The term “Apache” was first used in the last decade of the sixteenth century. Since then it has been applied to Athapaskan-speaking peoples occupying areas now parts of Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, and Utah, and the Mexican states of Sonora, Chihuahua, and Coahuila. In Spanish times the term “Apache” was occasionally used for adjacent non-Athapaskan Indians, merely because they followed the Apache example of marauding the Spanish colonies. The Southern Athapaskans termed “Apache” may be divided into six tribes or divisions, according to territorial, cultural, and linguistic distinctions which they themselves recognized. These divisions are Jicarilla Apache, Lipan Apache, Kiowa-Apache, Mescalero Apache, Chiricahua Apache, and Western Apache, Although the Navaho are always mentioned as a separate entity, actually it would be more consistent to class them as Apache, as the Spanish formerly did. The sharp difference drawn between them and the Apache is little deserved, for together the two peoples formed a kindred series of cultures. Linguistically, the Southern Athapaskans divide into an eastern and a western group: the eastern one, composed of Jicarilla, Lipan, and Kiowa-Apache; the western one, of Navaho, Chiricahua, Mescalero, and Western Apache.1
Lack of exact information on these divisions, and on their groups and bands, has caused much confusion and the overlapping usage of names for them. Out of the many European terms (mainly of Spanish origin) which have been used for them in the past, the least confusing and most applicable should be formed into a clear and permanent classification for the future. There has been more confusion of group and band names in the Western Apache division than elsewhere. The following classification for the Western Apache was used in a former article,2 but the reasons for the choice of terms were not explained. These are discussed below.
WESTERN APACHE GROUPS AND BANDS
(See Map I)
1.White Mountain group, divided into two bands:
a)Eastern White Mountain
b)Western White Mountain
2.Cibecue group, divided into three bands:
3.San Carlos group, divided into four bands:
c)San Carlos proper
4.Southern Tonto group, divided into one band and six semibands:
c) Second semiband
e) Fourth semiband
5.Northern Tonto group, divided into four bands:
Many of the terms applied to the Western Apache in the past are misleading.3 “Pinaleñe” has been used for peoples in the San Carlos group but was customarily applied to White Mountain Apache living about the Graham Mountains. “Coyotero” once designated all peoples of the Western Apache division and, at times, was probably used unwittingly for people of the Chiricahua division. During the last quarter of the nineteenth century it was applied particularly to those of the White Mountain group who lived south of the Black River. At present it is used for White Mountain Apache residing on the San Carlos Reservation. In some sources the name is said to have been applied because the people ate coyotes. This is a Western Apache custom, except among the White Mountain group.
The term “White Mountain Apache” or “Sierras Blancas” appears as early as 1748 for those Apache living in the region of the White Mountains in Arizona,4 but probably it included other Apache close by. This name is regional and particularly applicable to the White Mountain group within whose territory the White Mountains lay. Apache of the Mescalero division who lived about the White Mountains of New Mexico have been mentioned occasionally as “White Mountain Apache,” but the term has never become established for them. Heretofore, the Cibecue group has generally been classed with the White Mountain group, to which they do not belong. They have also, in part, been variously termed “the Apache living on the Carrizo,” and they bear no one name as a distinct group. As the above three names are descriptive of the region in which the three Cibecue bands lived, it is best to retain them.
The term “San Carlos” was not applied to one distinct band or group until Dr. Goddard did so. Previously, it was used more as a reservation term, but because Goddard has already so designated Apache of the Pinal, Arivaipa, San Carlos, and Apache Peaks bands, as compared to Tonto Apache and White Mountain Apache, it is retained here as a name for the group to which these four bands belong.5 Being also descriptive of the region in which the members of the San Carlos band originally lived, it is likewise kept for them. Although “Pinal” has been used for the Pinal, San Carlos, and Apache Peaks bands, it would seem better to limit it to the members of the Pinal band whose territory included the Pinal Mountains. There has been little, if any, confusion in the use of the term “Arivaipa”; and it can be readily applied to the Arivaipa band, through whose territory ran the
Groups are encircled by solid black lines, and boundaries of bands and semibands within groups are shown by broken lines. The black dotted line on the western side of the Southern Tonto group shows the approximate location of the peoples of clans 28 and 31 who became largely absorbed by the Yavapai.
1.Eastern White Mountain band
2.Western White Mountain band
5.Canyon Creek band
8.San Carlos band
9.Apache Peaks band
11.First semiband, Southern Tonto
12.Second semiband, Southern Tonto
13.Third semiband, Southern Tonto
14.Fourth semiband, Southern Tonto
15.Fifth semiband, Southern Tonto
16.Sixth semiband, Southern Tonto
17.Mormon Lake band
18.Fossil Creek band
19.Bald Mountain band
20.Oak Creek band
Arivaipa River. No European name has yet been coined for the remaining band of the San Carlos group. I have used the term “Apache Peaks band,” this being geographically descriptive of the area in which they lived.
Like the term “Coyotero,” “Tonto” has been used collectively for all Western Apache, and at times even for Yavapai, but in the last sixty years or so has almost exclusively been applied to the Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto groups. Because there are no other suitable European names for these groups, “Tonto” is retained. However, it must be understood that its use for both these groups does not imply that they are more closely akin than either of them are to the other Western Apache. An interesting side light on the possible derivation of the term “Tonto” (Spanish: “fools”) is that the Chiricahua applied the name bìnì·’édìné (“people without minds”)—in other words, “crazy” or “foolish people”—to all Western Apache. It is quite possible that the Spanish knew the meaning of this Chiricahua word and shaped their own after it. Escudero, in his Noticias estadisticas de Chihuahua, published in Mexico in 1834, gives the names of the various Apache tribes in Apache together with their Spanish equivalents. He records “Viniettinen-ne” as the Apache (Chiricahua division) name for the Tonto (Western Apache).
The Western Apache are divided into a series of territorial units of differing size and organization. They are here called “groups,” “bands,” and “local groups”—divisions which are rather difficult to fit into the conventional categories. In addition, there is a formal organization of the society into matrilineal clans which are linked together in an interesting way. The term “group” is used in preference to “tribe” in order to avoid confusing conditions among the Western Apache with those in other Southern Athapaskan divisions. Whereas other divisions can be called “tribes” in the sense that they formed a fairly unified people both politically and culturally, “tribe” is not altogether applicable to the Western Apache. Nor were the Western Apache groups synonomous with those units among other Southern Athapaskans termed “bands.”
The bands of the Chiricahua division seem most nearly akin to the Western Apache group, with this difference: the Chiricahua band had local groups within it, each going under a regional name of its own, whereas the Western Apache group contained loosely bound units or bands usually bearing distinctive names, which in turn were divided into local groups. The latter, although sometimes referred to by their locality, actually did not have names as the local groups of the Chiricahua apparently did. The Western Apache practiced some agriculture, and the Chiricahua relied almost entirely on hunting and wild plant foods.6 This probably accounts for the above-mentioned differences and seems evidenced in the large area inhabited by a single Chiricahua band, as compared to the relatively small territory of the average Western Apache group. In character the Western Apache group seems halfway between the Chiricahua band and the Chiricahua division, whereas the Western Apache band, in comparison to the Chiricahua band, lies between it and the Chiricahua local group. Of the Western Apache groups, the Southern Tonto and the Northern Tonto most closely approximate the Chiricahua bands. The groups composing the Western Apache seem to have felt greater distinctions between themselves than did bands within any other Southern Athapaskan division—distinctions in dialect and in religious and social practices which should be kept in mind when comparing them with the other Southern Athapaskan peoples.
A man might reside for the greater part of his life within the territory of a group not his own, but he could never change his group identity, and his neighbors would always look upon him as an outsider. Each group went under a name, and thus any individual was readily classified. People of the same group felt a cultural and linguistic bond which separated them from the members of neighboring groups. This feeling of unity often showed itself in local pride, and at times members of one group looked down upon those of another with contempt and mistrust. Willy Lupe’s (Canyon Creek band, Cibecue group) attitude is typical when he says: “The people living here on the Cibecue, over at Canyon Creek, and to the east on the Carrizo are all like one people. It is just as if we were Americans and the rest of these Apaches around us were foreigners.” An elderly man of the Cibecue band who had married among the White Mountain Apache once said that, although he had lived among the latter people for forty years, they still considered him an outsider.
Actually, linguistic differences between groups were slight. They probably amounted to no more than the dialectic variations of northerners and southerners among ourselves. There are some differences, particularly in names of plants, animals, and utensils. Even today it is not uncommon to hear two Apache of different groups ridiculing each other’s speech, each insisting his own is correct. Husbands and wives from different groups sometimes do likewise, though they may have been married for many years.
The same general culture underlies all Western Apache groups, yet slight distinctions between groups are regarded as important. The following is fairly typical of the Apache attitude to such differences:
Long, long ago, our people were one of many living on this earth. In Charge of Life gave us [White Mountain Apache] our language and culture before all the other people. That is why we have everything there is. He gave this also to the other people and to the dìj·’ é‘ [referring to their speech, which sounds nasal]7 as well, but to these last he did not give all—only about half of what we received from him. That is the reason that their voices are small and that they eat all kinds of things—hawks, coyotes, lizards—that we cannot eat because we would get sick if we did. They don’t have the sicknesses caused by such animals that we do.
The clans represented in each group vary considerably. Ritual and the words to corresponding ceremonial songs are said to be unlike in many cases. Again, in the old days there was some variation in mode of dress, and the Apache claim to be able to tell the group of a man or woman by merely scanning their features and mannerisms. When shown early photographs of Western Apache, they could not always identify individuals but almost invariably and quite correctly could tell to what group they belonged by nothing more than an indefinable tilt of the headband.
In 1875 all the White Mountain Apache were forced to the Gila River. Later, they were permitted to return to their old homes in the Fort Apache area. Those not at Bylas chose to remain where they were. They are the same people as those living in the vicinity of Fort Apache today; and, in fact, many came from the Fort Apache area and have brothers and sisters living on White River. At present, however, the Bylas people claim to be able to ascertain whether a White Mountain Apache comes from Bylas or the Fort Apache area merely by hearing his voice or seeing the way he rides and is dressed.
Groups had recognized territorial limits, and any intrusion into the land of another group was only temporary. Rivers and mountains or hills dividing valleys where water ran were boundaries. Farming sites belonged wholly to the group within whose territory they lay and were almost never shared by people of separate groups.
In spite of the distinctions mentioned, the majority of Western Apache generally felt themselves to be one people with fairly common interests. In comparison, Navaho and Chiricahua were considered to be quite apart. Hostilities in the form of organized warfare and raids probably never occurred between Western Apache groups in prereservation times, although they did with the Chiricahua and Navaho. Scalping enemies who were killed in the occasional blood and clan feuds which sprang up between families of different groups was unthinkable because “they were really one people.” But, when a slain Navaho, Mexican, or American was scalped, it was different, and even a Chiricahua might meet the same fate, although here the feeling of closer relationship made the practice unlikely.
Groups were divided into bands, each of which had its own territory. Farming sites were shared only by people belonging to different bands of the same group when located on, or very near, the border between two bands. The two bands of the White Mountain group had no strong feeling against trespass, except on farming sites, where encroachments of outsiders might meet some resistance. However, the resistance would not be band-wide but only within the local groups and the clans affiliated with the site. The strong feeling about such encroachments is an indication of how the farming site was considered to be more or less a permanent fixture, and the closest approach to a home place in Western Apache culture. Wild-food-gathering trips or hunting in territory of another band belonging to the same group were not considered trespassing, but these did not occur often, as the bands stayed almost always within their own limits. In war and raids members of bands in the same group frequently combined at each others’ invitation.
An individual born a member of a band was always known as such, regardless of his residence. Only three affiliations were closer in the Apache mind than that of band: these were clan, blood, and affinal relationship. Members of bands within the same group naturally visited back and forth frequently. Intermarriage was common, and clan and blood ties were numerous.
The group was not a political unit. The only way it might function as such was in the co-ordinated action of the various local groups that made up its bands. In these local groups was concentrated what government the Western Apache had. Each possessed its own chief who was theoretically of equal importance to any other chief. The nearest approach to actual band or group control by an individual or individuals is that found in the case of certain chiefs who, merely through character, exerted wide-felt pressure on the people of their band or group. Such a chief was hàcké·łdàsìlà· (“angry, right side up”), also called Diablo, of the White Mountain people on the East Fork of White River, widely known not only in his own group but among those Apache living adjacent to it. In 1864, when Fort Goodwin was established in the Gila Valley, this chief was the principal representative for the White Mountain Apache in a council held with army officers which established a peace between them and the Americans. Again, in 1867, he gave the Americans permission to construct a road from Fort Goodwin to White River and erect another military post, Fort Apache. He is credited unanimously by the Apache of his group as being the greatest White Mountain chief of his time.
Another similar man was tc’à’łìbà·hń (“brown hat”), whose home was in the Mazatzal Mountains among the Southern Tonto group. When the Southern Tonto finally decided to surrender to General Crook in 1872, they selected him to represent them at a council with the Americans at Camp Verde, and it was he who negotiated for the peace. Such chiefs had no legitimate control or representative powers over other chiefs and their local groups, who could have justifiably remained on hostile terms with the Americans. The only criticism an Apache might make of these chiefs would be on their lack of wisdom in remaining hostile.
Again, when the Arivaipa Apache were treating with the American troops all through the occupation of Camp Grant on the San Pedro (1859–73), the two most influential chiefs of the Pinal and Arivaipa were Santos and hakí·bánzí (“angry, men stand in line for him”), the former a true Arivaipa, the latter a Pinal married among the Arivaipa. An Arivaipa, on being asked who his chiefs were during those years, will often mention these two. Although there might have been at least a dozen chiefs among the Arivaipa at the time, these two men stand out. It was they who were relied upon to treat with the Americans.
Thus, neither group nor band was a complete political unit. They were only units in the sense of territorial limitations and cultural and linguistic similarities. Classificatory but not functional, they never moved as a whole in economic life, society, warfare, or religion. Such unit participation was reserved to the family, local group, and clan.
The Western Apache have no one name which designates their entire division. In White Mountain Apache the nearest term expressive of a division is łé·dàgùdǹłt’í’ (“joined together”). This may be used of several groups who are friendly with one another and who combine in times of war or in other difficulties. It could be applied to the White Mountain, San Carlos, and Cibecue as a whole because of the friendliness between them, but it would not include the Chiricahua, and probably not Southern Tonto or Northern Tonto. The same term could be used for a group itself to express the alliance of the bands within it. Another term denoting a group is dàłá·’ánbì·yát’i’ (“their speech is one”), expressing the likeness of dialect and the corresponding relationship which it would imply. An individual wishing to tell someone to which band he belonged says, for instance, “I am On Top of Mountains People,” giving the name of his band.
The White Mountain group.—The Eastern White Mountain Apache were the easternmost and one of the largest and most powerful bands of the Western Apache. They were known by all other Western Apache as dzìłγ’á (“on top of mountains people”), and they themselves used that name when speaking of their own people. Occasionally, those people on Turkey Creek, Corn Creek, and Bonito Creek are mentioned as bìγ·gùlkìjn (“spotted on top people”) in reference to the upland, grassy country spotted in places with many juniper trees, where their farms were located. A nickname used for themselves in fun by the Eastern White Mountain people is dzìlγa’ áłbà·yéʿ. They occupied that country mainly on the west slope of the White Mountains, Blue Range, and Morenci Mountains, south across the Gila River to the Graham Mountains, and as far as the Winchester Mountains. Their principal farm sites were located on the East Fork of White River; head of Bonito Creek; head of Turkey Creek; at a place near the head of Black River; on Eagle Creek at the present site of the Double Circle Ranch; at Point of Pine west of Eagle Creek; on the head of Cienega Creek running into Eagle Creek, with minor sites at several other places. According to tradition, the Eastern White Mountain farms north of Black River were occupied before those to the south.
Hunting and food-gathering trips for juniper berries and piñons extended to the north, almost as far as Vernon and Bannon, but the people never stayed there long, as it was dangerously close to the country of the hostile Navaho. They went as far east as the present site of Springerville and on the eastern slope of the White Mountains in search of elk and other game. They also traveled along the top of the Blue Range but not east of it because of the Navaho. Farther southeast they occasionally ranged as far as the San Francisco River in New Mexico on hunting trips or to visit with the Eastern Chiricahua.
South of the Gila River they camped about the Graham Mountains, and even as far as the Winchester Mountains, the southern slopes of the Grahams being a favorite place to gather and prepare mescal in springtime. It was here also that they made hidden camps from which raiding parties could be sent to Mexico, not very far south, to bring back horses, cattle, and other booty. Turnbull Mountain was also used for mescal and as a base for raiding parties. Favorite wintering places were sheltered spots near springs along the foot of the Natanes Rim on Ash Flat, as the face of the rim had a continuous southern exposure.
The first contact of the Eastern White Mountain band with the United States government may have been in 1852, when Calhoun, who was then Indian agent at Santa Fe, mentions a treaty made with the Gila Apache near Acoma that year. In the same decade a man came to visit the chief, Diablo, then living on East Fork of White River. The Apache claim that this emissary was a Mexican who lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, but who visited them occasionally from the Fort Defiance region in Arizona. He was an officer, possibly one of James Calhoun’s envoys. They called him nànt’anbísdùhń (“Chief Bisduhn,” apparently a corrupted Spanish or English name). On one of his visits he told Diablo to take his people down to Apache Pass at the north end of the Chiracahua Mountains, as an American officer would issue rations there. Some of the people, on arriving at Apache Pass, found the officer with soldiers and freighting-wagons full of supplies. This must have been approximately 1861, as they say Fort Bowie (established in 1862) was not there then. The officer issued red cloth, brass kettles, and food. He told them he intended to move to the Gila River with his soldiers. Later, he reached the foot of Graham Mountain, and about a year after that (1864) the post of Fort Goodwin was established.
A large council was held here with people of several Apache bands, the Eastern White Mountain predominating. A peace was established, and the commanding officer told the Apache that the region about this post was to be their reservation. Here, for two years or so, the Eastern White Mountain, the Western White Mountain, and the San Carlos band were on friendly terms with the soldiers, often camping near them and receiving rations. At the same time they were continuing their raids into Mexico, which they claim that the military did not try to discourage. Finally, some trouble arose with the troops, and the Apache fled to their mountains. Later, another peace was made, and in 1867 and 1868, with the permission of Chief Diablo, the troops built a road to the site of Fort Apache. After the establishment of Fort Apache in 1869 the Eastern White Mountain band drew rations there, and shortly the raids to Mexico ceased.
An incident mentioned several times by Anna Price (Eastern White Mountain band), and known to other White Mountain Apache as well, is the Goodwin Springs poisoning. Anna Price claimed that Americans (whether United States troops or civilians is uncertain), while camped at Goodwin Springs sometime prior to the establishment of Fort Apache, sent out word among adjacent Western Apache that they would give away food at an appointed time to all those who came in for it. Having received rations from United States officers already and not suspecting treachery, many White Mountain Apache and some members of the San Carlos band assembled at Goodwin Springs, where a quantity of dried meat was distributed among them. This meat was apparently poisoned, for it is said that scores died on the way home and that the trail was white with bodies (white cotton clothing was then in use). Many of the victims were subchiefs. Diablo was forewarned by his friend from Sante Fe, nànt’ánbísdùhń, not to go to Goodwin Springs this time, as the whites there were planning to issue “bad food,” and so he was able to safeguard his local group. A song, still sung at social dances, was made up to commemorate the tragedy of the poisoning. This incident is not to be confused with the infamous “Pinole Treaty” or similar treacheries among the Chiricahua Apache around the copper mines in New Mexico.
In 1875 all the Apache bands were moved to the Gila River, owing to government policy of concentration. The Eastern White Mountain people were included. They chose to settle at a place on the north bank of the Gila, opposite and a little above Dewey Flats, and they lived there for several years. By 1880 most of them were permitted to return to their old homes around Fort Apache. In 1886 only a small part of them remained on the Gila. These chose not to go back to Fort Apache. Their land washed away at the first settlement, and they moved farther up the Gila River on the north side, a little above the present railroad station of Calva. In 1911 and 1912 their land again washed out, and they moved to the present site of Bylas, where they are now living with remnants of other bands. The Eastern White Mountain who chose to return to the Fort Apache region are all to be found in that locality, living on the same land that they occupied in prereservation times. At present, members of the Eastern White Mountain band, both around Fort Apache and at Bylas, still term themselves as before, retaining the distinction between them and the other bands.
The Western White Mountain band was called ł·nbà·há (“many go to war”). Two explanations of this name exist, the first being: “Long ago the people who were living over on Cedar Creek [in the present territory of this band] used to go south to Mexico to raid for cattle, horses, and other things. When they went on a raid, it was always in a large party with many warriors, so they were called ‘Many Go to War.’” ł·nàbà·há, the second and less accurate version, means “they go to raid for horses.” They used both terms among themselves, and the names were also applied by all other bands of the Western Apache, except possibly the Northern Tonto.
These people were located mainly on Cedar Creek and eastward to White River, below East and North forks. Their principal farming sites were on Cedar Creek, at Canyon Day, and at Bear Springs. They ranged northward in the fall toward the present region of Snowflake to hunt game and gather juniper berries or piñon nuts, though fear of Navaho kept them from frequenting that country. Southward, they extended across White River and Black River and along the foot of Natanes Rim, a favorite winter location, where there was an abundance of Emory’s oak, making it the best part of this territory for gathering acorns. Mescal, also fairly plentiful and a most valuable food plant, brought them here in springtime. For their main supply of mescal the Western White Mountain Apache crossed south of the Gila River, where it grew thickly on the slopes of Turnbull Mountain. They confined themselves mostly to their own western half of the mountain. South of Turnbull Mountain they ranged into the Santa Teresa and Cobre Grande Mountains, in wintertime favorite points of departure for Mexican raids. Occasionally, some of the band crossed the Arivaipa Valley to the southern end of the Galliuro Mountains, where they camped for short periods. Even though this was encroaching on Arivaipa territory, the relations were friendly.
The San Carlos River, immediately north of the Gila River, they claimed as their western boundary. A White Mountain Apache states: “My grandfather told me, ‘If any people crossed over the San Carlos River from the other side and came too far eastward, it was up to us to put them out, because the land belonged to us and not to them.’” Their western boundary at this point was not on the San Carlos River but a little east of it. The bands within the groups had little of this feeling, as they often shared one another’s camp grounds for short periods.
The settlement of people living and farming from the junction of the east and north forks of White River to Canyon Day, three or four miles downstream, were nominally classed with the Western White Mountain band, the Eastern White Mountain band acceding to this. Some of these people living on the border between, and coming from both bands, did not claim membership in either and so called themselves ǹdé·’íłt’ànánì·gé, signifying “all mixed together,” which they considered to be almost a band name. They were unified as a settlement, and in 1875, when moved to the Gila River by the government, they chose a separate site at the foot of Navaho Bill Point and near the present location of Bylas. At present, the members of these ǹdé·’íłt’ànánì·gé on White River are generally referred to by the Apache of the region as łá·nàbà·há, although they still are occasionally mentioned under the old term. Not distinct enough, however, to be called a band, they serve as an example of the way in which a new one might form.
The history of the Western White Mountain band in connection with the Americans is closely allied to that of the Eastern White Mountain band, except that some of the former visited old Camp Grant on the San Pedro to draw government rations. In 1875, when removed to the Gila River, they chose the site of Dewey Flats, all living there until 1880, when they started returning to their old homes on Cedar Creek. More and more of them drifted back until only a few were left. Later, their farms on the Gila were washed away, and some of them moved upstream to the subagency, the present Calva. From there they moved to Bylas, where they are now living with the Eastern White Mountain people under the jurisdiction of the San Carlos Agency. The majority of them today are at Cedar Creek and Canyon Day on the Fort Apache Reservation. All members of the band still call themselves by the old band name.
Of these two bands, the Eastern White Mountain is, and apparently always has been, the larger. An Apache will quite often speak of the dzìłγ’á and, by this, mean to include both the White Mountain bands. Others outside the White Mountain band almost always refer to the Eastern band as dzìlγ’á. Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto occasionally speak of this eastern group as yà·’áidndè. (“east people”) because of their residence far to the east of them. They called the Chiricahua by the same term also.
The Cibecue group.—The Carrizo were a small band living on Carrizo Creek above the present crossing of the Cibecue road. Their farms began six miles or so up and were scattered along the creek bottom for some four miles. The Apache name of this valley is t’łùà·dìgàibìkòh (“canyon of the row of white canes”) because of the abundance of canes once growing along the creek.8 Another term, tłùà·dìgàikòhndé, definitely signifies the band and not the clan. The Southern and the Northern Tonto were originally too remote to have knowledge of this band name, though some of them now know it through reservation contacts. However, they formerly knew the clan and its location on the Carrizo. The people of this band have maintained their identity to the present day.
Much of the year was spent at their farms. They ranged south to the Black River Canyon, where there was some mescal; westward to Cibecue Mountain, which bounded their territory; northward up over the Mogollon Rim, hunting in that high-timbered country; beyond there to the region of Showlow, and toward Snowflake for juniper berries and piñons, but not farther because of the Navaho. Eastward, they were bordered by the Western White Mountain band, the line running roughly along the divide between Carrizo Creek and Cedar Creek. The lower part of the Carrizo Creek, near Black River, was shared with the Western White Mountain Band, though not always amicably. The canyon of the Carrizo affords a sheltered place in winter with southern exposures, its walls deep enough to guard from heavy winds, and a delightful spot in summer, with its heavy shade of cottonwood groves and, farther above, the thick growth of alders.
Because of a clan dispute, probably in 1845–55, between two of the four clans on the Carrizo—clans 57 and 469—the latter was forced to make permanent new settlements and farms elsewhere. One of these, with permission of Diablo, was on North Fork of White River at an unoccupied part of the river bottom about eight miles above the present town of White River. The other was on the head of the Forestdale Creek. The first settlement was on White Mountain lands, and the parts which several chiefs played in the negotiations illustrate the attitude toward a band’s settling permanently in another’s territory. The following story was told by Anna Price:
One time when I was a little girl, the tcá·tcì·dn [clan], who were then almost all living at Carrizo, where their farms were and where they really belonged, got into trouble with the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ [clan] and killed some of them. Because of this, the tcá·tcì·dn all ran off, crossing over east toward our farms on White River. My father [Diablo] and the other men were off hunting at the time. I was down in the field irrigating corn and carrying my mother’s baby on my back. I saw the tcá·tcì·dn pass by our farm on their way. After they had been gone some time, the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ came on their trail, close, so I could see them. There were thirty-eight of them, all relatives of the ones the tcá·tcì·dn had killed. ḿbà’ ‘á‘ (“coyote”), my relative, told our people not to shoot at them [the t’łùà·dìgàidǹ] and not to run away because they were not tcá·tcì.dn. The t’łùà·dìgàidǹ were prepared for war. They wore little gee strings and no other clothes but their moccasins. Their hair was tied up on top of their heads, and they had painted themselves with black paint. They all had bows and arrows with them. Near by they shot and killed a horse that belonged to me. One old bìszá·hé man got scared and ran off up the hill. They shot him in the hand just as he turned back and shaded his eyes to look at them.
The same day, the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ left our place and followed the tcá·tcì·dn up over the bluff and south back of our camp. Just after they went out of sight over the top of the rim, some of our people saw three of them coming back down the hill, but they did not reach the bottom. They disappeared and never were seen again. This was an ill omen; the men had not come back down the hill at all. Later, these three were killed in the fight, and this was the reason for the apparition.
The thirty-eight t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ followed the tcá·tcì·dn south and finally found them camped at ‘ígaìyébíłtc’ì’gògaì (“white flat running toward yuccas”) right where the trails come together. They surrounded the place without the tcá·tcì·dn knowing it and waited. The tcá·tcì·dn had been cooking some mescal in a small pit a short distance from the camp. Near this the pursuers hid. After a while some people came from the tcá·tcì·dn camp and looked at the mescal and then went back again. Then some women came to the pit. ḿbà’ ‘ká‘, with the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ, told his relatives not to shoot them, that he wanted to capture them; after that they could shoot them. With the women were four tcá·tcì·dn men, helping to dig the mescal out. They surrounded them and shot. The tcá·tcì·dn had their arms but never used them. Right there about nine tcá.tcì.dn got killed. The others in the camp came to see what was going on. They had some guns. When they saw what had happened, they started to fight on both sides. The battle kept up all day. Three of the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ were killed. About seven more tcá·tcì·dn were slain. The tcá·tcì·dn fled south, taking their wounded across the Gila River to Turnbull Mountain, where their shamans tried to cure them. After they had stayed quite some time south of the Gila River, they came up near White River, but the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ attacked them again, killing some more.
Two years or so after the tcá·tcì·dn first left Carrizo, they came to my father’s place on East Fork, because he was the biggest chief there and in charge of almost everything. They said to him: “We have been like this for two years. We want you to give us some land on North Fork at tsét’é‘’á· (“rock jutting to the water”) so we can settle and farm. We want you to tell the t’łùà·dìgaìdǹ chief, hàcké·’ìbà’ (“angry, he goes to war”), to stop his people from killing us any more.” This is the way the tcá·tcì·dn chief talked to father. He was called hàcké·yànìltł’ì·dn (“angry, he shakes something”).
Father said, “All right, I will try and talk to hàcké·’ìbà’ about it.” He went to see him and talked over all these troubles. He told him: “I want you two not to fight from now on. There are lots of little hills here, but they will be made level. It is all good now. I’m going to give the tcá·tcì·dn land to settle on over in our country.” So it was fixed, and the tcá·tcì·dn settled up at tsét’é‘’á·. That is how they came to get their land there.
These people on North Fork of White River and at the head of Forestdale Creek were called collectively tcá·tcì·dn because the majority of them were of that clan. They have since intermarried to great extent with White Mountain clans, particularly clan I, and have become almost absorbed by them. In spite of this, continual friction between the tcá·tcì·dn and their new neighbors, the White Mountain, resulted in several killings. The White Mountain attribute this to the fact that the tcá·tcì·dn did not belong with their group.
The tcá·tcì·dn first drew rations in 1864 at Fort Goodwin, on the Gila, where some of them went with White Mountain Apache. In 1869 they were under the jurisdiction of Fort Apache, where they also drew rations. When the bands were removed to the Gila Valley by Agent Clum in 1875, the tcá·tcì·dn were the only people in the Fort Apache Reservation who were not forced to leave their farms and homes. Today only a small number survive, living on North Fork of White River. Some still have farms on the head of Forestdale Creek, where they usually are found only in summer. The Carrizo band first drew rations at Fort Apache in 1869 and from then on were under its jurisdiction. They still live in their old home, the Carrizo Valley.
The Cibecue proper band was and still is called dzìłt’à·dn (“at the foot of mountains people”). Members of a similarly named clan were included, the term (especially descriptive of the Cibecue people’s location along the foot of the Mogollon Rim) being applied to both people because they lived at the base of mountains. Members of the dzìłt’à·dn clan in the Cibecue band were never numerous, and it is unlikely that the band was named for them. It is said that the name was first applied to them by the San Carlos group, who used it most frequently, although White Mountain, Southern Tonto, and Northern Tonto did also. The members of the Cibecue band do not call themselves by this name but instead habitually use their clans as unit identifications.
The Cibecue Valley is called dè·stcì·bìkò’ (“horizontally red canyon”), alluding to red sandstone bluffs along its sides, and, when designating all the people living there, local Apache say dè·stcì·bìkò’ndé·’ (“horizontally red canyon people”). Other bands sometimes use the term also. Any people can be defined by suffixing the word ndé·’ (“people”) to the name of their home locality. Some true band names are of this kind, and it is hard to distinguish between them and similar descriptive terms.
Farms of the band were on Cibecue Creek, or its tributaries, and were scattered along both sides of the creek from approximately four miles below the present trading store up to the mouth of Salt Creek. There were occasional farming patches on Salt Creek for nearly five miles and along Upper Cibecue Creek to White Springs. On Spring Creek, west of Cibecue, was a smaller settlement with farms. Although much time was spent in the valley of the Cibecue, frequent hunting trips were made along the Mogollon Rim in the Pinedale and Heber region, and sometimes in the fall the people journeyed farther north than this for juniper berries. They ranged southward to the Black River. The boundary to the west roughly followed the divide between Cibecue Valley and Canyon Creek.
The first remembered unwarlike relation with Americans was about 1857, when the Cibecue received word that the Americans at Tucson wanted the Apache to come in to “Urinating toward the Water” (the Apache name for the place), a place in the Canyon del Oro on the west side of the Santa Catalina Mountains, near Tucson. They say that this was two years or so before the military post of Camp Grant was established on the San Pedro (1859). News was passed around that Americans were going to give out presents (with the help of Yavapai, friendly to the whites). At first the Apache feared treachery, but finally some of them went, in company with a few of the Canyon Creek band, a considerable number of the Arivaipa and Pinal bands, and some Southeastern Yavapai. The Americans distributed red calico, pieces of copper wire for bracelets, and a little corn.
When Camp Grant was established, a few of the Cibecue group drew rations there. Not until 1869, when Fort Apache was founded and they came under jurisdiction of that post, did they draw rations regularly. In 1875 the majority were removed to San Carlos, where they were compelled to live for several years. The major portion soon returned to Cibecue, and in 1881 a fight with troops occurred there, owing to attempted arrest of a shaman of the band. Today the band remains in the Cibecue region, where they still preserve their identity under the jurisdiction of the Indian agency at White River.
The Canyon Creek band was called gùkijǹ, sometimes bìγá·gùlkijǹ (“spotted on top people”), the great stretch of country which they occupied just west of Canyon Creek being spotted with trees. They do not use this term but admit that they are so named by all other bands excepting the Cibecue band. These latter, like the Canyon Creek band, somewhat resent the term and consider clan names to be the only correct classifications for themselves, though they readily use band names for other groups. Their farms, more widely scattered than those of the Cibecue band, were located on Oak Creek, in Gentry Canyon running into Canyon Creek, on Canyon Creek, just below the mouth of Lost Fork Canyon, and at a place on Cherry Creek at the east foot of the Sierra Ancha. The sites were not extensive, but enough corn was raised to augment greatly the food supply.
The people traveled just beyond the Mogollon Rim as far as the head of Chevelon Fork on Chevelon Butte, which was as far as they dared without being in danger of the Navaho. On the west they claimed to the east end of Pleasant Valley and to the crest of the Sierra Ancha, where they often hunted and made summer camps. West of them in Pleasant Valley, and along the west slope of the Sierra Ancha, lived the Southern Tonto. On the south their territory was bounded by the Upper Salt River.
When the Americans distributed gifts near Tucson, as before mentioned, a few of the Canyon Creek band were present. Later, some drew rations at Camp Grant on the San Pedro. Like the Cibecue band, they did not come in close contact with Americans until the establishment of Fort Apache, when they drew rations under its jurisdiction. In 1875 most of them were removed to San Carlos, but after a few years they returned to their former country, where they have remained ever since.
In 1882 a body of men apparently of this band, as well as from the Cibecue and possibly from the Carrizo bands, killed Colvig, chief of the San Carlos Agency police, and some of his policemen, in the vicinity of San Carlos. They were pursued to Chevelon Fork, beyond the Mogollon Rim. The ensuing fight with them was called the “Battle of Big Dry Wash.” Only ten of twelve families are left living on Oak Creek and a few people at Cibecue. The farms on Oak Creek, as well as those at the old sites on Upper Canyon Creek, are still in use. These people have retained their band name and remain quite distinct.
All three of these bands are called collectively dzìłt’à·dn by both the White Mountain and the San Carlos groups. Although the Pinal, Arivaipa, San Carlos proper, and Apache Peaks bands are closely related to them and are recognized by both groups as legendary offshoots, the legendary separation took place so long ago that a distinction has grown up. Their speech remains very similar, according to Apache, but the Salt River has become a strong dividing-line between them. A term often used by the White Mountain Apache for the Cibecue group is haìyà·jédǹdé·hí (“west people”), referring to the location of these three bands, but it was not extended to the Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto groups. The Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto applied the term ǹtsè·àn to all three of the Cibecue bands.
The San Carlos group.—The Pinal band, ì·s’é·vàn, was named for the place ì·s’é·và· (“cottonwoods in gray wedge shape”) on Pinal Creek, now called “Wheat Fields” because of the fields of wheat planted by the Apache, which were found there by the first American troops who explored Pinal Creek. Groves of cottonwoods are still growing along the creek bottom. The band was known as ì·s’é·vàn among Cibecue, White Mountain, Southern Tonto, and Northern Tonto groups, and the members use the term for themselves, as did the other three bands in their group. Besides their main farming land (six miles or so of scattered farms along Pinal Creek in the Wheat Fields area) there were farming sites at the juncture of Pinal Creek and Upper Salt River, and on Salt River from the mouth of Pinal Creek to that of Tonto Creek. The people using these farms were some distance from Wheat Fields, but they were considered ì·s’é·vàn. In Coon Creek Canyon, running into Salt River, were farms shared by this band with some of the Apache Peaks band and a few of the Canyon Creek band. Certain of the Pinal shared a farm site with Arivaipa people at ì·stò dìdèstc’ìl (“large cottonwoods growing thickly”) on the north bank of the Gila River, in the mouth of Dick Springs Canyon.
The Pinal claim that, long ago, none of their people were living in any part of what is historically their territory; that all were north of the Upper Salt River, scattered between the Mazatzal Mountains on the west and the Cibecue on the east. It is true that, according to legend, the majority of their clans originated or first settled in this area to the north. Some claim that Wheat Fields was first found by hunters of clan 39 who, ranging south from their home on the west side of the Sierra Ancha, crossed the Upper Salt River and followed Pinal Creek until they came to Wheat Fields, then unoccupied. It appeared to be so favorable a location that they brought their families, settled, and started farming. Later, other clans joined them from north of Salt River until they became a band known as the ì·s’é·vàn.
When not at their farms, they ranged the country between them. Most of the summer was spent on the Pinal Mountain, where game abounded, and the country was cool, high, and safe from enemies. The south and southwest slopes were used for camp sites during the cold months of the year and as a base for raids on the Pima villages westward, Mexican settlements to the south, and the Papago country to the southwest. South of Pinal Mountain was Dripping Springs Valley, territory of Southeastern Yavapai. The band claimed as their western boundary the west end of Pinal Mountain, and a line running almost north from there along the east-west divides of the mountains to the present site of Roosevelt Dam, Iron Mountain being the most westerly point. Beyond was Yavapai country. Relations with the Yavapai were extremely friendly, and some intermarriage took place, yet the Pinal never intermixed with them permanently.
The mountains included in their territory on the west afforded a good place for game and certain wild plant foods. To the north they were bounded by the Southern Tonto, whose territory began some distance across the Salt River. On the east their land ran almost to the Apache Peaks, around which the friendly Apache Peaks band lived. To the southeast they were bounded by the Gila River, and beyond it lived their most closely related band, the Arivaipa. Just northwest of the Gila River were the Mescal Mountains, a favorable region for mescal plants.
According to old people, long ago (probably in the 1850’s) a white man visited them from the vicinity of Fort Defiance, New Mexico, coming about once a year for several years, bringing goods to trade to them and the Apache Peaks band, mainly gunpowder, caps, and lead for bullets. His name was cacbitc’ahn (“bear hat”) because he always used to wear a fur cap. This seems to have been the first friendly contact with Americans. Later, some of the people went to “Urinating toward the Water,” as already described. Not until the establishment of Camp Grant on the San Pedro was there a real effort made to bring them under an agency. However, the agency was not successful, and the soldiers there for several years seem to have spent most of their time in trying to pursue and kill the Apache.
In 1864 an expedition of Americans coming through the Wheat Fields region attacked the settlement there. Most of the people fled to the top of Pinal Mountain, and from there to the Arivaipa Valley, taking refuge with the Arivaipa band. When troops were stationed at Camp Grant for the second time after its abandonment during the Civil War, a temporary agency was set up (1867–68) for the purpose of treating with the Pinal and Arivaipa bands as well as with any other Apache who could be reached, supposedly in an effort to establish a reservation on which they might be kept. This agency was abandoned, as terms with the Apache could not be reached. In 1871 a new agency was established here, and some of the Pinal band who had come in to make peace at Camp Grant were told to camp with a large body of Arivaipa in Arivaipa Canyon above the post. They did so, living there peacefully for two months. One morning they were attacked by a party of Mexicans, Americans, and Papagos from Tucson who, undetected by the garrison at Camp Grant, killed about a quarter of the occupants of the camp (nearly a hundred, the Apache claim) and carried off twenty-three children. This was the famous Camp Grant Massacre. The survivors fled to the mountains where they joined other members of their band who had been wise enough not to intrust themselves to government protection. After a few months they were induced to come back, and peace was made once more in 1872 at Camp Grant. In the meantime, General Crook’s campaign had gathered most of the Pinal people who remained in the mountains, except a few small encampments.
In 1873 all Apache at Camp Grant were moved to the new post of San Carlos on the Gila River, where they were under the jurisdiction of the San Carlos Agency. They made farms principally along the San Carlos River, and what is left of the Pinal band is there today. One or two families work off and on for white farmers at Wheat Fields. The older members are still called ì·s’é·bàn both by themselves and by others who remember their former status, but the term is no longer commonly used.
The Arivaipa band was called tcéjìné (“dark rocks people”) derived from tséìjìn (“dark rocks”). The term applied to a part of the Galliuro Mountains in their territory, around which they lived. They used the term tcéjìné, as did the other three bands of their group and the White Mountain and Cibecue groups. They were also called ì·s’é·vàn by these same groups and bands who occasionally included them as part of the Pinal. As the Arivaipa and Pinal consider themselves closely related to each other, it is quite probable that the Arivaipa were merely a part of the Pinal band which moved south. Both bands have practically the same clans, and among the Arivaipa there are traditions of a gradual migration down from their former homes north of the Upper Salt River in the Sierra Ancha and Cibecue regions. The following story concerning this movement was told by Walter Hooke (Arivaipa band):
We have a story about long ago how the tcéjìné and the ì·s’é·vàn moved to their own countries. Long, long ago, we were all living around Cibecue with the dzìłt’à·dn. When our people had gathered most of the mescal around that country, they moved toward the west and southwest, following the mescal wherever they could find it and living off pack rats which they caught in their nests. Thus, the people finally worked over toward Wheat Fields, and at this place they settled and started to clear the land for farming. They raised crops. After they had been here awhile, some moved south about the Pinal Mountains and lived there by hunting rats and deer. Then some settled near the Mescal Mountains. Later on, some of them moved over to Dick Springs Canyon and farmed. After this, some moved to tsé nàn tè·lé (“broad slanting rock”) near Klondike and farmed. Now they all had lots of food. This must have happened very long ago, when the earth was new and still soft. Since that time, our people have never returned to where we used to live around Cibecue.
It is difficult to say when the Arivaipa occupied their historic territory, but we know that the Sobaipuri, a Piman tribe who inhabited the San Pedro River Valley, were forced to give up their settlements along that river in the middle of the eighteenth century because of Apache pressure.
The Arivaipa farming sites which were their main places of abode were three: at the mouth of Dick Springs Canyon, their largest one in the head of the Arivaipa Canyon at tsé nàn tè·lé, and the third nearly at the mouth of the same canyon. Their territory extended east to Turnbull Mountain and the Santa Teresa Mountains. South, they ranged to the head of the Arivaipa Valley and the southern end of the Galliuro Mountains, beyond which was Chiricahua territory. The southern end of the Galliuro Mountains and the southwest spur of the Santa Teresa Mountains, where the country was very rough and where women, children, and old people could be left hidden securely, were favorite locations for winter camps from which raiding parties could go to Mexico. Across the San Pedro to the southwest the Arivaipa ranged along the northeast slope of the Santa Catalina and Tanque Verde mountains. The vicinity of Oracle was a favorite place for gathering acorns. During the summertime they lived in these mountains, almost overlooking Tucson and the Santa Cruz Valley. Here was good hunting and safety, as long as a sharp watch was kept for Mexicans, Americans, and Papago. Along the San Pedro Valley the fruit of the saguaro was gathered in July.
From near the mouth of the San Pedro River up the Gila River to the mouth of Dripping Springs Wash, they were bordered by the Yavapai, whose territory began west of these rivers. Between the Mescal Mountains and the region about the mouth of the San Carlos River, the San Carlos band were their neighbors. Although closely related to them and on friendly terms, they did not contact the San Carlos as much as the Pinal band. They claimed that the San Carlos and Apache Peaks bands were similar to each other and that they spoke slightly differently from Pinal and Arivaipa.
Apparently the Arivaipa first came in official contact with Americans when the Pinal did, at Canyon del Oro. After the establishment of Camp Grant on the San Pedro in 1857 the history of the two bands is almost identical. Soldiers and Apache Mansos and Papago scouts destroyed most of their farms and kept them on the move for several years. Finally, when they made peace in 1871, many lost their lives in the Camp Grant Massacre. In 1873 they were removed, with other Apache at Camp Grant, to San Carlos. In 1874, after they had been there about a year, some of them raided a wagon train across the Gila River from San Carlos carrying a shipment of whiskey. Those who participated fled to the hills, and many of the Arivaipa, fearing that the troops would take vengeance on them as a whole, left San Carlos and started south into their old country. They were followed by troops and Apache scouts from Fort Apache and were brought back to San Carlos without bloodshed. Two Arivaipa chiefs who had refused to come in to San Carlos since the establishment of the agency were still in the mountains with their people. The San Carlos agent hired men belonging to their local groups to bring the chiefs in, dead or alive. They succeeded in bringing the chiefs in dead.
Soon the tension subsided as all Apache belonging to the San Carlos group were established at San Carlos, busy preparing farms for themselves. Part of the Arivaipa selected land at the foot of Victor’s Bluff on the west side of the San Carlos River, some five miles above old San Carlos, but the larger portion settled around the mouth of Salt Wash on the north bank of the Gila River about eight miles above the mouth of the San Carlos. In 1877 the chief hàckí·bánzín moved with his followers back to the mouth of the San Pedro River, then supposed to be on the San Carlos Reservation. But in 1888 he was forced to return to the Gila again, under threats of a raid by whites who wanted the land for themselves. This time his people settled at Old Subagency on the south side of the Gila, the present site of Calva, where they farmed until the land washed out, causing them to move to Bylas. The Arivaipa at the mouth of Salt Creek lost their land through flood also and moved back to San Carlos, where some managed to take up new farms. On the erection of Coolidge Dam, these farms were condemned, and they went farther up the San Carlos River, where the remainder of them, with the exception of those at Bylas, are now scattered among the other Apache.
Although older people of the band still call themselves tcéjìné, as older Apache of other bands do, the name is now little used. Those living at Bylas are sometimes spoken of as ‘tłùà· (“cane people”). Neither a band nor a clan name, its use is localized to Bylas, and there mainly among the people of the White Mountain group. A White Mountain man originated it, because some of the old men had the habit of carrying about cane arrows.
The San Carlos band proper, the smallest band of its group, was called sà’hndè·dò·t’án (“separate it has been placed beside something fire people”) by the White Mountain, Cibecue, and its own group. This name was said by John Andrew (San Carlos band) to have been acquired as follows:
We got our name from an incident long ago. A war party of our men from the San Carlos River went to old Mexico. When on their way, they stopped at a place to roast some meat over the coals of a fire. While the rest of the party was waiting for the meat to be cooked, one man ate it by himself. Ever after that our people were called sà’hndè·dòt’án. This happened long before any of the people living now were born, they say.
Mainly because of intermarriage there were members of all other clans in the group, but this band was made up in great part of four clans: two from Carrizo and two from Cibecue, according to legend. This fits in with the feeling of close relationship between the band and the Cibecue group. They say that they have not always lived in their present country; that long ago there were no Apache in this area south of the Upper Salt River. There may be some historic significance in the fact that the name for the band is said to have been acquired after raids southward began, against the Spaniards or Mexicans, which according to Spanish records started regularly in 1688. The Apache occupation of the San Carlos Valley probably coincided with the general southern movement of the other bands in this group across the Salt River.
The almost negligible number of farms of the San Carlos band were all at places on the San Carlos River, from Victor’s Bluff to just above the mouth of Seven Mile Wash. With no ditches or dams for irrigation of the little patches of corn, wheat, and pumpkins, they depended on planting in the damp soil along the river bottom, which they say at that time grew thick with brush and groves of cottonwood trees. The river never ran dry and was not full of sand bars as it is now. The people spent most of their time between the region of Cassador Springs and the Gila River. They went south of the Gila River only on raids to Mexico. On the north they ranged as far as the vicinity of Hill Top and from there on to Salt River Canyon, touching the river only opposite the mouth of Salt River Draw, called ’icy (“salt”), where deposits from brackish water coming into Salt River from the north were used for salt. Those deposits were a common salt ground to all the people of the region, and no band or group claimed them. On the east their territory ran to the Triplets, which they say was their mountain. To the west they claimed the country as far as the east foot of the Apache Peaks, the land of the friendly and related Apache Peaks band, who permitted them to gather and roast the mescal which grew on their mountains. To the south the Hayes Mountains offered good hunting and varieties of wild plant foods. Their land went as far as the Mescal Mountains near the foot of Dripping Springs Wash.
In his personal narrative (1824–30) James Pattie describes coming upon the camp of some Apache at the mouth of the San Carlos River in 1826. These Apache were probably a part of the sà’hndè·dò·t’án, and more than likely this was the first time that they had ever set eyes on an American. Not until 1864, when Fort Goodwin was established, did they come to friendly terms. Some went to Fort Goodwin for rations and to see what the Americans looked like. Many camped around the post for a time, until trouble arose with the military, and all the Apache left for the mountains. From then until 1873 the troops made several attacks upon people of the San Carlos band, operating mainly from Camp Grant on the San Pedro and Fort Apache. In that year they agreed to live on a reservation and were accordingly located at San Carlos. The band settled along the San Carlos River between the present site of Rice and Peridot, with the majority at the latter place.
Some time in the late eighties or early nineties Apache on the San Carlos River were killed by members of this band. Fearing a feud would start and that the consequences which might arise would be blamed on them, Casidor, their most influential chief, led his people up the San Carlos River some ten miles above Rice, where they ascended a mesa and fortified themselves. They attacked Apache scouts from San Carlos who had been sent to drive some cattle over the mesa to Bear Canyon. After the fight they moved on, in five days coming into Globe to surrender. Since that time they have remained on the reservation, and their descendants, well mixed with other Apache, are living on the San Carlos River. They merely speak of their forebears as having been sà’hndè·dò·t’án, and many younger Apache no longer know the term.
The Apache Peaks band was called nàdà dògùlnìné, also nàdà dògùlnì·hé (“tasteless mescal people”), having received its name in the following way: “People were traveling along. They had some mescal with them. When they came to eat the mescal, they found it was spoiled and had no taste. From that time on the people became known as nàdà dògùlnìné (’spoiled mescal people’).” This band was also called ǹdé·’ílt’ànánì·gé (“mixed together people”) because it was intermarried with and lived between the San Carlos, Pinal, and some of the Canyon Creek band and shared certain of their sites. It has much the same status as the ǹdé·’ílt’ànánì·gé of the White Mountain group, except that here the unit, though always few in number, had acquired a name of its own and was classed as a separate band by surrounding peoples. Sometimes, together with the San Carlos proper band, they are spoken of as sà’hndè·dò·t’ án, and both considered themselves to be the same in speech and custom. The nàdà dògùlnìné used this name for themselves, as did the other San Carlos bands and the Cibecue group. The band was composed mainly of one clan, the xàgò·ztè·lé (“people of the wide canyon running upward”) (with the exception of members of other clans included because of intermarriage), who claim to have migrated from north of the Salt River. Occasionally, when one uses the term nàdà dògùlnìné with an old Apache, he will say, “Oh, yes, that was what they called the xàgò·ztè·lé living about the Apache Peaks.”
Within their own territory there were no farms, but some of the band had little farm patches on the San Carlos River at the mouth of Seven Mile Wash and at one or two sites about a mile below. Others farmed in territory of the Pinal band where the Roosevelt-Globe Highway crosses Pinal Creek. Below, at Wheat Fields, they farmed with the Pinal, but all the Apache Peaks farms are said to have been on the east side of the creek, whereas the Pinal farmed on both sides. This was because the Apache Peaks people were outsiders and belonged to the east. A few had farms at the site in Coon Creek Canyon already mentioned. For their own territory the band claimed all the Apache Peaks, on which they spent most of the year when not at the farms. Northward, they ranged over the Seven Mile Mountains and along the south side of Upper Salt River from the mouth of Coon Creek to the mouth of Salt River Draw, where they obtained salt.
Their history in connection with the Americans is much the same as that of the Pinal and San Carlos groups. Between 1864 and 1873 they were continually on the watch for United States troops from Fort Goodwin, Fort Apache, Camp MacDowell, and Camp Grant on the San Pedro. In 1873 they were placed on the San Carlos River under the new agency at San Carlos. They settled mainly between the mouth of Seven Mile Wash and new San Carlos, and what few are left still remain there. Their descendants are no longer called nàdà dògùlnìné, and the term is almost unknown through lack of use.
The close association of the Pinal and Arivaipa bands, on one hand, and the San Carlos and Apache Peaks bands, on the other, is quite possibly explained by clan migration legends. Those people originally forming the latter pair claimed to come from clans living formerly between the Sierra Ancha and Carrizo Creek, whereas those of the first pair are made up of clans not only that, according to legend, came from between Cibecue and the Sierra Ancha but also that came from between the Sierra Ancha and the Mazatzal Range.
The White Mountain people speak of the San Carlos group as a whole either as haìyà·jédǹdé·hí· (“west people”) or, more commonly, as dij.’é’ (in reference to their way of speaking through their teeth and to the tone of their voices, which sounds like j·j·). The second term is also used by White Mountain, Cibecue, and San Carlos groups for the Southern Tonto and the Northern Tonto. The White Mountain people alone use it for the San Carlos group, apparently because they consider them to be somewhat like the Southern Tonto. (True enough, part of the San Carlos people claim to have come, according to legend, from a territory occupied by Southern Tonto.) However, a White Mountain Apache will differentiate a true Southern Tonto or Northern Tonto by saying that he means a “real dìj·’éʿ’” from the west side of the Sierra Ancha and on up to Camp Verde, not a tcéjìné or ì·s’e·vàn. They commonly use the band names and say dìj’·’éʿ more often in a scornful or derogatory way, especially when aggravated. The term dìj’·’éʿ, applied to San Carlos, Southern Tonto, or Northern Tonto, is resented by these people, especially the first, and other groups are sometimes careful not to use the term where they will overhear them.
An incident took place at Fort Apache recently which shows their attitude toward the use of this name. During the Fourth of July celebration people from San Carlos attended: San Carlos, Southern Tonto, and Northern Tonto. Over a mixed gathering of San Carlos and White Mountain people flew a small species of raven, for which the White Mountain term is gà·gédìjé·’éʿ (dìj·’éʿ—“raven”), in reference to his harsh metallic call, which the bird was uttering at the time. A White Mountain man remarked, “There goes gà·gédìjé·’éʿ over us.” A man from San Carlos, either a San Carlos or a Southern Tonto, overheard him and arose in anger, ready to fight. “What did you say? Say that once more. I heard it, what you said. We people come up here to visit you; you should not talk that way about us.” The White Mountain Apache explained that this was the correct name of the bird and that he meant no harm, but he could not convince the visitors, who thought that he had said it to insult them. (However, he may have had some ulterior motive in calling attention to the raven.) The White Mountain people delighted in telling of the affair afterward.
Neil Buck (Western White Mountain band) used to tease Anna Price’s grandchildren who came to listen to her stories, telling the old woman (then blind) when she inquired who had come that these were some dìj·’éʿ to see her, much to the embarrassment of the children, who squirmed in their discomfort; they were actually White Mountain. Anna Price once teased her great-grandson in the same manner, saying, “What is this here, a Yavapai, or maybe he is dìj·’éʿ. Oh, no, I guess he is Pima.” The little fellow laughed and stoutly said “No” to all her accusations. The Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto groups used for the San Carlos group as a whole the same term that they applied to the Cibecue group, another indication of the relationship between the San Carlos and Cibecue groups.
It is important to note the tendency of the four bands in this group to lose their identity when placed together on the reservation. Today they are fast becoming one and already are known by other Western Apache as San Carlos ǹdé·ʿ (“San Carlos people”).
The Southern Tonto group.—The Southern Tonto are divided into the Mazatzal band and six more amorphous divisions called semibands. Excepting the Mazatzal band and first semiband, the remaining five semibands have really been formed of a few clans claiming local origin or legendary first settlement in what are now vaguely distinguished territories. To avoid confusion with “bands,” these territorial units are termed “semibands.” The first semiband, though differing somewhat from the other five, is classed with them for lack of a more suitable term.
The Mazatzal band, tséno·’ltł’ì·jǹ (“rocks in a line of greenness people”), took its name from tséno·’ltł’ì·j, the Mazatzal Mountains, and claimed the east slope of this range. The west slope was Yavapai territory, and the people sometimes visited the Yavapai living in Sunflower Valley, west of the divide, but they remained unmixed and were purely Apache in language. The remainder of their group, as well as the Northern Tonto and Pinal and Canyon Creek bands, knew them by the above term, though the latter two bands made little use of it. Even other Southern Tonto did not use it much, often designating them merely as the people of such-and-such chiefs. Actually, the term expressed all the people in the region of tséno·’ltł’ì·j (“Mazatzal Mountains”) rather than a distinct band, such as those of the White Mountain group.
The crest of the Mazatzal Range forms a rough line running north from Four Peaks. It was a fine place for the people to camp in the heat of summer, with good hunting and plentiful plant foods. On the south they were bounded again by the Yavapai, north of Salt River. On the east they ranged to Tonto Creek and across it in the region of the present village of Tonto, one of their main camp sites, and where the most influential chief, tc’à’łìba·hń (“brown hat”), lived much of the time. Bordering them in the northeast were the people of the second semiband, and on the north were the Apache living around dák’èʿgùdùtł’ìj (“blue farms”) who formed the fourth semiband.
While many of the band spent most of their time in the Mazatzal Mountains and had no farms, others planted at various places along Tonto Creek, from its mouth up to the box canyon above the entrance of Gem Creek. At the juncture of Salt River and Tonto Creek they, and members of the Pinal band, had adjacent farms but always retained their group identities. At the present time this band is almost extinct, only a few remaining at San Carlos and the Gisela settlement.
The first semiband inhabited the west slope of the Sierra Ancha from the head of Gem Creek south to Salt River, just above the mouth of Tonto Creek. On the southwest it was bounded by Tonto Creek and on the west extended almost to the same water course. This region was rough and broken by canyons running to Tonto Creek; but in its eastern part near the top of the Sierra Ancha were places with a continual flow of water where the people spent much of their time, especially in August, when the acorns were ripe and the weather hot in the lower country. These Apache were indistinct as a unit and undesignated by name. They were not composed of certain clans which claimed to have originated here, as the clans which, according to legend, came from this area, all moved south at the time of the migration already mentioned and are now found almost entirely among the Pinal and Arivaipa. Quite possibly they came into the area after the migration. They had several chiefs, each residing with his people at certain sites. The principal chief was a man called tcìltcì·’òì’àné (“rectum”), living at the place h·k’áyé on the head of Greenback Creek, west of Greenback Peak. This chief and his followers had farms along Greenback Creek, and here the population of the area was centered. At times it is said that this semiband was all under the chief tcìltcì·’òì’àné, although it really consisted of several chiefs and their followings.
On the west was the closely related Mazatzal band, the two peoples visiting back and forth continually; on the north were the people of the second and sixth semibands, also closely affiliated. The people of the first semiband sometimes distinguish themselves and the Mazatzal band from the Southern Tonto, claiming that they are to be classed not with them but with the San Carlos group. Apparently, they had affiliations in both directions. Visits to the Apache at Wheat Fields and in the Pinal Mountains were not uncommon, though they were interrupted by occasional quarrels. Only a very few are left who originally came from this area. They live at San Carlos and Gisela.
The second semiband was composed mainly of people belonging to three related clans and one unrelated clan who still occupied their legendary origin places: clan 15 on Spring Creek, along which their farms were located; clan 16 near Turkey Creek between Spring Creek and Gisela, their favorite camp site; clan 17 at saí’é·dìgài (“line of white sand joining” [Gisela]), their farm site; and clan 51 łèdìtγùj (“juncture of two canyons”), the juncture of Rye and Tonto creeks, where they farmed. The people of all four clans, and others living within the area, were generally considered as forming a territorial unit which included a minority of other clans introduced through intermarriage. The population of the area was located mainly at the four sites mentioned above, with the greatest concentration probably in the region of Gisela. People from the Mazatzal Mountains without farms came to Gisela every September to visit and obtain corn, and even the Yavapai from west of the Mazatzal Mountains occasionally did the same. Except for a few members, clan 15 from Spring Creek had long ago migrated south of the Salt River and become absorbed into the Pinal band, but none of the other clans who claimed legendary origin places in the area had left it. Today, those people who originally lived in the area are almost gone. The remnant live at Gisela in a small settlement composed of about eight families, and some descendants are also living at San Carlos.
The third semiband was composed mainly of people belonging to clans who claimed origin at places within its lands: clan 35 from t’éʿgò·tsùk (Payson) and clan 33 from k’aì ǹtcì· (Round Valley), closely related to each other. The people farmed at the above two sites as well as at Green Valley (called tł’ùkà·dǹgaì) and Star Valley. The sites of Star Valley and Green Valley belonged almost entirely to clan 35. Probably on this account the people of the third semiband are sometimes mentioned collectively as t’éhgó·tsùdǹ (“people of the yellow speckled water” [name of clan 35]). The principal chief was called bàyá·gòtì’ (“notified of a war dance”) and belonged to clan 35. The people felt distinct from surrounding semibands, though they were on friendly terms with all and closely related to some, particularly those northwest and southwest. At present only a small remnant remains; about four families at San Carlos, two or three at Camp Verde, and two or three at Gisela. Their old territory is entirely taken over by American ranchers and farmers.
The fourth semiband consisted mainly of two unrelated clans. The first was clan 32, which claims to have originally settled off the north end of the Mazatzal Mountains near the site dák’è’gùdùtł’ìj (“blue farms”) where springs flowed. The second, clan 40, according to tradition moved into the area after clan 32, coming from the east fork of the Verde. Within historic times the people of both these clans farmed about dák’è’gùdùtł’ìj and were often designated as dák’è’gùdùtł’ìjn (“blue farms people”) though this referred only to those farming at dák’è’gùdùtł’ìj itself. They ranged north toward the East Verde to the bordering fifth semiband with whom they felt closely affiliated. The Mazatzal band was also akin because it contained many people of clans 32 and 40 whose forebears had moved south from the vicinity of dák’è’gùdùtł’ìj. In fact, its name was sometimes used to include those Apache about dák’è’gùdùtł’ìj. No people belonging to this semiband remain in the old area. At Camp Verde there are still a few who maintain themselves principally by working about the towns in the Verde Valley.
The fifth semiband was composed of two unrelated clans: clan 60, claiming origin at yà·gòhè·gaì (“whiteness spread out descending”) in the open grassy country sloping toward the East Verde in the vicinity of White Rock Mesa, north of the East Verde, and clan 34, who claim to have originated at nà·gòzùgè (“marked on ground”) a little north of the East Verde in Weber Canyon. Its members were fairly numerous, farming not only at yà·gòhè·gaì and nà·gòzùgè but also on the East Verde just below the Payson to Pine Road, about two miles up the East Verde at a site called bìk’íd (“on a hilltop”), at Pine itself, on Pine Creek near Natural Bridge, at Strawberry, and on the south fork of Strawberry Creek. The last-mentioned farms were occupied mainly by people of clan 34, though quite a number of clan 60 were among them. At Pine, together with the people of clan 34, were some members of clan 47 from the sixth semiband to the east.
The people within this area seldom went south of the East Verde. Northward, they ranged up to the top of the Mogollon Rim, where they had one farm at Strawberry. North and east of the Mogollon Rim they extended through the Long Valley country and as far as the region of Hay Lake; but this high, pine-timbered country was utilized only for hunting and gathering certain wild seeds in the summer. In winter the people were to be found south of the Mogollon Rim, a lower and milder climate. To the northwest they were bounded by the Fossil Creek band; to the north, by the Mormon Lake band; to the east by the people of the sixth semiband with whom they had more intercourse than any of the other semibands. This is especially true of clan 34, who were closest.
Apparently, the majority of this semiband were of clan 34, and, probably because of this, the inhabitants of the whole area were sometimes called nà·gòzògǹ (“people who mark the ground with a stick”), even though clan 60 was well represented. The few of this band that remain—not more than seven or eight families—are now located at Camp Verde, where they live outside the town and work in the Verde Valley at whatever occupations they can find. Their old territory is completely taken over by Americans.
The sixth semiband consisted of four related clans and a clan or clan division. Clan 47 lived mainly between the head of the East Verde and east along the foot of the Mogollon Rim to Promontory Butte, with farms on the East Verde near the mouth of Pyeatt Gulch, at ní·gùldzìs on the side of Promontory Butte, and at tc’ó’ùłdjé·djì’ (“spruces extending in a point”) just east of Promontory Butte. Clan 48 farmed in a canyon about six miles north of Young’s Post Office at Pleasant Valley. Clan 50 farmed about a quarter of a mile below k’aìx·t’ì. (“willows sprouting out”) in the same canyon. Clan 49 farmed in the same canyon at k’aìx·t’ì·, and clan 62 farmed at músì, (“owl’s song”) near Christopher Mountain and Horse Mountain, south of Promontory Butte. They extended up over the Mogollon Rim and toward the country southeast of Hay Lake. This northern area was visited only on hunting trips or in summer to get certain seeds and berries, most of the year being spent south of the Mogollon Rim.
On the east was the Canyon Creek band with whom they had little to do, though there are some people of clan 47 living now at Cibecue. Their presence is explained thus: “Long ago, dziłt’à·dn living near Promontory Butte killed people of the Pinal band way south of them. In retaliation the Pinal sent a raiding party up to Promontory Butte and attacked the dzìłt’à·dn at tc’ó’ùłjé·djì’, killing many. The survivors fled to Cibecue, where they have remained ever since.” Today, the people of this semiband are almost extinct, except for one man living at Payson, three or four at San Carlos, and others who are descendants.
The Mazatzal band and the first semiband occupied the most southerly areas in the territory of their group. Furthermore, according to tradition in both Southern Tonto group and Pinal band, this southern region is approximately the one evacuated by certain clans moving south across the Salt River long ago. In the northern territory of the group were five semibands, each composed of certain clans who had maintained their clan unity by remaining at their old farms, just as did the clans in the Cibecue group. It seems reasonable to conclude that, if migration legends are true, the abandoned land north of the Salt River would surely be reoccupied in time, for many Apache, belonging to other clans, lived directly north of it. Naturally, when these people moved into the abandoned area, they no longer maintained their former clan unity because, like the clans which claim to have moved south across the Salt River long ago from the Cibecue region, they scattered and settled at different places, thus becoming intermingled. Such a hypothesis is further borne out by the fact that almost every clan which existed among the Mazatzal and the first semiband were clans which came from one of the five other semibands of the group, in whose territory they claimed to have originated or first settled. The similarity between the contrasting formations in the northern and southern areas of this group and those of the Cibecue and San Carlos groups can readily be seen. The main difference is that the vastly larger body of people in the San Carlos group had crystallized into a separate group with distinct bands.
The band and six semibands were probably almost identical in custom and speech. They themselves say: “From nà·gòzògè [near Pine] south to t’ájìdà’hǹdjà’ (’turkeys roosting’), Tonto on Tonto Creek, all the people were alike and spoke the same. But from nà·gòzògè, north and northwest, they [Northern Tonto] talked differently from us. Those east of the Sierra Ancha [Cibecue group] are unlike us, as are those south of the Salt River [San Carlos group] toward San Carlos.” The people of this group had no name for themselves as a whole, nor did Apache living north and northwest have one for them, merely designating them by the localities in which they lived. To the White Mountain, Cibecue, and San Carlos groups they were known as dij·’é’ and still are. These groups seldom applied any more definite term to them except to say “the dij·’é’ or ǹdé·’ [people] who live at such-and-such a place.” The Southern Tonto never use the first term among themselves.
Until 1864 the Southern Tonto were little affected by the American influx into Arizona, except for a few skirmishes with American military parties. In 1864 Camp Verde was established on the Verde River, and friendly Yavapai were sent among the Southern Tonto with word that rations would be given to any who came. A few of the more venturesome took advantage of this, but most were too suspicious. Troops were sent out to bring them in, with disastrous results to friendship. At Camp Reno in the Tonto Basin there were a few friendly Southern Tonto and some Yavapai who remained peacefully with the soldiers during part of the year of 1869. Over the rest of the country the unsettled condition remained until 1872, when General Crook launched his campaign. Shortly afterward, one hundred and ten Southern Tonto were captured near the Tonto Basin and taken to Old Camp Grant on the San Pedro. Later, more of them were captured and brought in to Camp Verde, with the help of Apache scouts from the White Mountain, Cibecue, and San Carlos groups. Finally, in the same year, tc’à łìbà·hń, the Mazatzal chief, came to Camp Verde and made peace for many of his people. Following the peace, most of the Southern Tonto settled there with the Northern Tonto and certain bands of Yavapai. A reservation was established about the post, but it was not until 1874 that all the Southern Tonto were gathered together. In these campaign years many of them were killed, and some of the parties captured were only women, children, and old people, the men having been slain in battle.
In 1875 the Apache at Camp Verde had the construction of an irrigation ditch for farming well under way, but in that year, owing to the plan of concentrating all Apache in Arizona at the San Carlos Agency, the Southern Tonto, with other Indians at Camp Verde, were moved to San Carlos. On the way some escaped to their mountains. The Southern Tonto chose to locate their camps and farms at San Carlos, along the north bank of the Gila River below the mouth of the San Carlos River, and thence downward toward the site of Coolidge Dam. A few settled at Bylas in the eighties. They remained on the reservation peacefully until 1898, after which the San Carlos agent at various times gave many of them permits to return to their old homes and to Camp Verde. Those who reoccupied former homes tried to maintain little farms, but, with no protection against the white people, their land was soon stolen from them. Some remained at their farms along the Gila River, but in 1937 the last of these moved back to Gisela, Camp Verde, and Payson. Lately, many have returned to San Carlos and live on Gilson Wash. One or two are at Bylas, and several are intermarried with Yavapai at Fort MacDowell.
The Northern Tonto group.—The people of the Mormon Lake band, generally known as dù·tł’ìjì’hà’hì’é·łndé·’ (“turquoise boiling up people”), had their main camp site at a big park in the pine timber east of Mormon Lake and near the head of Anderson’s Canyon, where a spring with blue sand bubbled up. The name “turquoise boiling up” derived from this was seldom used and was not primarily a band name, but it was apparently the only one by which they were known. The principal chief was nádìγúdé (“he gets off something”), and more often members of other bands referred to the people as “the people of nádìγúdé.” Through continued separation from the three remaining bands of their group, they considered themselves distinct, and the others recognized this. Because of intermarriage, many clans were represented among them, almost all of those existing among the Southern Tonto as well as most of the clans in the other Northern Tonto bands. Pure Athapaskan linguistically, they were not associated with Yavapai, as were the other bands of their group; in fact, they had little to do with any Yavapai except when visiting the Fossil Creek and Oak Creek bands southwest and west of them. They claim to have had no farms, lacking water or suitable ground, and because of their exposed position to hostile Navaho, Havasupai, and Walapai. They depended entirely on hunting and wild plant foods.
Besides dù·tł’ìjìhàhì’é·ł, favorite summer camps were in vicinity of Mormon Lake, Mary’s Lake, and elsewhere. In summer the people ranged up to the southern foot of the San Francisco Mountains and Elden Mountain at Flagstaff. They hunted here but never went far up on the mountains, believing that supernatural beings lived on top. Southward, they extended as far as Stoneman’s Lake and Hay Lake. All this country was in high pine timber and too cold for winter habitation. In the cold months the people moved eastward into the sheltered draws along the edge of the great level desert country sloping toward the Little Colorado River. Here favorite places were Anderson’s Canyon and Padre Canyon at the foot of the bluffs, where rain water was found in the natural rock tanks. They were the only Western Apache who lived entirely north of the Mogollon Rim, and, therefore, little or no mescal grew in their territory. Every spring part of the people went south off the Mogollon Rim to the Fossil Creek region where they could obtain the plant in the lands of the friendly and related Fossil Creek band. They also went for certain plant foods to the eastern territory of the Oak Creek band, always on amicable terms with them. The band, the most exposed to hostile tribes of any of the Western Apache, were constantly on the move to avoid attack. At present I know of no members surviving from prereservation times, although some may remain in the Upper Verde Valley.
The Fossil Creek band, the t’udù·tł’ìjndé·’ (“blue water people”), took its name from t’údu·’tł’ìj (“blue water”), Fossil Creek, the place most frequented. Again, this is a regional name which applied mainly to people living on Fossil Creek and is not definitely a band name, though it is the only term used to designate the people of the area. The band was made up of Yavapai and Apache, the latter forming the majority. Both Yavapai and Apache peoples were so interrelated by marriage that they did not constitute separate parties within the band. Usually, the main body of Apache on Fossil Creek camped higher up than the Yavapai, who commonly stayed downstream, but they still mixed with Apache.
Their farms, none of them more than tiny patches, were on Fossil Creek, Clear Creek, and at a site on the Verde River below the mouth of Deer Creek. The people were well scattered over their territory, most of them having no farms. Westward, they extended to the west side of the Verde River, beyond which was the friendly and related Bald Mountain band. Northwestward, their land ran across Clear Creek to Oak Creek band territory. Northeastward, Apache Maid Mountain was approximately their limit. To the southeast were the Southern Tonto people, always distinct from them. Southwest, a band of Yavapai which the Apache called ndìtcí·’t’à·zìhìst’ásǹdé·’ (“yellow pine bent backward people”) lived about the big timbered mountain composing Turret Peak and Pine Mountain, from which they took the name. This Yavapai band was friendly but seldom crossed the Verde River to Fossil Creek. A few Apache of the Northern Tonto group lived and intermarried with them. At present apparently no Apache people of this band remain except a family or two now living on Fossil Creek and possibly a few on Beaver Creek, at the Camp Verde Agency, or at Cottonwood and Clarkdale.
The Bald Mountain band called dàszínédsàdáyèndé·’ or dàszínédàsdáidn (“porcupine sitting above people”) took its name from dàszínédàsdáyè (“porcupine sitting above”), the big mountain on the west side of the Verde Valley, southwest of Camp Verde, called Bald Mountain and Squaw Peak. dàszínédàsdáidn was also a clan, and the majority of people in this band were members; however, other clans were included through intermarriage with outside bands. The band may have been an outgrowth of this clan. Its people were part Apache and part Yavapai, but the Apache claim that in the beginning the dàszínédàsdáidn clan was purely Apache. They lived almost entirely about the big mountain from which they took their name. The band, if it can really be called such, was very small and made its living entirely by hunting and wild plant foods, as no farm land existed. To north, west, and south were Yavapai related to the band through its own Yavapai people. Both the Yavapai and the Apache of the band often visited on Fossil Creek. At present, the Apache of this band are extinct, except for one or two of their descendants living at San Carlos and possibly some in the Upper Verde Valley.
The Oak Creek band, tséhìtcì·ndé·’ (“horizontal red rock people”), was not a distinct unit but was only named thus from tséhìtcì·, the surrounding red sandstone mesas and buttes at Sedona on Oak Creek. It was generally known by this term to the rest of this group as well as to the Southern Tonto. Its several chiefs and their local groups usually each remained in one locality. One such local group was called ’ìtsèłtsùkbìkgwàndé·’ (“red-tail hawk’s home people”) because of frequenting a place near Oak Creek, some three or four miles west of Sedona, where a large red rock was called ’ìtsèłtsùkbìgwà (“red-tail hawk’s home”). The Oak Creek band was half-Apache, half-Yavapai, and the two peoples intermingled. They lived along Oak Creek on Dry Beaver Creek and Wet Beaver Creek. Southward, their territory ran to the west side of the Verde River, between Altman and West Clear Creek. Eastward, they ranged up on the Mogollon Rim, as far as Stoneman’s Lake and almost to Mary’s Lake. Northward, their territory extended to the region of Roger’s Lake and Flagstaff. Westward, they did not range much beyond the divide between Oak Creek and Sycamore Creek, where Yavapai people of other bands lived. One of these bands, which included a very few Northern Tonto Apache, lived on and about Mingus Mountain and the Black Hills immediately west of Jerome. The Apache called them dùtł’ìjdà’ìzk’ánndé·’ (“blue, flat-topped people”), because of their home on the Black Hills, dùtł’ìjdà’ìzk’án (“blue, flat topped”).
The principal chief of the Oak Creek band, a man called ndéndè·z (“tall man”), was married to a Yavapai woman. His favorite camping place was about Sedona and south of it along the red sandstone bluffs. Members of other bands sometimes referred to the whole Oak Creek band as the “people of ndéndè·z.” The only Apache remnants of this band are a few now living around Cottonwood and Clarkdale in the Verde Valley, where in prosperous times the men hold jobs about the towns. Some of these people are also on the Small Camp Verde Reservation and on Beaver Creek. They remain mixed with what is left of the Yavapai members of their band.
The one band of the Northern Tonto which was purely Apache was farthest removed from the Yavapai, as might be expected. However, there apparently was little if any cultural or linguistic difference between it and the rest of the group. It is interesting to note that the Apache and Yavapai in this group have maintained their own language, whereas in material culture there seem to have been few if any differences between them. An individual born an Apache preferably used the Apache language, even though he might speak Yavapai; and, in spite of being bilingual, neither people forgot their identity. The deciding Apache factor in this was identity of the mother, descent being reckoned through her. Thus the children of the Oak Creek band chief, ndéndè·z, and his Yavapai wife were termed Yavapai by the Apache, and the son of ndéndè·z, still living at Cottonwood, states that he is Yavapai, not Apache. He, in turn, has married a Southern Tonto woman, and in former times the offspring of the couple would have been Apache.
It is not certain how long Yavapai and Apache have been united in these three bands, but probably the fusion is not a very recent one. At present it is impossible to state which people held the country first. It seems unlikely that the Northern Tonto Apache are merely a result of close contact and intermarriage between Southern Tonto and Yavapai. The supposed difference between Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto speech makes this quite evident. Even the kinship terms are so different that they cause a Southern Tonto to laugh. In many respects the Southern Tonto are closer akin in speech and certain customs to the Cibecue and San Carlos groups. The Apache of the Northern Tonto group were probably different from other Western Apache before they mixed with Yavapai. Within historic times this was the group in the Western Apache division which was considered most differentiated from the others.
Among themselves the band names were used to designate individuals. However, none of these bands were as distinct as those found in the White Mountain and San Carlos groups. In this they resembled the semibands of the Southern Tonto, and a man from the Oak Creek band who settled at Fossil Creek would less likely be referred to as tséhìtcì·ndé· (“horizontal red rock people”) than as a man from the people living at tséhìtcì· (“horizontal red rock”). The Southern Tonto also referred to the people of this group according to the four band names, but nowadays these are not used by either people, as they no longer inhabit their former lands. An interesting overlapping of terms among Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto designated parts of both groups. These were entirely geographical, and such an interuse of terms did not exist between any other two groups of the Western Apache.
All the people living on the top of the Mogollon Rim or north and northeast of it in the high timbered country were called yú·nà·jí’ndé. (“north people”) because they lived to the north. This would include the Mormon Lake band, those of the Oak Creek and Fossil Creek bands who spent most of their time on the Mogollon Rim in the pine-timbered country, and those of the fifth and sixth semibands of the Southern Tonto group who did likewise. All the people living along the foot of the Mogollon Rim from Oak Creek to Promontory Butte, as well as along the foot of the mountains from Promontory Butte to Gisela, were called ndé. itł’áhé (“people below”) because they lived up under the Mogollon Rim and at the foot of the mountains. This included the remainder of the Oak Creek and Fossil Creek bands, those of the fifth semiband who lived under the Mogollon Rim, the remainder of the sixth semiband, and all the second semiband as far south as Gisela.
All those living directly west of the Verde River from Clarkdale south to the mouth of the East Verde River, as well as in the region of the Lower East Verde River, were called yàái’ò·nà’dà’yú·’dndé. (“west people”) because they lived to the west. This included the Yavapai band, dùtł’ìjdà’ìzk’ánndé·’, Bald Mountain band, the Yavapai band on Pine Mountain and Turret Peak, those of the fifth semiband who lived on the Lower East Verde, and the whole fourth semiband. Two other terms, ní’ìłní’dǹdé·‘ (“in the middle people”) and ndé·bìndí’é (“people halfway between”), and a third, bìgìjndé·’ (“people between”), indicate areas which included all the Apache between the Mazatzal Mountains on the west, the Sierra Ancha on the east, the Mogollon Rim on the north between Pine and Promontory Butte, and the present town of Tonto on the south. These terms were applied to them because the Apache were said to be completely surrounded by other people. The area took in the northern half of the Mazatzal band, the northern section of the first semiband, all of the second, third, and fourth semibands, and all the people of the fifth and sixth semibands living south of the Mogollon Rim. These terms had nothing to do with any differences or similarities in speech or custom, though they exemplify a close feeling of geographic association which existed between Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto groups.
The White Mountain, Cibecue, and San Carlos groups called the Northern Tonto collectively dìj·’éʿ, the same name that they applied to the Southern Tonto. They used none of the band names, probably being unaware of them. If they wished to differentiate the Northern Tonto from Southern Tonto, they did so by saying, “Those dìj·’’ who live way up there and are hard to understand when they talk.” They still designate them in the same way, but sometimes they use the modern expression “Camp Verde ǹdé·‘” for Northern Tonto as well as for the Southern Tonto.
American relations with the Northern Tonto are much the same as with the Southern Tonto. Up until 1864, when Camp Verde was established, there was little or no contact with Americans. The Northern Tonto drew their first rations at Camp Verde from the military and seem to have been slightly more friendly than the Southern Tonto were; but trouble broke out between them and the troops, which resulted in skirmishes and some bloodshed. In 1872, at the close of General Crook’s campaign, they came into Camp Verde and settled there peacefully. They suffered slighter losses than the Southern Tonto during these years. In 1875 they were taken to San Carlos Agency with the Southern Tonto and the Yavapai of the region. On the way, hostility arose between the Apache and Yavapai members of the Northern Tonto bands, resulting in a fight between the two peoples. Several were killed, and in the confusion many Apache, both of this group and of the Southern Tonto, ran off, starting back for their old homes. The rest finally arrived at San Carlos and settled along the Gila River below the mouth of the San Carlos River. Here they remained until 1898, and after that many were given permission to go back to their former homes. The majority, sooner or later, returned to the Upper Verde Valley and settled near Camp Verde on Beaver Creek and Fossil Creek. Close to Camp Verde an agency and school was set up for them in 1908 or 1909.
The following pages briefly outline the interrelations of all groups. Only data pertaining to White Mountain Apache relations with other Western Apache groups are given in full.
Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto were always on friendly terms and visited back and forth frequently. Members of the Mormon Lake band often came to the farming site of the fifth semiband at Pine for short stays, and vice versa. There was some intermarriage. The Apache on Fossil Creek, and from the fourth and fifth and sixth semibands of the Southern Tonto, visited each other similarly, intermarrying somewhat also. The remainder of Southern Tonto semibands and those bands of the Northern Tonto not mentioned above, though cognizant of each other, rarely exchanged visits. The same was true of the Northern Tonto and Cibecue groups. The San Carlos and White Mountain groups were known to the Northern Tonto but were remote from them and without contact.
The Southern Tonto had no intercourse with White Mountain Apache, though they knew of them through intermediate peoples. The Cibecue group bordering them on the east was not hostile, but there was very little contact with them, the distinction between the two and mutual suspicion being strongly felt. Much the same attitude is found between the San Carlos group and Southern Tonto, even though peoples inhabiting the southern area of the Southern Tonto territory were contiguous to the Pinal and Apache Peaks bands and sometimes visited them.
Relations between the San Carlos and the Cibecue groups were always friendly, and no cases have been known of any suspicious or hostile feelings. They considered themselves to be closely allied both in language and in custom as well as through the clans common to both. Fairly frequent visiting between them is mentioned, and the Cibecue and Canyon Creek bands often made extended stays in the territory of the Pinal and Arivaipa bands during the winter months in order to be within striking distance of the Pima, Papago, and Mexican settlements and to join the San Carlos people on such raids. Sometimes small parties of Cibecue and Canyon Creek Apache went to the western edge of the Pinal Mountains, camped for a short period within southeastern Yavapai territory, and there combined with these people to raid the above-mentioned enemies.
The White Mountain Apache came in close contact with all Western Apache groups excepting the Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto. Their first contact with them was not until General Crook’s Apache campaign of 1871–73, when White Mountain Apache scouts were enlisted to aid him within the territory of these two groups. Probably the closest association of White Mountain Apache with people of the Cibecue group was between the adjacent Western White Mountain and Carrizo bands. There was some intermarriage between them, and thus certain families living on Cedar Creek and the Carrizo were interrelated; despite this, the two never merged. Although no large-scale hostilities existed, at times there were blood feuds. Such feuds were almost always clan matters, though perhaps more antagonism was roused through group differences. After the establishment of Fort Apache Reservation and the concentration of White Mountain, tcá·tcì·dǹ, and Carrizo bands about the post, occasional trouble arose. The following account by John Rope (Western White Mountain band) will furnish an example. It is interesting to note that, though the tcá·tcì·dǹ were virtually outcasts from the Carrizo band, they sided with the Carrizo people in these affairs.
I heard that the Carrizo people had been drinking all night. That morning I borrowed my brother’s mule to go after the horses. Another man accompanied me. As we rode up the hill, we looked back to the Carrizo camp where many men were drinking tulibai (“gray water”) [a native brew made of soured corn, like a mild beer]. In a little while we heard lots of guns going off at the camp below and thought that there must be fighting and killing there, so we turned back. Soon we met a girl running as fast as she could. She was carrying her clothes, and, when we asked her what was the matter, she didn’t answer, just kept on running. We thought someone must have been killed. From there we went to our camps. When the trouble started, hàcké·łdàsìlà· (“angry right side up”), the great ná·dòts’ùsn [clan] chief, and hàcké·yàniltł’ì·dn (“angry he shakes something”), the tcá·tcì·dǹ chief, were sitting together peacefully watching their people fight. hàcké·łdàsìlà· said, standing up and shouting to his people, “dzìłγ’á boys and ł·nàbà·há boys, be brave! Don’t try to run; go right up to them!” So the tcá·tcì·dǹ chief stood up and said something also, “tłù à dìgaìdn boys and dzìłt’à·dn boys and tcá·tcì·dǹ boys, go right ahead and shoot at them; don’t be afraid!”
All this time the two chiefs were sitting together smoking, while their people were killing each other. Pedro, the tcá·tcì·dǹ chief who had only one eye, was killed there. Two other Cibecue men were killed, one of them being shot by a t’údìłxìłì [clan] chief while he was trying to steal from an Eastern White Mountain camp. In all, nine men from the Cibecue group were killed and two White Mountain men. For this reason a white man [probably Mr. Cooley] went to see the commander of the post and told him the White Mountain people were bad, and on account of this many of our people were killed because he got permission from the officer to let the Carrizo and tcá·tcì·dǹ do it.10 Afterward, we stayed far apart from these people.
Notice, in this instance, that the stress is put on band and group, not on clan as it usually is in feuds.
No real trade existed between the White Mountain Apache and the Cibecue groups, but, when there was a good crop, the White Mountain Apache visited the Cibecue in the fall to obtain gifts of corn from them. Likewise, the Cibecue took advantage of successful White Mountain Apache harvests, especially at Cedar Creek, when their own crop had been poor. Red mineral paint was also obtained from the Cibecue. The two groups frequently visited back and forth, particularly the Western White Mountain and Carrizo bands. They often attended each others’ drinking parties, where friends exchanged presents such as horses with saddles. Every few years chiefs’ councils were held at the home of the most influential chief in the district. Among the White Mountain people the outstanding chiefs of their own group as well as a few of those from the Cibecue and San Carlos groups were invited. Sooner or later, the visiting chiefs reciprocated with similar councils in their territory.
Quite frequently, people of the White Mountain and Cibecue groups combined in warfare against enemies such as the Navaho and Mexicans. In such instances the chief instigating the war party sent invitations to certain chiefs within his and the Cibecue group. These men, if they accepted, came, bringing their following. The Cibecue never stole horses from the White Mountain Apache as the San Carlos group sometimes did.
The San Carlos group, though farther removed from the White Mountain people than the Cibecue, had basically similar relations with them: occasional visits back and forth, with some intermarriage and a general friendly attitude, barring occasional minor troubles. No trade existed between the White Mountain Apache and the San Carlos groups because they belonged to the same division. John Rope says in speaking of them: “They were our friends, our relatives, and, though we gave presents to each other, this was not trade. We didn’t trade with them because they were like us.” However, there were probably exceptions, and one account describes members of the Arivaipa band arriving in Western White Mountain territory shortly after a successful raid in Mexico, bringing cowhides, each done up in a bundle and containing mescal and beef which they wished to trade for acorns, corn, and other foods.
Social intercourse was mainly in the form of visits between chiefs. This is in contrast to visits between all classes among the neighboring Carrizo and Western White Mountain peoples, where it was only a matter of a short ride between camps. During the winter months, when certain of the Western White Mountain people inhabited the southern area of their territory, they sometimes stayed temporarily with people of the Arivaipa band near Arivaipa Canyon. Also, both Eastern and Western White Mountain families quite often journeyed to the valley of the San Pedro in the summer for the saguaro fruit harvest. The Arivaipa were admittedly the owners of this land, and, though glad to have the White Mountain people come, they reserved the right to allot the gathering areas for the fruit. Anna Price mentions this in telling of such a trip: “When we got to San Pedro, hàckí·bánzi’ (“angry, men stand in line for him”), the chief there, told my father, ‘All right, you people can gather saguaro fruit on the east side of the river, and my people will take all the fruit on the west side of the river.’ And that is the way we did.”
There was intermarriage with the Arivaipa, and in regard to this and the general intercourse between the two groups Anna Price says:
The people of hàckí·bánzí’ were our relatives, and their chief called my father his brother because their wives were of the same clan. So we were always friends. The way we became friends was this: my father and his brother had been down to Mexico on a raid. On the way back they stopped with the Arivaipa near Winchester Mountain. That is where my father’s brother married an Arivaipa girl. He stayed there, and my father came home alone, saying his brother was married down there. The children of my father’s brother among the Arivaipa were our relatives from then on. That’s what started our two people being friends [this particular relationship]. This happened long ago before my mother married my father [ca. 1830]. One man is still living at San Carlos who is descended from my father’s brother.
These San Carlos people used to come to visit us at White River. They always came to my father’s place, bringing mescal and saguaro fruit prepared in cakes from their own country. They never traded with our people—just gave things to father. The Pinal and Arivaipa were good friends with all the White Mountain people. We used to give them blankets, corn, and buckskin as presents. We never fought them. The San Carlos band were good friends to my father also. Coyote Hat, their chief, was one of my father’s friends. They came up to visit us at White River sometimes, and we visited them on the San Carlos River as well. We never fought them like the Chiricahua. The people living at Wheat Fields were our relatives. They raised lots of wheat, and we used to get some from them occasionally. Whenever the people from the San Carlos group came to visit us, we told them, “We’ll be down after a while, so prepare some mescal for us.”
It was not uncommon for people of the San Carlos and White Mountain groups to combine in warfare against Navaho, Mexicans, and such enemies, just as with the Cibecue group. Hostilities between the San Carlos and White Mountain groups were nominally nonexistent. At times considerable hard feeling was caused by horse-stealing, the White Mountain Apache accusing the Arivaipa of this offense, particularly when in the southwestern part of their territory near the Arivaipa. Such horse-stealing, the White Mountain people knew, was generally without sanction of the Arivaipa chiefs and leaders, and this knowledge helped considerably to maintain peaceful relations. If an Arivaipa man knew that his chief would not countenance these aggressions, and he still desired to practice them, he moved his family away from his local group. Operating from a convenient location, he brought in the stolen horses, which were consumed before he and his family returned; thus no one was the wiser. The following story from John Rope recounts such an episode.
Charlie Ship’s11 father started from White River with some of his people to gather mescal on the south side of Turnbull Mountain. While they were camped over there, they tied their horses close at night for fear of having them stolen by the Arivaipa. When they had completed preparation of their mescal, they started home. On the way they stopped at Sweetmeat. Here, not fearing the Arivaipa any longer, they merely hobbled their horses close to camp. The next morning when they searched for them, two were gone. They trailed them and found where two men had unhobbled, mounted, and ridden them off toward the head of Salt Creek. On returning, Charlie Ship’s father’s men told him this. He said, “All right, we’ll trail them to their homes, whoever they are. These people [Arivaipa] have done this to us lots of times.”
Charlie Ship’s father and his brother and a third man took the trail, following it to the head of Salt Creek and down Salt Creek to the Gila River. From there the trail led on up to a pass near Stanley Butte. The other two men were almost exhausted, and Charlie Ship’s father was in the lead when he came on the Arivaipa. They had killed one of the horses, roasted it, and were eating the meat. Charlie Ship’s father, a chief, came to them while they were eating, “There are two more men coming right behind me. You’d better leave,” he said. One of the Arivaipa men got up, saying, “I can’t do it. I won’t give you these animals. The łí·nàvà·hé (’people who raid for horses’) [Western White Mountain] people are worth nothing. All you have to do is steal things from them and live on their animals.” As he was still talking, he saw the other two men coming. The second Arivaipa man said, “Let’s leave here right away,” but the first replied, “I won’t do it; I’m not going to give these animals up.” The second told him, “Let’s go,” and he got up and left. The other refused to leave with him and just stood there.
The one who ran off climbed to the top of a hill from where he looked back. When Charlie Ship’s father’s two men arrived, Charlie Ship’s father went around behind the Arivaipa man, in the direction which he might take if trying to escape. The other two stood close to him. Charlie Ship’s father had a gun, and the Arivaipa had a bow in one hand, an arrow in the other. He had his quiver slung on his back. One of the Western White Mountain men carried a quiver also. Charlie Ship’s father said, “I would like to see you eat up all this meat. The man who eats his own meat, he’s the one I call a real man.” The Arivaipa replied, “I ate it because it is my own meat, no one else’s.”
It was because he talked in such an ugly way to Charlie Ship’s father that he got killed right there. If he had not done so, he would have gone free. Charlie Ship’s father said, “Put one more piece of wood on the fire.” He did this because he intended to make the man think he was not angry at him. Then he said, “When that other fellow started to run, you should have run very fast also. “As they stood there, they kept watching each other, ready to shoot the remaining Arivaipa should he make a false move. Then one of the men raised his bow and drew it as if to shoot at him. He did it to draw his attention, and, while the man looked, Charlie Ship’s father shot him with his gun. The Arivaipa spoke his last words, saying, “łí·nàvà·hé, you got me.”
After they killed him, they took the horse’s liver from the fire where it was roasting, and, packing it with the meat on the other horse, they started back. When the Arivaipa remaining on top of the hill saw his companion killed, he ran off home. We heard later that on his arrival he told his people that the łí·nàvà·hé had killed his friend. But one of the Arivaipa told him, “We told you not to go over there, but you said the łí·nàvà·hé were nothing and went there anyway. When you hear crying, don’t you cry.”
On the way back the three Western White Mountain men stopped at the head of Salt Creek for the night. Next morning they got to their camp at Sweetmeat. Charlie Ship’s father ordered, “Hurry up, let’s go!” So they all made for the Eastern White Mountain country, going through Soldiers’ Hole, and from there on north, taking a half-circle in order to come into Turkey Creek. There, they arrived at the home of hàcké·łdàsìlà·. Charlie Ship’s father told this chief what had happened. He replied, “That’s all right. That’s what they wanted. The killing you have done is the fault of the Arivaipa, whether they want to make trouble about it or not.” Charlie Ship’s father was a chief also. He told his trouble to hàcké·łdàsìlà· because he was a very influential man. The reason they had circled back into Turkey Creek was for fear the Arivaipa might be following them.
Next morning hàcké·łdàsìlà· talked to the people, “This is one of our friends who has come to our place because he has killed an Arivaipa. Anyone would have done so. If one of you had a horse stolen, you would catch the thief and do to him the same thing. If the Arivaipa come over after him, we cannot let them take him. He has come here because this is a safe place, so look after him.”
These two chiefs were close friends but not related to each other. Their friendship was due to the fact that Charlie Ship’s father married a bìszáhé woman, a relative [related clan] of this chief. That is why he had gone to him for help. He and his family lived right in the middle of the camps there, and hàcké·łdàsìlà· told his men to bring in their horses for them every morning, not to let them go out after them themselves.
People of the San Carlos band also sometimes stole horses from the White Mountain Apache and extended their horse-stealing to the White River region in the heart of the White Mountain country. The White Mountain people claim that they never did the same to any of the San Carlos group. They also state that there have never been blood feuds between the two groups as with the Cibecue. When asked which groups and bands they feel closest to culturally, the White Mountain usually answer, “Cibecue and San Carlos.” Occasionally, some distinction is made between the various bands in these two groups, as when John Rope stated that his people felt closest to the San Carlos band proper and after that to the Carrizo band. Beyond this the degree of relationship was about equal.
There having been no contact with either Southern Tonto or Northern Tonto in prereservation times, White Mountain Apache generally considered themselves more akin to the Chiricahua division; at present, however, the Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto people hold the closer position since they are living on the San Carlos Reservation, and the Chiricahua are distantly located. In fact, even though the Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto were of the same division as the White Mountain people, Anna Price went so far as to discriminate between them and the remainder of the Western Apache and Chiricahua, saying that the latter two only were ǹdé· (“the people”), the name by which the Apache generally class themselves, as compared to outside tribes such as Pueblo, Yuman, and even Navaho. However, this was more owing to lack of knowledge and contact with the Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto than to actual distinctions based on culture.
The Chiricahua were considered fairly close to the White Mountain people, yet they were of a different division and were held so in the minds of the White Mountain Apache themselves, as is shown in the following statement: “These people living over to the west of us, the Carrizo, Cibecue, and Canyon Creek as well as the San Carlos, Pinal, and Arivaipa, talked as we did. They lived the same way as we, and we were all like one people. But the Chiricahua over to the east of us and down toward the Chiricahua Mountains were different; they didn’t talk as we did.”
The reason for the existence of Western Apache groups is not certain. Some of them undoubtedly have become separated since the time of their arrival within the territory which they occupied in historic times. The San Carlos and Cibecue groups are examples of this. The Southern Tonto seem to be most closely related in culture and possibly speech (though not in intimacy) to the Cibecue and San Carlos groups, but it could not be said that they and the Cibecue had split since arrival in their historic territory. Probably the nucleus of both Cibecue and Southern Tonto groups formed a closely related body of local groups which moved in at the same time. The Western Apache are thus roughly divisible into three parts: first, the Northern Tonto; second, the Southern Tonto, Cibecue, and San Carlos; and, third, the White Mountain Apache. It is impossible to determine the exact position of the Western Apache in prehistoric times, but it seems probable that these three parts each moved into the Western Apache area already separated. Before that, all three may have formed a whole. Migration traditions are not numerous, and what few there are deal wholly with clans.
As has been seen, the band formation within the Western Apache groups varied considerably. The White Mountain possessed the most distinct bands; next, the San Carlos; third, the Cibecue; fourth, the Northern Tonto; and, last of all, the Southern Tonto. Several elements may have influenced these differences. First of all, the one band among the Southern Tonto which bore a name was actually little different in character from the semibands of that group. The four bands of the Northern Tonto might be closely compared to Southern Tonto semibands as well. The three Cibecue bands were a little more distinct but parallel in formation to Southern Tonto semibands. Two of these groups possessed in common the strong tendency to designate according to clan rather than band name. The reason for this may well be that the majority of members of almost all clans in these two groups still remained at sites where they claimed to have originated, or first settled, on entering the country. The clans that concentrated at such sites throughout the area were still the important name units to the local Apache. Among the San Carlos group the clans had almost all migrated into new territory, only one or two of them claiming origin there, and we find them far less localized.
With the White Mountain Apache the existence of strong band classification and less localization of clans than among Cibecue and San Carlos groups is not so readily explained. It is true that the majority of White Mountain clans were no longer centered at the mythical origin sites within their territory but had scattered to other places. Even so, clans were still somewhat localized within the two bands. It must not be thought that San Carlos and White Mountain groups did not use clans as a classification for individuals, for it was their commonest mode of identification. The difference between them and the Cibecue and Southern Tonto lies in the fact that the last two groups used only clan names, whereas the other two used both clan and band names.
The acquiring of horses may also have affected the formation of bands. The Southern Tonto and Northern Tonto had few horses, being far from Mexico and the Pima and Papago settlements. They occasionally raided to the south, but this was not to be compared to the extent of raiding carried on by Cibecue, San Carlos, and White Mountain people. Probably the White Mountain and San Carlos groups raided for and obtained more horses than any of the others, and second to them the Cibecue. This correlates with the relative strength of band formation in the groups. The horse may have served to expand and further scatter the people, and, with intercommunication made easier, clan concentrations at one main location may have somewhat broken down. The size of the respective groups’ territories correspond also, the White Mountain occupying the largest area; second, the San Carlos; third, the Cibecue, and, fourth, Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto, both having approximately the same amount of land. However, these differences cannot be attributed alone to the effect of horse culture or other variations in economic life; population must also be considered.
In prereservation times the White Mountain group probably never numbered over 1,400–1,500, the Cibecue group 1,000, the San Carlos group 900, the Southern Tonto group 900, and the Northern Tonto group 450.12 As far as these figures may be relied on, they compare interestingly with the size of the group territories. That the White Mountain Apache had the largest territory was probably partly owing to their numbers and partly to the use of the horse. The Cibecue group being second in population but third in territory is perhaps explained by the possibility that they practiced more intensive agriculture than any of the others. The population of San Carlos and Southern Tonto groups was almost equal, but their territories were not. The San Carlos territory did not have such a concentrated variety of life and plant zones as the Southern Tonto country had, and consequently less plant foods were available within the same sized area; but the San Carlos practiced the more agriculture of the two and also made greater use of horses. The population of the Northern Tonto group, together with its Yavapai content, amounted at most to 800, probably less. Having very little agriculture, they naturally needed a somewhat larger area in relation to their numbers. All these factors probably controlled the relation between size of territory and size of population.
The placement of the various groups and bands on the San Carlos Reservation has made it a Western Apache melting-pot. There, group and band distinctions have been broken down more than on the Fort Apache Reservation, where the people still retain their old territorial segments. However, group identity is felt, and White Mountain Apache, members of the San Carlos group, and the Southern Tonto group are quick to make distinctions between themselves. This is particularly so of the White Mountain group, who, located at Bylas for the most part, still regard that part of the San Carlos Reservation, originally within their territory, as theirs. The San Carlos Reservation includes none of the land once belonging to the Northern Tonto and Southern Tonto, and the fact that these people are present there is sometimes resented by the San Carlos people.
Today the principal units outside family and extended family are the farming communities around which the people make their permanent homes and from which all stock operations and such things are carried on. These communities on the Fort Apache Reservation are located at Canyon Creek, Cibecue, Carrizo Creek, R 14’s place at Cedar Creek Crossing, Cedar Creek, Canyon Day, North Fork, East Fork, and Turkey Creek. With the exception of the one on North Fork, all are still composed of people of the same group who lived at these places in prereservation times. On the San Carlos Reservation communities are found at Bylas, Calva, Peridot, and Rice or New San Carlos. At several of these places on both reservations more than one community exists. Often adjacent communities join forces during roundup, the only activity that calls for cooperation, although sometimes they maintain their own roundups and other occupations independently. Even though the community may be composed of members from more than one group, each is united by common local interests, problems, and farm ownership. Reminiscent of old times is the rivalry in sports, at rodeos, and at other gatherings, where to win an event over members of another community is more than a personal matter. The same is true of the only old game—hidden-ball—still played, in which there is much rivalry between communities, which are always challenging one another. In former times such rivalry in hidden-ball, hoop-and-poles, shinny, and racing was common between groups, bands, and local groups.
1 H. Hoijer, “The Southern Athapaskan Languages,” American Anthropologist, XL (1938), 86.
2 G. Goodwin, “The Social Divisions and Economic Life of the Western Apache,” American Anthropologist, XXXVII (1935), 55–64.
3 See Appen. A for other European terminology used for the Western Apache.
4 Joseph Antonio de Villa-Señor y Sanchez, “Theatro Americano,” Description general de los reynos y provincias de la Nueva España, y sus jurisdicciones, Part II (Mexico City, 1748).
5 P. E. Goddard, Indians of the Southwest (“American Museum of Natural History: Handbook Series,” No. 2 [New York, 1931], p. 146).
6 M. E. Opler, “An Outline of Chiricahua Apache Social Organization,” in Social Anthropology of North American Tribes, ed. Fred Eggan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1937), pp. 173–242.
7 He probably meant to include both Northern and Southern Tonto by this term.
8 The t’łùà·dìgàidǹ (“people of the row of white canes”) clan has long been centered here, and it is uncertain whether the band’s name is derived from this or from the name of the valley. Quite possibly the former is true, for, according to the legend, the t’łùk’à·dìgàidǹ clan once predominated in this band. The name is used by the White Mountain, Cibecue, and San Carlos groups, but it is sometimes necessary to ascertain whether it included the clan only or all the people living on the Carrizo.
9 See Appens. E and G for descriptive list of clans referred to by numbers.
10 The White Mountain people have a common belief that killings of their people by the tcá·tcì·dǹ and Carrizo were done with the authorities’ permission at Fort Apache, but it is uncertain whether this is true or not.
11 Charlie Ship, an old man of the Eastern White Mountain band, now residing at Canyon Day on White River.
12 See Appen. D for method by which these figures were reached.