How The Moon Got His Dirty Face – Guiana Long ago a brother and his sister were living by themselves. Every night after dark some one used to come and fondle and caress the sister, attentions which she was very far from being averse to, but she was very curious to discover who her unseen visitor was. She could never find out. She therefore blackened her hands one day with the soot from the bottom of the pepper-pot, and when her lover came that evening, she smeared her hands over his face. When day dawned she thus came learn that it was her own brother who had taken advantage of her. She was extremly angry, abused him roundly, and told the neighbors, who in turn spread the story of his conduct far and wide. The result was that everybody shunned him and he became at last so thoroughly ashamed of himself that he declared he would keep away from everyone, and live by himself. He is now the Moon, and the marks which can still be recognized on his face are those which his sister imprinted with the soot (or blue paint) years ago. Even to this day women do not trust him, and no matter whether he is new, full, or on the wane, there will always be found somewhere a female who is in such a physiological condition as will preclude all possibility of the moon wishing to pay her a visit. A peculiar custom among the Makusis, practised as soon as the new moon is visible, is that of all the men standing before the doors of their huts, and drawing their arms backward and forward in its direction at short intervals: by this means they are strengthened for the chase "As soon as the new moon appears, they all run out of their huts and cry Look at the moon! . . . They take certain leaves, and after rolling them in the shape of a small funnel, they pass some drops of water through it into the eye, while looking at the moon. This is very good for the sight" The first night of the incoming moon was considered the proper occasion for obtaining clay for the manufacture of pots and other utensils which, it was believed, would not speedily be broken. With regard to the explanations given as to the nature of the eclipse of the moon, I have obtained the following at first-hand from the Pomeroon Arawaks. The phenomenon is due to its traveling along the Sun's path, falling asleep, and so not being able to get out of the way quickly enough. With the object of awakening the Moon members of this tribe strike drums, blow shells, and make a big noise generally, whenever the eclipse takes place. They must also keep themselves lively and active, and during the whole night must eat absolutely nothing; were they to break the fast, they would change into whatever animal or plant they might be eating. Indeed, it is a common belief among these people that, at the time of an eclipse, there is a constant change or transformation-scene taking place on Nature's stage, in both animal and vegetable kingdoms, owing to this cause. The transformation is not necessarily sudden but may take time. I can call to mind an old Arawak story of a hunter who had gone to visit one of the streams away back from the Moruca River: On the first occasion he sees a huge land-camudi; on the second, at the time of an eclipse, he finds the snake changed into a tapir; and on the third he sees it swimming in the water as a manati. As to the Orinoco Indian tribes, Gumilla has left us some very interesting records concerning the eclipse of the moon. Some of these nations believed that it was about to die: others that it was angry with them, and that it would give them no more light. The Loláca and Atabáca Indians held to the death theory and were under the conviction that if the Moon were indeed to die, all exposed fires would be extinguished. Their women, crying and yelling—an outburst in which the men joined—accordingly would each seize a glowing ember and hide it, either in the sand or underground. Moved by their tears and entreaties, the Moon however recovers, and the hidden fires are extinguished: but were he indeed to die, the concealed embers would remain alight. The Salivas had different views All the warriors stand up in rows facing the Moon, offering him their prowess and strength and entreating him not to leave them. The young men, of 15 to 20 years of age, stand in two rows apart while certain old men roughly thrash them in turn with whips. Finally, the women, in a sea of tears bewail the Moon's projected departure and fatal absence. The idea would seem to be that the Moon has enemies whom, through fear, he is anxious to avoid, and he is therefore desirous of giving the benefit of his light to other nations. It is only the promises of these Indian warriors to fight in his favor which allay his fears, and hence there is no necessity for him really to take himself off. As soon as the Guayánas recognize an eclipse of the moon, they take up the implements used in cultivating their fields. With much talk and gesticulation, some cut the undergrowth, others clear it, and others again dig up the ground, all of them loudly proclaiming that the Moon has cause for being annoyed, and particularly good reason for forsaking them, considering that they had never made a field for him. They accordingly beg him not to go, because they are now providing him with a field, in which they propose planting maize, cassava, and plantains. With these promises and entreaties they continue at their task, working on it with vigor so long as the eclipse lasts; and as soon as it is over, they return to their houses overjoyed. But there is no more working on the field in the Moon's behalf until the next eclipse takes place! Among the Otomacs , when the event occurs, the husbands aimlessly take up their weapons, skip about, and yell beyond measure, stretch the arrow on the bow in sign of anger, and ask, beg, and implore the Moon not to die. While they continue in their grief, the Moon goes on diminishing and languishing. Recognizing from this that their actions are not understood, they run back to their houses, where they bitterly reproach their wives for not grieving over and bewailing the Moon's sickness. The latter make not the slightest sign that they understand what is expected of them, and answer never a word. The men then change their tactics and start begging and beseeching their wives to cry and weep, so that the Moon may revive and not die. Still the women act as if they do not understand what is besought of them. So the men give them presents—glass-beads, monkey-tooth necklaces, jewelry, and the like. The women now understand in truth, and saying many prayers soon make the Moon shine as bright and clear as before—for doing which they earn their husbands' gratitude. According to their idea it is the female voices that move the Moon to take compassion on them, and save them from extinction. The Uaupes River (Rio Negro) Indians believe that at an eclipse, Jurupari is killing the Moon; they make all the noise they can to frighten him away . So again, the Island Caribs say that Maboya is eating the Moon on such an occasion: they dance all night, and rattle their calabashes with little pebbles inside . Schomburgk points out the curious fact that the Taruma word for a moon eclipse is piwa-toto, the literal translation of which is 'Moon-Earth' . Any reference to comets in the Indian literature is extremely scarce. With regard to the one that was seen by Schomburgk in the early forties, the Arekunas and Makusis regarded it as a sign of pestilence, famine, and disaster. One night they all emerged from their huts . . . men, women, and children extended their arms expressive of supplication and beseeched it to leave the heavens, so that they should not come to grief under its influence . . . the Makusis called it Ca-po-eseima, "Fire-Cloud," or Wae-inopsa, "Sun that throws its rays behind"; the Arekunas gave it the name of Wa-taima, and the Wapisianas Capische, both terms signifying "Spirit of the Stars" . The Pomeroon Arawaks speak of the present year's (1910), Halley's, comet, simply as Wiwa-kihi-koro (lit. "Star-tail-with"), but have no information to furnish concerning it. Among the Island Caribs, Limacani is a comet sent by Coualina, the "boss" of the Chemeens [i. e., Familiar Spirits] to cause evil when he is vexed . In the Makusi legend of Murapa-yeng (lit. Bat Mountain, one of the Pakaraima Range) the phenomenon is ascribed to an old woman carrying a fire-stick under somewhat pathetic circumstances: Schomburgk tells the story. An Inquiry into the Animism and Folk-Lore of the Guiana Indians, Walter E. Roth, from the Thirtieth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1908-1909, pp. 103-386, Washington D.C., 1915, and is now in the public domain.[ British Guiana ][ South America ]