Seven Mohave Myths

In quality the narratives of the Mohave resemble not only those of the other Yuman tribes of the Colorado River, but also, to a considerable extent, those of the Shoshonean Indians of southern California. The typical story of the region is not a relatively rapid narrative of plot, but a detailed elaboration still further expanded by the inclusion of a song series. A myth might be characterized as a web loaded with a heavy embroidery of songs which carry an emotional stimulus of their own, and at the same time endow the plot with a peculiar decorative quality and charge it with a feeling tone which renders of secondary importance the sort of consistency of character, motivation, and action which we expect in a narrative. This is a paraphrase of how I expressed myself in regard to Gabrielino mythology in 1925. It holds probably even more forcibly for the Mohave. Many of their tales seem to appeal to them more in the manner of an ornamental pattern than as a portrayal of a related sequence of events. Essentially all Mohave myths are told in an almost ritualized style. They are not, strictly, rituals; but their telling and singing largely take the place of formal rituals in the culture. The songs which belong to the great majority of narratives can be sung with equal suitability for a dance at a festival or victory celebration; for the mere pleasure of singing; as an expansion of the spoken tale; or as a "gift" of lamentation for a dying or dead relative.
The Mohave validate what happens in their lives by referring it to their dreams. Success in life, the fortunes of a person or of a career, are believed to be the result of what one has dreamed. A Mohave dreams among other things—or perhaps above other things—of the beginnings of the world in the far distant past.
He dreams of being present at the creation and witnessing its events. Thereby he participates in them and gets certain knowledges: powers for war, for curing, for success in love or gambling. Such mystically dreamed powers are what really count in human life, the Mohave firmly believed. Over most of native North America the acquisition of power by dreams or visions of spirits is the basis of shamanism; and where religion is simple, it is largely constituted of shamanism. The Yuman tribes, however, have evolved the special belief that the visions are not of the spirits of now, but of the spirits and great gods of the beginning of the world. This group of tribes in their philosophy transcend time and project their souls back to the origin of things. This act they call dreaming. The basic and most significant dreams are not those of last night or of one's adolescence, but those which one had before birth—while still in the mother's belly, they say. It is these prenatal dreams which the newly born baby and the child may forget, but which come back to the growing boy and to the man when he hears others singing or telling similar experiences. As they see it, the tribal mythology is thus first learned by personal participation in it as an unborn soul. Secondarily, it is strengthened, clarified, and perhaps adjusted by what one learns from others. Some old Mohave of my acquaintance admitted that they "also heard" or learned their special lore, usually from blood kinsmen, in addition to dreaming it; but all denied having been "taught." The distinction may seem verbal to us, but I am sure that it is not verbal to them.