognize familiar individuals who visited me after consuming pitahayas for three or four weeks. However, they don’t preserve them, and once the season ends, they go back to eating in moderation. Among the roots the Californians eat is yuca, which is an important food source in many parts of America, like Cuba, but isn't very plentiful in California. In some regions, it’s made into a type of bread or cake, but the Californians, finding this process too tedious, simply roast yucas over the fire like potatoes. Another root consumed by the locals is from the aloe plant, of which there are many types in the area. However, the varieties that are edible—since not all are—don’t grow as abundantly as the Californians would like, and they very rarely grow near water; furthermore, the preparations needed to make this plant safe to eat take a lot of time and effort. I also saw the locals frequently eating the roots of common reeds directly out of the water. Certain seeds, some as small as mustard seeds, and various types in pods that grow on shrubs and small trees—of which, according to Father Piccolo, there are more than sixteen kinds—are also eagerly collected; however, they provide only a small amount of grain, and all that a person can gather with significant effort over an entire year may hardly total 12 bushels.”

“It can be said that the Californians eat, without exception, all animals they can obtain. Besides the different kinds of larger indigenous quadrupeds and birds, they live nowadays on dogs and cats; horses, asses, and mules; item, on owls, mice, and rats; lizards and snakes; bats, grasshoppers, and crickets; a kind of green caterpillar without hair, about a finger long, and an abominable white worm of the length and thickness of the thumb, which they find occasionally in old rotten wood, and consider as a particular delicacy. The chase of game, such as deer and rabbits, furnishes only a small portion of a Californian’s provisions. Supposing that for 100 families 300 deer are killed in the course of a year, which is a very favorable estimate, they would supply each family only with three meals in three hundred and sixty-five days, and thus relieve but in a very small degree the hunger and the poverty of these people. The hunting for snakes, lizards, mice, and field-rats, which they practice with great diligence, is by far more profitable and supplies them with a much greater quantity of articles for consumption. Snakes, especially, are a favorite sort of small game, and thousands of them find annually their way into the stomachs of the Californians.

“It can be said that Californians eat all animals they can get their hands on, without exception. In addition to various larger native mammals and birds, they currently eat dogs and cats; horses, donkeys, and mules; item, owls, mice, and rats; lizards and snakes; bats, grasshoppers, and crickets; a kind of hairless green caterpillar about a finger long, and a disgusting white worm the size and thickness of a thumb, which they sometimes find in old, rotten wood and consider a special delicacy. Hunting game, like deer and rabbits, provides only a small part of a Californian’s diet. Assuming that for 100 families, 300 deer are killed in a year, which is a very optimistic estimate, each family would only get three meals over the course of 365 days, so it hardly alleviates the hunger and poverty of these people. The hunting of snakes, lizards, mice, and field rats, which they do very actively, is much more productive and provides them with a larger quantity of food. Snakes, in particular, are a popular type of small game, and thousands of them end up being eaten by Californians each year.”

“In catching fish, particularly in the Pacific, which is much richer in that respect than the Gulf of California, the natives use neither nets nor hooks, but a kind of lance—that is, a long, slender, pointed piece of hard wood—which they handle very dexterously in spearing and killing their prey. Sea-turtles are caught in the same manner.

“In fishing, especially in the Pacific, which is way more abundant in that regard than the Gulf of California, the locals don’t use nets or hooks, but a type of spear—that is, a long, thin, pointed piece of hard wood—which they skillfully use to spear and kill their catch. They catch sea turtles in the same way.”

“I have now mentioned the different articles forming the ordinary food of the Californians; but, besides these, they reject nothing that their teeth can chew or their stomachs are capable of digesting, however tasteless or unclean and disgusting it may be. Thus they will eat the leaves of the Indian fig-tree, the tender shoots of certain shrubs, tanned or untanned leather, old straps of rawhide, with which a fence was tied together for years; item, the bones of poultry, sheep, goats, and calves; putrid meat or fish swarming with worms, damaged wheat or Indian corn, and many other things of that sort which may serve to appease the hunger they are almost constantly suffering. Anything that is thrown to the hogs will be also accepted by a Californian, and he takes it without feeling offended, or thinking for a moment that he is treated below his dignity. For this reason no one took the trouble to clean the wheat or maize, which was cooked for them in a large kettle, of the black worms and little bugs, even if the numbers of these vermin had been equal to that of the grains. By a daily distribution of about 150 bushels of bran (which they are in the habit of eating without any preparation) I could have induced all my parishioners to remain permanently in the mission, excepting during the time when the pitahayas are gathered.

“I've talked about the different foods that Californians typically eat; however, they don’t refuse anything their teeth can chew or their stomachs can handle, no matter how bland, unclean, or disgusting it may be. They eat the leaves of the prickly pear cactus, the young shoots of certain shrubs, tanned or untanned leather, old rawhide straps that were used to tie a fence together for years; item, the bones of poultry, sheep, goats, and calves; rotten meat or fish full of worms, spoiled wheat or corn, and many other similar items that can help satisfy their almost constant hunger. Anything tossed to the pigs will also be accepted by a Californian, and they take it without feeling insulted or thinking for a second that it’s beneath their dignity. Because of this, no one bothered to clean the wheat or corn that was cooked for them in a large pot, even when there were just as many bugs and worms as there were grains. By distributing around 150 bushels of bran daily (which they eat without any preparation), I could have kept all my parishioners at the mission permanently, except during the time for gathering the pitahayas."

“I saw one day a blind man, 70 years of age, who was busily engaged in pounding between two stones an old shoe made of raw deerskin, and whenever he had detached a piece he transferred it promptly to his mouth and swallowed it; and yet this man had a daughter and grown grandchildren. As soon as any of the cattle are killed and the hide is spread out on the ground to dry, half a dozen boys or men will instantly rush upon it and commence to work with knives, flints, and their teeth, tearing and scratching off pieces, which they eat immediately, till the hide is full of holes or scattered in all directions. In the mission of St. Ignatius and in others further toward the north there are persons who will attach a piece of meat to a string and swallow it and pull it out again a dozen times in succession, for the sake of protracting the enjoyment of its taste.

“I saw a blind man one day, 70 years old, who was busy pounding an old raw deerskin shoe between two stones. Whenever he took off a piece, he quickly put it in his mouth and swallowed it; and yet this man had a daughter and grown grandchildren. As soon as any cattle are killed and the hide is laid out to dry, a bunch of boys or men will immediately rush over and start working with knives, sharp stones, and their teeth, tearing off pieces which they eat right away, until the hide is full of holes or scattered everywhere. At the mission of St. Ignatius and others further north, there are people who attach a piece of meat to a string, swallowing it and pulling it out again a dozen times in a row, just to prolong the enjoyment of its taste.”

I must here ask permission of the kind reader to mention something of an exceedingly disgusting and almost inhuman nature, the like of which probably never has been recorded of any people in the world, but which demonstrates better than anything else the whole extent of the poverty, uncleanness, and voracity of these wretched beings. In describing the pitahayas I have already stated that they contain a great many small seeds resembling grains of powder. For some reason unknown to me these seeds are not consumed in the stomach, but pass off in an undigested state, and in order to save them the natives collect during the season of the pitahayas that which is discharged from the human body, separate the seeds from it, and roast, grind, and eat them, making merry over their loathsome meals, which the Spaniards therefore call the second harvest of the Californians. [This statement is corroborated in all particulars by Clavigero in his Storia della California, Venice, 1789, vol. I, p. 117.] When I first heard that such a filthy habit existed among them I was disinclined to believe the report, but to my utter regret I became afterwards repeatedly a witness to the proceeding, which they are unwilling to abandon, like many other bad practices [probably because of the fiducial character of the custom—W J M.]. Yet I must say in their favor that they have always abstained from human flesh, contrary to the horrible usage of so many other American nations who can obtain their daily food much easier than these poor Californians.

I must ask the kind reader's permission to mention something extremely disgusting and almost inhuman, something that has probably never been documented about any people in the world, but which shows more than anything else the full extent of the poverty, filth, and greed of these unfortunate individuals. In discussing the pitahayas, I have already noted that they contain many small seeds that look like grains of powder. For reasons I don't understand, these seeds are not digested and are expelled from the body intact. To make use of them, during the pitahaya season, the locals collect what is discharged from the human body, separate the seeds, roast, grind, and eat them, joking about their repulsive meals, which the Spaniards then referred to as the second harvest of the Californians. [This statement is confirmed in detail by Clavigero in his Storia della California, Venice, 1789, vol. I, p. 117.] When I first heard about such a disgusting habit, I was reluctant to believe it, but to my deep regret, I later witnessed this practice more than once, which they seem unwilling to give up, like many other negative customs [probably due to the traditional nature of the habit—W J M.]. However, I must commend them for always avoiding human flesh, unlike so many other American nations who can acquire their daily food much more easily than these poor Californians.

“They have no other drink but the water, and heaven be praised that they are unacquainted with such strong beverages as are distilled in many American provinces from Indian corn, the aloë, and other plants, and which the Americans in those parts merely drink for the purpose of intoxicating themselves. When a Californian encounters during his wanderings a pond or pool, and feels a desire to quench his thirst, he lies flat on the ground and applies his mouth directly to the water. Sometimes the horns of cattle are used as drinking vessels.

“They only have water to drink, and thank goodness they're not familiar with the strong drinks made from corn, aloe, and other plants in many American regions, which people there mostly drink to get drunk. When someone from California comes across a pond or pool while wandering and wants to drink, they lie down flat and just drink straight from the water. Sometimes, they even use cattle horns as cups.”

“Having thus far given an account of the different articles used as aliment by the aborigines of the peninsula, I will now proceed to describe in what manner they prepare their victuals. They do not cook, boil, or roast like people in civilized countries, because they are neither acquainted with these methods nor possessed of vessels and utensils to employ for such purposes; and, besides, their patience would be taxed beyond endurance if they had to wait till a piece of meat is well cooked or thoroughly roasted. Their whole process simply consists in burning, singeing, or roasting in an open fire all such victuals as are not eaten in a raw state. Without any formalities, the piece of meat, the fish, bird, snake, field mouse, bat, or whatever it may be is thrown into the flames or on the glowing embers, and left there to smoke and to sweat for about a quarter of an hour; after which the article is withdrawn, in most cases only burned or charred on the outside, but still raw and bloody within. As soon as it has become sufficiently cool, they shake it a little in order to remove the adhering dust or sand, and eat it with great relish. Yet I must add here, that they do not previously take the trouble to skin the mice or disembowel the rats, nor deem it necessary to clean the half-emptied entrails and maws of larger animals, which they have to cut in pieces before they can roast them. Seeds, kernels, grasshoppers, green caterpillars, the white worms already mentioned, and similar things that would be lost, on account of their smallness, in the embers and flames of an open fire, are parched on hot coals, which they constantly throw up and shake in a turtle shell or a kind of frying pan woven out of a certain plant. What they have parched or roasted in this manner is ground to powder between two stones, and eaten in a dry state. Bones are treated in like manner.

“Having given an overview of the various food items used by the native people of the peninsula, I will now explain how they prepare their meals. They don’t cook, boil, or roast like people in modern societies because they are unfamiliar with these methods and lack the pots and tools needed for such tasks. Additionally, their patience would be stretched to the limit if they had to wait for meat to be fully cooked or thoroughly roasted. Their entire process simply involves burning, singeing, or roasting over an open fire all foods that aren’t eaten raw. Without any formalities, the piece of meat, fish, bird, snake, field mouse, bat, or whatever it is gets tossed into the flames or onto the glowing embers, left to smoke and sweat for about fifteen minutes; after that, it’s taken out, usually only charred on the outside but still raw and bloody inside. Once it cools enough, they shake it a bit to remove any dust or sand and eat it with great enjoyment. However, I should note that they don’t bother to skin the mice or gut the rats, nor do they find it necessary to clean the half-empty intestines and stomachs of larger animals, which they chop up before roasting. Seeds, nuts, grasshoppers, green caterpillars, the white worms mentioned earlier, and similar small items that would get lost in the flames of an open fire are toasted on hot coals, which they constantly toss and shake in a turtle shell or a kind of frying pan made from a certain plant. What they’ve toasted or roasted this way is then ground into powder between two stones and eaten dry. Bones are treated in a similar manner.”

“They eat everything unsalted, though they might obtain plenty of salt; but since they cannot dine every day on roast meat and constantly change their quarters, they would find it too cumbersome to carry always a supply of salt with them.

“They eat everything without salt, even though they could easily get plenty of it; but since they can’t have roast meat every day and are always moving around, it would be too inconvenient for them to carry a supply of salt all the time."

“The preparation of the aloë, also called mescale or maguey by the Spaniards, requires more time and labor. The roots, after being properly separated from the plants, are roasted for some hours in a strong fire, and then buried, twelve or twenty together, in the ground, and well covered with hot stones, hot ashes, and earth. In this state they have to remain for twelve or fourteen hours, and when dug out again they are of a fine yellow color, and perfectly tender, making a very palatable dish, which has served me frequently as food when I had nothing else to eat, or as dessert after dinner in lieu of fruit. But they act at first as a purgative on persons who are not accustomed to them, and leave the throat somewhat rough for a few hours afterwards.

“The preparation of the aloe, also known as mescale or maguey by the Spaniards, takes more time and effort. The roots, after being properly removed from the plants, are roasted for several hours over a strong fire, and then buried, twelve or twenty at a time, in the ground, covered with hot stones, hot ashes, and dirt. They need to stay like this for twelve to fourteen hours, and when they are dug out again, they have a beautiful yellow color and are perfectly tender, making a very tasty dish that has often served as my meal when I had nothing else to eat, or as dessert after dinner instead of fruit. However, for those who aren’t used to them, they can initially act as a purgative and leave the throat feeling a bit rough for a few hours afterward.”

“To light a fire the Californians make no use of steel and flint, but obtain it by the friction of two pieces of wood. One of them is cylindrical, and pointed on one end, which fits into a round cavity in the other, and by turning the cylindrical piece with great rapidity between their hands, like a twirling stick, they succeed in igniting the lower piece if they continue the process for a sufficient length of time.

“To start a fire, Californians don’t use steel and flint; instead, they create it by rubbing two pieces of wood together. One piece is cylindrical and pointed on one end, fitting into a round cavity in the other piece. By quickly rotating the cylindrical piece between their hands, like a spinning stick, they can ignite the lower piece if they keep at it long enough.”

“The Californians have no fixed time for any sort of business, and eat, consequently, whenever they have anything, or feel inclined to do so, which is nearly always the case. I never asked one of them whether he was hungry who failed to answer in the affirmative, even if his appearance indicated the contrary. A meal in the middle of the day is the least in use among them, because they all set out early in the morning for their foraging expeditions, and return only in the evening to the place from which they started, if they do not choose some other locality for their night quarters. The day being thus spent in running about and searching for food, they have no time left for preparing a dinner at noon. They start always empty-handed; for if perchance something remains from their evening repasts they certainly eat it during the night in waking moments or on the following morning before leaving. The Californians can endure hunger easier and much longer than other people; whereas they will eat enormously if a chance is given. I often tried to buy a piece of venison from them when the skin had but lately been stripped off the deer, but regularly received the answer that nothing was left; and I knew well enough that the hunter who killed the animal needed no assistance to finish it. Twenty-four pounds of meat in twenty-four hours is not deemed an extraordinary ration for a single person, and to see anything eatable before him is a temptation for a Californian which he cannot resist; and not to make away with it before night would be a victory he is very seldom capable of gaining over himself.”

“The Californians don’t have a set schedule for doing business, so they eat whenever they have food or feel like it, which is almost always. I never asked one of them if they were hungry who didn’t say yes, even if they looked the opposite. They hardly ever have a meal in the middle of the day because they leave early in the morning to go foraging and only come back in the evening, unless they decide to stay somewhere else for the night. Since they spend the day running around looking for food, they don’t have time to prepare lunch at noon. They always head out without food because if there’s anything left from their evening meals, they’ll definitely eat it during the night or the following morning before they leave. Californians can handle hunger much better and longer than most people; however, when they get the chance, they eat a lot. I often tried to buy a piece of venison from them right after they had skinned the deer, but I always got told that nothing was left; and I knew that the hunter who killed it needed no help finishing it off. Eating twenty-four pounds of meat in twenty-four hours isn’t considered unusual for one person, and seeing anything edible in front of them is a temptation they can’t resist; managing not to eat it before nightfall is a challenge they rarely succeed at.”

Clavigero’s account of the food-habits of the California Indians is similar, though generally less explicit. According to him the seeds forming the “second harvest of pitahayas” are extracted carefully while fresh, and are afterward roasted, ground, and preserved in the form of meal against the ensuing winter. Of the reswallowing habit, he says:

Clavigero’s account of the eating habits of the California Indians is similar, but usually less detailed. He explains that the seeds from the “second harvest of pitahayas” are carefully extracted when fresh, then roasted, ground, and stored as meal for the upcoming winter. About the habit of swallowing again, he mentions:

“The savages living in the northern part of the peninsula have found the secret, unknown to mortals in general, to eat and re-eat the same meal repeatedly. They tie a string around a mouthful of meat dried and hardened in the sun. After chewing it for a while they swallow it, leaving the string hanging from the mouth. After two or three minutes, by means of the string they draw the meat up again to be rechewed, and this they repeat as many times as may be necessary until the morsel is consumed or so softened that the string will not hold it any longer. In extracting it from the throat they make such a noise that to one who has not before heard it it appears that they are choking themselves.

"The people living in the northern part of the peninsula have discovered a secret, that most people don’t know, about how to eat and re-eat the same meal over and over. They tie a string around a piece of dried meat. After chewing it for a bit, they swallow it, leaving the string hanging from their mouth. After two or three minutes, they pull the meat back up using the string to chew on it again, and they do this as many times as needed until the piece is finished or so softened that the string can’t hold it anymore. When they pull it out from their throat, they make such a noise that to someone who hasn’t heard it before, it sounds like they are choking."

“When many individuals are gathered together to eat in this manner it is practiced with more ceremony. They seat themselves on the ground, forming a circle of eight or ten persons. One of them takes the mouthful and swallows it, and afterwards draws it up again and passes it to the next one, and this one to another, proceeding thus around the circle with much enjoyment until the morsel is consumed. This has astonished the Spaniards who have seen it, and indeed it would not be credible if it had not been unanimously testified to by all who have been in that country. Several Jesuits who did not believe this, notwithstanding that sincere and prominent persons confirmed it, having afterwards gone to California saw it with their own eyes. Among those Indians who have embraced Christianity this loathsome and dangerous method of eating has been abandoned in consequence of the continual reproofs of the missionaries.” (Historia de la Antigua ó Baja California, obra postuma del Padre Francisco Javier Clavijero; Mexico, 1852, p. 24.)

“When lots of people gather to eat like this, it’s done with more ceremony. They sit on the ground, forming a circle of eight or ten people. One of them takes a mouthful, swallows it, then brings it back up and passes it to the next person, and this continues around the circle with much enjoyment until the morsel is gone. This has amazed the Spaniards who have witnessed it, and it would be hard to believe if it hadn’t been consistently reported by everyone who visited that country. Several Jesuits who didn’t believe this, despite it being confirmed by sincere and notable people, later went to California and saw it with their own eyes. Among those Indians who have adopted Christianity, this disgusting and risky way of eating has been given up because of the constant disapproval from the missionaries.” (Historia de la Antigua ó Baja California, obra postuma del Padre Francisco Javier Clavijero; Mexico, 1852, p. 24.)

The records of Clavigero and Baegert indicate fair correspondence in the food habits of the California Indians and the Seri, though there are certain noteworthy differences, e. g., the tabu of the badger among the former and of the ground-squirrel among the latter; it would also appear that the Californians were the more largely vegetarian and the better advanced in culinary processes. The customs of the Seri throw light on the genesis of “re-eating”, for the process would appear to be but an extension of the repeated mouthing and swallowing of tendonous strings still attached to the bones of larger animals.

The records of Clavigero and Baegert show a fair similarity in the food habits of the California Indians and the Seri, though there are some significant differences, like the taboo on badgers among the former and on ground squirrels among the latter. It also seems that Californians had a more plant-based diet and were more advanced in cooking methods. The customs of the Seri shed light on the idea of “re-eating,” as the process seems to be just an extension of the repeated chewing and swallowing of tendon strings still attached to the bones of larger animals.

284 Cf. Scatologic Rites of all Nations, by Captain John G. Bourke, 1891, especially chapter LI, pp. 459-460. The Seri custom, resting, as it does, on an evident economic basis, tends to explain the scatophagy of the Hopi and other tribes described by Bourke.

284 Cf. Scatologic Rites of all Nations, by Captain John G. Bourke, 1891, especially chapter LI, pp. 459-460. The Seri custom, which clearly has an economic foundation, helps to clarify the scatophagy of the Hopi and other tribes mentioned by Bourke.

285 About 200 turtle-shells were noticed about the rancherias at Punta Tormenta and Rada Ballena alone in 1895, all being less than two years old, as judged from the degree of weathering.

285 In 1895, around 200 turtle shells were found at the rancherias in Punta Tormenta and Rada Ballena, all estimated to be less than two years old based on how worn they were.

286 Hardy, Travels, p. 291.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hardy, Travels, p. 291.

287 Only the finer cording shown in plate XXXI is original, the coarser ropes having been added to facilitate handling.

287 Only the finer cording shown in plate XXXI is original; the coarser ropes were added to make it easier to handle.

288 Publication No. 56, U. S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, plate XV, p. 136.

288 Publication No. 56, U.S. Hydrographic Office, Bureau of Navigation, 1880, plate XV, p. 136.

289 The law of fable in its relation to primitive surgery is formulated in the Sixteenth Ann. Rep. Bur. Am. Eth., 1897, p. 22.

289 The law of fable in its connection to early surgery is outlined in the Sixteenth Ann. Rep. Bur. Am. Eth., 1897, p. 22.

290 Hardy (Travels, p. 298) describes the ceremonial wearing of the heads of deer with horns attached.

290 Hardy (Travels, p. 298) talks about the traditional practice of wearing deer heads with horns.

291 Cf. Hardy, Travels, p. 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Hardy, Travels, p. 290.

292 A rope-twisting device of the sort commonly employed by southwestern Indians was found in use by Seri boys at Costa Rica in 1894, and was included in the Seri collection; but the indications were that the device was a mere toy used, like the horse-hair riatas made by its aid, only in youthful sports.

292 A rope-twisting tool, similar to what is typically used by southwestern Native Americans, was discovered being used by Seri boys in Costa Rica in 1894. It was part of the Seri collection; however, it seemed that this tool was just a toy, utilized—like the horse-hair lassos made with it—only for children's games.

293 In this writing the conclusion reached in an unpublished discussion of the beginning of clothing is assumed—i. e., that the primal apparel was purely protective, and that the habitual concealment of portions of the body incidental to its wearing gradually planted the pudency sense. The germ of clothing, without attendant pudency, is well illustrated in Karl von den Steinen’s observations and discussions of the Brazilian natives (Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens, Berlin, 1894, pp. 190-199). It is noteworthy that the Seri, more primitive as they are in so many respects than any other American aborigines known, are much farther advanced than the Brazilian natives in appareling and its effects on character. The similarities and the differences are alike interesting; yet in both cases the costumes reflect environmental conditions and needs with remarkable fidelity.

293 In this writing, we assume the conclusion reached in an unpublished discussion about the origins of clothing—that the first clothes were purely protective, and that regularly covering parts of the body led to a sense of modesty. The initial idea of clothing, without the aspect of modesty, is clearly shown in Karl von den Steinen’s observations and discussions of the Brazilian natives (Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens, Berlin, 1894, pp. 190-199). It’s interesting to note that the Seri, despite being more primitive in many ways than other known American natives, are actually further along than the Brazilian natives when it comes to clothing and its impact on character. The similarities and differences are both fascinating; in both situations, the clothing accurately reflects the environmental conditions and needs.

294 The failure to discriminate natural objects from artificialized implements produced from such objects by wear of use is a noteworthy trait of primitive folk. It is conspicuous among the acorn Indians of California, who fail to apperceive the manufacture of their own mills and who conceive that their bowlder mortars and creek-pebble pestles, even when completely artificialized by a generation’s use, are merely found and appropriated; and a similar state of mind persists among the well-advanced Papago, who have no conception of making their well-finished mortars and pestles, or even the stone tomahawks occasionally surviving, but regard the implements as fruits of discovery or treasures-trove only.

294 The inability to distinguish natural objects from the tools made from them through use is a notable characteristic of primitive peoples. This is especially evident among the acorn Indians of California, who do not recognize that they created their own mills and believe that their stone mortars and pebble pestles, even after being completely shaped by generations of use, are simply found objects that they have taken. A similar mindset can be seen among the more advanced Papago, who do not understand that they make their finely crafted mortars and pestles or even the stone tomahawks that sometimes remain; they view these tools merely as discoveries or treasures they have stumbled upon.

295 It should be noted that the terms used in the titles of the accompanying plates are not denotive, but merely descriptive.

295 It's important to point out that the terms used in the titles of the accompanying plates aren't definitive; they're simply descriptive.

296 This, like the other illustrations of the series (except plate LVI, which is a lithograph, partly process and partly handwork), are photo-mechanical reproductions made directly from the objects; all are natural size unless otherwise specified.

296 This, like the other illustrations in the series (except plate LVI, which is a lithograph, partly processed and partly handwork), are photo-mechanical reproductions made directly from the objects; all are actual size unless stated otherwise.

297 The most specific reference is that of Hardy: “The men use bows and stone-pointed arrows; but whether they are poisoned, I do not know.” Travels, p. 290.

297 The most specific reference is from Hardy: “The men use bows and stone-tipped arrows; but whether they are poisoned, I’m not sure.” Travels, p. 290.

298 The Development of Form and Function in Implements; an unpublished paper presented before the British Association for the Advancement of Science at the Toronto meeting in 1897. A brief abstract, revised by the author of the paper, was printed in the American Anthropologist, vol. X, 1897, pp. 325-326; and in the absence of full authorial publication, the more strictly germane passages of the abstract are worthy of quotation: “Beginning with the semiarboreal [human] progenitor indicated jointly by projecting forward the lines of biotic development and projecting backward the lines of human development, Mr Cushing undertook to trace hypothetically, yet by constant reference to known facts, (1) the genesis of artificial devices, and (2) the concurrent differentiation of the human brain and body in the directions set forth by Sir William Turner; and he gave special force to his exposition by frequent reference to commonly neglected characteristics, physical and psychic, of young infants. He pointed out that the prototype of man, whether infantile or primitive, is a clumsy ambidexter, the differentiation of hand and brain remaining inchoate; that one of the earliest artificial processes is a sawing movement, in which, however, the object to be severed is moved over the cutting edge or surface, and that the infant or savage at first selects sharp objects (teeth, shells, etc.) as cutting implements, and only after long cultivation learns to make cutting implements of stone; this early stage in development he called prelithic. Passing, then, to the age of stone, he showed that this substance is first in the form of natural pebbles or other pieces for hammering, crushing, bruising, and as a missile. That in time the user learns that the stone is made more effective for severing tissues by fracturing it in such way as to give a sharp edge, the fracture being originally accidental and afterward designed; yet that for a long time it is the hammerstone that is fractured and not the object against which the blows are directed. In this stage of development (called protolithic, after McGee) stone implements come into more or less extended use in connection with implements of shell, tooth, etc.; yet the implements are obtained by choice among natural pieces and by undesigned improvement of these through use. The next stage is that of designed shaping through fracture by blows from a hammerstone, followed by intentional chipping. This may be regarded as the beginning of paleolithic art, and also marks the beginning of dexterity and the activital differentiation of the hands. Incidentally the author brought out the importance of that concept of mysticism which is found of so great potency among infantile and primitive minds, in such manner as to suggest the genesis, and the obscure reasons for the persistence of this phase of intellectuality; for the inchoate imagination is able to expand only in the direction of mystical explanation, so that fertility in primitive invention seems to be dependent on appeal to the mysterious powers of nature. At first the mystery pervades all things, but in time it is largely concentrated in animate things; then animate powers are imputed, e. g., to physical phenomena. So to the infant or race-child fire is a mystical animal or demon which, in prelithic or protolithic times, must have been at first tolerated, then fed with fuel and punished with water and eventually subjugated and tamed, much as the real animals were afterward brought into domestication.”

298 The Development of Form and Function in Tools; an unpublished paper presented before the British Association for the Advancement of Science at the Toronto meeting in 1897. A brief summary, revised by the author of the paper, was published in the American Anthropologist, vol. X, 1897, pp. 325-326; and since a full publication by the author is not available, the more relevant parts of the summary deserve to be quoted: “Starting with the semi-arboreal [human] ancestor indicated by tracing the lines of biological development forward and human development backward, Mr. Cushing set out to hypothetically trace, while consistently referencing known facts, (1) the origin of artificial tools, and (2) the simultaneous evolution of the human brain and body in the ways outlined by Sir William Turner; he emphasized his points by often referencing commonly overlooked physical and mental traits of infants. He noted that the early model of humans, whether infant or primitive, is a clumsy ambidextrous being, with the differentiation of hands and brain still undeveloped; one of the earliest artificial movements is a sawing motion, where the object being cut is moved over the cutting edge or surface, and that initially, the infant or primitive person chooses sharp items (teeth, shells, etc.) as cutting tools, only later learning to create stone cutting tools after extensive practice; he referred to this early development stage as prelithic. Moving on to the Stone Age, he demonstrated that stone is initially used as natural pebbles or other pieces for hammering, crushing, bruising, and as projectiles. Over time, users learn that stones can be made more effective for cutting tissues by fracturing them to create a sharp edge, with the initial fractures being accidental and later intentional; however, for a long time, it is the hammerstone that gets fractured, not the object it strikes. In this development phase (called protolithic, after McGee), stone tools are increasingly used alongside implements made of shell, teeth, etc.; yet these tools are chosen from natural materials and improved through use without deliberate design. The next phase involves purposeful shaping through blows from a hammerstone, followed by intentional chipping. This can be seen as the dawn of paleolithic art, marking the start of dexterity and the functional differentiation of the hands. The author also highlighted the importance of the concept of mysticism, which is very powerful among infants and primitive peoples, suggesting the origin and obscure reasons for the persistence of this form of intellect; as the developing imagination can only expand towards mystical explanations, primitive creativity seems to thrive on appeals to nature's mysterious forces. Initially, mystery surrounds everything, but over time it becomes focused more on living things; then living attributes are ascribed, e.g., to physical events. For the infant or primitive individual, fire becomes a mystical creature or spirit that, in prelithic or protolithic times, must have initially been tolerated, later fed with fuel, controlled with water, and ultimately subdued and tamed, much like how actual animals were domesticated later.”

299 American Anthropologist, vol. IX, 1896, pp. 317-318.

299 American Anthropologist, vol. IX, 1896, pp. 317-318.

300 Annual Report of the Smithsonian Institution for 1898, pp. 42-43. The long extant and well-known classification of stone artifacts as “paleolithic” and “neolithic” may not be overlooked. This classification was based originally on prehistoric relics of Europe, and it served excellent purpose in distinguishing finely finished stone implements from those of rudely chipped stone; but both classes of artifacts were shaped in accordance with preconceived design, and hence both belong to the technolithic class as herein defined. It may be added that the classification was made with little if any reference to primitive thought, was not based on observation among primitive peoples, and has not been found to apply usefully to the aborigines and aboriginal artifacts of America, where the representative tribe or prehistoric village site is characterized by implements of both “paleolithic” and “neolithic” types which intergrade in such manner as to prove contemporaneous manufacture and interchangeable use; while the preponderance of polished-stone implements is generally indicative of simpler rather than of more advanced culture.

300 Annual Report of the Smithsonian Institution for 1898, pp. 42-43. The well-known classification of stone tools as “paleolithic” and “neolithic” cannot be ignored. This classification was originally based on prehistoric remains from Europe and effectively distinguished finely crafted stone tools from those that were roughly chipped. However, both types of artifacts were shaped according to planned designs, and therefore, both fit into the technolithic category as defined here. It’s worth noting that this classification was made with little consideration for primitive thought, was not grounded in observations of primitive peoples, and has not proven useful for understanding the indigenous peoples and artifacts of America. In these cases, representative tribes or prehistoric village sites feature tools from both “paleolithic” and “neolithic” categories that blend together, indicating they were made and used at the same time. Additionally, the higher number of polished stone tools usually suggests a simpler rather than a more advanced culture.

301 Travels, p. 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Travels, p. 290.

302 Cinosternum sonorense (?).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cinosternum sonorense (?)

303 Op. cit., p. 198; cf. ante, p. 78.

303 Op. cit., p. 198; see also earlier, p. 78.

304 Travels, p. 299; cf. ante, p. 87.

304 Travels, p. 299; see also, p. 87.

305 Personal Narrative, p. 465.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Personal Story, p. 465.

306 Op. cit., p. 161.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Op. cit., p. 161.

307 Op. cit., pp. 187, 188.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Op. cit., pp. 187, 188.

308 It should be noted that the actuality of the poisonous property ascribed to the yerba mala is in some degree questionable; the plant is the only one of southern Papagueria yielding suitable material for arrow-shafts, and it is possible (if not probable) that it was consecrated to this purpose by the aboriginal Opata and protected by tabu in such wise as to become a sacred and fearsome thing. It is accordingly by no means improbable that the reputed poisonous property is but the product of generations of association, and that the plant is really harmless—an inference supported by experiments on the part of the leader of the 1895 expedition, who swallowed the juice of stem and leaves in two or three minute but increasing doses without perceptible effect. On the other hand, it should be observed that the region is one abounding in toxic juices, and that this shrub is so luxuriant and so free from thorny armament and other protective devices of a mechanical sort as to raise the presumption that it must be protected against herbivorous animals, at least, by chemical constituents of some kind (cf. ante, p. 35).

308 It's worth noting that the poisonous nature attributed to yerba mala is somewhat questionable. This plant is the only one in southern Papagueria that produces suitable material for arrow-shafts, and it’s likely that it was dedicated to this use by the original Opata people and protected by taboos, thus becoming a sacred and intimidating entity. Therefore, it’s quite possible that the supposed poisonous characteristic is merely a result of generations of association, and the plant is actually harmless—an idea supported by experiments conducted by the leader of the 1895 expedition, who ingested the juice from the stems and leaves in two or three small but increasing doses without any noticeable effects. On the other hand, it should be noted that this region is rich in toxic substances, and this shrub is so vibrant and lacks thorny defenses or other mechanical protection that it suggests it must be safeguarded from herbivorous animals, at least, by some sort of chemical compounds (cf. ante, p. 35).

309 These motives on the part of the Seri were reciprocated by their tribal enemies; a Papago fetish in the form of an Apache arrowpoint, long worn by an aged warrior as a protection from Apache arrows, was among the spoil of the 1894 expedition; and a “poisoned” Seri arrowhead and foreshaft, worn by a superannuated Papago “doctor” as a badge of invulnerability to similar missiles, was cautiously shown to the 1895 expedition, but was held above price by its wearer—and this despite the fact that he had been christianized for decades, and retained no other pagan symbols.

309 These motives from the Seri were matched by their tribal enemies; a Papago charm shaped like an Apache arrowhead, long carried by an old warrior for protection against Apache arrows, was among the loot of the 1894 expedition; and a “poisoned” Seri arrowhead and foreshaft, worn by an elderly Papago “doctor” as a symbol of invulnerability to similar projectiles, was carefully displayed to the 1895 expedition, but its owner refused to sell it—despite the fact that he had been Christian for decades and didn’t keep any other pagan symbols.

310 The imitative still of the Seri was illustrated at Costa Rica some years ago, when the petty accounts for labor, etc., were kept by means of tokens stamped from sheet brass. While a Seri rancheria was maintained near the rancho, the storekeeper detected a number of counterfeits of his tokens, so well executed as to pass readily over the counter in ordinary exchange—and after extended detective work the counterfeiting was traced to the rancheria.

310 The imitation coins used by the Seri were seen in Costa Rica a few years back when small expenses for labor and such were tracked using brass tokens. While there was a Seri settlement close to the ranch, the storekeeper found several counterfeits of his tokens that were so well made they easily passed as real during regular transactions. After some thorough investigation, the counterfeiting was traced back to the settlement.

311 American Anthropologist, vol. XI. August, 1898, pp. 243-249.

311 American Anthropologist, vol. XI. August, 1898, pp. 243-249.

312 The responsivity of mind has been defined elsewhere as the basis of knowledge, and as one of five fundamental principles of science (The Cardinal Principles of Science, Proceedings of the Washington Academy of Sciences, vol. II, 1900, pp. 1-12).

312 The ability to think and respond has been described elsewhere as the foundation of knowledge and as one of the five key principles of science (The Cardinal Principles of Science, Proceedings of the Washington Academy of Sciences, vol. II, 1900, pp. 1-12).

313 A convenient term proposed by Patton.

313 A useful term suggested by Patton.

314 This man was one of those involved in the Robinson butchery on Tiburon island a few months before the picture was taken; and he was one of those executed or transported for the affair during the interval between the 1894 and 1895 expeditions.

314 This guy was one of the people involved in the Robinson slaughter on Tiburon Island a few months before the photo was taken, and he was one of those who were executed or sent away for the incident during the time between the 1894 and 1895 expeditions.

315 The chief object of the 1895 expedition was to pursue the inquiries concerning social organization, totems, etc.; but, as mentioned elsewhere, this object was defeated by the troublous history of the tribe during the earlier part of 1895, and the consequent revival and intensification of their animosity toward aliens.

315 The main goal of the 1895 expedition was to investigate social organization, totems, and similar topics; however, as noted elsewhere, this goal was hindered by the troubled history of the tribe in the early part of 1895, leading to a resurgence and intensification of their hostility toward outsiders.

316 The agency of the women in applying the arrow “poison” was noted by Hardy; cf. p. 258.

316 Hardy observed the women’s ability to use the arrow “poison”; see p. 258.

317 Travels, p. 286.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Travels, p. 286.

318 This identification may possibly be correct; the collocation of the totem with the turtle was shaped through unwilling and perhaps misleading responses made by Mashém to inquiries in 1894—these responses denoting a sea monster which in the beginning helped the Ancient of Pelicans to make the world by pushing from below, and which is now very good food—a description apparently fitting the turtle more closely than the other animal.

318 This identification might be accurate; the connection between the totem and the turtle was influenced by the hesitant and potentially misleading answers provided by Mashém to questions in 1894—these answers referring to a sea monster that initially assisted the Ancient of Pelicans in creating the world by pushing from below, and which is now considered excellent food—a description that seems to match the turtle more closely than the other creature.

319 Perhaps the closest parallel in this respect is that found in the elaborate marriage regulations prevailing among the Australian aborigines, as described by Spencer and Gillen, Walter E. Roth, and other modern observers.

319 Maybe the closest comparison in this regard is seen in the complex marriage rules among Australian aborigines, as noted by Spencer and Gillen, Walter E. Roth, and other contemporary observers.

320 It may be observed that Kolusio, when visited in January, 1896, failed to corroborate the descriptions of Mashém and the matrons; but his failure occasioned little surprise for the reason that he has not lived with his tribe since early boyhood, and is equally uninformed (or uncommunicative) concerning the myths, ceremonies, and even the totems of the tribe.

320 It was noted that Kolusio, when visited in January 1896, did not confirm the accounts given by Mashém and the matrons; however, his inability to do so was not particularly surprising since he hasn't lived with his tribe since he was a young boy, and he is also uninformed (or unwilling to share) about the myths, ceremonies, and even the totems of the tribe.

321 The Beginning of Marriage, American Anthropologist, vol. IX, 1896, pp. 371-383.

321 The Beginning of Marriage, American Anthropologist, vol. IX, 1896, pp. 371-383.

322 Memoirs of Odd Adventures, Strange Deliverances, etc. in the Captivity of John Giles, Esq., Commander of the Garrison on Saint George river, in the District of Maine. Written by Himself. Originally published at Boston, 1736. Printed for William Dodge. Cincinnati: Spiller & Gates, printers, 168 Vine street. 1869.—P. 45.

322 Memoirs of Unusual Adventures, Strange Rescue, etc. during the Capture of John Giles, Esq., Commander of the Fort on Saint George River, in the Maine District. Written by Himself. Originally published in Boston, 1736. Printed for William Dodge. Cincinnati: Spiller & Gates, printers, 168 Vine Street. 1869.—P. 45.

323 The History of Carolina, etc., by John Lawson (1714), reprint of 1860, pp. 302-303. Attention was called to this passage by Mr James Mooney.

323 The History of Carolina, etc., by John Lawson (1714), reprint of 1860, pp. 302-303. This passage was highlighted by Mr. James Mooney.

324 The remarkable race-sense of the tribe, with the conjugal conation in which it seems to root, are discussed ante, pp. 160*-163*. There is nothing to indicate, and much to contraindicate, that the Seri are consciously engaged in stirpiculture; yet their social and fiducial devices would seem to be no less effective in developing race-sense, with its concomitants, than were those of prehistoric men in developing the physical attributes of animal associates, such as the wool-bearing of the sheep, the egg-laying of the fowl, and the milk-giving of the cow; or the still more striking mental attributes, such as the servility of the horse, the fidelity of the dog, and the domesticity of the cat. All these attributes are artificial, though not consciously so to their producers, hardly even to modern users; they are by-products of long-continued breeding and exercise, commonly directed toward collateral ends (as when the horse was bred for speed, the dog for hunting, and the fowl and cat for beauty); and, similarly, the Seri race-sense would seem to be largely a by-product of faith-shaped customs designed primarily to propitiate or invoke mystical potencies—yet the collateral effect is not diminished because overlooked in the primary motive.

324 The impressive race awareness of the tribe, along with the marital bond it appears to stem from, is discussed earlier, on pages 160*-163*. There’s nothing to suggest, and much that goes against, the idea that the Seri are deliberately involved in breeding practices; however, their social and trust-building methods seem just as effective in fostering racial awareness and its associated traits as those of prehistoric people were in enhancing the physical traits of domesticated animals, like the wool production of sheep, the egg-laying of hens, and the milk supply of cows; or the even more notable behavioral traits, such as the submissiveness of horses, the loyalty of dogs, and the sociability of cats. All these traits are artificial, even if their creators aren't fully aware of it, and hardly even modern users; they are side effects of prolonged breeding and training, typically aimed at secondary objectives (like when horses were bred for speed, dogs for hunting, and chickens and cats for appearance); likewise, the Seri's racial awareness seems to be largely an unintended result of customs formed by beliefs aimed primarily at appeasing or calling upon mystical forces—yet the unintended consequence doesn't lose its significance just because it’s overlooked in the main intention.

325 Contributions to North American Ethnology, vol. III, 1877 (Tribes of California, by Stephen Powers), pp. 56, 98.

325 Contributions to North American Ethnology, vol. III, 1877 (Tribes of California, by Stephen Powers), pp. 56, 98.

326 The Native Tribes of Central Australia, 1899, pp. 554-560 and elsewhere.

326 The Native Tribes of Central Australia, 1899, pp. 554-560 and elsewhere.

327 Cf. The Beginning of Marriage, op. cit. The conclusion from the details discussed in this paper is as follows: “Summarizing the tendencies revealed in this history, it would appear that the course of evolution [of conjugal institutions] has been from the simple to the complex, from the definite to the indefinite, from the general to the special, from the fixed to the variable, from the involuntary to the voluntary, from the mechanical to the spontaneous, from the provincial to the cosmopolitan, or, in brief, from the chiefly biotic to the wholly demotic” (p. 283).

327 Cf. The Beginning of Marriage, op. cit. The conclusion from the details discussed in this paper is as follows: “Summarizing the trends observed in this history, it seems that the evolution of marriage institutions has moved from simple to complex, from clear to ambiguous, from general to specific, from fixed to flexible, from involuntary to voluntary, from mechanical to spontaneous, from local to global, or, in short, from primarily biological to completely social” (p. 283).

328 MS in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. A somewhat more obscure version was recorded by Hale in “The Iroquois Book Rites”: “Now, there is another thing we say, we younger brothers. He who has worked for us has gone afar off; and he also will in time take with him all these—the whole body of warriors and also the whole body of women—they will go with him. But it is still harder when the woman shall die, because with her the line is lost. And also the grandchildren and the little ones who are running around—these he will take away; and also those that are creeping on the ground, and also those that are on the cradle-boards; all these he will take away with him.” (Brinton’s Library of Aboriginal American Literature, number ii, 1883, pp. 141-143.)

328 MS in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology. A somewhat more obscure version was recorded by Hale in “The Iroquois Book Rites”: “Now, there’s something else we, the younger brothers, say. The one who has worked for us has gone far away; and in time, he will take with him all these—the entire group of warriors and also all the women—they will go with him. But it’s even harder when the woman dies, because her line is lost. And also the grandchildren and the little ones who are running around—he will take them away; and also those that are crawling on the ground, and those that are in the cradle-boards; all these he will take with him.” (Brinton’s Library of Aboriginal American Literature, number ii, 1883, pp. 141-143.)

329 As an indication of the conditions for observation in Seriland, this cairn is fairly typical: it was seen but once (on December 25, 1895), and the observation was limited to a few minutes by the attendant circumstances. On the evening before the party landed at Campo Navidad, with the hope of working up the coast nearly or quite to Punta Tormenta on the following day; but before morning a downbay gale was whitening the waters of Bahia Kunkaak so fiercely as to prohibit embarkation. Meantime the supply of water—that standard commodity of arid regions—was too nearly exhausted to permit inaction; so while Mr Johnson with three guards ascended the Sierra to establish a new topographic station, the leader of the party with the remaining seven men set out in search of water. The nearest known aguaje was that of Arroyo Carrizal; but under the hypothesis that some of the better-beaten trails turning northward might lead to nearer water, one of them was taken; and after turning back from half a dozen false scents, the principal trail was followed to the well-known Tinaja Anita, 15 miles by the trail from Campo Navidad; and here the party watered. It was on the return trip that the cairn was discovered; but the party were laden with filled canteens and saucepans and coffeepots, the day was well spent, and the camp more than a dozen miles distant even over the air line traversing spall-sprinkled taluses and sharp-edged rocks; moreover, the men were naturally and necessarily heavily armed and on constant guard. Accordingly even the short stay and cursory notes involved an additional mile of darkness on a trail so rough as to cut through shoe-soles and sandals and catch scents of blood to tempt coyotes to the camp site. Thus it was that the cairn was not more critically examined and is not more fully described.

329 As an example of the observation conditions in Seriland, this cairn is quite typical: it was seen only once (on December 25, 1895), and the observation lasted just a few minutes due to the surrounding circumstances. The evening before the group landed at Campo Navidad, they hoped to make their way up the coast, nearly reaching Punta Tormenta the next day; however, by morning, a strong gale was churning the waters of Bahia Kunkaak so violently that they couldn’t set out. Meanwhile, their water supply—an essential resource in dry areas—was nearly depleted, leaving no room for delays. So, while Mr. Johnson and three guards climbed the Sierra to set up a new topographic station, the party leader, along with the remaining seven men, headed out in search of water. The closest known water source was at Arroyo Carrizal; however, believing that some of the more traveled paths heading north might lead to a closer water supply, they chose one of those routes. After backtracking from several false leads, they eventually stuck to the main trail that led to the well-known Tinaja Anita, which was 15 miles by trail from Campo Navidad; here, they gathered water. It was on their way back that they discovered the cairn, but the group was weighed down with full canteens, pots, and coffee makers, the day was nearly over, and they were over a dozen miles from camp, even in a straight line across rocky terrain. Additionally, the men were heavily armed and on high alert. Therefore, even their brief stop and quick notes added another mile of darkness on a path so rough that it wore out shoe soles and sandals and attracted coyotes to their camp with the scent of blood. This is why the cairn wasn’t examined more thoroughly and why there’s less detail about it.

330 “In all stages of development belief runs a close race against cupidity, and is sometimes distanced; so the sages learn that even a buried weapon may be a source of contention, which they thenceforward forestall by breaking or burning it.” (Primitive Trephining in Peru; Sixteenth Ann. Rep., Bureau of American Ethnology, 1897, p. 22.)

330 “Throughout development, belief competes closely with greed and can sometimes fall behind; thus, wise individuals understand that even a hidden weapon can create conflict, which they then proactively resolve by destroying it.” (Primitive Trephining in Peru; Sixteenth Ann. Rep., Bureau of American Ethnology, 1897, p. 22.)

331 Tribes of California, pp. 160-161.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ California Tribes, pp. 160-161.

332 Language and the Study of Language, New York, 1874, pp. 194-195.

332 Language and the Study of Language, New York, 1874, pp. 194-195.

333 This form was not recorded by the collector, but has been formed by analogy by the writer.

333 This form wasn't recorded by the collector but was created by the writer based on analogy.

334 “De este número en adelante los mas incultos se confunden y no saben decir mas que: muchos y muchísimos; pero los que tienen algun ingenio siguen la numeracion diciendo: una mano y uno, una mano y dos, etc. Para espresar diez, dicen: Naganná ignimbal demuejueg, esto es, todas las manos: para quince dicen las manos y un pié, y para veinte las manos y los piés, cuyo número es el término de la aritmética cochimí. Los que han aprendido el español saben nuestro modo de contar.”

334 “From this number onward, the less educated get confused and can only say: many and a lot; but those with some intelligence continue counting, saying: one hand and one, one hand and two, etc. To express ten, they say: Naganná ignimbal demuejueg, which means all the hands: for fifteen, they say hands and one foot, and for twenty, hands and two feet, which is the limit of Cochimi arithmetic. Those who have learned Spanish know our way of counting.”

“From this number onward the most ignorant are confused and are only able to say many and very many; but those who have some ingenuity continue the numeration by saying one hand and one, one hand and two, etc. To express ten they say, naganná ignimbal demuejueg, that is, all the hands; for fifteen they say the hands and a foot, and for twenty the hands and the feet, at which number ends the Cochimi arithmetic. Those who have learned Spanish know our method of counting.” (Clavigero, Historia, etc., p. 22.)

“After this number, the most uneducated get confused and can only say many and very many; but those with a bit of cleverness keep counting by saying one hand and one, one hand and two, and so on. To say ten, they say, naganná ignimbal demuejueg, which means all the hands; for fifteen, they say the hands and a foot, and for twenty, the hands and the feet, which is where Cochimi counting ends. Those who have learned Spanish understand our counting method.” (Clavigero, Historia, etc., p. 22.)

In this citation Padre Clavigero succinctly portrays the cumbersome number series of the Cochimi and other Amerinds of the Californian peninsula. Moreover, the Cochimi terms of Clavijero and those cited from Hervas by Herr Buschmann seemingly suggest a common source of information.

In this citation, Padre Clavigero briefly describes the complicated number system of the Cochimi and other Indigenous people of the Californian peninsula. Additionally, the Cochimi terms from Clavijero and those quoted from Hervas by Herr Buschmann seem to indicate a shared source of information.

Ducrue (in Murr, Journal zur Kunstgeschichte, Nürnberg, 1787, vol. XII, pp. 294) expresses doubt as to the nauwi of the Laymon column, not knowing whether it is Nahuatlan or vernacular to the Laymon language. It certainly has an alien aspect. Of Laymonic number names Ducrue says that the Laymon can count singly to five, and then they repeat themselves.

Ducrue (in Murr, Journal zur Kunstgeschichte, Nürnberg, 1787, vol. XII, pp. 294) questions the nauwi of the Laymon column, unsure if it’s Nahuatlan or part of the Laymon language. It definitely has a foreign look to it. Regarding Laymonic number names, Ducrue mentions that the Laymon can count from one to five individually, but after that, they just repeat.

The following citation may be of interest here:

The following citation might be relevant here:

“The Californians know very little of arithmetic, some of them being unable to count further than six, while others can not number beyond three, insomuch that none of them can say how many fingers he has. They do not possess anything that is worth counting, and hence their indifference. It is all the same to them whether the year has six or twelve months, and the month three or thirty days, for every day is a holiday with them. They care not whether they have one or two or twelve children, or none at all, since twelve cause them no more expense or trouble than one, and the inheritance is not lessened by a plurality of heirs. Any number beyond six they express in their language by much, leaving it to their confessor to make out whether that number amounts to seven, seventy, or seven hundred.”—Jacob Baegert, in Smithsonian Report, 1864, p. 388.

“The Californians know very little about math; some can't count past six, while others can't count beyond three, so none of them can say how many fingers they have. They don’t own anything worth counting, which is why they don’t care. It doesn’t matter to them if the year has six or twelve months, or if the month has three or thirty days, since every day is like a holiday for them. They don't mind if they have one, two, twelve children, or none at all, because twelve doesn’t cost them any more or cause them any more trouble than one does, and having more heirs doesn’t reduce the inheritance. Any number beyond six, they refer to as much, leaving it to their confessor to figure out whether that means seven, seventy, or seven hundred.” —Jacob Baegert, in Smithsonian Report, 1864, p. 388.

335 In Dr Gabb’s alphabet, an underscored c̲h̲ occurs, which, he states, sounds “like soft German ‘ch’ as in ‘ich’”, and also an underscored , which is, he says, “heavily aspirated”. For convenience the character χ has been substituted for both these sounds, except that for the former it is accented thus χ´.

335 In Dr. Gabb's alphabet, there's an underscored c̲h̲, which he says sounds "like the soft German 'ch' in 'ich'," and there's also an underscored , which, according to him, is "heavily aspirated." For simplicity, the character χ has been used for both these sounds, except that for the former it is marked with an accent like this: χ´.

336 This signifies, “let us see”; Dr Loew also writes, iyó-ok, “to see you”.

336 This means, “let's see”; Dr. Loew also writes, iyó-ok, “to see you”.

337 Mr Bartlett wrote schek-aipch, “bird’s egg”, and ahano-hraîk, “a duck”, literally, “water bird”, thus showing that hrek in the term “feather” signifies “bird”. M Pinart wrote shiik-immen, “bird’s nest”, and ipχ´`, “egg “. In both, the spellings here differ somewhat from the terms in the list. In the term for “duck” and “feather”, Mr Bartlett substitutes hr for the sch in his spelling of the name for a “bird”.

337 Mr. Bartlett wrote schek-aipch, meaning “bird’s egg,” and ahano-hraîk, which translates to “a duck,” literally “water bird,” showing that hrek in the word for “feather” means “bird.” M. Pinart wrote shiik-immen, meaning “bird’s nest,” and ipχ´`, for “egg.” In both cases, the spellings here vary slightly from the terms in the list. For the terms “duck” and “feather,” Mr. Bartlett uses hr instead of sch in his spelling for “bird.”

338 In 20 etsiyerre signifies “bird”.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ In 20 etsiyerre means “bird.”

339 From Bartlett’s Kutchan or Yuma Vocabulary, MS.

339 From Bartlett’s Kutchan or Yuma Vocabulary, MS.

340 From Parker’s San Tomas Mission Vocabulary, MS. 1876.

340 From Parker’s San Tomas Mission Vocabulary, MS. 1876.

341 This was rendered, “A white feather worn in the scalp”; in Parker’s San Tomas record tŭschalaiemiss is given for “feather”, but it is literally, “bird’s hair”.

341 This was described as, “A white feather worn in the hair”; in Parker’s San Tomas record tŭschalaiemiss is listed for “feather”, but it literally means, “bird’s hair”.

342 The American Race, p. 335.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The American Race, p. 335.

343 Loc. cit.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source.

Transcriber's Note:

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are the same as in the original.


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