The Symbolic Role of Animals in Archaeology 9781949057003

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THE SYMBOLIC ROLE OF ANIMALS IN ARCHAEOLOGY

MASCA Research Papers in Science and Archaeology Series Editor, Kathleen Ryan

MASCA Research Papers in Science and Archaeology

Volume 12,1995

THE SYMBOLIC ROLE OF ANIMALS IN ARCHAEOLOGY

edited by Kathleen Ryan and Pam J. Crabtree

MASCA, University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 1995

Published by Museum Applied Science Center for Archaeology (MASCA) University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology 33rd and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia, PA 19104-6324 Copyright 1995 MASCA ISBN 9781931707060

Cover: Base of Late Bronze Age belt ornament from Denmark (ca. 16 cm in diameter). Rendering by Jennifer Hook after E. Sprockhoff and O. Hockmann, Die gegossenen bronzebecken der jiingeren nordischen Bronzezeit (Romisch-GermanischesZentralmuseum, Mainz, 1983), fig. 142.

CONTENTS

Foreword Pam J. Crabtree and Kathleen Ryan

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Animals Good to Think: Bronze Age Scandinavia and Ohio Hopewell Janet E. Levy

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The Symbolic Role of Animals in Anglo-Saxon England: Evidence from Burials and Cremations Pam J. Crabtree

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Bear, Elk, and Fish Symbolism in Finnish Contexts Deborah J. Shepherd

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Altered States: Human- Animal Transformational Images in Dorset Art Genevieve LeMoine, James Helmer, and Don Hanna

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Why Chickens? The Centrality of the Domestic Fowl in West African Ritual and Magic Kevin C. MacDonald Bedouin Animal Sacrifice Practices: Case Study in Israel Joel D. Klenck

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Dinner in Buqata: The Symbolic Nature of Food Animals and Meal Sharing in a Druze Village Bill Grantham

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Pork on the Southern Coastal Plain: Nutrition or Symbol?

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The Spanish Bullfight: Some Historical Aspects, Traditional Interpretations, and Comments of Archaeozoological Interest for the Study of Ritual Slaughter Lola Carmen Morales Muñiz and Arturo Morales Muñiz

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Elizabeth J. Reitz

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FOREWORD

her colleagues, on the other hand, argue for strong continuity in the tradition of human-animal images in circumpolar art and ritual. MacDonald examines the roles of chickens in West African magic and ritual. He notes that chickens were introduced into West Africa relatively recently, but that they have come to play a central role in religious practices. McDonald suggests that chickens were introduced to the region through elite trading networks and hypothesizes that their symbolic value may reflect their initial rarity in relation to the native African guineafowl. Both Klenck's and Grantham's papers are based on ethnoarchaeological research in the Near East. Klenck examines Bedouin animal sacrifices to determine the effects of these sacrifices on animal carcasses. Based on his ethnographic observations in a Druze village, Grantham argues that the choices of animal species and body part served at meals represent a form of symbolic communication. He notes that meals are not mere subsistence activities; instead they represent a complex, symbol-laden social activity. Reitz also emphasizes the symbolic role of dietary choices in her analysis of the consumption of pork on the U.S. southern coastal plain. She notes that although a wide variety of archival sources characterize the South as the "Republic of Porkdom," Southerners frequently ate more beef than pork. She examines the discrepancies between the historical sources and the faunal evidence in relation to the symbolic role of pork in the nineteenth century American South. In the final paper in this volume, Morales Muniz and Morales Muniz provide detailed information on the ritual use of cattle in bullfighting. While their data are primarily historic and ethnographic, they suggest that these data may be useful in the future interpretation of archaeozoological assemblages. The papers in this volume represent a range of approaches to the study of symbolic roles of animals in human cultures. The theme that unites these papers is their use of a variety of different kinds of evidence—including archaeological, faunal, historical, ethnographic, artistic, and folkloric data—in the reconstruction of animal symbolism. Through the use of multiple and interrelated lines of evidence, they illustrate what Taylor (1948) once termed

Archaeological theory has undergone profound changes during the past ten years. While research conducted within the processual paradigm has produced much important new information on past human economy, technology, and subsistence practices, processual archaeologists have traditionally shown less interest in reconstructing prehistoric ideologies and belief systems. The call for increasing investigation of past belief systems has been one of the main points of the post-processual critique. The analysis of animal bone remains recovered from archaeological sites provides an important case in point. Faunal remains have been widely used to reconstruct the scavenging and/or hunting behaviors of pre-modern humans, to study the process of animal domestication, and to examine the ways in which rural farmers supplied ancient city dwellers with meat and animal products. Despite the wealth of historical and ethnographic evidence for the symbolic significance of animals in past and present human cultures, far less attention has been paid to the symbolic roles that animals played in ancient societies. This volume represents an initial attempt to redress the balance. The papers in this volume use a variety of different kinds of data—including faunal remains, animal imagery, ethnographic information, folklore, and historical data—in an attempt to explore the symbolic roles of animals in various human cultures. The first two papers in the series are based, at least in part, on archaeological data from Europe. Levy compares images of animals on pottery, metal, bone, and stone artifacts from the Scandinavian Bronze Age and Ohio Hopewell. She shows that the diversity of animal images from the Scandinavian Bronze Age is low, while a wide range of different animal symbols is present in Ohio Hopewell art. Crabtree compares animals present in AngloSaxon settlement sites in England with those recovered from cemeteries. She shows that horses played an important role in funerary rituals, despite their low proportions in settlement contexts. Both the article by Shepherd and the contribution by LeMoine, Helmer, and Hanna focus on animal images in relation to shamanistic practices and (in the case of Shepherd's study) animistic beliefs. Shepherd examines changes in the symbolic roles of elk, bear, and fish through time in Finland, basing her arguments on a combination of archaeological evidence and oral traditions. LeMoine and

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the "conjunctive approach" and what Hodder (1992) now terms the "contextual approach" to archaeological interpretation. Pam J. Crabtree Kathleen Ryan

References Hodder, I. 1992. Reading the Past, 2nd ed. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Taylor, W. W. 1948. A Study of Archaeology. Memoirs of the American Anthropological Association, No. 69.

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ANIMALS GOOD TO THINK: BRONZE AGE SCANDINAVIA AND OHIO HOPEWELL

Janet E. Levy Department of Sociology, Anthropology, and Social Work, University of North Carolina at Charlotte, Charlotte, NC 28223

ABSTRACT Both Ohio Hope well and Bronze Age Scandinavia can be characterized as complex middlerange societies with prestige goods economies associated with ritual deposits. Animal symbols are important in the iconographic systems of both prehistoric cultures and are found on objects of pottery, metal, bone, and stone. The form and context of these animal symbols are compared and analyzed. In Bronze Age Scandinavia, the diversity of animal symbols is low; in Ohio Hopewell, diversity is high. These symbols are analyzed by reference to Turner* s concept of multivocality, Helms' s ideas about exotic materials and ritual power, and Rappaport's analysis of ambiguous religious discourse.

Introduction The prehistoric records of the woodlands of the eastern United States and of temperate Europe share some striking commonalities. In both locations, so-called "middle-range" societies, labeled "ranked" or "tribe" or "chiefdom" in various taxonomies, dominated significant parts of prehistory. In this paper, I will discuss the use of animal symbols in material culture in two of these middle-range societies: Bronze Age Denmark (with some data from adjacent areas of Scandinavia) and Ohio Hopewell. This analysis is meant to illuminate both the role of animal symbolism in two specific prehistoric cultures and more general issues of the interrelationships among ritual, exchange, and social organization in middle-range societies. My underlying assumption about the use of animal symbols resembles the assumptions of many who write about animal motifs in prehistoric art. That is, while animal motifs may be related, in part, to ecological conditions and subsistence strategies, their main function can best be expressed (with apologies to Levi-Strauss): Animals are at least as important to think about as to eat. Their use in art, myth, and legend tells us something important about social relations and social values. While the archaeological evidence reveals that Ohio Hopewell people and Danish Bronze Age people used different patterns of animal symbols in their visual art, both patterns provided opportunities for manipulation of ritual themes and social positions.

Such social flexibility, fluctuation, and change are typical of middle-range societies. Archaeological background The main part of the Bronze Age in Scandinavia dates to approximately 1500-700 B.C. (e.g., Montelius Periods II-V), while Ohio Hopewell dates to approximately A.D. 1-400. These two prehistoric cultures share several characteristics visible in the archaeological record: earthen mounds; long-distance acquisition of exotic materials; some version of a prestige goods economy; ritual deposits made both with burials and separate from burials (i.e., in hoards or caches); and at least some cultivation of domesticated crops. They differ in the degree of reliance on cultivation and in the role of animals in the economy: in Scandinavia, domesticated crops and animals dominate the subsistence record while no domesticated animals except dogs existed in prehistoric Ohio and limited horticulture was balanced with hunting and foraging (see Coles and Harding 1979:277-330, 491-532 for an overview of Bronze Age Scandinavia; see Pagan 1991:369-380 and Brose and Greber 1979 for an overview of Hopewell archaeology). There is considerable debate about the nature of the social systems in both areas. Bronze Age Scandinavia is frequently identified as a series of classic chiefdom societies with ranking expressed in the variable wealth of burials

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Fig. 1: Late Bronze Age razor from Denmark showing animal-headed boat and other stylized figures; approximately 10 cm long. Drawing by Jennifer Hook from Broholm 1953:fig. 156.

(e.g., Randsborg 1974; Larsson 1986); Kristiansen (1984) would make this a society with considerable social stratification. Hopewell has been identified as "tribal," as a "big man society," as a "chiefdom," and so forth. Greber (1979) discusses the potential variability and diversity in Ohio Hopewell social systems. In both areas, mortuary evidence is considerably richer than evidence of domestic habitation, and the relative lack of habitation evidence creates problems for all arguments about social stratification.1 In fact, it is striking that several of the large Ohio Hopewell enclosures and mound groups are more elaborate than virtually any Scandinavian Bronze Age mound group. Yet my understanding of the literature suggests that Bronze Age Denmark is usually seen as more stratified than Ohio Hopewell. Assuming that this judgement is not based on unconscious ethnocentric assumptions about the earlier development of "civilization" in Europe, it may result from the evidence of more complex metallurgy and much more intensive agriculture in Scandinavia than in Ohio. While developed agriculture has greater potential for production of surplus than most economies based in part or in whole on wild resources, the archaeological evidence is, at best, ambiguous about the control of surplus in either area. Similarly, while some specialized craft production clearly exists in both areas, evidence is unclear about who controls this production; almost certainly, specialization is part-time in both cases. These are clearly societies with social differentiation and some ranking, but the degree and significance of stratification remains to be established for both.

addition, there are some three-dimensional metal representations of animals, both free-standing and attached to other objects. The most famous is the Danish "sun-chariot," pulled by a horse and dating to Period II, ca. 1450 B .C. (Fig. 3). There is a comparable find, although less well preserved, from Sweden of the same period. In addition to relatively complete representations, there are animal parts included in or attached to other objects: e.g., horns on bronze ceremonial helmets. In addition to metal objects, a small number of carved bone combs are decorated with stylized animal motifs and these motifs also appear in rock carvings. The latter are more common in Norway and Sweden and much less common in Denmark.2 Finally, there are very rare animal representations in pottery (the only one I know of is a pot in a stylized bird shape, minus a head). Although there are artifacts made of bone and antler, there is no use of animal bones, teeth, or antler as ornaments that preserve the morphology of the animal part. The range of animals is quite narrow: horses, birds, snakes, and horned animals (and, very rarely, fish). In addition, there are anomalous or stylized versions of these creatures that may represent fantasy or monstrous animals or may represent some aesthetic of abstraction: variations on a "dragon" form seem to be animals with combined characteristics of snakes, birds, and horses (Fig. 1). In general, the animal motifs are simplified and stylized, especially when compared to the Hopewell material. Almost all of the objects with animal motifs come from what are generally identified as ritual contexts, in particular burials and hoards or votive deposits. Nevertheless, many of the objects were certainly worn in life before being deposited. There is reasonably good evidence that many of the wearable objects were sumptuary goods (Levy 1979). Animal motifs appear on objects associated with men (e.g., helmets, razors) and with women (e.g., neckrings, belt ornaments), as well as on items that can be considered potentially "non-gendered" (e.g., brooches, the sun-chariot, or the gold cups). Horned images seem to be preferentially associated with males; for example, phallic figures wear-

Animal motifs Bronze Age Scandinavia In Denmark and adjacent areas, the most visible specialized craft is metallurgy of bronze and gold. Most animal representations are engravings on flat or convex surfaces of bronze personal ornaments, including razors (Fig. 1), neckrings, and diverse belt ornaments (Fig. 2). In

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Fig. 2: Base of Late Bronze Age belt ornament from Denmark; the original is about 16 cm in diameter. Drawing by Jennifer Hook from Sprockhoff and Hockmann 1983:fig. 142.

Fig. 3: The so-called "sunchariot" from Trundholm, Denmark, dating to the Early Bronze Age; the sun disc has a diameter of approximately 25 cm. Photograph courtesy of the National Museum of Denmark, Copenhagen.

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ing horned helmets are relatively common on rock carvings in Sweden (illustrated, Glob 1970:171) and are also known on a few bronzes. However, one well-known Late Bronze Age hoard contains several small, three-dimensional figures, each with a flange at the base suggesting they once were all set into a holder of some kind; the figures include a snake, a bird, four horned mammals which also resemble horses, and a kneeling female human (Fig. 4). Finally, the animal representations frequently merge with human-made objects; for example, representations of boats are sometimes given horse-head or snake-head prows (Fig. 1; see also illustrations in Jensen 1982:177; unfortunately, no remains of real boats survive, so we do not know if they had animal-head prows as did much later Viking boats). The origins of these motifs have been discussed for over a century. Central European Urnfield and Hallstatt cultures are often proposed as the sources (e.g., Kossack 1954). It has frequently been argued that the bird motifs, in particular, originate in central Europe and were brought to Scandinavia on imported bronze cauldrons (as illustrated in Coles and Harding 1979:513). The use of a horse figure in art, however, cannot be easily traced to a specific origin outside Scandinavia beyond evoking generalized IndoEuropean affiliations. It is my opinion that this debate about origins of motifs says more about European prehistorians' historic predilection to believe "ex oriente lux" than it does about the actual origins of specific motifs. In fact, in a number of cases, an animal head is represented which cannot be easily distinguished as horse, bird, or snake; it seems as if motifs have been assimilated to each other.

Fig. 4: Figurines from a Late Bronze Age hoard from Denmark; the kneeling female is about 4 cm tall. Photograph courtesy of the National Museum of Denmark, Copenhagen.

Ohio Hopewell In Ohio Hopewell, animal representations were made in carved and polished stone, mica, copper, antler, and on pottery. Three-dimensional representations are common; the best known are the large number of effigy pipes (Fig. 5). Flat cut-outs were made of sheet mica (Fig. 6) and sheet copper, and motifs are inscribed on pottery (Pagan 1991:371; Greber and Ruhl 1989:105). The three-dimensional motifs, in general, are realistic and detailed while the cut-outs are more abstracted and frequently represent parts of animals such as claws or horns. In addition, actual parts of animals, especially jaws and teeth, were used as ornaments or parts of masks while retaining their identifiable morphology (Greber and Ruhl 1989:222). A great diversity of animals is represented: birds including raptors, song birds, and water birds; mammals including bear, squirrel, beaver, canid, deer, and others; and occasional reptiles and fish. The famous "monster" from the Turner Mounds is mentioned often, and Greber and Ruhl (1989:204-205, 281-282) discuss the blending of different animals into anomalous figures. However, these anomalous motifs seem to be proportionally less

common than in Bronze Age Scandinavia. Snakes are also infrequent in Hopewell, strikingly so given their significance in later Mississippian visual art.3 Virtually all of these objects come from apparently ritual deposits; some are associated with individual burials, some are from large or small caches within ceremonial mounds that seem to cover charnel houses and other mortuary facilities. Most scholars are inclined to consider the pipes ritual objects during their use-life, based on ethnohistoric and ethnographic data about smoking. Many of the cut-outs and perforated animal teeth and bones could have been worn attached to clothing or as part of masks and headdresses. In general, as in Scandinavia, the objects were used before deposition; Greber (Greber and Ruhl 1989:219) suggests that many of the pipes have the appearance of well-used, repaired personal possessions. It is difficult to distinguish gender associations for the Ohio Hopewell artifacts. Many of the animal artifacts are found in large caches. Even where objects are associated with individual burials, skeletal analyses are relatively limited (but see Konigsberg 1985) and the vagaries of nineteenth century curation have often separated the arti-

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Fig. 5: Stone effigy pipes from Ohio Hopewell sites; each about 10 cm high. Photograph courtesy of the Ohio Historical Society.

facts from the bones. Both males and females received mound burial and both could be accompanied by grave goods of various exotic materials, so it is likely that animal motifs are associated with both males and females. But there is no evidence about whether certain animals were preferentially associated with one gender or the other. Comparisons While a quantitative analysis of the animal motifs is beyond the scope of this paper,4 there are several broad similarities in use of animal motifs in these two areas. For example, in both areas, animal motifs are used in both wearable objects (such as personal ornaments) and "handleable" objects (such as pipes or drinking cups). In both areas, both flat and three-dimensional representations are utilized. In both areas, both local materials (e.g., clay, animal bone) and exotic materials (e.g., mica, copper/ bronze) are utilized. Communal artifacts with animal motifs—in particular, the drinking equipment—seem more common in Bronze Age Scandinavia than in Ohio (although this may depend on whether one agrees that the numerous Hopewell pipes are personal items). In contrast, masks and headdresses seem more common in Ohio although the Scandinavian rock carvings (e.g., Coles and Harding 1979:pl. 24b) suggest that horned headdresses may have been more common than actual finds reveal. The most noticeable difference between the two areas is the much greater diversity represented in Ohio Hopewell, diversity both in styles of representation and in species of

Fig. 6: Mica cut-out of raptorial bird claw, Ohio Hopewell; 28 cm long. Photograph courtesy of the Ohio Historical Society.

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pulling plows in the rock carvings, many of the horned figures have more cervid than bovine characteristics. Sheep, pig, dog, and fish, all of which turn up in middens, are never (or almost never, in the case of fish) represented in art. With Hopewell, there is also a paucity of published faunal evidence from domestic sites. The general patterns of faunal exploitation in the eastern Woodlands from the Archaic through late prehistoric times suggest that Hopewell subsistence relied on deer, turkey, turtle, fish, and small mammals (e.g., Pagan 1991:307,313,345-346; Aschetal. 1979; Munson 1988). Dogs were probably also familiar in domestic settings; they were certainly domesticated in North America long before Hopewell. Bones of many of these animals are found in deposits on the floor of ritual structures underneath large Hopewell mounds. Seeman (1979) suggests these are remains of ritual meals, "feasting with the dead." These ritual meals are dominated by deer according to Seeman, but bear is also represented. Baby and Langlois (1979) suggest that some animal bones from the Seip site are associated not with ritual meals nor with domestic structures, but with specialized workshops; these include the predictable turkey, squirrel, fish, and deer, but also grey fox, salamander, prairie chicken, and skunk. There are few clear connections between animals eaten and animals used in art except for deer which dominate the faunal record and are also frequently used in art. Bears are very important in art, but may not have occurred in daily subsistence and are a small part of ritual feasts. Turkeys are not represented in art but were eaten; raptors are extensively represented in art, but were probably not eaten. Some anthropological analyses of animal motifs in art (in particular, mythology) suggest that animal motifs are about symbolic oppositions between wild and tame or between bush and village (e.g., Tambiah 1969). Greber and Ruhl (1989:277f.) suggest that deer and bear may represent a complementary duality in Hopewell ideology, but this cannot be a simple contrast between wild and tame or between edible and non-edible because both were hunted and, at least in ritual feasts, both were eaten. It is conceivable that the wild birds and snakes in Bronze Age iconography contrasted with domesticated horses and cattle, but this is difficult to establish; the animals are frequently so abstracted that a single animal head may resemble both bird and horse. What the evidence does suggest is that it is unlikely, in either case, that the animal representations directly or simply reflect subsistence practices or ecological setting.

animals represented. In addition, realistic representations are more common in Ohio Hopewell, while simplified and abstracted representations are more common in the Bronze Age material. Approaches to interpretation The anthropological literature about animals in art (visual art, myth, and performance) is dominated by two themes: hunting and totemism. Many ethnologists who have written on the subject focus on long-standing and historically significant debates about totemism, fetishism, and social structure, especially kinship structure. More recently, some ethnologists have suggested that animal motifs can be better understood in relation to cultural ideas about life cycle changes rather than about static kin groups (e.g., papers in Urton 1985). Several ethnologists are interested in relations between animals in myth and native systems of biological classification (e.g., Tambiah 1969; Ellen and Reason 1979). The imagery of wild and/or hunted animals dominates most discussions, in part because of the strong influence of Levi-Strauss's analysis of aboriginal South American societies. Archaeological discussions of animal motifs emphasize Paleolithic art and the ethnographic analogue of Australian aboriginal culture (see several papers in Morphy 1989); the emphasis on wild/hunted animals is obvious here as well. While these studies of the Paleolithic may provide some guidelines for interpreting Ohio Hopewell animal imagery, they are less illuminating in approaching the Bronze Age where domesticated animals overwhelmingly dominate the faunal record. Many of these studies also depend on detailed analysis of contemporary myth and native taxonomic systems, both of which are inaccessible for the prehistoric case. Lacking the testimony of informants, I will begin analysis of the Bronze Age and Hopewell animal imagery by considering archaeological subsistence evidence and direct-historical ethnographic evidence. Subsistence In both cases, the relationship between animal motifs used in visual art and animals used in subsistence is complex. Systematic analysis of faunal remains is limited for Bronze Age Scandinavia (Rasmussen and Adamsen 1993), but where analyzed, fauna are dominated by cattle, sheep, and pig. For example, modern excavations at the Late Bronze Age site of Voldtofte yielded 1,359 identifiable fragments, including 82% cattle, 11% pig, 5% sheep, 2% horse, 0.2% dog, andO. 1 % red deer (Berglund 1982:62) Snakes do not appear at all in settlement reports, although a small number of swans and other birds, as well as cod, flounder, and garfish, have been reported from turn-of-thecentury excavations (Winge 1919). Antler artifacts are also known. In contrast, horse, snake, and bird dominate art and, while a few representations of horned cattle are shown

Ethnographic analogy Another tempting strategy for illuminating the specific meanings of these motifs is to turn to ethnohistoric and direct-historical ethnographic accounts. I am torn between trust and skepticism when it comes to such ethnographic illumination. For Scandinavia we can turn to the literary

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pher; these are difficult to discern through archaeology and even through ethnographic analogy, as noted above. However, the archaeologist has a better hope of analyzing positional and operational meanings. "Positional meanings" are revealed by relations between and among important symbols as they are displayed in oral or visual form. For the archaeologist, evidence of positional meanings can be found in artifacts that combine motifs such as the Danish sun-chariot that combines a sun disc and a horse, or some kind of stand that supported snake, horned animals, and female figure, shown in Fig. 4 above. Similarly, in Hopewell, positional meanings may be revealed in multiple animals represented on the same object, such as the roseate spoonbill and fish shown on a pipe from the Hopewell mounds (Greber and Ruhl 1989:214). Positional meanings could also be revealed by animals of one species carved on bones of another, such as the feline carved on bird bone from Hopewell (ibid.:242); or by combinations of characteristics of several animals in one figure, such as a bird's beak found associated with horns on a bone carving from Hopewell (ibid.:250-251). Turner's third kind of meaning, "operational meanings," are those revealed by relationships among people who are handling or expressing symbols during ritual activities. Operational meanings may not be consciously recognized by participants, but they reveal social relationships. The archaeologist cannot directly observe the performances in which prehistoric people manipulated symbols. However, patterns of deposition of artifacts, particularly artifacts that can be associated with individuals or groups of people, will reveal some operational meanings: for example, the association of certain artifacts or motifs with individuals judged high-ranking based on other evidence (such as quantity of grave goods) will reveal interrelationships of status and ritual. The archaeologist often faces a dilemma in disentangling operational and positional meanings. In life, positional meanings may have been revealed not only on single artifacts but also in the patterned display of numerous artifacts (e.g., a concurrent display of one pipe with a bird effigy and one pipe with a mammal effigy). Because such patterns of prehistoric usage can only be approached through patterns of artifact deposition, it may be difficult to differentiate depositional patterns that reveal positional meanings from those that reveal operational meanings. For example, Greber and Ruhl (1989:275f.) point out that phallic-shaped objects and dome-shaped objects were deposited in separate contexts in one of the Hopewell mounds, while mica and copper were separated into different caches in another mound. This is "positional" evidence in the sense that it relies on patterns in the positioning of artifacts, but it may reflect either operational or positional meanings in Turner's sense. The contrast between mica and copper may be positional, that is internal to the symbol system

references of the pre-Viking and Viking periods, ca. A.D. 500-1200, which provide us with information about much the same range of animal motifs as earlier in the Bronze Age (Todd 1987; Foote and Wilson 1970). Horses and birds turn up; of course, the World Snake is a significant animal motif in Viking art; and horned animals appear as well. So there are some strong continuities. Nevertheless, Viking mythology also focuses on a ferocious wolf, and Viking art is replete with representations of the anomalous "gripping beast," neither of which have parallels in the earlier Bronze Age. For Hopewell, we can turn to ethnohistoric and ethnographic evidence from the eastern Woodlands, ca. A.D. 1500-1900, which provide a rich array of mythology featuring animals. Frequently, animals are conceived of as totems and/or spirit emissaries to the supernatural world, but they also symbolize many human values and conditions. For example, among the Cherokee, the bald eagle represents peace; the spider, fire and sun; the snake, lightning, thunder, and rain. The bear and deer both represented kin groups and the bear also represented an anomalous, powerful, and somewhat frightening figure who crossed the boundary between human and animal (Hudson 1976). Yet I am still doubtful about making connections between certain prehistoric art motifs and specific historical meanings. Among other things, it is difficult for me to see the symbolic identity between the rather benign-looking snake forms of Bronze Age art and the fierce Viking World Snake. More important is the reality of culture change. It is clear that there is both continuity and change in animal symbols between Hopewell and Mississippian times (e.g., raptors continue, but snakes dramatically gain in importance in the latter period). Similarly, Viking art contains some animal motifs that are similar and some that are different from those of the Bronze Age. Thus, it is certainly tricky, if not impossible, to use these historical/ ethnographic data to identify specific symbolic meanings. It is just such a consideration of culture change and regional variation that is lacking from Hall' s (1979) pioneering analysis of Hopewell iconography using ethnographic analogy. A more general perspective Although I am dubious about identifying specific mythological meanings in these representations, I am not willing to abandon the historic and ethnographic evidence altogether. Rather than seeking specific correlations between motif and cultural value or supernatural being, it is more convincing to link animal motifs to more general ritual and symbolic themes. Turner (1969) draws our attention to the "multivocality" of symbols, specifying three kinds of meanings that symbols may have: exegetical, positional, and operational. "Exegetical meanings" are specific and arbitrary symbolic meanings (e.g., the eagle stands for peace) that require a native informant to deci-

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suggest such a complementary pattern from separate deposits of phallic objects and dome-shaped objects in one of the Hopewell mounds, while a range of evidence suggests this pattern in Bronze Age Denmark (Levy 1992). Keeping in mind Turner's emphasis on the multivocality of ritual symbols, it is likely that positional meanings, such as upper world/lower world, existed intertwined with operational meanings such as male/female. These intertwined themes would strengthen, and also complicate each other. For the Bronze Age material it is likely that other important operational meanings revolved around rank and influence. The metal objects are found in ranked sumptuary sets (Levy 1979), associated with burials and hoards of greater and lesser wealth (Randsborg 1974). The distributions of grave form and grave goods suggest that similar operational meanings about rank were probably also true of some Hopewell sites. It is also likely that other kinds of relationships among and between kin groups, or groups defined in some other way, were being expressed in the distribution of ritually significant artifacts in Hopewell sites. For example, Greber (1979) suggests that the burials from the Turner Burial Place (within the Turner Mounds complex) form two components not hierarchically related, while the burials from Seip Mound 1 represent three social components that are hierarchically related. If rank, influence, and power are part of the operational meanings of these animal-decorated objects, these themes would be enhanced by manufacture from exotic materials such as copper, bronze, mica, and stone. Mary Helms (1979,1988) effectively demonstrates how exotic materials, from real far-away places, reinforce symbolic references to supernatural realms, which are ideologically faraway places. Furthermore, Helms shows that those who control objects made of exotic materials and symbolizing supernatural places demonstrate their control of esoteric knowledge and, through such knowledge, control of the basic workings of the world and society. Thus, the allusion to esoteric knowledge may enhance secular rank and power. Such allusions, through manipulation of exotic materials, will also enhance symbolic references to and control of a supernatural Upper World and Lower World.

(e.g., white/yellow or water/fire); or the contrast may be operational, that is reflecting different groups of humans manipulating the objects (e.g., males/females or clan A/ clan B); or both. This is frustrating but probably predictable given the general difficulties of analyzing prehistoric iconography. In these two cases specifically, I propose that it is likely that the positional meanings reflect ideas about different and complementary realms of the universe. This is based both on evidence of various dualities and pairings of motifs—e.g., copper/mica, bear/deer, horse/snake—and on general patterns found in the direct-historical documentary evidence. In the historic evidence in both Scandinavia and in the eastern United States, different animals were associated with different realms of the universe. For example, natives of the southeastern United States distinguished three levels or parts of the universe: this world, the Upper World, and the Lower World (Hudson 1976). Each had affiliated animals: birds for the Upper World; snakes, fish, reptiles, etc. for the Lower World; and humans and mammals for this world. In Viking Scandinavia, the iconography is not as explicit, but the World Snake represents the underworld, while horned creatures are affiliated with the sky and upper world, and horses were sacrificed in this world to communicate with other realms (Todd 1987). Further, in both historic cases, water is associated with the snake and lower world while sun is, not surprisingly, associated with the upper world. Thus, although exact mythological meanings will probably always elude us, I propose accepting animal motifs as reflecting ideas about different realms of the universe. Sometimes motifs are opposed and sometimes they are melded, but in both cases they make up part of the ritual understanding of how the universe is structured. Similar conceptions of different tiers of the universe, associated with different animals, are widespread in diverse human cultures (Kesby 1979:39^2). All of these motifs may also relate to fertility and the opposition between life and death. Clearly, mortuary rituals were significant in both cultures. In the Danish Bronze Age, the ritual plowing of ground under burial mounds (Randsborg 1984) and the finds of sickles in the apparently votive hoards support the suggestion that agricultural fertility is also an important ritual concern. The evidence for fertility concerns is less clear in Hopewell; I would be surprised if fertility was not a ritual concern, but I cannot point to specific evidence other than the representation of many (but not all) food animals. Along with positional meanings referring to complementary realms of the universe and, possibly, complementary themes of life (fertility) and death (mortuary rituals), the deposition of artifacts in these cases may also reveal operational meanings which refer to complementary relations of male and female. Greber and Ruhl (1989:275f.)

Discussion At this point, Bronze Age and Hopewell sound rather alike: animal motifs found on objects of exotic materials, referring to opposed or complementary realms of the universe, and expressing ideas about fertility, life, death, and power. And, indeed, I suspect they shared a number of these symbolic themes, and that these themes are found in middle-range societies generally. The animal motifs are part of a symbolic interpretation of world order used in social and ritual interactions. Nevertheless, the animal motifs in these two cases do not look alike. As noted above, Hopewell art includes a

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in contrast to the more realistic, sculpted effigy pipes from Hopewell. It is notable that the most realistic Danish images are the relatively uncommon three-dimensional figurines which were presumably created by lost-wax casting. However, while technological limitations probably had an influence on styles of representation, this still begs the question of why such technologies were chosen. In addition to the influence of differing subsistence systems and craft technologies, the differences in animal symbolism must derive from a combination of specific historical, ecological, and social factors that remain to be fully illuminated. Nevertheless, I wish to close by emphasizing the level of similarity rather than the differences in these two cases. Although the systems of iconography are different in a number of ways, these alternative uses of animal motifs are similar in that they both provide potentially ambiguous and flexible symbol systems. Such ambiguity creates strategies for manipulating social roles and positions. Even in state societies, social status is not always fixed but is subject to negotiation and manipulation; this is even more true in middle-range societies of the types labeled "big man," "tribal, "ranked," and "chiefdom." Our difficulties in deciding the degree of stratification remind us of the continuing fluctuation, flexibility, and change in these social systems (see Earle 1991 and Anderson 1990 for discussions of fluctuation and cyclical change in stratification within chiefdoms more generally). Rappaport (1971:7 If.), more than 20 years ago, pointed out that one of the characteristics of religious discourse is that it is cryptic and ambiguous. Thus, it can be reinterpreted as needed. Wiessner (1990) makes the same point about the uses of decorative style in different cultures. In this paper, I am discussing decorative styles utilized in ritual contexts. Rappaport emphasizes the need for flexibility and reinterpretation arising from changing ecological conditions, but the same ambiguity provides flexibility in the social sphere and allows considerable social jockeying by individuals through manipulation of ritual themes, motifs, and presentations. In Hopewell, it seems that the room for ambiguity and, thus, for manipulation and reinterpretation comes from a plethora of symbolic forms and themes in animal motifs, including multiple species and styles of representation. In contrast, in the Bronze Age material, the room for manipulation seems to come from the vagueness and cryptic nature of the animal motifs which, thus, can be subject to innovative reinterpretations. And, in both cases, flexibility and ambiguity may be created by the complex intersections of exegetical, positional, and operational meanings. In either case, the production of symbolically important objects and participation in ritual practice will provide arenas for negotiation of meaning and social status. We should not worry that we cannot delineate specific mythological meanings for these motifs, because

much greater diversity of animals and uses more realism than Bronze Age art. What can these differences mean? From one theoretical perspective, suggested by Leone (1982), one could make the argument that the Bronze Age material reflects greater stratification than that of Hopewell. This argument begins by noting how abstract and simplified the Bronze Age motifs are compared to Hopewell's realism. Hopewellians frequently recorded morphological detail in animals with a realism that is lacking in the Scandinavian material. In the Bronze Age supernatural world, the animals have become phantoms, frequently recognizable simply as animals but not as any particular animal. The abstraction and simplification of visual motifs creates more "mystification" in the supernatural animal world of the Bronze Age than in Hopewellian Ohio. Leone (1982:749) suggests that such mystification reflects a stratified social system because such systems require masking (or mystification) of social inequality through symbolic systems that emphasize the esoteric and mysterious knowledge needed by elites. From a different theoretical perspective, proposed by Bradley (1985), one could make the argument that the greater diversity and naturalness of Hopewell animal imagery reflects more stratification in the Hopewellian social system than in the Bronze Age. In this perspective (see also papers in Urton 1985), elites in stratified systems work to "naturalize" and, therefore, stabilize social positions in the living world by representing them as somehow part of nature. Thus, manipulating and controlling realistic representations of natural species could emphasize the naturalness and the power of elite positions. However, a judgment of "more stratified" or "less stratified" probably grossly oversimplifies the analysis of these prehistoric social systems, especially in the light of gaps in the archaeological data about settlement systems. One reason for the differences in animal symbolism between Bronze Age and Hopewell may be the difference between a fully agricultural people who simplified their ecosystem and a culture which had had much less impact on the landscape and experienced a more diverse natural environment. The mix of hunting, gathering, and horticulture that is typical of Hopewell yields more diversity of subsistence resources than the well-established plow agriculture in the Bronze Age. The pollen evidence suggests that human activity had modified and opened up the landscape more in Bronze Age Denmark, especially in western Denmark (Jensen 1982:132-134) than in the eastern United States at the time of Hopewell (Delcourt and Delcourt 1985:21-22). Another reason for the differences in animal symbolism may be constraints of the materials and technologies used in iconographic production. The limitations of an engraved line on a bronze surface or a pecked line on a rock face may contribute to the simplification noted in the Danish images,

17

this reality forces us to consider that they were purposefully ambiguous in meaning. In summary, I would argue that "animals good to think" in Bronze Age Scandinavia and Ohio Hopewell iconography present us with some useful commonalities in the symbolism of prehistoric middle-range societies. It is important to evaluate these motifs as multivocal symbols. They seem to link the natural world, the social world, and the supernatural world through their exegetical, positional, and operational meanings. As such, they provided to prehistoric people conceptual frameworks for understanding and manipulating the universe. Although the specifics of the iconography are different in the two areas, they share a quality of ambiguity and flexibility that is widespread in ethnographic examples from middle-range societies. This ambiguity and flexibility—albeit created by different stylistic strategies—provided ritual resources for manipulating and modifying the human and social part of the universe.

4. There is no corpus of Ohio Hopewell artifacts, which are widely scattered in North American museums. There are large compilations of the Danish Bronze Age material (e.g., all the known bronze belt ornaments, some of which are decorated with animal motifs, are published in Sprockhoff and Hockmann [ 1983]), but a quantitative analysis of these motifs remains a task for the future.

References Anderson, D. G. 1990. Stability and Change in Chiefdom-level Societies: An Examination of Mississippian Political Evolution on the South Atlantic Slope. In Lamar Archaeology: Mississippian Chiefdoms in the Deep South, ed. M. Williams and G. Shapiro, pp. 187-213. University of Alabama Press, Tuscaloosa. Asch, D. L., K. B. Farnsworth, and N. B. Asch. 1979. Woodland Subsistence and Settlement in West Central Illinois. In Hopewell Archaeology: The Chillicothe Conference, ed. D. S. Brose and N. Greber, pp. 66-79. Kent State University Press, Kent, OH. Baby, R. S., and S. M. Langlois. 1979. Seip Mound State Memorial: Nonmortuary Aspects of Hopewell. In Hopewell Archaeology: The Chillicothe Conference, ed. D. S. Brose and N. Greber, pp. 16-18. Kent State University Press, Kent, OH. Berglund, J. 1982. Kirkebjerget—A Late Bronze Age Settlement at Voldtofte, Southwest Funen. Journal of Danish Archaeology 1:51-64. Bradley, R. 1985. Consumption, Change and the Archaeological Record: The Archaeology of Monuments and the Archaeology of Deliberate Deposits. University of Edinburgh, Department of Archaeology, Occasional Paper 13. Broholm, H. C. 1953. Danmarks Oldsager. IV: Yngre Bronzealder. Gyldendalske Boghandel, Nordisk Forlag, Copenhagen. Brose, D. S., and N. Greber (eds.). 1979. Hopewell Archaeology: The Chillicothe Conference. Kent State University Press, Kent, OH. Coles, J. M., and A. F. Harding. 1979. The Bronze Age in Europe. Methuen and Co., London. Delcourt, H. R., and P. A. Delcourt. 1985. Quaternary Palynology and Vegetational History of the Southeastern United States. In Pollen Records of the LateQuaternary North American Sediments, ed. V. M. Bryant, Jr. and R. G. Holloway, pp. 1-37. American Association of Stratigraphic Palynologists Foundation. Earle, T. (ed.). 1991. The Evolution of Chiefdoms. In Chiefdoms: Power, Economy, and Ideology, pp. 115. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, for the School of American Research. Ellen, R. F., and D. Reason (eds.). 1979. Classifications in their Social Context. Academic Press, London.

Acknowledgments My thanks to Karin Jones and Tristine Smart who invited me to participate in the 1993 SAA symposium for which the original version of this paper was written. James Griffin and N'omi Greber corrected me on important points about Hopewell archaeology and N' omi also guided me in the question of illustrations. Martha Otto and Vernon Will of the Ohio Historical Society were very helpful in the matter of illustrations. Penelope Drooker drew my attention to the new date for Serpent Mound. My debt to my Scandinavian colleagues will be clear, I hope, in the references. Greg Starrett provided an insightful review that helped me improve this paper. Notes 1. More habitation evidence has been excavated for Bronze Age Denmark than for Ohio Hopewell (compare Rasmus sen and Adamsen 1993 with Pagan 1991:369-380 and Brose and Greber 1979). However, even in the case of Bronze Age Scandinavia, the burial and other ritual evidence dominates analyses of social organization. 2. It is unclear if the lack of rock carvings in Denmark is due only to a relative lack of large rock faces or also reflects a more fundamental difference in cultural activities from those in Sweden and Norway. 3. Serpent Mound would be an obvious exception to that statement but it was probably not built during Hopewellian times. Although most opinion has placed it in earlier Adena (which would leave it on the landscape in Hopewell times), most recently, Lepper has reported a much later radiocarbon date, A.D. 1070±70 (Glotzhober and Lepper 1994:5,7). Although this later date remains to be confirmed, it would fit with the much greater use of snake motifs in Mississippian iconography.

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6:49-56. 1992. Style and Technology in Danish Bronze Age Metallurgy: Rituals, Gender, and Society. Paper presented at the 57th Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology, Pittsburgh, PA. Morphy, H. (ed.). 1989. Animals into Art. Unwin Hyman, London. Munson, P. J. 1988. Late Woodland Settlement and Subsistence in Temporal Perspective. In Interpretations of Culture Change in the Eastern Woodlands during the Late Woodland Period, ed. R. W. Yerkes, pp. 7-16. Occasional Papers in Anthropology 3. Department of Anthropology, Ohio State University, Columbus. Randsborg, K. 1974. Social Stratification in Early Bronze Age Denmark: A Study in the Regulation of Cultural Systems. Prdhistorische Zeitschrift 49:38-61. 1984. The Coffin and the Sun: Demography and Ideology in Scandinavian Prehistory. Acta Archaeologica 55:161-184 (published 1986). Rappaport, R. 1971. Ritual, Sanctity, and Cybernetics. American Anthropologist 73:59-76. Rasmussen, M., and C. Adamsen. 1993. The Bronze Age-Settlement. In Digging into the Past: 25 Years of Archaeology in Denmark, ed. S. Hvass and B. Storgard, pp. 136-141. Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries, Copenhagen and Jutland Archaeological Society, Moesgaard (distributed by Arhus Universitetsforlag, Arhus). Seeman, M. F. 1979. Feasting with the Dead: Ohio Hopewell Charnel House Ritual as a Context for Redistribution. In Hopewell Archaeology: The Chillicothe Conference, ed. D. S. Brose and N. Greber, pp. 39^6. Kent State University Press, Kent, OH. Sprockhoff, E., and O. Hockmann. 1983. Die gegossenen bronzebecken derjiingeren nordischen Bronzezeit. Romisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum, Mainz. Tambiah, S. J. 1969. Animals are Good to Think About and Good to Prohibit. Ethnology 8:423-459. Todd, M. 1987. The Northern Barbarians: 100 EC-AD 300, rev. ed. Basil Blackwell, Oxford. Turner, V. 1969. The Ritual Process. Aldine Publishing Co., Chicago. Urton, G. (ed.). 1985. Animal Myths and Metaphors in South America. University of Utah Press, Salt Lake City. Wiessner, P. 1990. Is There a Unity to Style? In The Uses of Style in Archaeology, ed. M. W. Conkey and C. A. Hastorf, pp. 105-112. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Winge, H. 1919. Dyreknogler fra Bronzealders Bopladser. Arb0gerfor Nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie 1919:93-101.

Pagan, B. M. 1991. Ancient North America: The Archaeology of a Continent. Thames and Hudson, New York. Foote, P. G., and D. M. Wilson. 1970. The Viking Achievement. Sidgwick and Jackson, London. Glob, P. V. 1970. The Mound People: Danish Bronze-Age Man Preserved. Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY. Glotzhober, R. C, and B. T. Lepper. 1994. Serpent Mound: Ohio's Enigmatic Effigy Mound. Ohio Historical Society, Columbus. Greber, N. 1979. Variation in Social Structure of Ohio Hopewell Peoples. Midcontinental Journal of Archaeology 4:35-79. Greber, N. B., and K. C. Ruhl. 1989. The Hopewell Site: A Contemporary Analysis Based on the Work of Charles C. Willoughby. Westview Press, Boulder, CO. Hall, R. L. 1979. In Search of the Ideology of the Adena-Hopewell Climax. In Hopewell Archaeology: The Chillicothe Conference, ed. D. S. Brose and N. Greber, pp.258-265. Kent State University Press, Kent, OH. Helms, M. 1979. Ancient Panama: Chiefs in Search of Power. University of Texas Press, Austin. 1988. Ulysses' Sail: An Ethnographic Odyssey of Power, Knowledge, and Geographical Distance. Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ. Hudson, C. 1976. The Southeastern Indians. University of Tennessee Press, Knoxville. Jensen, J. 1982. The Prehistory of Denmark. Methuen, New York. Kesby, J. D. 1979. The Rangi Classification of Animals and Plants. In Classifications in their Social Context, ed. R. F. Ellen and D. Reason, pp. 33-56. Academic Press, London. Konigsberg, L. W. 1985. Demography and Mortuary Practice at Seip Mound One. Midcontinental Journal of Archaeology 10:123-148. Kossack, G. 1954. Studien zum Symbolgut der Urnenfelder- und Hallstattzeit Mitteleuropas. RomischGermanisch Forschungen 20. Berlin. Kristiansen, K. 1984. Ideology and Material Culture— An Archaeological Perspective. In Marxist Perspectives in Archaeology, ed. M. Spring, pp. 72-100. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Larsson, T. B. 1986. The Bronze Age Metalwork in Southern Sweden: Aspects of Social and Spatial Organization 1800-500B.C. Archaeology and Environment 6. University of Umea, Department of Archaeology, Umea, Sweden. Leone, M. P. 1982. Some Opinions about Recovering Mind. American Antiquity 47:742-760. Levy, J. E. 1979. Evidence of Social Organization in Bronze Age Denmark. Journal of Field Archaeology

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Fig. 1: Map of southern Britain showing the location of the Anglo-Saxon sites mentioned in this paper.

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THE SYMBOLIC ROLE OF ANIMALS IN ANGLO-SAXON ENGLAND: EVIDENCE FROM BURIALS AND CREMATIONS

Pam J. Crabtree Department of Anthropology, New York University, 25 Waverly Place, New York, NY 10003

ABSTRACT Animals and animal remains were included in pagan Anglo-Saxon burials and cremations in several different ways—as whole carcasses, selected body portions, bone artifacts, single bones and teeth, and as body decorations and amulets. Items of body ornamentation were often made from animal species such as bears, beavers, and wolves that were very rare in early Anglo-Saxon England. Whole carcasses of domestic animals including sheep, cattle, pigs, horses, and dogs were often included in pagan Saxon cremations. The evidence from Spong Hill and other cremation cemeteries, however, suggests that horses are relatively more common in cemetery sites than they are in Early and Middle Saxon settlements.

Pagan Saxon inhumations and cremations are potentially a very rich source for the study of the symbolic role of animals in early Anglo-Saxon society. Approximately 25,000 pagan Saxon cremations and inhumations have been excavated (Arnold 1988:142), while only ahandful of Early Saxon settlement sites have been thoroughly excavated and studied. Cremations are more common in eastern England, while inhumations are broadly distributed across southeastern England. Cemeteries in the eastern part of the country tend to be large and dispersed, while those in southern Britain are generally smaller and more common (Arnold 1988:41). The major cemeteries and settlements discussed in this paper are shown in Fig. 1. The information reported about animal remains from Anglo-Saxon burials must, however, be treated with some caution, especially when using the older excavation reports. As Julie Bond (1994:135) has recently noted, without detailed zooarchaeological examination, many animal bones contained in cremation urns, especially those of large mammals, are assumed to be human, and much information concerning the use of animals in cremations has undoubtedly been lost. Moreover, without the advice of a zooarchaeological specialist, even animal bones from inhumation cemeteries can be misidentified. For example, grave 60 at the Buckland Anglo-Saxon cemetery in Dover contains a female inhumation. The excavator notes that "among the personal possessions kept in a wooden box was a tooth of a large horse" (Evison 1987:122). This tooth,

Introduction Animal bones recovered from archaeological sites are most commonly used to study animal husbandry practices, hunting patterns, and diet. For example, the analysis of animal remains from Anglo-Saxon settlement sites such as West Stow and Brandon in East Anglia have shown that the Anglo-Saxon economy was based on a pattern of mixed sheep, cattle, and pig husbandry, that hunting played a relatively small role in the overall economy, and that cattle appear to have been the main source of meat in the AngloSaxon diet (Crabtree 1989; Crabtree and Campana 1991). Faunal remains, however, can also be used to provide information of a non-paleoeconomic nature. The analysis of animal bone remains from ritual contexts can provide valuable evidence about the use of animals in ritual and about the symbolic, rather than purely economic, roles of animals in earlier Anglo-Saxon society. Faunal remains recovered from Anglo-Saxon cemeteries provide a useful context for the study of the symbolic roles of animals in Anglo-Saxon culture. As Pader (1980:143) has noted, The basis for a symbolic approach to mortuary studies is, briefly, that ritual, including the ritual surrounding death, is characterized by the use of certain formalised or patterned behaviours, or symbolic actions.... How the living chose to lay out the dead, including their material accessories, is potentially an integral part of the patterned, or symbolic, activity of burial.

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to Julie Bond (1994:123), that the animals placed on the cremation pyres were "whole animals which have not been dismembered." It seems reasonable to assume that these animals may represent personal possessions of the deceased. The recently excavated burial of a horse's head from the Anglo-Saxon cemetery at Snape in Suffolk should probably also be considered in this category. At Snape a horse's head, complete with bridle and bit, was placed in a pit adjacent to one of the boat graves (Filmer-Sankey, in press). Here it appears that the horse's head was meant to stand for the entire horse. The "animal accessories" described by McKinley (1989:245) from Spong Hill also appear to represent whole animals. Here two adjacent contemporary vessels were found, one of which contained mostly human remains with a little animal bone, while the other contained mostly animal remains plus a small amount of human bone. For example, urns 2667 and 2668 contained corresponding portions of a sub-adult human plus a dog, as well as matching grave goods.

however, is clearly a cattle premolar. Finally, the taphonomic factors that may have led to the unintentional incorporation of isolated animal bones and teeth into human burials must be borne in mind. We must be sure that animal bones were intentionally included in burials and cremations before we can use the remains to inform us about Anglo-Saxon ritual behavior. In this paper, the main types of animal bone deposits included in early Anglo-Saxon inhumations and cremations will be outlined; the range and relative importance of the animal species included in these burials will be considered briefly; and an attempt will be made to draw some conclusions about the symbolic role of animals in AngloSaxon burial rituals. A review of the published literature on Anglo-Saxon cremation and inhumation cemeteries indicates that animal remains are included in burials in a variety of different ways (cf. Bond 1994:123). These include: (1) the burial or cremation of whole animals, (2) the inclusion of parts of animals or joints of meat, (3) the interment or cremation of body decoration and/or amulets, (4) the inclusion of artifacts made of bone, and (5) the presence of single bones, especially isolated teeth. Each of these context types will be considered separately.

Selected portions of animals Portions or selected joints of animals found in graves have been interpreted as food offerings for the deceased or the remains of funerary meals. For example, at the AngloSaxon inhumation cemetery at Sewerby in East Yorkshire, three ungulate ribs located near the head of a 17-25 year old female are interpreted as a possible food offering (Hirst 1985:94). The excavator notes that this is the richest grave in the cemetery and that small heaps of animal bone were present near the interment. While the Sewerby ribs can reasonably be interpreted as a food offering or the remains of a funerary meal, other cases of possible food offerings are less clear-cut. At the Buckland cemetery in Dover, the presence of animal bone fragments above the position of the skull in grave 161 is noted. These bones are identified as fragments of a sheep radius, and it is suggested that they may possibly represent a forequarter of mutton. The excavator notes that only grave goods and no human bone survived from grave 161 (Evison 1987:152). While the sheep radius may represent a food offering, it seems equally likely that the sheep bones were accidentally incorporated into the deposit. More detailed taphonomic studies are required to determine that these bones are in fact food offerings. In particular, the presence of butchery traces on animal bone can strengthen the case for food offerings or funerary meals (see Bond 1994:128-130).

Whole animal carcasses The inclusion of whole animals, especially horses and dogs, in burials is widely known from throughout the pagan Germanic world. For example, Miiller (1984) has examined 53 horse burials and 23 dog burials recovered from Migration Period (fifth-sixth century A.D.) graves in the Elbe-Saal region of Germany. He views these animals as personal property which was "put into the graves when the owners died" (Muller 1984:191). Similarly Roesdahl (1992:18) notes that in Denmark at around A.D. 900 a new burial custom for upper-class males appeared. The burials included a horse and riding equipment, food, weapons, and entertainments such as hunting dogs and gaming pieces. Burials and cremations of whole animals are also sometimes found in Anglo-Saxon cemeteries. Wilkinson (1980:229), for example, describes the inclusion of a dog in a double burial from the cemetery of Loveden Hill in Lincolnshire. The burial included a very elderly man, a child of about 5 1/2 years who was placed in his arms, and a dog that was placed at the man's feet. The dog appears to have been lame for some time, as one distal radius had an abscess cavity and the shaft was deformed. In 1991 a fiveto-six-year-old male horse interred with a human burial was discovered at the well-known site of Sutton Hoo in Suffolk (O'Connor 1994). Mound 4 at Sutton Hoo also produced a cremated horse dated to the late sixth/seventh century (Carver 1992:194, table 11.1). Although Mound 4 was robbed in the nineteenth century and excavated in 1938, recent research at Spong Hill has shown, according

Body decoration and amulets Bones and teeth which appear to have served as body ornaments and/or amulets are known from a variety of Anglo-Saxon cemeteries. This category includes a number of teeth and bones which were perforated so that they might be suspended from the neck or belt, or possibly even sewn

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fill of the burial pit. This requires careful stratigraphic interpretation and detailed taphonomic analysis. For many of the burials excavated many years ago, it may now be impossible to determine whether these single teeth are intentional grave goods or accidental inclusions. In the absence of detailed taphonomic studies, deliberately included horse trappings, such as the horse snaffle bit in grave 91 of the Alfriston (Sussex) cemetery (Welsh 1980:266), are more convincing tokens than are single isolated bones and teeth.

onto clothing. The perforated raptors' claws (third phalanges) from Spong Hill (Bond 1994:134) would fall into this category, as would the perforated canid teeth described by Meaney (1981:135) in her survey of Anglo-Saxon Amulets and Curing Stones. Perforated canid teeth have been recovered from sixth and seventh century graves in Wheatley, Oxfordshire, Abingdon, Berkshire, Lyminge II, Kent, Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and Bricklehampton, Worcestershire, indicating that the practice was widely distributed in Anglo-Saxon England. Unfortunately, in many cases the species of canid has not been determined, and it is impossible to tell whether these are the teeth of dogs, wolves, or foxes. Meaney (1981:135) notes, however, that "there is much more [historical] evidence for wolfs teeth amulets than for the other two canines." Perforated boars' teeth and beavers' teeth have also been recovered from Anglo-Saxon burials (Meaney 1981:133-134, 136137), and these also appear to have served as amulets or pendants (Meaney 1981:136-137; Crawford 1993:85). It should be noted that the use of perforated animal teeth in body ornamentation is by no means unique to the AngloSaxons or the related Germanic peoples of Western Europe. The roots of this practice can be traced back as far as the European Upper Paleolithic. The bears' claws (third phalanges) that have been recovered from the Spong Hill cremations should also be included within the category of body ornamentation, as these appear to have been parts of furs or skins (McKinley 1989:244; Bond 1994:134).

Species representation Items of body ornamentation, including pendants, often appear to be made of the remains of species that were very rare in Anglo-Saxon England. For example, bears, beavers, and wolves were rare to nearly extinct in early Anglo-Saxon England; the remains of these species are seldom found on Anglo-Saxon settlement sites. The bones of raptors and foxes are regularly recovered from Anglo-Saxon settlement sites, but in very small quantities. On the other hand, whole animal sacrifices and food offerings derive almost entirely from domestic farm animals, especially the large domestic mammals—horse, cattle, sheep/goat, pig, and dog. These animals would have been readily available to all the inhabitants of early Anglo-Saxon England. In a study of 2440 Anglo-Saxon cremation urns from 18 cemetery sites in eastern England, Richards (1987) found that animal bones were recorded from five of the sites. Four sites—Elsham, Dlington, Loveden, and Newark—included detailed quantitative data on the species present (Table 1). Although the sample sizes are quite small, it is clear that that sheep were most commonly included in these Anglo-Saxon cremations (Richards 1987:200). This is not surprising since sheep are often the animals most commonly recovered from Anglo-Saxon settlement sites in eastern England, including the Early Anglo-Saxon settlement site of West Stow (Crabtree 1989) and the Middle Saxon site of Brandon in East Anglia

Bone artifacts Bone working was a common craft in Anglo-Saxon times, and bone tools and other artifacts are common finds on Anglo-Saxon settlement sites. Bone artifacts are also occasionally recovered from Anglo-Saxon cemeteries. For example, Wilkinson (1980:228) describes paired adult cremations from the Lo veden Hill cemetery in Lincolnshire that contained 16 and 14 sheep astragali, respectively. These appear to be items of utility such as gaming counters. Single bones and teeth Single bones and teeth are the most difficult to interpret of all the animal bone finds recovered from Anglo-Saxon cemeteries. The finds of single teeth of horses and other animals have been recorded from a number of AngloSaxon cemetery sites in Britain (see, for example, Evison 1987:122). It has been suggested that these single teeth may represent token bones, symbolic of the whole animal. For example, Meaney (1981:131) suggests that, "even if only one horse tooth were buried, it may have been symbolic of the whole horse, and therefore of the journey to the other world." The main problem is that archaeologists must determine that the single tooth was intentionally placed in the inhumation and not accidentally incorporated into the

Table 1. Numbers of animals Identified in four AngloSaxon cemetery sites surveyed by Richards (1987:115, table 21)

Sheep Cattle Pig Horse Deer Bird Dog TOTAL

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Elsham

Illington

31 13 11 13 0 2 0 70

4 1 1 1 0 0 1 8

Loveden

4 1 0 0 0 4 0 9

Newark

11 5 8 3 1 1 0 29

Fig 2: Species ratios based on NISP (Number of Identified Specimens Per taxon) for four Anglo-Saxon settlement sites in East Anglia.

Fig. 3: Species ratios based on MNI (Minimum Number of Individuals) for the Spong Hill cremation cemetery and West Stow Phase 2 (sixth century).

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indicate that domestic animals were a major form of wealth among the Germanic peoples. The value of wild animal pelts and amulets, as well as the value of companion animals such as horses and dogs, should be borne in mind as part of any attempt to assess the wealth that was interred in Anglo-Saxon burials.

(Crabtree and Campana 1991). What is surprising is the relatively high numbers of horse bones in these cremations. Horses make up 15% of the bones identified at these four cremation cemeteries. In contrast, horses almost always make up less than 2% of the identified large domestic mammal bones recovered from settlement sites in eastern England. For example, Fig. 2 shows the species ratios based on NISP for four Anglo-Saxon settlement sites in East Anglia: the Early Saxon village of West Stow and the Middle Saxon sites of Brandon, Ipswich, and Wicken Bonhunt. Horses are very poorly represented at all four settlement sites. These data certainly suggest that horses are far more common in cemeteries than they are in settlement sites. Julie Bond's (1994) detailed analysis of the animal remains from cremations at the Spong Hill cemetery illustrates the importance of horses in cemetery sites even more clearly. At Spong Hill over 46% of the cremations contained animal remains, producing a sample of identified animal remains that is considerably larger than the assemblages from the Elsham, Illington, Loveden, and Newark sites combined.1 When the domestic mammal species recovered from the Spong Hill cremations are compared to the species ratios (based on MNI) calculated for the early Anglo-Saxon village of West Stow (Fig. 3), it is clear that horses and, to a lesser extent, dogs are relatively more common at the cemetery site, while cattle, sheep, and pigs are more common at the West Stow settlement. The AngloSaxons appear to have preferred interment with companion animals such as dogs and horses, which may have been viewed as the personal property of the deceased.

Acknowledgments I am most grateful to Julie Bond who sent me an advance copy of her manuscript on the cremated animal remains from Spong Hill. The comments of the two anonymous reviewers were most useful and led to a much improved paper. I am, of course, responsible for all errors of fact or interpretation. Note 1. Spong Hill produced a minimum of 227 horses, 170 sheep, 80 cattle, 84 pigs, and 25 dogs.

References Arnold, C. J. 1988. An Archaeology of the Early AngloSaxon Kingdoms. Routledge, London and New York. Bond, J. 1994. Appendix I: The Cremated Animal Bone. In The Anglo-Saxon Cemetery at Spong Hill, North Elmham. Part VIII: The Cremations, by J. I. McKinley, pp. 121-135. East Anglian Archaeology, Ispwich. Bourdillon, J., and J. P. Coy. 1980. The Animal Bones. In Excavations at Melbourne Street, Southampton, 1971-76, by P. Holdsworth, pp. 79-121. CBA Research Report 33. Council for British Archaeology, London. Carver, M. 1992. The Future of Sutton Hoo. In Voyage to the Other World: The Legacy of Sutton Hoo, ed. C. B. Kendall and P. S. Wells, pp. 183-200. Medieval Studies at Minnesota, Vol. 5. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. Crabtree, P. J. 1989. West Stow: Early Anglo-Saxon Animal Husbandry. East Anglian Archaeology, Report No. 47. Suffolk County Planning Department, Ipswich. Crabtree, P. J., and D. V. Campana. 1991. The Faunal Remains from Brandon. Unpublished report on file, Ancient Monuments Laboratory. English Heritage, London. Crabtree, P. J., and P. M. Stevens. 1994. The Animal Bone Remains for Ipswich, Suffolk Recovered from Sixteen Sites Excavated between 1974 and 1988. Unpublished report on file, Ancient Monuments Laboratory. English Heritage, London. 1995. Animal Bones Recovered from Wicken Bonhunt, Essex. Unpublished report on file, Ancient Monuments Laboratory. English Heritage, London.

Conclusions What conclusions can be drawn from this brief review of the animal remains recovered from early Anglo-Saxon cemetery sites? At a very basic level, it is clear that there is a significant difference between the economic role of animals as reflected in Anglo-Saxon settlement sites and the symbolic roles of animals in burials and cremations. Detailed faunal studies from a range of urban and rural Early and Middle Saxon sites including West Stow, Brandon, Wicken Bonhunt (Crabtree and Stevens 1995), Ipswich (Crabtree and Stevens 1994), Ham win (Bourdillon and Coy 1980), Anglian York (O'Connor 1991), and London (West 1989) indicate that the economy was based on a mixture of cattle, sheep, and pig husbandry. Other animals played relatively minor roles. Dogs, and especially horses, which are relatively poorly represented in settlement sites, clearly played a more major role in early AngloSaxon burial rituals. Anglo-Saxon body decoration focused on animals that were rare or absent from settlement sites. The rarity of animals such as bear, wolf, and beaver must surely have increased the desirability and value of their pelts and teeth. Moreover, historical sources such as Tacitus

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Suffolk, U.K. Archaeozoologia 7(l):29-37. Pader, E.-J. 1980. Material Symbolism and Social Relations in Mortuary Studies. In Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979, ed. P. Rahtz, T. Dickinson, and L. Watts, pp. 143-159. BAR British Series 82. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. Richards, J. D. 1987. The Significance of Form and Decoration of Anglo-Saxon Cremation Urns. BAR British Series 166. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. Roesdahl, E. 1992. Princely Burial in Scandinavia at the Time of the Conversion. In Voyage to the Other World: The Legacy of Sutton Hoo, ed. C. B. Kendall and P. S. Wells, pp. 155-170. Medieval Studies at Minnesota, Vol. 5. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. Welsh, M. 1980. The Saxon Cemeteries of Sussex. In Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979, ed. P. Rahtz, T. Dickinson, and L. Watts, pp. 255-283. BAR British Series 82. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. West, B. 1989. Birds and Mammals from the Peabody Site and National Gallery. In Excavations at the Peabody Site, Chandos Place, and the National Gallery, by R. L. Whytehead and R. Cowie, Transactions of the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society 40:150-168. Wilkinson, L. 1980. Problems of Analysis and Interpretation of Skeletal Remains. In Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979, ed. P. Rahtz, T. Dickinson, and L. Watts, pp. 221-231. BAR British Series 82. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford.

Crawford, S. 1993. Children, Death and the Afterlife in Anglo-Saxon England. Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History 6:83-91. Evison, V. I. 1987. Dover: The Buckland Anglo-Saxon Cemetery. Historic Buildings and Monuments Commission for England, London. Filmer-Sankey, W. in press. Snape Anglo-Saxon Cemetery. In Medieval Archaeology: An Encyclopedia, ed. P. J. Crabtree. Garland Press, New York. Hirst, S. M. 1985. An Anglo-Saxon Inhumation Cemetery at Sewerby, East Yorkshire. York University Archaeological Publications No. 4. York. Meaney, A. L. 1981. Anglo-Saxon Amulets and Curing Stones. BAR British Series 96. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. McKinley, J. 1989. Spong Hill Anglo-Saxon Cremation Cemetery. In Burial Archaeology: Current Research, Methods and Developments, ed. C. A. Roberts, F. Lee, and J. Bintliff, pp. 241-248. BAR British Series 211. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. Muller, H.-H. 1984. Zoological and Historical Interpretation of Bones from Food and Sacrifices in Early Medieval Times. In Animals and Archaeology. 4: Husbandry In Europe, ed. C. Grigson and J. CluttonBrock, pp. 187-193. BAR International Series 227. British Archaeological Reports, Oxford. O'Connor, T. P. 1991. Bones from 46-54 Fishergate. The Archaeology of York, Vol. 15/4. Council for British Archaeology for the York Archaeological Trust, London. 1994. A Horse Skeleton From Sutton Hoo,

26

BEAR, ELK, AND FISH SYMBOLISM IN FINNISH CONTEXTS

Deborah J. Shepherd

Program for Interdisciplinary Archaeological Studies, 215 Ford Hall, 224 Church St., S.E., University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, MN 55455

ABSTRACT In the transition from a subsistence pattern focused on hunting, fishing, and gathering ("wilderness culture") to one based on slash-and-burn cultivation ("swidden culture"), prehistoric Finns experienced corresponding changes in other aspects of their culture and world view. It is argued from a prior examination of the prehistoric cemeteries of the region, ethnohistoric evidence, and the folklore tradition that animistic beliefs and an ancestor cult prevailed during different cultural phases of Finnish prehistory; and that the animistic beliefs in which the principal animal cults were grounded belonged primarily to the oldest stratum. In this paper, bear, elk, and fish beliefs are explored through artifactual and symbolic representations seen in the remnants of pre-Christian ritual activity observed through prehistoric material remains, ethnohistoric records, and mythological traditions remembered in the oral poetry that was collected primarily in the last two centuries. The meaning of these animal symbols is demonstrated to have transformed over time, reflecting the larger and more fundamental changes in world view associated with the transition from wilderness to swidden culture.

the second and first millennia B.C., this new form of Finnish society is characterized as "swidden culture" and acquires a different cosmological outlook with stronger ties to kin group and territory characterized by a predominating ancestor cult (Shepherd 1995). It should be understood, however, that these two "cultures" are not temporal phases, nor are they mutually exclusive. Elements of wilderness culture are often found to exist side by side with swidden culture. The cosmological aspect of culture is, of course, reflected in its art motifs and styles—its iconography. Other evidence such as ethnohistorical accounts and the use of public space and religious paraphernalia may be brought to bear in the analysis (Marcus and Flannery 1994:55), but in the case of the early Finns, only a handful of decorated artifacts suggestive by their appearance and provenience of being offerings, plus the evidence of ethnography, ethnohistory, and the surviving oral tradition, provides data applicable to the problem of interpreting cosmological concerns. Certain motifs can be seen briefly in the material culture of the hunters, but as these same motifs were transferred into swidden culture and the historic period, we can detect changes in usage and meaning reflecting the overall transformation of mythic conceptions and belief that was taking place.

Introduction The earliest signs of human occupation in Finland date as early as the seventh millennium B .C. For five millennia, the land of Finland, which was slowly emerging from under the ice sheet, was occupied by mesolithic hunters and foragers. The earliest indications of slash-and-burn cultivation, or as it is known in Finland, swidden cultivation, did not appear until the second millennium B .C., in the Bronze Age. Only gradually did it become the primary food procurement strategy, while hunting and fishing activity remained a significant part of the subsistence base until medieval times (e.g., Sarmela 1987; Taavitsainen 1987; Tolonen 1981; Tolonen et al. 1976). Nevertheless, the adoption of swiddening techniques had a far-reaching impact on the Finnish world view. The several preceding mesolithic cultures in Finland have recently been collectively referred to as "wilderness culture." This term is useful insofar as it creates the notion of a cultural stage incorporating a group of traits pertaining very broadly to subsistence base and corresponding social organization but emphasizing environment. I would like to add to the wilderness concept the cosmological ramifications of this environment—animism, shamanism, and the hunting cult. Once swiddening began gradually to have an impact on social, economic, and cosmological structures in

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Finno-Ugric cosmology of the prehistoric period We would do best to consider first the reconstructed Finno-Ugric cosmology based on the ethnographic and folkloric sources and then correlate this understanding with the material culture manifestations of the belief system. Archaeologically, we are limited to only a small group of votive finds and objects from graves. These objects of widely varied date and distribution, which are in the form of axe heads (weapons), spoons, decorated combs, figurines, and some unidentified shapes (Carpelan 1974), if considered alone without the benefit of other contexts, can tell the archaeologist only very little about their original meaning and significance. The original folk traditions of Finland arise from an animistic belief system rooted in wilderness culture. Animism embodies a set of beliefs about the universe and nature wherein entities, objects, and forces, whether animal, plant, or inanimate, are ascribed willful spirit existences. Even whole species or aggregations of plants, animals, or other conceptual categories may have corresponding spirit entities. Such beliefs have been typical of circumpolar cultures; and among Finns, Tapio the Forest spirit, Ilmatar the Air spirit and Water Mother, the Primordial Bear Father, and a host of others not generally given proper names, are well known. Recorded folklore also holds that continual attention to certain lesser spirits, regarded as guardians, was important for the welfare of every family. The Finns saw little, if any, distinction between human and animal on the cosmic level. In truth, by the Finnish estimation, humankind is rather more equal than superior to the animal kingdom. In rune 32 of The Kalevala, the wife of Ilmarinen the Smith (one of the three great shamanistic culture heroes of Finnish myth) speaks a long and involved charm to protect her cattle from predators while the cattle go out to pasture in the forest. In particular, she is worried about bears and, talking as if directly to a bear, she says (Friberg 1988:268-269,11. 407-408, 476-479): the land is common to us, but our tastes are very different. After calling on the great sky and thunder god Ukko (an anthropomorphic male deity derived from much later IndoEuropean influences) to keep the bear from finding her cows, naming various forest spirits and asking for their aid, and telling the cows themselves where the best pasture is, the wife continues by speaking directly to the spirits of the trees: Now be lenient, groves and woodlands, Gentle, blue-hazed wilderness! Keep the cattle herd in quiet, Cloven hoofs in harmony. The spirits of the forest and the trees are survivors of the much earlier animistic tradition now blended with, but very much alive within, the later religious notions of anthropomorphic sky gods, which slowly came into Fin-

My intention here is to examine the changes that occurred in the use of bear, elk, and fish motifs from mesolithic to protohistoric times, covering in full the transition from wilderness to swidden culture. Archaeological evidence in the form of figurines and the decorative patterns and shapes found on various tools and other objects is limited, but when considered with evidence from the preserved oral tradition, meaningful correlations between the forms and ideas can be detected. Folklore and artifacts I will not attempt to provide here an exhaustive catalog of bear, elk, and fish motifs in the prehistoric material culture. Other scholars have done similar work (Carpelan 1974 and a recent publication by Christian Lindqvist [1994], for the bear and elk). The examples chosen for this discussion will be representative of those in the general literature. Ethnographic, ethnohistoric, and mythological data are derived principally from field reports provided by the nineteenth and twentieth century Finnish folklorists researching the oral tradition in the eastern Finnish and Soviet province of Karelia, from notes of missionaries working among the related population of the Saami from the seventeenth and later centuries, and from reports of Russian and Soviet ethnographers working among the various FinnoUgric groups spread throughout northern Russia in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (see Fig. 1 for provinces and sites mentioned in text). Many of the basic stories of Finnish mythology are collected in written form in a work called The Kalevala (both Old and New versions), first published in 1835 (and in a new expanded form in 1849) by Elias Lonnrot, the most renowned of numerous folktale collectors from Finland. Although it is well documented that Lonnrot edited and occasionally embellished the oral texts he collected from Karelian singers of poetry in order to create one large, interrelated body of poems, much subsequent scholarship and the work of other collectors in the field have validated Lonnrot's finished product as an excellent summary representation of the mythology as a whole, despite his pious efforts to present the pagan Finns as a monotheistic people with innate Christianlike notions (Pentikainen 1989:l-3ff., 75-78, 149, 160). The poems from which The Kalevala is compiled are called by the Finns "runes" (runo, pi., runot\ a word whose meaning incorporates not only the current sense of "poem" but also a much older meaning of "magic sign, incantation" (Siikala 1990:203). Current scholarship dates oral poetry in runic structure and Kalevala meter from as early as the Proto-Finnic period (beginning ca. 500 B.C.). The poems continued to be revised, and new ones created, until a socalled renaissance in runic poetry occurred in the centuries just prior to Lonnrot's collection. In the opinion of scholars such as Matti Kuusi, the oldest runes must date from prehistory (Pentikainen 1989:85-86).

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Fig. 1: Map of provinces and sites mentioned in text.

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. .. Suddenly the sage would fall into a trance, and his assistant then took up his post beside him, ready to carry out the awakening procedure when it came time for the sage to return. The shaman's journey was directed toward the realm of the dead, from whom he would inquire after the sick person's soul and also request to take it back with him. If someone close to the sick person, such as a relative, wanted to keep the soul in the realm of the dead so that the request could not be met, the shaman was in great peril. The dead could even prevent the shaman's return to the world of the living unless his guardian spirit could foil these plans. But if the dead agreed to return the soul, the patient was saved. (Pentikainen 1989:182) The spirit helpers and guardian spirits of the shaman often take on animal form. One term for spirit or soul in Finnish is loyly, a term indiscriminately applied to both humans and animals, meaning the type of spirit intimately connected with the breath, which is first taken in at birth and permanently departs at death (Pentikainen 1985:135). This concept only underscores the lack of distinction between human and animal beings in the Finnish world view. The Saami shaman's personal spirit might be used by the shaman to bring back information from distant places or to fight other spirits. Shamans might quarrel over the extent of their individual powers and would send their respective spirits, often in the guise of reindeer-bulls, to fight each other. A southern Saami word implying "shadow" is saivo, and saivo animals such as the s#*V0-reindeer, saivobird, saivo-fish, and saivo-snake commonly accompanied the shaman on his missions to the underworld. The qualities of these various creatures gave the Saami shaman the power to travel by land, air, through water, or into the earth (Harva 1927:284-285; Hultkrantz 1987). Related Ugrian tales from the Uralic region tell of some shamans possessing a bear-like spirit, and the ethnographer Uno Harva (1927:295) believed that the wooden or metal animal images found in shaman graves represented the "soulanimals" of those shamans.

land in the Bronze and Iron Ages. The keeping of domestic cattle is also a late cultural development, but older animistic protective charms persisted throughout all these changes. Fundamental characteristics of Finnish cosmology in wilderness culture include animistic notions such as those described above and a common reliance on shamans for contact with and appeasement of the spirits of the otherworld. However, straightforward animistic notions and shamanic methods of contacting the otherworld recede into the background in the following swidden cultural stage, when the Finns practiced shifting slash-and-burn agriculture combined with a hunting and fishing regime and later kept some few domesticated animals. Now, territorial and topographic connections between the land and human beings took on greater importance. Kinship concerns defined the working socioeconomic group, the extended family, and its validity and coherence were justified by a now well-developed ancestor cult. These ancestors of the family were just as much apart of its being as the living members. The ancestors played an important role in daily life and practical decisions, and they became the ever-present guardians who looked after the welfare of the living kin and enforced moral behavior among members. Rather than relying on shamans—although some individuals remained especially adept at healing and were consequently called sorcerers in historic times—any adult among swidden culture Finns could perform the appropriate and required ritual offerings and consult with the ancestors or spirits over matters of moment. Thus, in the passages quoted above, it was the wife herself, and not a trained shaman, who appealed directly to the necessary spirits. Elsewhere I have collected the substantial prehistoric burial data and mythological and linguistic evidence pertaining to this brief summary of wilderness and swidden culture world views (Shepherd 1995). The swidden-pattern ancestor cult was well established by the Finnish Iron Age. In wilderness culture the practice of shamanism seems to go hand-in-hand with the original circumpolar animistic beliefs. Shamanism presumes that select human beings are capable of voluntarily placing themselves in a trance, of traveling while in that state through the plane of existence inhabited by the spirits, and of communicating with, and even compelling, the spirits to assist the particular needs of humans (Pentikainen 1989:179-186; Honko 1987; Hultkrantz 1987; Schmidt 1987:285-286). Studies of shamanism among the Saami, who are the closest and most unchanged cultural relatives of the Finns, present the role of the shaman as follows: When a member of the community fell seriously ill, it was the shaman's duty to prepare for a journey to the netherworld. Thereupon all available men and women of the tribe gathered around him. The sage then seized a drum and began, by joiking [a kind of chanting], to invoke his spirit helpers.

Animal spirits Animal spirits are arguably the most important spiritual powers in a hunting and fishing cultural milieu, and two animal species stand out both archaeologically and mythologically in the Finnish wilderness tradition, the bear and the elk. Several decades ago, Finnish archaeologist Christian Carpelan (1974) surveyed pre-Iron Age bearand elk-shaped or decorated objects found from Scandinavia to the Urals in central Asia (near the Perm-Kama region), and discovered a total of twenty-three elk-shaped objects and another thirty-four depicting bear; most of these were made of stone, but other materials of manufacture included antler, wood, bronze, clay, and amber, in that order of

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feast (cf. rune 46 of The Kalevald). An important part of the ritual, as it evolved within swidden culture, concerned the incorporation of the bear into the hunter's own kin group. The bear then became a relative and, for that reason, was believed to give freely and willingly of its life for the sake of the family (cf. Kuusi et al. 1977; Sarmela 1983, 1987, 1991; and Pentikainen 1989). The archaeological finds displaying animal motifs have most often been found in wilderness locations, indicating their deposition in watery or marshy environments as votive offerings or sacrifices. Some scholars have surmised that the forest environment of these actions implies the intention of performing hunting magic ritual, that these sacrifices were meant to ensure success in the hunt (Hirviluoto 1990:90). However, we need not conclude that other goals were not involved. The watery environment of many offerings suggests fertility concerns, and one purpose of the offerings may have been to enhance the productivity of swidden fields, which were dispersed throughout much of the forested area in southern and central Finland. Other, personal, more individualized goals may also have figured in these actions. Historic folk traditions in Finland include the practice of throwing a variety of objects, such as needles or scissors, into water to ensure luck (Hirviluoto 1990:87).

numerical importance (Carpelan 1974:32). Since bear and elk represent the dominant categories of animal representations found in Finnish contexts, the finds serve to underscore the widely held opinion that the prehistoric Finns of the wilderness stage were likely to have been a totemistic people, with the bear and the elk clans dominating (Pentikainen 1989:169, 198; Sarmela 1983:294; 1991; Harva 1927:502,496ff.). I would also suggest that the fish was likewise an important creature, as will be shown below. Bear mythology Finnish hunting myths are concerned almost exclusively with bear and elk stories. In the folklore, both animals have been ascribed celestial origins; such tales, particularly about the bear, are common throughout Finnish and Karelian territory (Sarmela 1983:286; see Kuusi et al. 1977:548 for the elk). Of the two sets of myth, the bear myths seem to be more prevalent. The bear was the most important animal in the Finno-Ugric universe: he was called the Father of the Forest, the Celestial Father, and many other titles as well (Schmidt 1989). The Finns saw a bear in the constellation of the Big Dipper, and the immobile North Star at the end of its tail was the peg holding up the dome of the heavens. An important piece of evidence for interpreting hunting myths comes from the set of rituals collectively known as the bear cult: in essence, a ritualized set of behaviors associated with traditional bear hunting. When a bear was properly awakened, driven from its den, and killed, the act not only transferred great power to the hunter, but it also then became necessary to revive the bear's spirit and placate it so that it would return to its cosmic role in the sky, to be available once more when a bear was needed for survival. The hunting of the bear for its meat would at times, toward the end of a hard winter, become a life-anddeath matter. Most bear ritual poetry concerns the proper way of hunting the bear and convincing it that its death was not caused by the hunter; this is followed by descriptions of what constituted appropriate conduct at the celebratory

Bear-shaped artifacts One kind of bear-shaped artifact is a "simple, bulletshaped" shaft-hole axe (a weapon type), an object type known from Sweden to the east Baltic (Fig. 2). A Swedish example can be dated to the mid-second millennium B.C., but an east Baltic piece is dated rather late, dating to the beginning of the first millennium B.C. The east Baltic axe was found in a grave, but a third axe, from Poytya in southwest Finland, was dated simply to the Bronze Age (ca. 1500-500 B.C.) and appears to have been an offering placed in water (Carpelan 1974:52-53). Another bear-shaped artifact type consists of spoons made of wood, bone, or antler. Examples mentioned by

Fig. 2: Stone shaft-hole axe depicting bear's head, from Halsingland, Sweden (possibly mid-second millennium B.C.) (L, 21.7 cm). (Drawing by Jennifer Hook after Stenberger 1940:fig. 2.)

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more specific meaning in the swidden cultural stage of "cult place of the dead" (Koski 1990). Early Christianity, trying to gain a foothold in the Nordic countries, apparently attempted to get the concept of a good-versus-evil duality across to the pagan mind by labeling the old sacred entities as demonic, in opposition to the new Christian cosmology (Bjerre Finnestad 1990). In this way, a fundamental kind of sacred site, which could no longer be permitted to be used for its intended purpose, that is, as a cult place for the ancestral dead, became divorced from its forbidden locational identity and personified as a kind of Lucifer or Beelzebub. Thus, Hiisi's Elk is more likely in its origin to have been a characterization of "the elk of the world of the dead," or specifically, of the dead kin, rather than figuring in the literal meaning of "Demon's Elk" in the Christianized sense as is found in virtually all text translations. The ambiguity of the latter epithet's meaning is apparent in the last four lines of the following verse (Magoun 1963:78, rune 13,11. 141-160). Reckless Lemminkainen kept on skiing after the elk. He skied over fens, skied over the countryside, skied over open clearings. Fire spurted from the skis, smoke from the tips of the poles, but he did not see his elk, neither saw nor heard it. He glided over hills, glided over dells, he glided over the regions beyond the sea; he skied over all the Demon's backwoods, all the Grave Spirit's heaths, too, skied along in front of the jaws of Death, behind the Grave Spirit's farmstead. Now Death opens his jaws, the Grave Spirit raises his head to capture the man, to swallow Lemminkainen. The elk's link to places of death is unmistakable.

Carpelan (1974:60) display a bear's head on the handle (Fig. 3). One such object, from Laukaa in the south central lake district of Finland, is made out of wood from a tree known now only from the Urals but which may possibly have grown in Finland in earlier millennia; the spoon is dated between 3200 and 2700 B.C. Another, more recent bear-headed spoon from Sarnate in Latvia is of a type known from north Norway to the south Baltic and dated, in this case, to the mid-second millennium B.C. The votive offering of carved spoons in bodies of water is known even from the late Iron Age, including the Viking period (Hirviluoto 1990). These objects are almost always made of bone or antler, and although their decoration—often intricate braided patterns carved into the handle—does not indicate any kind of animal, it would be interesting to know from what species of animal the bone or antler originated. Elk mythology The bear of myth is clearly a positive power and guiding force. The elk, on the other hand, is principally characterized in surviving epic poems as the Hiisi Elk, or Demon's Elk (without, however, all the strong negative connotations attributed to "demon" by Christianity) that, according to the myth, the heroic shaman Lemminkainen must "ski down" and capture before he is allowed to continue his courtship of the daughter of the Mistress of Pohjola who comes from the mysterious and dangerous land of the far north "where men are eaten" (Pentikainen 1989:170). The adventure is clearly a description of a shaman's journey to the otherworld where live the spirits of the dead, for in a place where men are eaten, they certainly must be dead. The elk seems likewise of that realm, although in some versions it escapes ultimately to its celestial home in the arch of the sky, much like the bear. The change in the meaning of the term Hiisi Elk most likely occurred under the influence of Christian missionaries espousing their strongly dualized religion which defined the world in terms of good and evil; such dualism had always been foreign to the Finnish world view. The original meaning of hiisi (pi., hiisit) seems to have been a reference to a sacred location rather than to any kind of spirit being. It is defined as "cult place," later taking on the

Elk-shaped artifacts The elk-shaped objects studied by Carpelan are similar to those depicting bears. Just over half of the elk images come from Finland and Karelia (in fact, two-thirds of the bear objects come from that same territory), ranging in date

Fig. 3: Bear-headed wooden spoon, from Laukaa (3200-2700 B.C.) (L, ca. 21 cm). (Drawing by Jennifer Hook after Ailio 1912:fig. 6).

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Fig. 4: Wooden elk-head sculpture, from Lehtojarvi, near Rovaniemi, Finland (sixth millennium B.C.) (L, ca. 37 cm). (Hypothetical reconstruction by Jennifer Hook based on Era-Esko1958:figs.5and1).

from the sixth to the second millennium B.C. Stone shafthole axes from Sweden as well as from east Karelia display elk heads as well as bear heads. Examples of these are dated to the mid-second millennium B.C. (Carpelan 1974:5152). A spoon handle shaped as an elk head originates from a water deposit near the Swedish-Finnish border at Kittila and is likewise dated to the mid-second millennium B.C. (Carpelan 1974:65). Much older examples of elk-head symbolism may be seen in a fragment of a wooden elk-head carving from northern Finland (Fig. 4), radiocarbon-dated to the sixth millennium B.C., and also in a petroglyph from the Lake Onega region east of Karelia, which depicts a boat prow designed as an elk head (Fig. 5; Carpelan 1974:65).

Fig. 5: Petroglyph from vicinity of Lake Onega, Russia (neolithic?) (L., probably less than 1 m). (Drawing by Jennifer Hook after Era-Esko1958:fig. 6).

Fish mythology One other creature mentioned in the context of powerful animal spirits, although never associated in the literature with the celestial elk and bear, is the fish, especially the pike. Fishing was an important component of the subsistence base for prehistoric Finns. The pike (or occasionally the trout or other species) apparently once held meaning as a fertility symbol in folk tradition, suggesting that the pike may be another animal of particular cultural importance. This symbolic meaning is perhaps mainly due to the pike's (any fish's, for that matter) fundamental association with water. Matti Kuusi traces references to the special fertility of the sea to early forms of certain runes in The Kalevala and concludes that "the implication that the sea is more fertile than the land [is] a theme found over a large area [and] seen as evidence of the poems' origin in a coastal fishing environment" (Kuusi et al. 1977:526). The story of Aino from The Kalevala strongly conveys the idea of the fertility powers offish (Pentikainen 1989:45, rune 5, The Kalevala). Vainamoinen, the central shamanistic hero of the Finnish pantheon of mythological beings, is old and venerable and seems to have been born that way.

Called by the epithet "Eternal Sage," he nonetheless has one problem he can never solve: Vainamoinen cannot manage to find a wife. Aino is a young maiden wooed by Vainamoinen, but the prospect of being forced into marriage with an ancient man whom she considers impotent makes her choose instead suicide by drowning. She says (Friberg 1988:65, rune 5,11. 281-284): It is time for me already, Time to leave these airs above, Time to seek the under-earth, Time to go to Tuonela. However, instead of becoming a spirit in Tuonela—a land of the dead, distant and separated from the land of the living and for that reason perhaps more ancient in concept than the localized otherworld of the ancestor cult of swidden culture—the common version of the story has Aino transformed into a fish which Vainamoinen inadvertently fishes out of the water. But since he does not recognize Aino in fish spirit form, she is again able to escape him, at the same time taunting Vainamoinen for his loss of her by identifying herself now as "Vellamo' s young water maiden,/ Ahto's favorite, little Aino" (Friberg 1988:71, rune 5,11.

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124-125). Vellamo and Ahto are a male and female spousal pair of water deities, and Aino has been transformed into one of their kind with an identity that is clearly fishlike. Furthermore, this is no simple death. Since all waters are symbolic sources of fertility, birth, and rebirth—Creation itself was brought about by the Water Mother while floating in the great seas—by the act of drowning herself, Aino is able to be reborn as a fish spirit with an existence fulfilled by all that the fertility of the seas implies. So in the end she does achieve the kind of potent life she wished for. The pike is also an integral part of the Finnish myth of the origin of fire, which may account for its particular importance among the many species of the waters. The motif of the spark of fire being taken from a fish's belly is, in Kuusi's view, very old. In one version, the shamanic heroes Ilmarinen and Vainamoinen both worked to create a spark of fire, but it fell from the sky into a lake and was swallowed by a fish. Eventually the people were able to catch the fish, split it open, and obtain the spark. Once released from the fish, the spark burned under human control (Kuusi et al. 1977:99-101). In the late mythological phase of the land of Kaleva where The Kalevala heroes lived, fertility is often a lightning bolt from Ukko coining out of the sky with scarcely any but the most passive feminine presence to the power. Much of this development can be linked to the changing forms of fire-striking implements (Salo 1990a, 1990b). Indo-European influences brought the lightning-strike myth of the origin of fire, which became closely connected with the sky-thunder god Ukko, to Finland, and it seems to have coexisted with the older myth of the spark in the fish's belly. Some poetry also describes Ukko's lightning strike as a sexual act with the earth as partner. Fire and the fertility of the earth logically go hand in hand in swidden culture contexts.

Fig. 6: Fire-striking stone from Saltvik, Aland, Finland (L, ca. 12.6 cm). (Drawing by Jennifer Hook after Aspelin 1877:fig. 1238.)

whole "fertility-spark of fire and life" equation add up. As an added point, it has been observed among Finno-Ugric peoples that usually only men were permitted to strike fires; women were restricted to tending fires, thus emphasizing the male role in the making of fire. But if leaving such a sexually explicit, feminine object as the fire-striking stones by the water's edge was not meant to invoke the power of the older Water Mother (remembered vaguely even in the sixteenth century when part of the story was recorded by Mikael Agricola), at least in addition to the power of Ukko the sky-thunder god, then the appearance of this strong symbolism seems a strange coincidence. In fact, the dating of these fire-striking stones to the Iron Age suggests that older fertility beliefs held sway alongside newer, foreign (Indo-European) beliefs for centuries. Furthermore, the overall form of these stones is, in addition to the feminine characteristics already remarked on, quite possibly fish-shaped. Given the older myth of the spark coming from the fish's belly, the potential correlation is obvious. The combination of fish fertility, water-

Fish-shaped objects Unto Salo (1990a, 1990b) considers the peculiarly vulva-shaped fire-striking stones, found as "stray finds" throughout the Finnish settlement area but especially further to the north in Finland, to be an objectification of the Ukko myth (Fig. 6). These stone objects are dated specifically to the earlier part of the Iron Age (second to seventh centuries A.D.). It is the opinion of Salo and others that their shape is clearly suggestive of the female body, since there is no apparent functional reason for the shape or the incised line that makes the symbolism so convincing. These fire-striking stones are not so much stray objects as votive objects left deliberately at the edges of bodies of water, perhaps after having been used to strike fires for burning swidden clearings. Salo (1990b) concludes that the stones represented the feminine side of the masculine lightning, perhaps the fertile earth, in order to make the

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The elk, like the bear, is also a cosmic figure of the wilderness phase, having its home in the arch of the sky. Its possible totemic identity and links to the land of the dead have already been discussed. Since the major surviving elk myth is also a hunting myth, the possibility that the elk was also originally at the center of an ancient hunting cult looms large. Since the bear hunting cult seems to have become so popular in Finnish territory in later millennia, the bear may simply have supplanted the elk hunting cult in that area. A preference for the bear hunting cult may have provided an opening for the transference of elk symbolism to another realm of the cosmos during the swidden culture stage. The development of the association ofhiisi sacred places with the swidden culture ancestor cult (Shepherd 1995; Anttonen 1992) may have brought the elk and elk symbolism into a later connection with the ancestor cult. There is, however, no direct evidence of such a connection, only allusions buried in the oral tradition. What is apparent is that just as Christianity was theologically most hostile to and disruptive of the old ancestor cult (which was founded on the principles of direct communication with and reverence for the dead and an assumption of continual reincarnation), elk cult and symbolism virtually lost all meaning in Finnish culture. By the historic period, elk symbolism appears largely misunderstood or forgotten. It seems unnatural, given the hints in the oral tradition, that the elk would have so much less semantic identity in the traditional culture than the bear, especially considering its strong presence numerically among pre-Iron Age finds. It seems more likely that elk associations and motifs were somehow suppressed to a greater extent in the protohistoric and historic periods than those of bear. One possible reason may derive from the elk's presumed link with the ancestor cult. This link would have made elk symbols and meanings particularly offensive to the Christian community and could be the reason for our minimal perception of them in the culture as we know it. Fish may not play a cosmic role in the same sense as bear or elk, but they do play an essential part in the primal myth of the acquisition of fire by humanity. No species of fish has yet been suspected of functioning as a totemic animal, but considering the ethnographically documented importance offish and fishing to traditional Finnish culture, and the many distinctive fishing methods used by Finns, a totemic identity for pike or for any other aquatic species would not be surprising. The strong associations between fish and fertility left a surviving undercurrent of sexuality in surviving "fish stories" despite probable Christian opposition to the ideas. The Finnish water-borne fertility cult had to have been important to the early swidden cultivators who needed water for the productivity of their fields, before Indo-European influences in the form of a skythunder god added other ideas to the mix. The fact that the vulva/fish-shaped fire-striking stones seem to have re-

birth, and female sexual symbolism makes sense in swidden culture contexts and is at least one hypothetical reconstruction of the pre-Indo-European fertility ritual associated with cultivation. Among later fire-striking implement types, Salo (1990b) notes forms, such as the bow (for shooting arrows of lightning), which completely abandon the fishfemale-fertility motifs and emphasize only the procreative role of the male sky god. Discussion Turning now to the changing use of symbolism over time, how were the bear, elk, and fish affected by the changes brought on by swidden culture and later circumstances such as the efforts of Christian missionaries? The bear is the central cosmic figure from the wilderness stage of Finnish culture. Its role, based on mythological reconstruction, can reasonably be described as supreme guardian and, with the North Star at the end of its tail, supporting power of the cosmos, the keeper of the natural order. The bear may have been a major clan totem animal. In particular, the animal was the focal point of hunting ritual and humankind's rapport with the many spirits of the forest. As seems typical of hunting cultures, fertility notions of the Finnish wilderness stage probably centered on the prolificacy of the forest, and although part of the ritual was meant to ensure the "return" of the captured beast so that it could be hunted again, there seemed to be no overt death/ fertility cult associated with the wilderness phase, and specifically, there is no evidence of association between bear symbolism and human death or rebirth. Since bear ritual seems superficially to pertain only to the hunt and lacks any perceptible link to the ancestor cult or to death ritual, it did not pose any strong rival threat to Christian beliefs and therefore did not attract active hostility from the Church in the early Middle Ages. Since the bear rites were permitted to survive into modern times, this has enabled the symbolic meaning and ritual forms of bear cult to come down in coherent form to us today. Archaeologically, however, the bear appears no more significant than the elk, contrary to our impressions from ethnography and folklore which strongly emphasize the bear. In fact, our meager archaeological evidence, based on distributions and dates of the relevant artifacts, implies that the elk maintained an older and more widespread importance than the bear, although the bear might be said to have become dominant in the Finnish and Karelian homeland, especially by the second millennium B.C. (to which time period seventeen of the twenty-two examples of bear objects from Finland and Karelia are dated) (Carpelan 1974:81). It seems that the bear-hunting cult had steadily grown in importance in Finland and Karelia throughout prehistoric times, just as it has been preserved among the Saami and in some rural areas of Karelia into the twentieth century.

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mained in ritual use longer in the more northerly areas of Finland than in the southern regions closer to European influences implies that the rites associated with field burning were indeed pre-Indo-European and only gradually supplanted by later rites. In any event, Christianity was generally offended by any kind of fertility rite, so the symbolic meaning of fish, and therefore of the fire-striking stones, was most likely for this reason virtually lost by the beginning of the historic period.

Harva, U. 1927. Finno-Ugric, Siberian. 4: The Mythology of All Races, ed. J. A. MacCulloch. Marshall Jones Company, Boston; Archaeological Institute of America. Hirviluoto, A.-L. 1990. A Bone Spoon from Pirkkala. In Fenno-Ugri et Slavi 1988, Papers [from] the Finnish-Soviet Archaeological Symposium "Studies in the Material Culture of the Peoples of Eastern and Northern Europe;' ed. T. Edgren, pp. 87-91. Iskos 9. National Board of Antiquities, Helsinki. Honko, L. 1987. Finno-Ugric Religions: An Overview. In Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 5, M. Eliade, ed.in-chief, pp. 330-335. Macmillan Publishing Co., New York. Hultkrantz,A. 1987. On Beliefs in Non-Shamanic Guardian Spirits among the Saamis. In Saami Religion, ed. T. Ahlback, pp. 110-123. Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis 12. Almqvist and Wiksell International, Stockholm. Koski, M. 1990. A Finnic Holy Word and Its Subsequent History. In Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, ed. T. Ahlback, pp. 404440. The Donner Institute, Turku. Kuusi, M., K. Bosley, and M. Branch. 1977. Finnish Folk Poetry-Epic. Finnish Literature Society, Helsinki. Lindqvist, C. 1994. Fangstfolkets bilder. En studie av de nordfennoskandiska kustanknutna jagarhallristningarna. Theses and Papers in Archaeology, n.s. A5. Universiteti, Stockholm. Magoun, F. P., Jr. (trans.). 1963. The Kalevala, or Poems of the Kaleva District, compiled by E. Lonnrot. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA. Marcus, J., and K. V. Flannery. 1994. Ancient Zapotec Ritual and Religion: An Application of the Direct Historical Approach. In The Ancient Mind: Elements of Cognitive Archaeology, ed. C. Renfrew and E. B. Zubrow, pp. 55-74. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Pentikainen, J. 1985. The Human Life Cycle and Annual Rhythm of Nature in Finnish Folklore. Temenos 21:127-143. 1989. Kalevala Mythology, trans, and ed. R. Poom. Indiana University Press, Bloomington and Indianapolis. Salo, U. 1990a. Agricola's Ukko in the Light of Archaeology: A Chronological and Interpretative Study of Ancient Finnish Religion. In Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, ed. T. Ahlback, pp. 92-190. Donner Institute, Turku. 1990b. Fire-Striking Implements of Iron and Finnish Myths Relating to the Birth of Fire. In Fenno-Ugri et Slavi 1988, Papers [from] the Finnish-Soviet Archaeological Symposium "Studies in the

Conclusions Any study of symbolic meaning in prehistory must take into account the ideological consequences of culture change. Subsistence practices themselves become intricately linked to religious ideas. It is also a basic fact that no set of religious beliefs exists in static form but is always in flux, often with competing ideas existing side by side within the same culture (cf. Bjerre Finnestad 1990). In many instances before modern times, the arrival of missionaries of a proselytizing religion boded the destruction of much older cultural information, for which loss others would later lament. Other cultural forces with ideological content had their permanent impact as well. Nevertheless, for archaeologists, when an oral tradition or other complementary evidence exists, it may remain possible to work back over the process of ideological change to find probable modes of belief which can then be compared to the archaeological data. By this means, we may dare to debate the possible meanings of symbols in prehistoric cultures. References Ailio, J. 1912. Zwei Tierskulpturen. Suomen Muinaismuistoyhdistyksen Aikakauskirja 26:257282. Anttonen, V. 1992. Interpreting Ethnic Categories Denoting * Sacred' in a Finnish and Ob-Ugrian Context. Temenos 28:53-80. Aspelin, J. R. 1877. Muinaisjdnnoksid Suomen Suvun Asumus-Aloilta. Rauta-Aika, Vol. 4. G. W. Edlund, Helsinki. Bjerre Finnestad, R. 1990. The Study of the Christianization of the Nordic Countries: Some Reflections. In Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, ed. T. Ahlback, pp. 256-272. The Donner Institute, Turku. Carpelan, C. 1974. Hirven-ja Karhunpaaesineita Skandinaviasta Uralille. Suomen Museo 81:29-88. Era-Esko, A. 1958. Die Elchkopfskulptur vom Lehtojarvi in Rovaniemi. Suomen Museo 65:8-18. Friberg, E. (trans.). 1988. The Kalevala, Epic of the Finnish People, 2nd. ed., ed. G. C. Schoolfield. Otava Publishing Co., Helsinki; Finnish North American Literature Society, Turku.

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Shepherd, D. J. 1995. Funerary Ritual and Symbolism: An Interdisciplinary Interpretation of Burial Practices in Late Iron Age Finland. Uunpublished Ph.D. diss., University of Minnesota. Siikala, A.-L. 1990. Singing of Incantations in Nordic Tradition. In Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, ed. T. Ahlback, pp. 191-205. The Donner Institute, Turku. Stenberger, M. 1940. Bjornhuvudyxan fran Halsingland. Fornvdnnen 35:79-84. Taavitsainen, J.-P. 1987. Wide-Range Hunting and Swidden Cultivation as Prerequisites of Iron Age Colonization in Finland. Suomen Antropologi 4:213233. Tolonen, K., A. Siiriinen, A.-L. Hirviluoto. 1976. Iron Age Cultivation in South-West Finland. Finskt Museum 83:5-66. Tolonen, M. 1981. An Absolute and Relative Pollenanalytic Study on Prehistoric Agriculture in South Finland. Annales Botanici Fennici 18:213-220.

Material Culture of the Peoples of Eastern and Northern Europe,91 ed. T. Edgren, pp. 49-61. Iskos 9. Museovirasto, Helsinki. Sarmela, M. 1983. The Finnish Bear-Hunting Drama. Suomalais-Ugrilaisen Seuran Toimutuksia 183:283300. 1987. Swidden Cultivation in Finland as a Cultural System. Suomen Antropologi 4:241-262. 1991. Karhu Ihmisen Ymparistossa. Kalevalaseuran Vuosikirja 71:209-250. Schmidt, E. 1987. Khanty and Mansi Religion. In Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 8, M. Eliade, ed.-inchief, pp. 280-288. Macmillan Publishing Co., New York. 1989. Bear Cult and Mythology of the Northern Ob-Ugrians. In Uralic Mythology and Folklore, ed. M. Hoppal and J. Pentikainen, pp. 187-232. Ethnologica Uralica 1. Ethnographic Institute, Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Budapest; Finnish Literature Society, Helsinki.

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Fig. 1: Map of the Eastern Arctic showing the location of sites mentioned in the text (inset), and the distribution of known 'shaman's tubes'.

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ALTERED STATES: HUMAN-ANIMAL TRANSFORMATIONAL IMAGES IN DORSET ART Genevieve LeMoine Department of Sociology and Anthropology, Bowdoin College, Brunswick, ME 04011 James Helmer and Don Hanna Department of Archaeology, University of Calgary, Calgary, Alberta T2N1N4

ABSTRACT Two artifacts from Late Dorset sites on Little Cornwallis Island (Northwest Territories, Canada) are evidence of a widespread 'symbolic reservoir' (Macintosh 1989) relating to shamanism in the Circumpolar Arctic. An ivory tube/container/staff fmial combining images of walrus, seal, and a human face is remarkably similar to other such objects found across the Canadian Arctic (Taylor and Swinton 1967; Schledermann 1990). A figurine of a half-human/half-polar bear falls into the same tradition, using the same set of beliefs and imagery associated with circumpolar shamanism, but is, in its form, unique. These two pieces attest to the widespread nature and time-depth of this symbolic system, in which specific beliefs documented among ethnographic groups can be identified in artifacts made by people separated from them for some 3000 years. They also demonstrate the variety of individual interpretations and expressions this imagery can take, while still remaining firmly within one tradition.

Introduction Animals play an important part in the lives of all hunter-gatherer peoples, and this is nowhere more evident than in the Arctic, where meat accounts for virtually all of the traditional diet. The importance of animals to the prehistoric Dorset peoples, who occupied the eastern Arctic from ca. 3000-1000/500 years ago, is reflected in tiny carvings which are found in most of their archaeological sites. In this paper we examine the role these carvings may have played in ancient life, focusing on two recently uncovered carvings from Little Cornwallis Island in the central Canadian Arctic (Fig. 1). We will demonstrate that Dorset art is unambiguously part of a shamanistic art tradition, with both shamanic and shamanistic elements (Ta$on 1983a, b), and with striking similarities to ethnographic Inuit shamanism. The Dorset Cultural Tradition—the final stage of the Arctic Small Tool tradition (ASTt) in the Canadian Arctic and Greenland (Helmer 1994)—began around 3000 years

ago, apparently developing in situ out of Pre-Dorset culture, and ended around 1000/500 years ago,1 when the Thule people, ancestors of the modern Inuit, moved eastward from Alaska into Arctic Canada. The Dorset Cultural Tradition is conventionally divided into four to five Horizons by archaeologists: Transitional, Early, Middle, and Late (which sometimes includes a Terminal phase). It is the Late and Terminal Horizons, lasting from ca. 1500 to 1000/500 years ago that are of interest to us here. Dorset art One of the defining features of the Dorset Cultural Tradition is the widespread occurrence of a highly distinctive art style.2 Dorset artisans created a wide variety of miniature carvings from ivory, antler, bone, tooth, wood, soapstone, and chert, depicting highly naturalistic anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figures as well as abstracted geometric shapes. Favored subjects include:

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History of interpretation The analysis of Dorset art has played a prominent role in Eastern Arctic Palaeo-Eskimo studies since Diamond Jenness first identified the 'Dorset Culture' in 1925. Over the past seventy years, numerous attempts have been made to further identify and to interpret this intriguing though often elusive aspect of Dorset material culture (i.e., Collins 1937; De Laguna 1947; Harp 1953, 1974/75; Jenness 1925,1933;Larsen 1969/70; Lyons 1982; Mary-Rousseliere 1970, 1971; Mathiassen 1927, 1928; Maxwell 1985; McGhee 1980; Meldgaard 1960a, b; Ta$on 1983a, b; Taylor 1968, 1971, 1975; Taylor and Swinton 1967; Thompson 1981, 1982). A common thread linking most, if not all, of the above attempts at evaluating Dorset art has been the emphasis placed on assessing its taxonomic status. Originally Dorset art was treated simply as an 'index fossil' useful for distinguishing the then newly defined 'Dorset Culture' from later Thule and earlier Pre-Dorset cultural manifestations in the Eastern Arctic (i.e., Jenness 1925, 1933; Lethbridge 1939; Mathiassen 1927, 1928; Rowley 1940 This perspective later shifted to an evaluation of the spatial and temporal variability of Dorset art itself. Collins (1937), Larsen and Rainey (1948), De Laguna (1947), and Harp (1953, 1974/75), for instance, were interested in studying the similarities, dissimilarities, and possible relationships between Eastern Arctic Dorset art and the art found in association with the Okvik, Old Bering Sea, and Ipiutak 'cultures' of the Western Arctic. Later, Meldgaard (1960a), Taylor (1968,1971,1975) and Taylor and Swinton (1967) began studying the origins of Dorset art and its development over time. Finally, during the 1970s and 1980s, several researchers became actively interested in identifying specific regional and temporal stylistic variants of Dorset art (i.e., Lyons 1982; Jordan 1979/80; MaryRousseliere 1964; Maxwell 1985; McGhee 1980, 1981; Ta^on 1983a, b; Thompson 1981, 1982). Several informal theories have been posited about the possible 'meaning' or 'meanings' of Dorset art. Meldgaard (1960b), Maxwell (1985), McGhee (1980, 1981, 1985), Taylor (1975), Harp (1974/75), and Thompson (1982), for example, have speculated that Dorset art, represented in most cases by a high proportion of zoomorphic images, may be a form of sympathetic hunting magic. McGhee (1980) and Tagon (1983a, b) have suggested an alternative interpretation, that Dorset art represents a form of 'Crisis Cult', the imagery reflecting the Dorset people's ideological response to the stresses brought about by ecological change and the arrival of well organized and formidable competitors (the Thule people) who challenged the Dorset people for access to available natural resources. Other interpretations of Dorset art include its possible association with 'protective medicine' (i.e., Harp 1974/75; McGhee 1980), with grave art (Harp 1969/70; Taylor 1968, 1971,

human figures (heads, torsos, and multiple face images), bear figures (heads and torsos), seals, walruses, birds (including falcons, loons, and eider ducks), caribou, musk ox, weasels, and fish (Maxwell 1985; McGhee 1985; Schledermann 1990; Ta$on 1983a, b). Many examples of Dorset art exhibit incised geometric decorations over one or more surfaces of the piece. The most common of these are parallel and diagonal lines, Xs, barbs, and spurred lines. These elements are frequently found on the dorsal or ventral surface of a figure, and appear to mark major points of skeletal articulation. These incised lines are generally interpreted as an X-ray skeletal representation, often referred to as the X-ray motif. The origins of the Dorset artistic tradition are believed to lie in the preceding Pre-Dorset Cultural Tradition (ca. 4500-2800 B.P.). Helmer (1986) has described a naturalistic ivory carving of a human face clearly anticipating later Dorset depictions of the human head in an Early Pre-Dorset context. Examples of abstracted geometric designs that also appear to anticipate later Dorset designs have been reported from Middle to Late Pre-Dorset (ca. 3400-2800 B.P.) contexts by Muller-Beck (1977), Mary-Rousseliere (1964), Martijn (1964), and Schledermann (1978). The vast majority of the prehistoric anthropomorphic, zoomorphic, and abstract carvings found in the Eastern Arctic, however, are clearly associated with the Dorset Cultural Tradition. Carvings are rare from the Transitional Dorset Period (ca. 2800-2500 B.P.), but several examples of naturalistic zoomorphic and anthropomorphic carvings have been found in an Early Dorset context (ca. 2500-2000 B.P.; Taylor 1968; Helmer 1981; Lyons 1982). These Early Dorset carvings, however, lack the elaborate geometric incisions associated with the X-ray motif noted earlier. Substantially more carvings are known from the Middle Dorset Horizon (ca. 2000-1500 B.P.) sites. During the Middle Dorset there appears to have been a high degree of regional variation in artistic style. Three distinct style groups have been recognized by Lyons (1982), Ta$on (1983a, b), Maxwell (1985), and others. They include the Button Point, Iglulik, and Port aux Choix (Labrador/ Newfoundland) styles. By far the greatest number of known Dorset art pieces (637 of 865 specimens examined by Ta^on [ 1983a, b] or ca. 74%), however, are associated with the Late Dorset Horizon. Specimens of art dating to this period span the entire range of zoomorphic, anthropomorphic, and abstract elements attributed to all Dorset art. Many of these pieces also bear the incised geometric decorations associated with the X-ray skeletal motif. Late Dorset carvings do not seem to exhibit the regional variation that characterizes Middle Dorset art. Indeed, Late Dorset art, wherever it is found, appears to exhibit an exceptionally high degree of uniformity in design, subject, and execution.

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Thus the central figure in shamanism, the shaman, establishes contact with the supernatural world through spirit helpers, manifested through ecstatic or trance experiences. The shaman acts as an intermediary between humans and the supernatural. Inuit shamanism, which we feel is the best analogue for Dorset shamanism, is, in the words of Merkur (1985:248), "a special development, indeed, an exceptional flowering of the general phenomenon of shamanism." Among the Inuit the shaman or angakoq, who can be of either gender (or neither, see Saladin d'Anglure 1986) or even a child (Merkur 1985:2), acts as an intermediary between humans and supernatural beings for a variety of purposes, including healing, both physical and spiritual, intervening to improve hunting conditions, changing weather conditions, and predicting the future (Merkur 1985:4-5). For our purposes, three aspects of Inuit shamanism are particularly important. These are the shaman's spirit helpers, the idea that through them, the shaman travels to the supernatural world, and the importance of the skeleton as a symbol of shamanic power. Shamans frequently have a number of spirit helpers. These may be the spirits of ancestors (especially if they themselves were shamans), mythical spirits, and animals (Hultkrantz 1978:19; Merkur 1985:228; Saladin d'Anglure 1986:91). For shamans around Iglulik for instance, Saladin d'Anglure (1986) reports that spirits of these last two categories were always included. A shaman's travels to the supernatural world are also an integral part of Arctic shamanism. Travel is usually by flying: in some cases, the shaman (in spirit) rides the spirit of an animal helper, while at other times, the shaman transforms into the spirit of the animal helper. Inanimate objects are also part of the imagery associated with spirit flight. Projectiles, particularly harpoons (Pitseolak 1975:27-29, see also Barry 1991) and even mittens (Merkur 1985:233-234), have been identified as referring to this element of shamanic practice. Finally, the skeleton is an important image in many shamanistic traditions. Rasmussen (1929) reports that among the Iglulik for instance, the ability to see oneself as a skeleton was crucial for the shaman: Though no shaman can explain to himself how and why, he can, by the power his brain derives from the supernatural, as it were by thought alone, divest his body of its flesh and blood, so that nothing remains but his bones. And he must then name all the parts of his body, mention every single bone by name; and in so doing, he must not use ordinary human speech, but only the special and sacred shaman's language which he has learned from his instructor. By thus seeing himself naked, altogether freed from the perishable and transient flesh and blood, he consecrates himself, in the sacred tongue of the shamans, to his great task,

1975; Taylor and Swinton 1967), with paraphernalia associated with a 'Bear Cult' and/or 'Walrus Cult' (i.e., Larsen 1969/70; McGhee 1974/75; Meldgaard 1960b; Taylor 1975; Taylor and Swinton 1967), and as 'art for art's sake' (see Ta$on 1983b:48). A recurring theme or sub-theme in most of these interpretations is the implied association between Dorset art and 'shamanism', a belief system most commonly associated with indigenous cultures of the circumpolar region: Northern Europe, Northeast Asia, and northern North America. Swinton (Taylor and Swinton 1967) seems to have been the originator of this idea. He felt that Dorset art was the work of specialist shamans, who produced amulets for their own and others' use. More recently, Ta$on (1983a, b) takes issue with this, suggesting that Dorset art was not the work of a few individuals (shamans), but was produced by many people. Of importance here is the distinction made by Ta$on (1983b:56, following Pasztory 1982) between shamanic and shamanistic art. "Shamanic art" is that which pertains specifically to the shaman, while "shamanistic art" is more general and includes representations made by anyone in a shamanistic tradition relating to that tradition, including, for instance, hunting amulets. In his study Ta$on (1983a, b) felt he was unable to identify specific examples of shamanic art, although he believes both types were created during the Late Dorset Horizon. In his terms, then, much of Dorset art is shamanistic, rather than shamanic. McGhee (1985:30), too, takes issue with Swinton, suggesting that while some pieces (such as 'shaman's tubes') probably had a shamanic function, the range of skill and types of imagery represented in the carvings from a single site (Brooman Point) argue against the idea of specialist 'shaman-artists'. What is shamanism? Shamanism is a broadly defined religious system associated with hunter-gatherer cultures around the world, with roots that may go as far back as the Upper Paleolithic (e.g., Hultkrantz 1978; Lommel 1967; Merkur 1985). Shamanistic complexes are known in the ethnographic literature from various areas around the world, but the archetypal shamans are those of the Circumpolar North, and particularly Siberia. Although shamanisms from around the world are notable more for their differences than for their similarities (see Atkinson 1992), there are elements common to these widely dispersed manifestations that make up what might be called a shamanistic complex. Hultkrantz (1978:11) has identified four key 'constituents' of shamanism: the ideological premise, or the supernatural world and the contacts with it; the shaman as the actor on behalf of a human group; the inspiration granted him by his helping spirits; and the extraordinary, ecstatic experiences of the shaman.

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Fig. 2: Carvings from Late Dorset sites on Little Cornwallis Island (top to bottom, right to left): seal, sculpin, swimming bear, bearheaded spatula, walking bear, vertebrae of terrestrial mammal, weasel/loon, two-headed bear, miniature harpoon head, miniature harpoon head, caribou hoof, human, harpoon-headed spatula (note that these are marked with an asterisk [*] in Table 1).

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the central High Arctic have yielded a substantial collection of typical Late Dorset ivory carvings (Helmer et al. 1993; see Figs. 1 and 2). A total of 37 have been identified (Table 1). They have been found in association with both winter and summer habitations, and in discard middens as well. There appears to be no correlation between the type of feature (e.g., dwelling or midden) or season of occupation (warm season vs. cold season) and the presence or style of art pieces encountered. Radiocarbon dates at these sites indicate a period of occupation between 1500 and 800 years ago. Most of these artifacts reflect what is generally considered a preoccupation with shamanistic themes such as hunting magic. However, two pieces are fundamentally different and reflect what we consider to be shamanic themes. What they share in common is a direct representation of transformational imagery, a portrayal of the shaman's ability to adopt a non-human form.

through that part of his body which will longest withstand the action of sun, wind and water, after he is dead. (Rasmussen 1929:114) Shamanism and art We emphasize these aspects of shamanism—animal spirit helpers, spirit transformation and flight, and the skeleton—because they are frequently represented in Inuit and Dorset art, and indeed in many shamanistic art traditions (see, e.g., Lewis-Williams 1981 and Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988). One of the most widespread aspects of shamanistic art is the skeletal or X-ray motif, which is known from virtually every part of the world. Representations of internal structures (including bones and organs) can be relatively realistic, or highly abstracted (contrast the mammalian vertebral column in Fig. 2 with the skeletal motif on the 'shaman's tube' in Fig. 4). Meanings associated with this motif include rebirth and regeneration (both of the shaman and of game animals) as well as the transcendent nature of the shaman. Skeletal representations are known from Inuit art (e.g., Blodgett 1979:41, pi. 5,45, pi. 10), and are common on Dorset carvings. Ta$on (1983b:50) reports that over 30% of the carvings in his sample carried the X-ray motif. At Button Point, no less than 61% of the sample exhibited the X-ray motif. Animals of all sorts are important in both Inuit and Dorset art, and the polar bear (Ursus maritimus) appears to be especially important and powerful. Rasmussen (1929:113) notes that bears, particularly bears in human form, are among a shaman's most important helpers (see also Holtved 1963). Randa (1986) has suggested that among the Inuit the symbolic importance of polar bears derives from their ambiguous position in socially constructed categories: neither of the land nor of the sea, but at home in both worlds; a hunter par excellence, but also hunted. Transcending these socially constructed categories (and others) the polar bear is well situated to act as a mediator between the natural and supernatural in much the same way as the shaman. In Ta9on's sample (1983b:49), bears are second only to humans in frequency of representation. Their importance can also be inferred from the variety of representations identified: from naturalistic, to 'swimming' (more likely flying), to abstract skeletal bears resembling harpoon heads (see Canadian Eskimo Arts Council [1971:pls. 1-5] for a series of bear carvings). Representations of composite beings are also a feature of shamanistic art (Blodgett 1979). In Inuit art these can represent the shaman and his spirit helper(s), or the actual transformation of a shaman into an animal form (see Blodgett 1979:80, pi. 31).

Human/bear transformation The small (5 cm long) three-dimensional ivory carving illustrated in Fig. 3, representing a human/bear transformation, was recovered just outside a small, rectangular, organic patch tentatively identified as a habitation feature (Feature 90) at Qj Jx-10. The piece is bilaterally asymmetrical and depicts the head, forelimbs, and chest of a polar bear emerging from a human pelvis and legs. The upper portion of the figure is more heavily weathered than the lower. The human legs are bent slightly in a posture which may be interpreted as one of dancing or flying. Subtle lines on the calves may indicate mukluks and the bottom of a parka is visible below the hips. No overt genitals are portrayed so the sex of the figure cannot be inferred. The upper portion of the carving is twisted so that the shoulder plane of the bear is at an angle of about thirty degrees to the human pelvic plane. The elongated forelimbs are streamed back, in the posture usually associated with swimming or flying. Overall the general impression created by this piece is one of a painful transformation from person to bear during a trance or spirit journey. This object is atypical of Dorset art in at least three respects: first, it is not bilaterally symmetrical, second, it is not incised with a skeletal/X-ray design, and third and most importantly, the human face is not portrayed. In all of the examples of Dorset transformational imagery with which we are familiar, the human form is seen emerging from the animal form and the human face is depicted, albeit often in a stylized fashion (see Taylor and Swinton 1967:41, fig. 19, for an example). In this piece, the animal form is clearly emerging from the human, and only the human legs are indicated. The unique nature of this piece leads us to argue that it may have been part of the personal paraphernalia of a shaman, and that it represents the shaman's personal ability to transform from human to bear.

Examples of transformation images Recent investigations by the co-authors at three Late Dorset Village' sites on eastern Little Cornwallis Island in

43

Table 1. Late Dorset art from QjJx-1, QjJx-10, and QiLa-3, Little Cornwallis Island Reference

Material

QjJx-1:2 QjJx- 10:670 QjJx- 10:549

ivory ivory antler

QjJx-1 0:3002 QjJx-1:1

Description

X-ray motif

Feature number

Context

present absent absent80

74 90 30

midden possible habitation feature summer tent ring

antler ivory

'shaman's tube' human/bear transformer human figure (dancing posture?)* human leg bear (flying posture)*

absent present

70 19

QjJx-10:146 QjJx-1 0:3001 QjJx-1 0:3022 QjJx-1 0:3006

ivory antler ivory ivory

bear (walking posture) bear (walking posture) bear (walking posture)* two-headed bear*

present absent80 present present

84

QjJx-1 0:3004 QjJx- 10:3007 QjJx- 10:3008 QjJx-1 0:687 QjJx-10:38 QiLa-3:85 QjJx-1 0:546 QjJx-1 0:3000

ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory antler

bear (abstract) bear (abstract) bear (abstract) bear-headed spatula bear-headed spatula* harpoon-headed spatula* spatula spatula

present present present present present absent present absent80

QjJx-1 0:3010 QjJx-1 0:3011 QjJx-1 0:668 QjJx-10:3016 QjJx-1 0:3020 QjJx-1 0:686 QjJx-1 0:3005

antler ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory

present present present absent80 absent absent present

n/a 74

QjJx-10:3017 QjJx-1 0:3003

ivory ivory

spatula spatula seal* seal seal caribou hoof* vertebrae (terrestrial mammal)* weasel/loon* bird (waterfowl)

absent present

84 91

QjJx-1 0:669 QjJx-10:3019 QjJx-10:47 QjJx-10:57 QjJx-1 0:325 QjJx-1 0:3009

ivory ivory antler ivory ivory ivory

sculpin* king eider duck head miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head

present absent absent80 absent80 absent absent80

84 84 n/a n/a 90 91

QjJx-10:3012 QjJx-10:3013 QjJx-10:3014 QjJx-10:3015 QjJx-10:3018 QjJx-1 0:3021 QjJx-10:50 QjJx-10:133

ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory ivory antler

miniature harpoon head* miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head* miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head miniature harpoon head adze-shaped peg incised object

absent absent present present absent80 absent absent present?

84 84 84 84 84 84 n/a 79

midden semi-subterranean winter house midden midden summer tent ring semi-subterranean winter house midden midden midden surface surface midden summer tent ring semi-subterranean winter house midden midden/tent ring midden midden midden surface semi-subterranean winter house midden semi-subterranean winter house midden midden surface surface possible habitation feature semi-subterranean winter house midden midden midden midden midden midden surface midden/tent ring

* Denotes pieces illustrated in Fig. 1 t so in "X-ray motif" column denotes surface degraded

44

70 30 59 84 84 70

n/a n/a 3 30 59

84 79 70 84 84

erally symmetrical and has four distinct but interrelated incised design elements on the front. The back is missing and the piece has split longitudinally, the damage caused by weathering and lichens. The proximal end of the tube is flat and largely undecorated and the ornamental elements are concentrated in the medial and distal portions. The left and right lateral design elements are nearly identical portrayals of walruses. The tusks of both examples are broken off, but they would have projected inwards, possibly interlocking towards the middle of the piece. Visible surface details like whiskers and eyes are indicated, as well as invisible sub-surface details, like ribs and spine. The fore-flippers are clearly depicted in the folded-back position (see Fig. 4 inset for location of selected features), with individual nails recognizable. The hind-flippers of the right-hand walrus are visible near the proximal end. Weathering obscures the left side. The walrus fore-flippers constitute a bridging design element between the flanking walrus images and the distal/ central seal figure. This image is viewed from above and oriented with the head down, opposite the orientation of the walrus portrayals. The folded-back fore-flippers of the walruses constitute the splayed-out fore-flippers of the seal. The seal's hind-flippers, positioned between the faces of the two walrus, are clearly delineated and are held straight back in a swimming position. The X-ray motif is again apparent on this piece, with two sets of rib lines apparent on the left and right sides. The shape of the seal's head, located in the center of the piece, is not distinctly portrayed, although individual facial features are. Eyes, nostrils, and mouth are all depicted in an unconventional but effective fashion. The facial features of the seal constitute a bridging element with the fourth motif: the stylized portrayal of a human face. The various elements of the inverted seal face (eyes, nostrils, and mouth) combine to form the respective component features of the oppositely oriented human face. The face is a circular excised area in the medial surface of the piece with the eyes and nostrils indicated by circular holes, the mouth by a straight groove, and the ears by shallow incised ovals. Small linear slashes in a continuous line above the eyes may indicate eyebrows, tattoos, or a hairline. Small incised dots around the edge of the face and the eye, nose, and chin area may indicate facial tattooing and/or facial hair. Overall, the impression left by this piece is of two walrus helpers' or 'observers' participating in a transformation between seal and human forms. Unlike the human/bear figure discussed above, the 'shaman's tube' presents the idea of transformation in a more conventional Late Dorset artistic format. The human face emerges from the inverted seal figure, and common design conventions like bilateral symmetry and skeletal motifs are respected. The wide distribution noted above of very similar artifacts, all with a clearly ritual function,

Fig. 3: Human/bear transformer (QjJx-10:670). The right arm is broken off.

'Shaman's tube' The fragments of a 12 cm long decorated ivory cylinder were recovered in a midden deposit at Qj Jx-1. This tube (Fig. 4) is very similar in both form and embellishment to pieces identified as * shaman's tubes' or utensil cases in Late Dorset contexts across the Eastern Arctic (see Fig. 1), where no fewer than nine have been identified (Holtved 1944:277, pi. 1, no. 26 [Ruin Island]; Schledermann 1990:164,173, pi. 29t [Knud Peninsula]; Sutherland pers. comm. 1994 [Buchanan Lake]; Maxwell 1985:164, fig. 6.30,230, pi. 7.28a [Brooman Point]; Taylor 1971/72:4243 [Button Point]; Taylor and Swinton 1967:42, fig. 20d, c, d; 43, fig. 23 [Iglulik and Manse 11 Island]).3 It is bilat-

45

Fig. 4a and b: 'Shaman's tube' (QjJx-1:2). Line drawing on left identifies some important features: (A) walrus, (B) walrus foreflippers, (C) walrus hind-flipper, (D) seal hind-flippers, (E) seal x-ray motif, (F) seal/human face.

meaning, or implied association with shamanism (with the possible exception of Taylor and Swinton 1967 and Ta^on 1983a, b) have ever been critically examined. Furthermore, most of these theories have focused either on the relatively few examples of Dorset art recovered from a single site or on museum specimens, many of which do not have a firm provenience or contextual association with other artifacts. Although such studies certainly have contributed to our potential understanding of the spatial, temporal, and ideological parameters of Dorset culture they cannot be considered comprehensive, representative, or broadly conclusive. Considering only two pieces in detail, we cannot claim to have presented the final word, in any sense, on Late Dorset art. With this paper, we have shown that Late Dorset art has both shamanic and shamanistic aspects, but we have left many questions unanswered. Perhaps the most interesting of these concerns the underlying causes of the florescence of the general Dorset carving tradition in Late Dorset times. McGhee's (1980) and Talon's (1983a, b) suggestions that it is due to a crisis caused by a deteriorating climate and incursions by Thule peoples are interesting, but may have to be reconsidered in light of Park's

suggests that these artifacts are material manifestations of similar belief systems and/or ritual activities. It further suggests that these artifacts functioned in the public domain of shamanic ritual. Consequently, we feel that this artifact was part of a shaman's public paraphernalia, exposed or used in shamanic performances. Thus, even though we cannot say definitively that it was used as a 'sucking tube' or 'soul catcher' during curing ceremonies, for instance (a common interpretation of similar finds, i.e., McGhee 1980), it seems likely that it functioned in a similar context. The regular recurrence of the same design elements arranged in the same fashion over such a broad area suggests the existence of a common mythic inspiration. The variability in the actual form of these artifacts may represent either individual artistic license or it may reflect the infrequent nature of the ritual activity associated with the structural myth and so some 'drift' in the way it is portrayed (see Sterner [1992] for a similar example among potters in Cameroon). Summary and conclusions Despite the long-standing interest in Dorset art, none of the theories raised about its taxonomic status, cultural

46

Notes

(1993) reinterpretation of Dorset/Thule contact. Also of interest is a more detailed understanding of Late Dorset shamanism, and its relation to Thule/Inuit shamanism. As we pointed out above, they are clearly very similar, but also different in important ways. We are hopeful that this contribution will encourage others to take a closer, more careful look at this remarkably rich artistic tradition. The very existence of Late Dorset art suggests thatLate Dorset and Thule/Inuit shamanisms were not precisely congruent. Small, portable carvings, relatively rare in Thule/Inuit contexts, are common, if not abundant in Late Dorset sites. For whatever reasons, Thule/Inuit people did not express their shamanistic world view in this material fashion (this is not to say that they did not use amulets, but rather that their amulets were of a different form). Whether this has to do with stress in the Late Dorset Horizon, as suggested by Tagon (1983a, b) and McGhee (1980), remains to be demonstrated. Despite these differences, we feel that there are strong similarities between these shamanistic traditions, similarities that allow us to read some meaning into Late Dorset art. These may be attributed to the two cultures sharing in a widespread 'symbolic reservoir' (Macintosh 1989), associated with a common shamanistic tradition. While we are not able to reconstruct the myth(s) or legend(s) behind the remarkable series of'shaman's tubes', we feel confident in saying that some sort of myth or belief is represented, one involving transformation between human and seal (the role of the walrus remains indeterminate). The large geographical area over which such similar pieces have been found gives further weight to our suggestion that these pieces may have functioned in shamanic performances, rather than as hunting magic or some other aspect of shamanistic art. Equally, we are confident that the human/bear transformation is a unique representation of shamanic practice, rather than part of the relatively large body of shamanistic art

1. Late Dorset culture is replaced by Thule around 1000B.P. over mostof its range. However, in some regions, particularly Northern Quebec and Labrador, there are Late Dorset sites dated as recently as 500 B.P. (Badgley 1980). 2. Although it is questionable that the carvings and engravings that archaeologists refer to as Dorset art are "art" in the Western European sense, for simplicity we will keep to current usage. 3. We include here only tubes that have some or all of the main design elements seen in Fig. 4. Thus, all of these tubes have two facing walruses. At least six of the nine have a human face between the two walruses, while two more are too fragmentary or eroded for such a face to be visible. A central seal or other figure is less common, being clearly visible on only two of the nine, both from Iglulik.

References Atkinson, J. M. 1992. Shamanisms Today. Annual Review of Anthropology 21:307-330. Badgley, 1.1980. Stratigraphy and Habitation Features at DIA 4 (JfEl-4), Arctic Quebec. Arctic 33(3):569584. Barry, P. S. 1991. Mystical Themes in Milk River Rock Art. University of Alberta Press, Edmonton. Blodgett, J. 1979. The Comings and Goings of the Shaman: Eskimo Shamanism and Art. Winnipeg Art Gallery, Winnipeg. Canadian Eskimo Arts Council. 1971. Sculpturellnuit: Sculpture of the Inuit: Masterworks of the Canadian Arctic. University of Toronto Press, Toronto. Collins, H. 1937. Archaeology of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska. Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections 96 (1). Washington, DC. De Laguna, F. 1947. The Prehistory of Northern North America as Seen from the Yukon. Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology 3. Salt Lake City. Harp, E., Jr. 1953. New World Affinities of Cape Dorset Eskimo Culture. Anthropological Papers of the University of Alaska l(2):37-54. 1969/70. Late Dorset Art From Newfoundland. Folk 11/12:109-124. 1974/75. A Late Dorset Copper Amulet from Southeastern Hudson Bay. Folk 16/17:33-44. Helmer, J. W. 1981. Climate Change and Late Dorset Culture Change in the Crozier Strait Region, N.W.T.: A Test of the Hypothesis. Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Archaeology, University of Calgary. 1986. A Face from the Past: An Early PreDorset Ivory Maskette from Devon Island, N.W.T. ZtudeslInuitlStudies 10(1-2): 179-202. 1994. Resurrecting the Spirit(s) of Taylor's

Acknowledgments Research on Little Cornwallis Island was supported by a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada grant to Helmer and LeMoine (no. 401-92-0285), by the Polar Continental Shelf Project, Department of Energy, Mines and Resources, by the Northern Scientific Training Program, Department of Indian and Northern Affairs, and by Cominco (Polaris Mine Operation) Limited. We are grateful to Sharon Hanna, Roy Larick, Daniel Odess, Scott MacEachern, Pat Sutherland, and an anonymous reviewer for their comments on this paper. All errors and omissions remain our own. We also owe thanks to Kathleen Ryan and Pam Crab tree for inviting us to contribute to this volume, thereby prodding us into thinking about these carvings. Finally, we would like to thank Dr. Gerald Newlands for his superb photographs.

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Historical Perspective. Anthropos 59:546-596. Mary-Rousseliere, G. 1964. Paleo-Eskimo Remains in the Pelly Bay Region, N.W.T. National Museum of Canada Bulletin 193:162-183. 1970. An Important Archaeological Discovery. Eskimo 84:18-24. 1971. New Discoveries of Masks at Button Point. Eskimo 2:19 Mathiassen T. 1927. Archaeology of the Central Eskimo, 2 vols. Report of the Fifth Thule Expedition 1921-24, Vol. 4 (1-2). Copenhagen. 1928. Material Culture of the Iglulik Eskimos. Report of the Fifth Thule Expedition 1921-24, Vol. 6 (1). Copenhagen. Maxwell, M. 1985. Prehistory of the Eastern Arctic. Academic Press, New York. McGhee, R. 1974/75. Late Dorset Art from Dundas Island, Arctic Canada. Folk 16/17:133-145. 1980. Ancient Fine Art is Found in the High Arctic. Canadian Geographic 100(2): 18-23. 1981. The Prehistory and Prehistoric Art of the Canadian Inuit. The Beaver 312(1):23-30. 1985. Ancient Animals: The Dorset Collection from Brooman Point. In Uuumajut: Animal Imagery in Inuit Art, ed. Bernadette Driscoll, pp. 21-30. Winnipeg Art Gallery, Winnipeg. Meldgaard, J. 1960a. Origin and Evolution of Eskimo Cultures in the Eastern Arctic. Canadian GeographicalJournal 6Q(2):64-19 1960b. Eskimo Sculpture. Methuen, London. Merkur, D. 1985. Becoming Half Hidden: Shamanism and Initiation Among the Inuit. Acta Universitatis Stockholmensis, Stockholm Studies in Comparative Religion 24. Almqvist and Wiksell International, Stockholm. Miiller-Beck, H. J. 1977. Excavations at Umingmak on Banks Island, N.W.T., 1970 and 1973 Preliminary Report. Urgeschichtliche Materialhefte 1. Verlag Archaeologica Venatoria Institut fur Urgeschichte der Universitat Tubingen. Park, R. 1993. The Thule-Dorset Succession in Arctic North America: Assessing Claims for Culture Contact. American Antiquity 58:203-234. Pasztory E. 1982. Shamanism and North American Indian Art. In Native North American Art History: Selected Readings, ed. X. P. Mathews and A. Jonaitis, pp. 7-30. Peek Publication, Palo Alto, CA. Pitseolak P. 1975. People from Our Side. Hurting, Edmonton. Randa, V. 1986. Au croisement des espaces et de destins: nanuq "marginal exemplaire"—Un cas de mediation animale dans 1'Arctique central canadien. Etudes/Inuit/Studies 10 (1-2): 159-169. Rasmussen, K. 1929. Intellectual Culture of the Iglulik

"Carlsberg Culture'*: Cultural Traditions and Cultural Horizons in Eastern Arctic Prehistory. In Threads of Arctic Prehistory: Papers in Honour of William E. Taylor Jr., ed. D. Morrison and J.-L. Pilon, pp. 1534. Canadian Museum of Civilization Mercury Series Paper 149. Ottawa. Helmer, J. W., G. LeMoine, and D. Hanna. 1993. Central High Arctic Archaeology Programme (C.H.A.A.P.): Report of the 1992 Field Season. Report to the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre, Yellowknife. Holtved, E. 1944. Archaeological Investigations in the Thule District. Meddelelser om Gr0nland 141 (1). 1963 Tornarssuk, an Eskimo Deity. Folk 5:157172. Hultkrantz, A. 1978. Introduction: Ecological and Phenomenological Aspects of Shamanism. In Studies in Lapp Shamanism, by L. Backman and A. Hultkrantz, pp. 9-35. Acta Universitatis Stockholmensis, Stockholm Studies in Comparative Religion 16. Almqvist and Wiksell International, Stockholm. Jenness, D. 1925. A New Eskimo Culture in Hudson Bay. Geographical Review 15:428-437. 1933 The Problem of the Eskimo. In The American Aborigines: Their Origin and Antiquity, ed. D. Jenness, pp. 373-396. University of Toronto Press, Toronto. Jordan, R. 1979/80. Dorset Art from Labrador. Folk 217 22:397-417. Larsen, H. 1969/70. Some Examples of the Bear Cult among the Eskimo and other Northern People. Folk 11/12:24-41. Larsen, H., and F. Rainey. 1948. Ipiutak and the Arctic Whale Hunting Culture. Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol 42. Lethbridge, T. C. 1939. Archaeological Data from the Canadian Arctic. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 69(2): 187233. Lewis-Williams, J. D. 1981. Believing and Seeing: Symbolic Meaning in Southern San Rock Paintings. Academic Press, London. Lewis-Williams, J. D., and T. A. Dowson. 1988. The Signs of All Times: Entoptic Phenomena in Upper Paleolithic Art. Current Anthropology 29:201-245. Lommel, A. 1967. Shamanism: The Beginnings of Art. McGraw Hill, New York. Lyons, D. 1982. Regionalism of Dorset Art Style: A Comparative Analysis of Stylistic Variability in Five Dorset Art Samples. Unpublished Master's thesis, Department of Archaeology, University of Calgary. Macintosh, R. 1989. Middle Niger Terracottas Before the Symplegades Gateway. African Arts 25(2):74-83. Martijn, C. A. 1964. Canadian Eskimo Carving in

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Taylor, W. E., Jr. 1968. The Arnapik and Tyara Sites: An Archaeological Study of Dorset Cultural Origins. Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology 22. Salt Lake City. 1971. Taisumanialuk—Prehistoric Canadian Eskimo Art. In Sculpture/Inuit: Sculpture of the Inuit: Masterworks of the Canadian Arctic, pp. 2528. Canadian Eskimo Arts Council, University of Toronto Press, Toronto. 1971/72. Found Art—and Frozen. Artscanada 162/163:32-47. 1975. Speculations and Hypotheses on Shamanism in the Dorset Culture of Canada. In Valamonica symposium '72, Actes du symposium international sur les religions de la prehistoire. Capo di Ponte. Taylor, W. E., Jr., and G. Swinton. 1967. Prehistoric Dorset Art: A Discussion by an Archaeologist and an Artist. The Beaver 298:32-47. Thompson, C. 1981. Preliminary Archaeological Findings from Shuldam Island, Labrador. In Archaeology in Newfoundland and Labrador 1980, ed. J. Sproull-Thompson and B. Ronson, pp. 5-25. Annual Report 1, Newfoundland Museum. St. John's. 1982. Archaeological Findings from Saglek Bay, 1981. In Archaeology in Newfoundland and Labrador 1981, ed. J. Sproull-Thompson and C. Thompson, pp. 5-31. Annual Report 2, Newfoundland Museum. St. John's.

Rasmussen, K. 1929. Intellectual Culture of the Iglulik Eskimo. Report of the Fifth Thule Expedition 192124, Vol. 7(1). Copenhagen. Rowley, G. W. 1940. The Dorset Culture of the Eastern Arctic. American Anthropologist 42:490-499. Saladin d'Anglure, B. 1986. Du foetus au chamane; la contruction d'un "troisieme sexe" inuit. Etudes/Inuit/ Studies 10 (l-2):25-U3. Schledermann, P. 1978. Distribution of Archaeological Sites in the Vicinity of the Proposed Polar Gas Pipeline. Ms on file, Polar Gas Project, Calgary, Alberta. 1990. Crossroads to Greenland: 3000 Years of Prehistory in the Eastern High Arctic. Komatik Series 2. Arctic Institute of North America, Calgary. Sterner, J. 1992. Sacred Pots and 'Symbolic Reservoirs' in the Mandara Highlands of Northern Cameroon. In An African Commitment: Papers in Honor of P. L. Shinnie, ed. J. Sterner and N. David, pp. 171-180. University of Calgary Press, Calgary. Ta$on, P. 1983a. An Analysis of the Function and Meaning of Prehistoric Dorset An in Relation to Cultural and Environmental Stress. Unpublished Master's thesis, Department of Anthropology, Trent University (Peterborough, Ontario). 1983b. An Analysis of Dorset Art in Relation to Prehistoric Culture Stress. Etudes/Inuit/Studies 7(l):41-65.

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Fig. 1: Location of archaeological sites mentioned in the text.

50

WHY CHICKENS? THE CENTRALITY OF THE DOMESTIC FOWL IN WEST AFRICAN RITUAL AND MAGIC

Kevin C. MacDonald The Institute of Archaeology, University College London, 31-34 Gordon Square, London WC1H OPY

ABSTRACT The chicken was first introduced into West Africa during the middle of the first millennium A.D. Despite such a relatively recent installation, the chicken may be seen to hold a central role in the region's folklore. This paper explains the extent and nature of the domestic fowl's presence in West African domestic life, and questions why it—and not another animal—should hold such a position of mythic power.

Introduction The chicken was first introduced into West Africa during the middle of the first millennium A.D. (MacDonald 1992; MacDonald and Edwards 1993). Despite such a relatively recent installation, the chicken may be seen to hold a central role in the region's ritual and symbolic life. The chicken's representation in West African art, its use in ritual, and its iconographic importance have been left largely unexamined. This brief paper will present hypotheses to explain the domestic fowl's presence in West African symbolic life, and questions why it—and not another animal—should hold such a position of mythic power.

mounds of Gao-Sany (from deposits dated to A.D. 9001200 on the basis of associated ceramics; Insoll in press), Akumbu (from numerous contexts, Mound A, A.D. 10001400; Togola 1993), Toguere Gailia (located near Jennejeno, from mixed period III contexts, A.D. 1000-1600; Bedaux et al. 1978), Toguere Doupwil (from mixed period n contexts, A.D. 1225-1400; Bedaux et al. 1978), and Dia (from Unit D6, A.D. 1400-1600; MacDonald 1992). Unverified occurrences of "domestic fowl" or "chicken/ guineafowl" are known from sites in both Nigeria and Ghana. At the settlement mound of Daima in northern Nigeria, Connah (1981) cited domestic fowl remains from Daima III contexts (spits 3-4, A.D. 950-1150). Chicken or guineafowl remains also occurred in many of the postKintampo period spits at Daboy a in northern Ghana (Shinnie and Kense 1989). From the contextual data given, however, it is difficult to ascertain where these remains cluster temporally in this site's long occupation (Shinnie and Kense 1989:223-227). Equally, it is interesting to note the total absence of chicken remains from several well-researched sites in the Middle Senegal Valley. The faunal remains from extensive excavations at Cubalel and Sioure were studied by the author and Rachel Hutton MacDonald, but yielded only a great number of bones attributable to the guineafowl (Numida meleagris), and no chicken remains (Mclntosh et al. 1992; MacDonald and MacDonald n.d.). The occupational sequence of these sites spans the period A.D. 1-950 (ibid.).

Osteological remains from West Africa Although most relevant finds have been presented in greater detail in previous works, it may be useful to repeat them here in an abbreviated form (cf. MacDonald 1992; MacDonald and Edwards 1993). The chicken, originally a southeast Asian domesticate, reached Africa only comparatively recently. The earliest verified chicken (Callus gallus) remains from West Africa are those from Phase III contexts (A.D. 400-850) at the early urban center of Jennejeno, Mali (Fig. 1; MacDonald 1992). These remains represent both male and female individuals and are from general refuse contexts (Mclntosh 1995). Other verified remains, also from contexts associated with general food refuse, are known elsewhere in Mali from the settlement

51

weights' from the Ashanti tradition. These include depictions of a cockerel, a chicken's head, and a chicken's foot and are taken to illustrate various Ashanti proverbs (e.g., cockerel = "when the feathers of the fowl grow, they still remain attached to its body," meaning that though a chief s subject prospers he still owes the chief allegiance) (Garrard 1980:204). Plass (1967:fig. 72) and Garrard (1980:fig. 50) both illustrate good examples of the 'cockerel' variety. Chickens by no means dominate the gold-weight representations; instead hornbills, crocodiles, and snakes are among some of the most popular depictions. Still, the chicken has a special place in Ashanti folklore and religion, which proclaims that one who sees a golden hen emerging from the ground is in the presence of God (Garrard 1980). Within Ashanti society, the chicken also features as a frequent motif on the modeled clay walls of traditional shrines or 'fetish houses' (Swithenbank 1969). Often this is as a pair of cocks facing each other, or with their heads arching over their backs (Swithenbank 1969:figs. 33, 42, 44,69). Although such shrines are continually maintained and remodeled, the architectural tradition to which they belong dates back to the eighteenth century. However, some of the most striking uses of chicken iconography undoubtedly occur among the peoples of southeastern Nigeria. The earliest and best known examples of chicken representation within this tradition are the 'bronze' cocks of Benin, now known in fact to be made of brass (cf. Shaw 1978), and probably dating to around A.D. 1550 (see Fig. 2). These figures, of which at least 15 are known, all stand around 50 cm in height and are naturalistic depictions (Fagg and List 1963:fig. 44; Shaw 1978:fig. 132; Gillon 1984:fig. 191). It is generally believed that they all hail from ancestral shrines dedicated to the Queen Mothers of Benin (ibid.). Historically, lesser chiefs are known to have made similar offerings in wood (cf. Fagg and List 1963:fig. 104a). Slightly earlier, but less widely known, terracotta representations of chickens have been excavated by Eyo (1976) in the modern Yoruba town of Owo. Statuettes recovered from a putative shrine at the site of Igbo'Laja include a seated cock (Eyo and Willet 1980:124) and a female figure holding a cock (presumably as a sacrificial offering; Eyo and Willet 1980:121). These finds have been dated on associated wood charcoal to the fifteenth century (Eyo 1976; Eyo and Wilett 1980). In the Yoruba art of the past century, the chicken has functioned as a figure of great symbolic importance. Its centrality is expressed within a tradition of wooden sculpture depicting a woman associated with a disproportionately larger chicken (McCall 1978). These sculptures are associated with the key religious role played by the domestic fowl as lie Ife, the "Cosmic Chicken" or "Earth Spreader," the magical servant of the deity Odudwa, who by its scratching created the Earth's terrestrial surface (McCall

Clearly, despite the exceptionally early dates for chicken at Jenne-jeno, it would appear that the domestic fowl was not a common animal in West Africa during the first millennium A.D. Indeed, the accounts of Arab travelers in West Africa only begin to mention the chicken in the fourteenth century (i.e., the writings of Ibn Battuta and alOmari, cf. Lewicki 1974:90). This, however, may only be an artifact of the paucity and lack of detail in * travelogues' before this time, since archaeological evidence from both western and eastern Africa suggests that the chicken rapidly became widespread after A.D. 1000 (MacDonald 1992; MacDonald and Edwards 1993). Thus, in the first millennium A.D., these birds probably arrived at the major trade entrepots of West Africa such as Jenne-jeno, and only later slowly diffused to more isolated rural areas. The archaeological hypothesis that chickens reached West Africa along east-west sahelo-sudanic trade routes, has recently been buttressed by linguistic data suggesting that the stem word "Kokol" passed with modifications from the Nilo-Saharan language group to Chadic and finally to Niger-Congo (MacDonald and Edwards 1993; Williamson n.d.). Unfortunately, subsequent to the chicken's arrival in the savanna, it is difficult to fix a date or a point of origin for its first entrance into the West African forest zone. Shaw (1961:80-81 and 1962) cited no domestic fowl remains from the sequence at Dawu in southern Ghana (ca. A.D. 1550-1680), despite recovering numerous smaller animal remains such as those of rodents and duikers. On the West African coast, the presence of chickens at the Portuguese/Dutch trading fort of Elmina during the late sixteenth century has been established by early written sources (de Marees 1602). Of additional interest, chicken remains have been found in putative ritual deposits beneath house floors at Elmina dating to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (DeCorse 1992 and pers. comm.) Elsewhere, poor bone preservation has severely hampered most archaeozoological efforts. Indeed, our most tangible data from the forest zone comes from art historical sources. Representations of the domestic fowl in art Artistic representations of chickens pre-dating the colonial era are rare in West Africa. The definite sculptures that do exist come from the far south in Nigeria and Ghana. There are several ambiguous 'bird representations' among the terracotta statuette tradition of the Middle Niger (ca. A.D. 1000-1400) (Gillon 1984), although none that I have seen are indicative of cocks, and those that could be interpreted as hens may also easily represent other fowls (e.g., Francolins). Within the Ashanti artistic tradition of cast-metal weights (ca. A.D. 1350-1900) there are numerous representations of domestic fowls, particularly in the more elaborate figurative weights of the Late Period (ca. A.D. 1700-1900). Garrard (1980) cites three varieties of 'chicken

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Fig. 2: Pair of brass cocks from Benin. Figures of cocks may have been placed on the altars of Queen Mothers. (Photo courtesy of University of Pennsylvania Museum, ace. no. AF 2065a and b. Height, ca. 52 and 51 cm, respectively.)

1978:134, 138; Ojo 1979). Indeed it should be noted that the very names of Ife the town and Ife the kingdom derive from that of this giant bird. Two of McCall's (1978) speculations about this giant bird are worthy of further note. First, he cites the presence of pigeons as groundspreading assistants to He Ife in some Yoruba oral traditions. This indicates to him that the chicken may have replaced the pigeon as the "marvelous bird" of myth at some distant point in history. Secondly, he notes concerning wooden art objects that "although the life of a sculpture may be short, the life of the motif which it expressed could be long" (McCall 1978:137). If long-term motif duration in wooden art is a valid concept, then there may be some reason to believe that modern traditions possessing chicken iconography rendered in wood have a degree of time depth potentially equal to or greater than those traditions known in brass or bronze. Chickens have a particularly strong symbolic role in the wooden sculpture of the Akan peoples of Ivory Coast and Ghana, especially among the Baoule (Holas 1966); and in the previously mentioned Yoruba tradition of Nigeria (McCall 1978). This may also be the case among the various Mande peoples of Mali, for whom wooden representations of cocks, albeit of a more schematic nature, are still seen as symbols of power (Diaby pers. comm.). Often

these simple depictions, hardly meriting a plate in an art historical treatise, may be seen sitting on the roofs of huts in southern Mali (pers. observation). Such representations, of course, imply the deep symbolic importance of the chicken in the region, an importance more clearly expressed in modern animistic rites. The ritual role of the chicken in West Africa "Sorko," Serci began in a quavering and distant voice. "A white chicken, a red chicken and a red and white speckled chicken must be sacrificed." "Good," the sorko said. "And what else?" "Sorko. The young boy must take the egg of a white hen and bury it at the base of the gao tree which is at the crossroads at the eastern edge of town." "Praise be to God," the sorko proclaimed. "Sorko. If these things are done, the marriage will bring healthy children into the world." (Stoller and Olkes 1987:97) There are few peoples in West Africa for whom the chicken is not traditionally the primary offering of sacrifice. In many ethnic groups this predilection has been well documented, including: the Songhai of Mali and Niger

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tempted to introduce the 'Rhode Island Red' poultry breed to northern Ivory Coast. These plump fowls, imported in large numbers and at great expense, originally met with the delighted approval of the populace. Until, however, they began to be used in the aforementioned divination rituals. Here, these fat little chickens performed miserably, falling continually on their weighty breast instead of upon their side. Needless to say, the 'Rhode Island Reds' were soon all given the happy dispatch, and the lighter indigenous breeds re-installed to their rightful place in society.

(Stoller and Olkes 1987), the Mande peoples of Mali, Guinea, and Ivory Coast (McNaughton 1988; Togola pers. comm.), the Lobi of Burkina Faso and Ivory Coast (Cros 1990), the Mende of Sierra Leone (Little 1951), the Ashanti of Ghana (Rattray 1927; Garrard 1980), the Yoruba of Nigeria (McCall 1978; Ojo 1979), the Nupe of Nigeria (Nadel 1954), and the Chamba of Nigeria and Cameroon (Pardon 1990). Chickens may be offered as sacrifices for the consecration of cyclical ceremonies (such as the cleansing Mamma ritual in Nupe society; Nadel 1954), or in initiation ceremonies (Cros 1990:204), or as particularistic acts of attonement for transgressions (Cros 1990:224225), or as offerings to ancestral shrines or fetishes (Ojo 1979). Garrard (1980:138) notes their use in Ashanti gold mining as key sacrifices both upon finding gold nuggets, and upon being consistently unsuccessful in a particular mine. Additionally they may be used as a key ingredient in acts of sorcery (Stoller and Olkes 1987). In most cases the color and sex of the bird is specified for the specific rite in which it is to be used. For example, various Malinke informants in the Monts Manding region of Mali explained to me that red or white cocks were used to fulfill particular ritual sacrifices, but that hens were never appropriate. Similarly, Cros (1990) repeatedly notes the primacy of red cocks as a means of sacrifice among the Lobi. Chicken eggs may also have a ritual significance, and are sometimes used in tandem with sacrifices of the actual bird. Rattray (1927) relates in a particularly vivid fashion an Ashanti sacrifice to a tree dwelling spirit which involved the breaking and rubbing of eggs on the tree in tandem with the bleeding necks of sacrificed chickens. Divination is, of course, another important ritual function in which the chicken often plays a starring role (McNaughton 1988; Pardon 1990). McNaughton (1988:55) relates a common divinatory procedure among Mande peoples: Chickens can be used to check the efficacy of sacrifices for which they have just been killed. Their necks are cut and their blood is used as an offering. They are then tossed several yards away, and when they come to rest, a seer examines their positions. If both legs are down, the earth, ancestors and malevolence are suggested, and an additional sacrifice will be made to help convert that chance into benevolence. If the chicken lies on its side, with its top leg in front of the bottom leg, the forces of earth and sky are in harmony and the sacrifice judged a success. An anecdote which demonstrates the pre-eminence of the chicken's ritual value over its alimentary worth was related to me several years ago by Dr. Tereba Togola of Tlnstitut des Sciences Humaines (Bamako, Mali). In another tale of 'development' gone wrong, it would appear that about a decade ago a nameless aid organization at-

Why chickens? The foregoing passages have been used to illustrate the unusual importance of the chicken in West African ritual life. The great question then remains, why is this so? Some may quickly argue that chickens make excellent sacrifices as they are less valuable than sheep or goats. But let us not forget that in West Africa there exist in ready numbers domestic animals of similar or lesser value, such as guineafowl and dogs. Additionally, we must remember that chickens are not used merely as sacrifices or tools of divination, but also as important symbols within many groups' cosmologies: a role often shared with more 'impressive' animals such as lions, crocodiles, snakes, and large antelope. Why then, out of the humble pantheon of domestic animals, has the chicken been chosen in West Africa as a sacred cow? To reach an understanding we must search in the deeper mists of time. In the middle of the first millennium A.D., when chickens were first introduced to sub-Saharan Africa, most other domestic animals had the semblance of being 'indigenous'. In other words, though cattle, sheep, goats, and dogs are not indigenous to sub-Saharan Africa in a natural historical sense, the inhabitants of the zone who had possessed them for many millennia must have deemed them to be so. It should be remembered that it is very likely that the guineafowl was already a popular 'kept bird' at the time of the chicken's arrival in West Africa. Today, there are as of yet no studies which allow an osteological differentiation between wild and domestic guineafowl, with the result that they are archaeologically indistinguishable. My own tentative efforts in this direction indicate that such differences as may be found will be metrical rather than morphological. Still, the uniqueness and uniformity of the domestic guineafowl's plumage, and their presence through importation in Europe during the time of Rome, implies some degree of time depth for their domestication (Mongin and Plouzeau 1984). If such birds were already kept on the chicken's arrival, what so distinguished this newcomer that it would replace the guineafowl in almost every ritual context? The chicken reached West Africa at a critical juncture. The Empire of Ghana, or what might be more properly regarded as its antecedents, came into being around A.D.

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tially be manipulated and established by elites. Secondly, the cock and hen's exotic appearance and behavior easily created a new and important niche for them in West Africa's animal mythology. This article represents an essay into modern symbolic territory by an archaeologist. We are without systematically collected ethnographic data concerning the chicken for most West African societies. Further ethnographic research and synthesis, and contextual archaeological studies, are needed to buttress or to discredit, these tentative hypotheses.

400 (Davidson 1977; Levtzion 1985). A unique form of West African urbanism was emerging and 'complex societies' were becoming widespread. Therefore, the chicken and other foreign goods entering the area would have found a society controlled by elites with wide trading networks. If they had arrived previously they may have been assimilated economically with little additional consequence, but they arrived at a time when West Africans were experiencing a greater degree of social self-awareness and inter-communication than ever before. There seems little doubt that their initial rarity would have made them a prestige object in the first instance. It was probably at this point that cocks acquired their widespread iconographic value as symbols of power and divinity. Soon, as they became rapidly more available to the general populace, their very nature created further special niches for them within African society. One can cite several facets of the domestic fowl's physiology and behavior as being worthy of special consideration by those who originally encounter it. Unlike the guineafowl, a species in which male and female can be distinguished only with difficulty, the chicken has a pronounced sexual dimorphism with such additional features as the cock's comb, wattle, and spurs. The egg production of the chicken also far exceeds that of its indigenous competitor. In laboratory conditions wild junglefowl are known to lay ca. 62.5 eggs per year, while the wild guineafowl lays only ca. 15 eggs in a limited two-month laying season (Crawford 1984; Mongin and Plouzeau 1984). Free-range domestic chickens lay on average 181 eggs per year, compared with only 100 for domestic freerange guineafowl (ibid.). Chickens are also more tractable than guineafowl, returning consistently to the same 'home area' each night. In contrast, guineafowl are likely to go feral (Ashbrook 1951). Finally, we must not forget other unique traits, such as the cock's crow in the morning. All of these unique characteristics make good pegs upon which to hang the regalia of symbolism: proverbs, iconographic values, and myths. Cole and Ross (1977) cite the use of the hen and cock at the head of Ashanti governmental staves of the late nineteenth century. Together they symbolize power and wisdom: the hen knows when it is dawn, but leaves it to the cock (its chief) to announce it. The eggs of the prolific hen feature in many fertility rituals, a cock crowing in the middle of the night symbolizes an aberration that may bring down a chief, the chicken's incessant scratching creates the earth's surface, and so on ... In a search of the natural world for characters to relate morals and cosmology, the chicken is a versatile play-actor. Thus, in summary, I would assert that two factors account for the centrality of the chicken in West African ritual and magic. First, the chicken was introduced at a time of social complexity when its symbolic power could ini-

Acknowledgments I would like to thank Kathleen Ryan for her support, patience, and enthusiasm through various 'fowl' research projects in America, Ireland, and Great Britain. In Mali, Dr. Tereba Togola, my longtime friend and colleague, has also always been ready to discuss the place of the chicken in African society with me and is a continual source of inspiration. Dr. Christopher DeCorse, of Syracuse University, provided many valuable comments on the first draft of this paper which have significantly improved this final version. Additionally, I would like to acknowledge with thanks, though they be too numerous to name, all of my Bambara, Songhai, Peulh, Dogon, andMalinke friends with whom I have conversed around countless hearths during the past five years. Finally, I would particularly like to thank my wife Rachel Hutton MacDonald for having read the initial drafts of this paper, and for having pointed out some valuable references. Any faults in this essay are my own. References Ashbrook, F. G. 1951. Raising Small Animals for Pleasure and Profit. D. Van Nostrand, Toronto. Bedaux, C.-W., L. Hacquebord, and X. van der Waals. 1978. Recherches archeologiques dans le Delta Interieur du Niger. Paleohistoria 20:91-220. Cole, H. M., and D. H. Ross. 1977. The Arts of Ghana. University of California Press, Berkeley. Connah, G. 1981. Three Thousand Years in Africa. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Crawford, R. D. 1984. Domestic Fowl. In Evolution of Domesticated Animals, ed. I. L. Mason, pp. 298-311. Longman, London. Cros, M. 1990. Anthropologie du sang en Afrique. L'Harmattan, Paris. Davidson, B. 1977. A History of West Africa 10001800, new ed. Longman, London. DeCorse, C. R. 1992. Culture Contact, Continuity, and Change on the Gold Coast, A.D. 1400-1900. African Archaeological Review 10:163-196. Eyo, E. 1976. Igbo'Laja, Owo, Nigeria. West African Journal of A rchaeology 6:37-5 8.

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24:131-146. Mclntosh, S. K. 1995. Jenne-jeno: The 1981 Excavations and Survey. University of California Press, Berkeley. Mclntosh, S. K., R. J. Mclntosh, and H. Bocoum. 1992. The Middle Senegal Valley Project: Preliminary Results from the 1990-91 Field Season. Nyame Akuma 38:47-61. McNaughton, P. R. 1988. The Mande Blacksmiths: Knowledge, Power and An in West Africa. Indiana University Press, Bloomington. Mongin, P., and M. Plouzeau. 1984. Guinea-fowl. In Evolution of Domesticated Animals, ed. I. L. Mason, pp. 322-325. Longman, London. Nadel, S. F. 1954. Nupe Religion. Routledge and Kegan Paul, London. Ojo, G. J. A. 1979. Yoruba Culture: A Geographical Analysis. University of London Press, London. Plass, M. W. 1967. African Miniatures: Goldweights of the Ashanti. Longman, London. Rattray, R. S. 1927. Religion and An in Ashanti. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Shaw, T. 1961. Excavation at Dawu: Report on an Excavation in a Mound at Dawu, Akuapim, Ghana. The University College of Ghana, Legon. 1962. Chronology of Excavation at Dawu, Ghana. Man 62:136-137. 1978. Nigeria: Its Archaeology and Early History. Thames and Hudson, London. Shinnie, P. L., and F. J. Kense. 1989. Archaeology of Gonja, Ghana: Excavations at Daboya. University of Calgary Press, Calgary. Stoller, P., and C. Olkes. 1987. In Sorcery's Shadow. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. Swithenbank, M. 1969. Ashanti Fetish Houses. Ghana Universities Press, Accra. Togola, T. 1993. Archaeological Investigations of Iron Age Sites in the Mema Region (Mali). Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Rice University, Houston, TX. Williamson, K. n.d. A Name for the Domestic Fowl in West Africa. Paper presented at the 1994 World Archaeological Congress, New Dehli.

Eyo, E., and F. Willett. 1980. Treasures of Ancient Nigeria. Alfred A. Knopf, New York. Fagg, W., and H. List. 1963. Nigerian Images. Lund Humphries, London. Pardon, R. 1990. Between God, the Dead and the Wild: Chamba Interpretations of Religion and Ritual. Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh. Garrard, T. F. 1980. Akan Weights and the Gold Trade. Longman, London. Gillon, W. 1984. A Short History of African Art. Viking, London. Holas, B. 1966. Arts de la Cote d'lvoire. Presses Universitaires de France, Paris. Insoll, T. in press. Results of Recent Excavations in Gao (September-October 1993). Nyame Akuma. Levtzion, N. 1985. The Early States of the Western Sudan. In History of West Africa, Vol. 1, 3rd ed., ed. J. F. Ade Ajayi and M. Crowder, pp. 129-166. Longman, London. Lewicki, T. 1974. West African Food in the Middle Ages. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Little, K. L. 1951. The Mende of Sierra Leone: A West African People in Transition. Routledge and Kegan Paul, London. Marees, P. de. 1602. Description and Historical Account of the GoldKindom of Guinea. Amsterdam, annotated English transl. by A. Jones and A. Van Dantzig (1987). Oxford University Press, Oxford. MacDonald, K. C. 1992. The Domestic Chicken (Callus gallus) in Sub-Saharan Africa: A Background to its Introduction and its Osteological Differentiation from Indigenous Fowls (Numidinae and Francolinus sp.). Journal of Archaeological Science 19:303-318. MacDonald, K. C., and D. N. Edwards. 1993. Chickens in Africa: The Importance of Qasr Ibrim. Antiquity 67:584-590. MacDonald, K. C., and R. H. MacDonald. n.d. Report on the Mammalian, Avian and Reptilian Remains from the 1990 Season at the Sites of Cubalel and Sioure (Senegal). Ms. on file, Department of Anthropology, Rice University. McCall, D. 1978. The Marvelous Chicken and its Companion in Yoruba Art and Myth. Paideuma

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BEDOUIN ANIMAL SACRIFICE PRACTICES: CASE STUDY IN ISRAEL

Joel D. Klenck Zooarchaeology Laboratory, Peabody Museum, 11 Divinity St., Harvard University, Cambridge, MA 02138

ABSTRACT Since the late 1800s, Western travelers have recorded Bedouin animal sacrifice rituals. For this study, I examine previous accounts of Bedouin sacrificial rituals and relate the details of Bedouin sacrifices to saints that I observed during the summer of 1991.1 record the locations and surroundings of the saints' tombs, the ritual slaughters, and the effect of these rituals on the carcasses of the sacrificial animals.

Musil (1928:402) recorded that the Rwala Bedouin in Saudi Arabia sacrificed camels to turn away a sorcerer's curse by appeasing him and his powerful ancestor. Falls (1913:317) mentioned that the Auladali, in the Sinai Desert, sacrificed a sheep outside the entrance of a newly-wed couple's tent and smeared the blood on the tent pegs for good luck. Bedouin also slaughter animals to remember deceased family members. Hobbs (1989:66) stated that Egyptian Bedouin families "slaughter a sheep or goat and leave some food and water on the grave" after their relative has been buried 40 days. However, Hobbs considers this slaughter a "commemoration" and not a sacrifice. "The gesture is symbolic; unlike the ancient Egyptians, the nomads do not bury the dead with earthly possessions or leave food in the belief that they will actually use them" (Hobbs 1989:65,66). The last type of sacrifice widely practiced by Bedouin, and the focus of this study, are those slaughters dedicated to saints. Bedouin saints are usually deceased sheikhs or the leaders of extended Bedouin families who were known for their martial skills, wise judgment, effective leadership, and spiritual powers. Bedouin saints may also be regarded as tribe progenitors or patrons (Marx 1977:47). In the spiritual realm, Bedouin saints act as mediators between God and man, and Bedouin sacrifice sheep, goat, camels, and cattle at their tombs to redeem vows, protect their families, safeguard health, make vows, incur healing, give thanks, and insure their wives' fertility (Marx 1977:41,44; Murray 1935:152, 154). Palmer's (1871) accounts of sacrifices to Bedouin saints in the Sinai include a summary of the rikub ceremony where a sheep or camel was led three times around a saint's tomb located near Jebel Musa.

Background Five types of Bedouin animal sacrifice rituals have been recorded by Western wanderers, historians, and anthropologists since the late 1800s. The most common slaughter ritual is the "Feast of the Sacrifice" or 'Idal 'Adha which occurs on the morning of the tenth day of the Hadj (Dhul Hijjah) and is practiced by all observing Muslims, including the Bedouin, throughout the world. In Saudi Arabia the traditional site for 'Id al 'Adha is in the plain of Muna, near Mecca. The sacrifice and feast commemorate the Koran's account of Ibrahim's willingness to sacrifice his son, Ismael, on Mount Arafat. Bedouin sacrifice sheep or camels on the plain in the midst of displays of alms and thanksgiving (Dickson 1949:242, 243). 'Id al 'Adha is described infrequently by Westerners in the literature on Saudi Arabia. The sacrifice occurs only once a year, and only Muslims are allowed to participate in the Hadj and enter Mecca. Sacrifices to ginn are another type of ritual slaughter associated with the Bedouin. Murray (1935:155) noted that Sinai Bedouin spilled salt or sacrificed an animal and sprinkled its blood on unfamiliar ground. Bedouin did this to satiate ginn, or spirits which appeared "sometimes as beasts, sometimes as hairy and bestial caricatures of human form" who, if not appeased, were known to cause physical and mental harm to tribesmen. In Saudi Arabia, Musil (1928:411) observed that each time a Rwala Bedouin killed an animal during a hunt, the blood and a portion of the meat were left to appease earthly spirits or ginn which could harm the hunter. Other poorly documented sacrificial rituals are those designed to ward off curses and bless married couples.

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that day at the particular tomb I was visiting. I eventually concentrated my study at Ibrahim's tomb since it was relatively close to the kibbutz and was one of the three most popular and spiritually powerful tombs in Israel (the other two being the tombs of Al Azzam and Nebi Musa, near Bir Aslouge and Jericho, respectively). By focusing my study on Ibrahim's tomb I was able to observe 15 saint sacrifices by Bedouin families coming from different locations in Israel. During the course of the study, I visited five sheikhs' tombs in eight weekends and observed 17 sacrifices: 15 at Ibrahim's tomb and two at Abu-Hurreira's grave. Four of the five weli (saint) tombs I visited (Abu-Hurreira, Falougie, Hussein, and Ibrahim) are located north of Beersheba, Israel (Fig. 1). Although many Bedouin consider the tomb of Al Azzam to be at least as holy and powerful as Ibrahim's tomb, its location near Bir Aslouge, 65 km from my research base at Kibbutz Lahav, prevented me from visiting the site more than once. The sheikhs' tombs vary in their size, care, and decoration. The tomb of Al Azzam is adjacent to the tomb of his cousin Al Nabari. Both tombs had sticks of wood (mostly palm) and white strips of cloth tied to each structure. The headstones of both tombs are oriented toward Mecca. According to Aref Abu-Rabiah, a Bedouin cultural anthropologist, the white cloth represents peace and goodwill and is a good omen for those petitioning Allah through a saint. At the foot of each tomb were areas where Bedouin lit candles. At Ibrahim's tomb the women performed this ritual inside the edifice. During these moments, the men were segregated from the women and performed animal sacrifices outside the tomb. Abu-Hurreira's tomb is located near Netivot. The tomb is a rectangular structure measuring 1.22 by 2.13 m, housed inside a dilapidated 6.23 by 6.30 m building, and oriented on a bent axis (Fig. 2). White sheets covered the edifice and the foot of the grave exhibited a niche for candles. Sheikh Falougie's tomb is located near Falougie junction and is represented by a crumbling 5.5 by 5.5 m structure, 3.5 m high, composed of stones and concrete. On the northwestern wall of the edifice, there was a charred, wax-covered ledge where Bedouin lit candles. Bedouin tied strips of white and green cloth and plywood shafts to the summit of the structure. Bedouin consider the color green to be very holy. The significance of the color green stems from old Arab traditions; according to the Bedouin, both the tomb of the Prophet Muhammad and the Kabbah are covered with green tapestries. Furthermore, my Bedouin guide, Selim, stated that the site marked both the grave and the house of Sheikh Falougie. There are remnants of two stone walls to the west of the tomb; however, one wall, comprising a row of uncut stones without mortar, 25 cm wide at its widest point, could have defined an animal pen.

Subsequently, Bedouin sacrificed, boiled, and ate the animal after sprinkling its blood on the lintel and posts of the tomb's entrance (Palmer 1871:119, 173). Furthermore, Palmer (1871:166) noted that Bedouin paid bakhshish (a bribe), in the form of a sacrificed white-faced sheep, to a Bedouin saint Abu-Shebib. In Saudi Arabia, Sba'a tribe members were recorded by Musil (1928:420) as petitioning a dead ancestor for continued blessing by saying "We think of thee, Slejman: Oh mayst thou have pity on us and our parents!" after which they would sacrifice a camel and sprinkle its blood on the tombstone. Although Geertz (1968:48) believes that the "cult of saints" is an official part of Islamic belief and "an expression of a world religion [coming] to terms with a multiplicity of local forms of faith," Grunebaum (1951:67) states that saint sacrifice represents a "striking deviation" from the Koran and its traditions. In Saudi Arabia, Muhammad ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab, a Muslim cleric who traveled widely throughout Saudi Arabia and Iraq, formed a movement in 1771 which denounced those Bedouin who followed superstitions and, instead of worshipping Allah alone, "prayed to stones and trees and believed in the special powers of living and dead saints" (Cole 1975:117). His protestations to return to the teaching of the Koran eventually influenced Muhammad ibn Sa'ud, the ruler of Dara'iya, located near modern Riyadh, who made a pact with al-Wahhab in 1774. When the Sa'ud family eventually created the new Kingdom of Saudi Arabia in 1932, they eradicated saint cults. Saints' tombs were destroyed and 'sinners' caught sacrificing animals to these saints were either flogged or executed (Polk and Mares 1973:65; Cole 1975:118, 122). In contrast, Bedouin saint sacrifices are widely practiced today in the Southern Levant and North Africa. Focus of study and description of tombs The principal objective of this study was to record the major features of Bedouin animal sacrifice rituals to saints. However, as an archaeozoologist, my other goal was to observe these sacrificial rituals and then analyze their impact on animal carcasses to provide archaeologists with an idea of what might be expected from sites of ritual slaughter. The study lasted from June 20 to September 15,1991. Every Friday morning I went to a saint's tomb in the Negev Desert, Israel, recorded the sacrificial activities when possible, collected the bones surrounding each tomb, and analyzed them at Kibbutz Lahav. My study was problematic for several reasons. First, some saints' tombs are more popular than others. Hence, although I visited five tombs, I saw sacrificial practices only at the tombs of Sheikh AbuHurreira and Ibrahim. This study was very much at the mercy of the Bedouin participants. I observed sacrificial activities only when Bedouin families decided to sacrifice

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Fig. 1: Map of southern Israel showing locations of the five sheikhs' tombs discussed in this study.

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The fourth site in my study is Sheikh Hussein's tomb, located near Beit Kamah. The tomb is 2.14 m long, 1.64 m wide, and 56 cm high, and was covered with two green and three white sheets (Fig. 3). The tomb is oriented roughly east-west and its headstone at the western end of the tomb was covered with sticks of wood and green and white cloth. At the foot of the headstone was a small hole where candles were burned. The remains of a three-roomed house, another single-room structure, and the sacrificial area lie to the west of the grave. According to my guide Selim, Sheikh Hussein died in 1933 and was the head of the Abu-Jabir clan to which Selim's family (Al-Tourie) was related. Sheikh Ibrahim's 'tomb' is a two-roomed, rectangular structure, oriented on a bent axis, measuring 10.7 m long and 5.15 m wide (Fig. 4). In the northernmost room, a blackened rectangular depression is set into the northeastern wall. On the ledge lay candles, salt, and a few coins. At the northeast of the tomb were metal poles and strings which the Bedouin used to hang caprovine carcasses during butchery activities. Associated with all tombs were water pitchers, metal objects such as pot lids (to protect budding fires from the wind), matches, salt, sugar, and candles. Several Bedouin stated that in centuries past, individuals left valuable possessions at sheikhs' tombs knowing that no Bedouin would dare steal from a saint's tomb for fear of being cursed. Also found near tombs were hearths with fire-cracked rocks on which rested cooking pots. And all tombs, except Ibrahim's, were associated with trees exhibiting many slash-marks where Bedouin hung and butchered sheep and goat.

Fig. 2: Tomb of Sheikh Abu-Hurreira covered with white sheets.

Sacrificial and butchery activities I was impressed by the uniformity of Bedouin sacrifice and butchery activities despite their varied geographical origins. At Ibrahim's and Abu-Hurreira's tombs, the sacrificial procedures began when the eldest man of the family led the sheep or goat around the tomb. During this time the women separated from the men. At Abu-Hurreira's tomb the women went to different picnic tables while at Ibrahim's site they went inside the tomb while the men remained outside. Bedouin prefer to sacrifice young male sheep (6-12 months) because they consider their meat to be the tenderest. Six-month to one-year-old male goats are regarded as next bests. Bedouin consider the sacrificial ages of sheep and goat to be from six months to 2.5 years. Bedouin state that the meat of older animals is tough and unsavory. Bedouin also slaughter cattle and camel at tombs but these occurrences are rare. Table 1 lists the sacrifices I observed, the origins of the families who performed the sacrifices, and the age and sex of the caprovine that was slaughtered. Occasionally, the animal was given a drink of water before it was slaughtered. Sacrificial activities then proceeded in the following manner:

Fig. 3: Tomb of Sheikh Hussein topped with plywood sticks and white and green cloth.

Fig. 4: Tomb of Sheikh Ibrahim showing (to right) the metal poles Bedouin used to hang sheep and goat carcasses during butchery activities.

60

1. The animal's head was turned to the east (toward Mecca) and its neck was cut (Fig. 5). 2. Bedouin cut skin off the back of the animal's leg. 3. The skin around the legs and rump of the animal was pushed away from the carcass by hand. 4. Bedouin removed the animal's rear foot bones (phalanges, metatarsals, first, second, third, and centroquartal tarsals) by cutting across the distal end of the astragalus. 5. The animal was hung upside down by putting a string or hook between the distal end of the tibia and the gastrocnemius tendon, which is connected to the proximal calcaneum. The animal's skin was then pulled down and off its body like a sock. 6. The front foot bones (phalanges, metacarpals, second, third, and fourth carpals) were cut from the body and left inside the skin (Fig. 6). 7. The stomach was then removed by slicing lengthwise down the front of the animal. Although most of the intestines were left on the ground, the caprovine's heart, liver, lungs, trachea, kidneys, and scrotum were

Table 1. Observed sacrifices at saints' tombs in 1991, detailing the date, tomb, and origins of the families who performed the ritual slaughter, and the ages and sexes of the sacrificed caprovines. Date

Tomb

June 21 Ibrahim Aug. 1 Ibrahim Ibrahim Ibrahim

Origin

Rahat Rahat Achsiv Lod/ Gaza Aug. 8 Ibrahim Achsiv Ibrahim Lod Aug. 16 Ibrahim Dimona Ibrahim Dimona Ibrahim Dimona Ibrahim Achsiv Ibrahim Achsiv Ibrahim Lod Ibrahim Arad Ibrahim Rahat Ibrahim Rahat Aug. 24 Hurreira Local Hurreira Local

Species Sex sheep goat sheep sheep

Age

male 6 months female 8 months male 8 months 1 year male

goat female sheep male goat female goat female goat female goat male sheep male sheep male goat female sheep male goat male sheep male sheep male

2 years 7 months 1 1/2 years 1 1/2 years 1 1/2 years 1 year 1 year 8 months 1 year 8 months 1 year 8 months 1 1/2 years

Fig. 5 Sheep and goat with slit throats facing toward Mecca.

61

19

usually saved, roasted, and eaten. The sternum was cut through at this time (Fig. 7). 8. Using amachete-like object, the Bedouin sliced through the sacrum, pelvis, and vertebrae, dividing the carcass in half (Fig. 8). 9. The halved cervical vertebrae were removed. 10. Bedouin removed and threw away fat and gristle around the end of the ribs. 11. The sternal half of each rack of ribs was removed by cutting lengthwise through each rack (Fig. 9). 12. Next, Bedouin removed the forelimbs from the carcass by slicing through the muscles connecting the scapula to the trunk of the carcass. The radius and ulna were separated from the humerus by cutting the muscles and tendons on the lateral and medial sides of the distal humerus and the triceps brachii tendons attached to the olecranon of the ulna. The scapula and humerus were disconnected by cutting through the cancellous bone at the proximal end of the humerus. Bedouin then divided the scapula into two parts, slicing usually through the ventral side of this bone. 13. Bedouin separated ribs and thoracic vertebrae into portions of two or three. 14. Lumbar vertebrae were divided into two or three segments. 15. At this point, Bedouin usually took down the hanging caprovine hindlimb. Bedouin separated the femur from the acetabulum of the pelvis by cutting through the proximal end of the femur shaft (Fig. 10). The distal

:Fig.6: Forefoot is cut from the carcass and left inside the skin.

:Fig.7:

Sternum is cleaved in half after Bedouin eviscerate the animal. Vital organs are shown in a pan to the right of the carcass while the intestinal sac is on the ground beneath the hanging caprovine.

Fig. 8: Vertebral column is split using a machete-like tool.

fig.9:

Sternal portion of a right rib cage is separated from the carcass with a cleaver.

63

Fig. 10: Pelvis is separated from hindlimb by cutting through the proximal shaft of the femur.

sites in my study (see below). Bedouin also gave meat to the individuals who helped clean around Abu-Hurreira's and Ibrahim's tombs. After Bedouin concluded their sacrifices, pelts, blood, and intestines littered the slaughter area. Different tombs displayed different waste removal practices. Al Azzam's and Abu-Hurreira's tombs are both located in parks under the jurisdiction of the Karem Kayemeth or the Jewish Foundation Fund. At AbuHurreira' s tomb most of the meat bones were burned to ash in stone-lined hearths by a local Bedouin, who said he worked for the Fund. The remains associated with the skins, such as the cranium and foot bones, were much harder to burn, so they were deposited in a 10 by 5 m pit located 150 m away from the sacrificial area. At Al Azzam' s tomb some trash was dumped in a large trash bin; however, the bin was 100 m away from the tombs so Bedouin threw most of the bone remains into a gully adjacent to the slaughter area. At the tombs of Hussein, Falougie, and Ibrahim, animal remains were merely dumped around the slaughter areas after the families ate their meals. A combination of hot sun, mostly defleshed bones, and weekly breaks between sacrifices extirpated the smells that are usually associated with rotting carcasses. At Ibrahim's tomb a local Bedouin woman came every Friday morning before the sacrifices to sweep animal remains away from the tomb. An area of four square meters in front of the two entrances to Ibrahim's 'building' was swept clean. Four to eight meters in front of the tomb, small bones fragments were found. Most of the bones were found

end of the femur and tibia were then thrown, still connected, into a large pot where all the other meat bones were placed. 16. The pot was then filled with water, placed over a hearth, usually supported by three fire-cracked rocks, and left to cook for 60 to 90 minutes. Variations in this sequence occurred when the butchery of the forelimbs (Step 12) preceded the splitting of the cervical vertebrae (Step 9). Occasionally, Bedouin removed the sternal portion of the rib cages (Step 11) before they cut through the vertebrae and divided the carcass in half (Step 8). These variations had no differential impact on the skeletal remains. Feasts and waste removal practices When the meat finished boiling, the water was poured out and the meat was put on pita bread in flat pans. Children took some of the meat and pita to the women, men stayed near the sacrificial area, and a feast ensued. Although the patriarch of each family would slit the animal's throat, his sons or other male relatives would butcher the animal. Often an ashar, the Bedouin equivalent of a butcher, would help dismember the animal. As a fee he was given a portion of the meat and sometimes collected discarded animal parts. For example, the ashar at Ibrahim's tomb always collected and took home caprovine heads and some skins after each Friday morning's slaughter. The ashar's actions had an impact on the bone remains around Ibrahim's tomb, for the fauna exhibited the lowest proportions of cranial and foot bones compared to the other

64

bones were usually discarded intact adjacent to the tombs while meat bones, especially those of the fore- and hindlimbs, went through the entire butchery process. In addition, meat bones were occasionally taken home by the family performing the sacrifice. To calculate mortality profiles of sheep and goat, I used Silver's (1969) method of calculating bone fusion ratios and Pay ne' s (1973) method of determining caprovine mandibular tooth eruption and wear rates. Silver's (1969) method of calculating bone fusion ratios is based on the assumption that epiphyseal ends fuse to the shafts of long bones during certain age ranges in a juvenile capro vine's life. Silver (1969) groups different epiphyseal ends with similar fusion periods into age groups (Silver 1969). From these categories, archaeozoologists calculate the ratio of fused to unfused epiphyseal ends to indicate the number of animals which survived 10, 16, 28, and 42 months. Table 6 and Fig. 11 show that the highest proportions of fused bones occur in the age stages before 10 months. From all assemblages the epiphyseal ends fusing between 30 and 42 months were no more than 26% fused. The calculation of bone fusion ratios for Sheikh Ibrahim's tomb was problematic. A 26 kg, two-year-old German shepherd named Kim from Kibbutz Lahav completely consumed 12 caprovine feet. Although luckily I recorded the number of feet and hence could calculate the number of carpals, tarsals, metapodials, and phalanges, I could not determine bone fusion ratios since the dog literally 'ate my homework'. To complement bone fusion data, I recorded caprovine tooth eruption and wear rates using Payne's (1973) methodology. Payne (1973) assumed that during a caprovine's life the mandibular teeth wore down at a rate that could be recorded. By comparing attrition rates of caprovine teeth from herds in As van Kale, Turkey, to Silver's (1969) tooth eruption data, Payne provided a criterion for rough age estimates. Caprovine mandibular teeth from all four sites exhibited a degree of uniformity. Milk teeth comprised at least 33% of all caprovine teeth surrounding the sheikhs' tombs. In addition, tooth eruption and wear rates indicate that a majority of the caprovines at each site were killed between six and twelve months of age (Fig. 12). To reiterate, discrepancies exist between the bone fusion and tooth eruption and wear data. Bone fusion data show a greater degree of survivorship in caprovines between six months and two years of age than do tooth eruption and wear data. The latter indicate a stricter mortality profile for caprovine tooth remains at all tombs and indicate that these teeth originated from animals less than a year old. This discrepancy at Ibrahim's tomb may be partially explained in that the ashar took the caprovine craniums home with him at the end of each sacrifice. Hence, I was only able to record bone fusion data from the

in an arc that radiated 8 to 29 m out in front of the structure. Zoological study At the conclusion of each sacrifice, I collected and analyzed the animal bones that surrounded each tomb. I retrieved most of the fauna within a 50 m radius surrounding each tomb. At Abu-Hurreira's tomb, however, the Bedouin attendant burned many of the caprovine carcasses in a pit located 150 m from the slaughter area. I examined each faunal fragment to determine the skeletal part, species, and side to which the bone or tooth fragment belonged. I also recorded bone fusion ratios and mandibular tooth eruption and wear rates to determine mortality information or the ages at which animals are killed. Lastly, I recorded the extent to which each bone fragment was butchered, burned, and/or gnawed. I differentiated between sheep and goat bones using criteria recorded by Boessneck et al. (1964) and Prummel and Frisch (1986). I combined those bones that could not be attributed to either sheep or goat into an inclusive caprovine category. Since all the medium-sized animal bones that I could identify belonged to either sheep or goat, the bones that I found difficult to speciate (ribs, vertebrae, fragments of long bones) I attributed to caprovine (Tables 2-5). My division of bone elements into cranium, vertebrae, forelimb, hindlimb, and foot categories is based on Bedouin butchery activities. For example, Bedouin separated caprovine hindlimbs and feet at the joint between the astragalus and the centroquartal tarsal. Thus, I have designated the astragalus as a hindlimb element and the centroquartal tarsal as a foot bone. The site with the greatest number of non-caprovine bones, the assemblage surrounding Sheikh Falougie' s tomb, contained 28 cattle bones (6.7% of the faunal assemblage). At the other three sites, non-caprovine bones comprised less than 1% of the bone remains. All four sites exhibited higher proportions of sheep than goat remains. The animal bone assemblage at AbuHurreira' s tomb, which had the most similar sheep-to-goat ratios, still displayed 26% more sheep than goat bone and tooth fragments. The assemblages at each of the tombs exhibited a complete range of skeletal parts. In Tables 2-5,1 calculate amounts for each caprovine limb and foot bone and then divide by the expected number of bones in an individual caprovine. For each of the assemblages, I tried to match up proximal and distal ends of the limb bones and in most cases, I was either successful in joining the two together or the element was complete to begin with. The results show that at the tombs of Abu-Hurreira, Falougie, and Hussein there were proportionally more foot bones than other limb bones.There are several reasons for the high proportions of foot bones at each tomb. During the sacrifices, all foot

65

Table 2. Animal bone and tooth fragments surrounding Sheikh Abu-Hurreira's tomb (N = 623). This table shows the number of caprovine bones, the expected number of skeletal elements for an individual caprovine carcass, and the number of extant caprovine bones divided by the number of expected skeletal elements. Faunal elements such as the cranial bones, scapulae, ribs, pieces of vertebrae, and loose teeth were either too fragmentary or problematic to use 'expected' amounts in these calculations. Sheep

Goat

Caprovine

Horn core Cranial frag. Maxilla Mandible Maxillary tooth Mandibular tooth TOTAL

1 2 1 -

1 2 1 -

_

4

4

40 2 4 46

Atlas Axis Other cervical vert. Thoracic vert. Lumbar vert. Sacrum Vert. frag. Rib frag. TOTAL

. 0

_ 0

Body part

Element

Cranium (n=54)

Vertebrae (n=83)

Forelimb (n=67)

Hindlimb (n=49)

Foot (n=346)

Total

Expected

1 1 3 2 9 67

1 1 5 13 9 1 nc nc 30

1 1 0 0.2 0.2 0 nc nc 0.23

_ . . 0

nc 2 2 2 2 2 2 12

nc 1.5 11.5 1.0 1.0 1.0 1.0 2.83

.

2 2 2 2 2

6.0 3.5 0.0 7.0 3.0 3.5 1.0 3.43

83(7)

32 1 11 2 2 2 50

33 3 23 2 2 2 2

Pelvis Femur Patella Tibia Calcaneum Astragalus Lateral malleous TOTAL

1 1 2 6 5 15

1 1 1 3

10 6 11 1 2 30

12 7 14 6 7 2 48

2 2 14

2nd & 3rd carpal Fourth carpal Metacarpus First tarsal 2nd & 3rd tarsal Centroquartal tarsal Metatarsus First phalanx Second phalanx Third phalanx Sesamoidt TOTAL

. 10 48 20 16

_ 12 20 14 11

3 5 49 3 7 20 64 25 14 5

3 5 71 3 7 20 64 93 48 32

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 8 8 8

94

57

195

346

38

9 15 24

9 15 24

nc nc -

nc = not calculated t Sesamoids from the fauna at Sheikh Abu-Hurreira's tomb not recorded 66

nc nc 1.67

. . 0

1 1 3 2 9 67 83

1 1 4 6

. 0

1

2 nc 2 2 nc nc 6

_ 1 8 2 11

0

Cattle

2 44 2 6 54(10)

Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Ulnar carpal Intermediate carpal Radial carpal TOTAL

Unidentified Shaft frag. (n=24) Indeterminable TOTAL

T/E

67 (34)

nc 1 3

1.5 2.5 35.5 1.5 3.5 10.0 32.0 11.6 6.0 4.0

9.10

nc nc -

.

0

1 -

-

-

1 .

-

-

. .

-

-

0 .

0

Table 3. Animal bone and tooth fragments surrounding Sheikh Falougie's tomb (N = 450). This table shows the number of caprovine bones, the expected number of skeletal elements for an individual caprovine carcass, and the number of extant caprovine bones divided by the number of expected skeletal elements. Faunal elements such as the cranial bones, scapulae, ribs, pieces of vertebrae, and loose teeth were either too fragmentary or problematic to use 'expected' amounts in these calculations. Body part

Element

Cranium (n=24)

Horn core Cranial frag. Maxilla Mandible Maxillary tooth Mandibular tooth TOTAL

Sheep

. 11 -

Goat

Caprovine

.

. 1

T/E

Cattle

2 nc 2 2 nc nc 6

0 nc 0.5 4.5 nc nc 1.67

. -

2 3 2 1 4 2 36

1 1 5 13 9 1 nc nc 30

2 3 0.4 0.07 0.4 2 nc nc 0.47

Total 0 14 1 9 -

Expected

5 16

3 2 5

2 3

Atlas Axis Other cervical vert. Thoracic vert. Lumbar vert. Sacrum Vert. frag. Rib frag. TOTAL

2 • 2

. 0

3 2 1 4 2 • 36 48

Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Ulnar carpal Intermediate carpal Radial carpal TOTAL

. 3 2 2 7

. 1 1

16 5 . 2 2 2 27

16 4 7 2 2 2 2

35 (19)

nc 2 2 2 2 2 2 12

nc 2.0 3.5 1.0 1.0 1.0 1.0 1.58

1 . 1

Hindlimb (n=31)

Pelvis Femur Patella Tibia Calcaneus Astragalus Lateral malleous TOTAL

3 2 1 2 1 9

. 2 2 . 1 5

5 4 4 2 15

8 8 0 7 2 2 2 29

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 14

4.0 4.0 0.0 3.5 1.0 1.0 1.0 2.07

2 2

Foot (n=278)

2nd & 3rd carpal Fourth carpal Metacarpus First tarsal 2nd & 3rd tarsal Centroquartal tarsal Metatarsus First phalanx Second phalanx Third phalanx Sesamoid TOTAL

. 4

. 7 . 12 6 4 29

6 6 7 7 7 64 7 14 58 176

6 6 11 7 7 7 64 39 36 36 58 277

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 8 8 8 24 62

3.0 3.0 5.5 3.5 3.5 3.5 32.0 4.9 4.6 4.6 2.4 4.46

. . 1 • 1

. 0

8 1 9

8 1 9

nc nc -

nc nc -

. 1 1

Vertebrae (n=73)

Forelimb (n=36)

Unidentified Shaft frag. (n=9) Indeterminable TOTAL

PrehistorcCultreSt s.Etudes/InuitS dies

27 23 18 72 -

• 0

.

nc = not calculated 67

24(10)

50(14)

0 . 4 4 15 23

Table 4. Animal bone and tooth fragments surrounding Sheikh Hussein's tomb (N = 270). This table shows the number of caprovine bones, the expected number of skeletal elements for an individual caprovine carcass, and the number of extant caprovine bones divided by the number of expected skeletal elements. Faunal elements such as the cranial bones, scapulae, ribs, pieces of vertebrae, and loose teeth were either too fragmentary or problematic to use 'expected' amounts in these calculations. Sheep

Goat

. 2 2

2 1 1 4

Atlas Axis Other cervical vert. Thoracic vert. Lumbar vert. Sacrum Vert. frag. Rib frag. TOTAL

1 1 2

Forelimb (n=13)

Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Ulnar carpal Intermediate carpal Radial carpal TOTAL

. 2 4 6

Hindlimb (n=3)

Pelvis Femur Patella Tibia Calcaneum Astragalus Lateral malleous TOTAL

1 1

Body part

Element

Cranium (n=10)

Horn core Cranial frag. Maxilla Mandible Maxillary tooth Mandibular tooth TOTAL

Vertebrae (n=39)

Foot (n=205)

2nd & 3rd carpal Fourth carpal Metacarpus First tarsal 2nd & 3rd tarsal Centroquartal tarsal Metatarsus First phalanx Second phalanx Third phalanx Sesamoid TOTAL

Unidentified Shaft frag. Indeterminable (n=0) TOTAL

_ 13 21 20 21 14 89 . 0

Caprovine

Total

. 2 2 4

2 5 0 1 2 0 10(3)

2 nc 2 2 nc nc 6

nc 0 0.5 nc nc 0.5

. 0

_ 1 2 34 37

1 1 0 1 2 0 0 34 39(5)

1 1 5 13 9 1 nc nc 30

1 1 0 0.07 0.22 0 nc nc 0.17

. 0

1 4 2 . 7

1 6 2 4 0 0 0 13(12)

nc 2 2 2 2 2 2 12

nc 3.0 1.0 2.0 0 0 0 1.0

_

.

-

2 . 2

-

-

-

0 -

-

-

. -

-

10 17 7 6 40 . 0

nc = not calculated

68

Expected

T/E

1

1 2 0 0 0 0 0 3

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 14

0.5 1.0 0 0 0 0 0 0.21

7 7 7 7 7 9 32 76

7 7 13 7 7 7 9 31 37 28 52 205

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 8 8 8 24 62

3.5 3.5 6.5 3.5 3.5 3.5 4.5 3.9 4.6 3.5 2.2 3.31

_ 0

_ 0

nc nc -

nc nc -

Table 5. Animal bone and tooth fragments surrounding Sheikh Ibrahim's tomb (N=1759). This table shows the number of caprovine bones, the expected number of skeletal elements for an individual caprovine carcass, and the number of extant caprovine bones divided by the number of expected skeletal elements. Faunal elements such as the cranial bones, scapulae, ribs, pieces of vertebrae, and loose teeth were either too fragmentary or problematic to use 'expected' amounts in these calculations. Sheep

Body part

Element

Cranium (n=32)

Horn core Cranial frag. Maxilla Mandible Maxillary tooth Mandibular tooth TOTAL

4 6 -

Atlas Axis Other Cervical vert. Thoracic vert. Lumbar vert. Sacrum Vert. frag. Rib frag. TOTAL

Vertebrae (n=370)

Forelimb (n=275)

Hindlimb (n=164)

Foot (n=789)

Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Ulnar carpal Intermediate carpal Radial carpal TOTAL Pelvis Femur Patella Tibia Calcaneum Astragalus Lateral malleous TOTAL 2nd & 3rd carpal Fourth carpal Metacarpus First tarsal 2nd & 3rd tarsal Centroquartal tarsal Metatarsus First phalanx Second phalanx Third phalanx Sesamoid TOTAL

Unidentified Shaft frag. Indeterminable (n=129) TOTAL

Goat

Caprovine

. 3 2 9 -

Total

8

8 . 10

14

. 0

. 0

1 8 27 19 9 306 370

1 0 8 27 19 0 9 306

119 66 67 14 3 3 3

12 3 2 15 0 0

32 (29)

370 (55)

Expected

T/E

2 nc 2 2 nc nc 6

6 nc 1 7.5 nc nc 4.8

1 1 5 13 9 1 nc nc 30

1 0 1.6

2.08 2.11 0 nc nc

1.83

6 23 4 1 34

7 21 5 2 35

106 22 58 11 3 3 3 206

275(156)

nc 2 2 2 2 2 2 12

1 4 1 2 • 8

3 1 1 5 2 12

50 25 68 1 144

54 26 0 73 7 4 0 164

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 14

27.0 13.0

9 9 8 7 7 7 7 30 30 30 120 264

3 3 4 2 2 2 2 12 12 12 48 102

12 12 13 12 12 12 14 48 48 48 192 423

24 24 25 21 21 21 23 90 90 90 360 789

2 2 2 2 2 2 2 8 8 8 24 62

12.0 12.0 12.5 10.5 10.5 10.5 11.5 11.25 11.25 11.25 15.0 12.73

129 129

129 129

nc nc -

nc nc -

. 0

. 0

nc = not calculated

69

nc

33.0 33.5 7.0 1.5 1.5 1.5

13.0

0

36.5 3.5 2.0 0

11.71

Table 6. Caprovine bone fusion data (from Silver 1969). Fused and unfused epiphyseal ends from surface scatters around the tombs of Sheikh Abu-Hurreira, Falougie, Hussein, and Ibrahim. Falougie (n=141)

Abu-Hurreira (n=223) Fused

Unfused

Age (Mo.)

Element

8 10 10 10

Scapula Pelvis Humerus (dst) Radius (prx) TOTAL

16 16

Phalanx 1 (prx) Phalanx 2 (prx) TOTAL

9 55 32 13 22 (20%) 87

24 24 28

Tibia (dst) Metacarpus (dst) Metatarsus (dst) TOTAL

1 3 8 41 7 24 16(19%) 68

30 36 36 36 42 42 42

Ulna Calcaneus Femur (prx) Radius (dst) Femur (dst) Humerus (prx) Tibia (prx) TOTAL

0 0 4 3 7 (64%)

1 3 0 0 4

Fused

Unfused

3 3 2 7 15(71%)

3 3 0 0 6

12 26 14 22 26 (35%) 48

2 0 2 2 1 1 1 4 1 0 4 0 1 0 5 (26%) 14

Ibrahim (n=191)

Hussein (n=93) Fused

Unfused

1 0 1 0 2 (67%)

0 0 1 0 1

22 10 12 22 22 (34%) 44

Fused

Unfused

11 16 10 13 5 30 1 23 82 (75%) 27 0 0 0 (0%)

0 0 0

1 11 13 25

0 1 0 1 (5%)

0 11 7 18

22 5 1 0 0 0 5(18%) 23

2 0 2 0 2 3 3 0 2 0 1 1 3 0 4(21%) 15

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 (0%)

1 0 2 0 0 2 0 5

6 0 1 6 4 4 4 7 0 5 1 8 0 8 10(18%) 44

2 0 0 2 (7%)

Fig. 11: Caprovine bone fusion proportions (from Silver 1969). Fused and unfused epiphyseal ends from around tombs of Abu-Hurreira (N=223), Falougie (N=141), Hussein (N=93), and Ibrahim (N=191).

Fig. 12: Caprovine tooth eruption and wear rates (from Payne 1973) calculated from mandibular teeth scattered around the sheikhs' tombs.

70

varied proportions of gnawed bones around the tombs of Falougie, Hussein, and Ibrahim. The caprovine remains at Hussein's tomb were very fresh (i.e., meat was rotting on the bones and the blood had not completely decomposed), indicating that the sacrifices were performed no more that one week before my arrival at the site. It is possible that I collected the Hussein assemblage before carnivores (especially dogs) accessed the material. All four tombs are equidistant (