2014 Future directions in hunter-gatherer research: hunter-gatherer religion and ritual. In Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology and Anthropology of Hunter-Gatherers. V. Cummings, P.

[DS Whitley 2014 Future directions in hunter-gatherer research: hunter-gatherer religion and ritual. In Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology and Anthropology of Hunter-Gatherers. V. Cummings, P. Jordan and M. Zvelebil, eds., pp. 1221-1242. Oxford University Press, Oxford.]

HUNTER-GATHERER RELIGION AND RITUAL

David S. Whitley

Hunter-gatherer religions and rituals have fascinated the western world almost

since the first contacts between European and small-scale non-farming societies and

cultures. In part this interest has been fueled by the perceived exoticism of the foragers'

beliefs and practices; partly by administrative/religious concerns; and also for more

purely intellectual reasons. Early encounters with and descriptions of Siberian shamans,

for example, were widely broadcast in eighteenth-century Western Europe, where they

influenced artists such as Mozart and Goethe (Flaherty 1992). Spanish missionaries in the

Americas, starting with the Columbus expeditions, recorded detailed information on

indigenous beliefs and practices, recognizing this knowledge as valuable in promoting

conversions to Catholicism (e.g., Pané [1494-6] 2006; Geiger and Meighan [1812-5]

1976; Boscana [1822] 1978)—in the process inventing systematic ethnological research

and ethnographic reporting. Academic concerns reflect numerous disciplines, including

anthropology (e.g., Kroeber 1907), sociology (e.g., Durkheim [1912] 2001), the history

of religion/religious studies (e.g., Eliade 1972), folklore and mythology (e.g., Gayton and

Newman 1940), ethnobotany and pharmacology (e.g., Schultes 1977), psychiatry

(Silverman 1967), and archaeology (e.g., Price 2001; Ross and Davidson 2006). Hunter-

gatherer religions—at least as re-interpreted in contemporary western terms—also figure

prominently in the New Age/self-realization and alternative medicine and psychiatric

movements (e.g., Senn 1989). The result is a very broad body of literature, ensuring that

this topic will be researched and debated long into the future.

In order to develop a representative picture of hunter-gatherer religions and

rituals, I use the nature and range of variation in Native Californian ethnographic

examples as the foundation for this chapter. This is an appropriate source, partly because

the ethnographic record is so rich (e.g., see syntheses in Kroeber 1925, and Heizer 1978),

and in part because Native California1 itself was so diverse. Occupied by hunter-gatherers

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until Euro-American contact in the late-eighteenth through mid-nineteenth centuries,

Native California included approximately 80 mutually unintelligible languages, divided

into an uncharted number of dialects (cf. Shipley 1978). Political organization ranged

from bands with headmen, common among the very mobile groups in the eastern deserts,

to simple chiefdoms, living in permanent villages with as many as 1000 residents, along

the coast (Whitley 2000). Subsistence likewise varied, with dietary staples including the

acorn, pine nut, camas bulb, riverine salmon, and/or maritime resources generally,

depending upon tribe2 and environmental setting. Perhaps most importantly, Native

California incorporates portions of a series of ethnographic "culture areas" (Kroeber

1939): the Californian itself; the western Great Basin; the southwestern Columbia

Plateau; and a southwestern extension of the Northwest Coast. Native California in this

sense was a microcosm of the North American hunter-gatherer far west and, as we shall

see, serves as a reasonable model for hunter-gatherers globally.

About Hunter-Gatherer Religions

It is useful to begin with a brief discussion of religion, partly because it is a

familiar aspect of contemporary western society. For this fact, many social scientists

(including many atheists and agnostics) maintain a series of implicit ideas about religion

that reflect a western Judeo-Christian bias that may be incorrect when traditional hunter-

gatherer religions are considered. Religion, first, can be defined as a culturally-shared set

of beliefs and practices which involve supernatural agents—spirits or gods of some kind

(Whitehouse 2004). All religions have a cosmology, which is a theory of the origin,

structure and nature of the universe (including the place of humans in it), but hunter-

gatherers do not necessarily have a theology: a formally defined religious philosophy and

theory. Despite this last circumstance, hunter-gatherer religions include a code of moral

and ethical percepts and behaviors. Because these may be implicit, members of many

hunter-gatherer societies may not recognize that they have a religion per se, as a distinct

social institution, even though their religious beliefs and rituals are evident to an outsider

(Whitley 2008). Hunter-gatherer religions, in this sense, are commonly defined by

practice driven by tradition, and they are entirely inter-woven with (if not inseparable

from) all other aspects of social life. Hence, hunter-gatherer rituals or ceremonies—

customarily or formally repeated acts or sequences of actions (Hayden 2003)—are

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invariably religious, or at least always invested with religious undertones. Some hunter-

gatherer rituals constituted public ceremonies, often undertaken periodically, whereas

others involved entirely private observances. Although ritual officials of some kind

commonly conducted the first kind of rites, private observances often required no

participation on the part of a religious specialist.

Five points require emphasis with respect to distinctions between hunter-gatherer

versus western Judeo-Christian religious traditions. First, hunter-gatherer religions

include animistic beliefs: they typically hold that the world is ensouled, or numinous.

Supernatural agents may then appear as natural phenomena (such as specific rocks or

lightning), as well as animal spirits or ghosts/ancestors. But all of these are personified in

the sense that they always think and act like humans, regardless of name and outward

form (Barrett 2004; Elkin 1964,155; Forde 1931,182). Further, because animals

especially are perceived to be like humans spiritually—in Native America animals are

widely conceptualized as "non-human people"—special social and religious relationships

are believed to exist between individuals and groups of humans, and certain animal

species and animal spirits. These range from an individual's animal spirit helper or

tutelary to a clan's or moiety's mythic ancestor or animal totem.

Second, stemming from the numinous nature of the world, hunter-gatherer

religions commonly recognize sacred places on the landscape but, despite this fact, they

often lack the rigid distinction between sacred versus profane space that Durkheim (2001)

incorrectly characterized as a universal trait of all religions. Although certain locations

are known to be sacred, based on tradition and previous experience, the ensouled nature

of the world means that any location potentially can become so charged, due to

subsequent events.

Rituals then can be associated with specific sacred places, especially locations of

mythic events, but this is not a necessary requirement for all hunter-gatherer religious

ceremonies, with many occurring in otherwise mundane settings (such as the middle a

village). Sacred versus profane in these circumstances is a function of time rather than

place (Whitley 2000), and this has a particularly important archaeological implication.

Locational association in the archaeological record, normally interpreted as an indicator

of functional association or equivalence (e.g., Gilreath and Hildebrandt 2008), may be

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meaningless with respect to ritual remains. Burials interred in house-pit floors—and thus

within kitchen middens—are the most obvious example of this fact. Despite their

presence in an otherwise profane context, burials in middens (common in many regions,

like California and the Great Basin) reflect temporally-alternating uses of space, and not

cannibalism due to their locational association with other dietary remains—as standard

archaeological inference might otherwise imply.

Third, the relationship between myth and ritual varies, in some cases dramatically

even between adjacent hunter-gatherer tribes. Myth itself may be defined as a corpus of

accounts of supernatural agents and events occurring during a primordial, pre-human

time. These beings are often the progenitors of the important species constituting the

natural world, hence myths widely (but not invariably) involve a time "when animals

were people." (Folk tales, in contrast, may involve supernatural agents and events, but

they invariably include "real" even if historical or apochryphal humans.) Among some

hunter-gatherer groups, religious ritual is closely linked to mythology—as in Judeo-

Christianity—with ceremonies often representing ritual re-enactments of mythic events,

conducted at specific mythic locations. The Australian Aboriginal and Native Californian

Yuman-speaking tribal religions are examples of this emphasis. But among other hunter-

gatherers, including other Native Californian tribes, there is little if any connection

between myth and ritual (Whitley 2000, 2008), and their ceremonies have no direct

linkage with mythic events, locations or actors.

Fourth, and somewhat paradoxically, hunter-gatherer religions are at once very

conservative (Elkin 1964; Steward 1955; White 1963) and much more resistant to change

than technology or subsistence (cf. Sahlins 1985). But they are also open (as opposed to

closed) knowledge systems in the sense that they can be augmented or influenced by

outside beliefs and events (cf. Horton 1982). Hunter-gatherer religions are syncretic

rather than exclusionary, which has important implications for understanding changes to

them. Instead of catastrophic change—the complete replacement of one religious system

by another—hunter-gatherers typically maintain a core of beliefs and practices, with

change consisting of the addition or subtraction of other elements over time (cf. Bloch

1986, 1992). Perhaps best illustrating this tendency is the fact that many contemporary

descendants of hunter-gatherers practice their traditional religions along with aspects of a

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recently adopted Christianity (e.g., Bean and Vane 1978, 670; Elkin 1964; White 1963),

and find no contradiction in this circumstance.

Fifth, indigenous knowledge concerning hunter-gatherer religions, like that in

many traditional systems, was often carefully controlled. Knowledge was earned, through

age advancement, initiation and/or demonstrations of skill. Because it was secret or

restricted, even within the confines of a given tribal group, certain specific beliefs and

practices are referred to as cults: sub-sets of more general religious systems, such as

secret or semi-secret societies. For the anthropologist and archaeologists, the secret

nature of certain kinds of religious knowledge can make research difficult (Whitley

2007). In such cases a lack of ethnographic information does not always demonstrate the

absence of a practice or belief, hence putative negative evidence about a given religion

must be evaluated carefully rather than necessarily taken literally.

Hunter-Gatherer Religious Configurations

Most ethnographic hunter-gatherer religions can be conceptualized as falling on a

continuum between two poles: shamanistic and world renewal systems. Importantly,

elements of both systems are present in the religions of many, if not all, hunter-gatherers,

and the differences between any two specific cases often reflect distinctions of degree

more than kind. Rituals practiced in both systems likewise ranged from entirely (or

largely) private and esoteric ceremonies to openly public ("exoteric") displays, with

participants including ritual specialists and the uninitiated general public. Widely

practiced examples of the first include vision quests or cult initiations and, for the latter,

mourning rites. Personal religious observances (often referred to as "taboos") were also

common. In Native California, these included practices such as menstrual seclusion for

women, prohibitions against naming the dead, and various kinds of fasting and

abstentions associated with specific activities and events (such as hunting or childbirth).

Shamanistic Systems

Shamanistic religious systems are very widely associated with hunter-gatherers.

Partly for this reason, many researchers have assumed that shamanism represents a kind

of relict Paleolithic religion (e.g., Furst 1977)—a point discussed below. Regardless of

time-depth, shamanism was practiced ethnographically by hunter-gatherers in North and

South America, circumpolar Eurasia, and southern Africa. It was also common among

5

horticulturalists (part-time farmers) in the Americas, especially in lowland South

America, and reindeer pastoralists in Eurasia, while elements of shamanistic beliefs and

practices are present in a variety of historical and modern complex and larger-scale

societies.

Partly because of this widespread distribution and differing socio-cultural

contexts, and the range of variation in specific beliefs and practices that this promotes,

there is no universally accepted definition of "shaman," and there is debate about whether

the term should be restricted to northeastern Asian groups or applied more generally.

Based on a global synthesis, Eliade (1972) identified the shaman as a "master of ecstatic

trance," and argued that shamanism was widely present among hunter-gatherer—a view

accepted by most anthropologists (e.g., LaBarre 1980). Earlier, Shirokogoroff (1935)

suggested "master of the spirits" as an alternative definition. More generally, shamans

can be understood as (at least part-time) ritual specialists who are believed to have direct

interactions with spirits, achieved by entering an altered state of consciousness (ASC);

hence the two contrasting definitions reflect different emphases on shamanic practices.

The shamanic cosmos is commonly conceptualized as three (or more) horizontal

layers, vertically connected by a central cosmic axis: the axis mundi, or world tree.

Shamans were believed to access the supernatural spirit world by ascending this cosmic

axis while in an altered state. In Native California, and perhaps elsewhere, the

supernatural world was believed to be the perfect inverse of the natural world.

Fundamental to shamanism is the concept of supernatural power, thought to be

the principal causal agent in the universe (Bean 1976). This power served as the primary

explanatory paradigm for shamanistic thought systems, with success or failure in any

endeavor, from hunting to gambling to warfare to love, seen as a function of the amount

of power an individual controlled. Unlike our concept of 'grace' or 'manna,' power was

ambivalent in the sense that it could be used for beneficial or for adverse ends; most

commonly, either healing the sick or performing sorcery that sickened or killed an

enemy. While all individuals had some level of power, shamans were particularly

strongly endowed with it, and many deaths were attributed to their actions.

The perceived nature of shamanic power was linked to a common shamanistic

perspective. Meyerhoff (1976) described this as a dialectical opposition: the belief that

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the world is forever locked in a state of tension between good and evil, light and

darkness, happiness and grief, etc. Unlike our western concept of the dialectic, thesis in

this shamanic worldview is never dissolved by anti-thesis to yield synthesis—resulting

among other things in our belief in the inevitable triumph of right over wrong. One

reflection of the shamanic dialectical opposition, in contrast, was the ritual emphasis on

maintaining the delicate cosmic balance.

Shamans were believed to obtain their power through an ASC—a vision during

which they received this potency from specific spirits, especially animal spirit helpers.

The vision might consist of a particularly vivid and emotionally charged but unsought

dream, or it might result from a planned vision quest, conducted at a targeted location,

perhaps because of the specific kind of power associated with that spot. Various kinds of

hallucinogens (including especially native tobacco in the Americas; cf. Wilbert 1987)

might be used to induce a vision. Alternatively, fasting, isolation and/or sensory

deprivation can cause or at least contribute to achieving an ASC. Among the southern

African San (or Bushmen), where about 50% of the men and 25% of the women are

shamans (Katz 1976), individuals achieve an ASC through repetitive singing, clapping

and dancing in a group ritual known as the Trance Dance. More typically, shamans were

restricted in number: in eastern California, only about 2 – 4% of males were shamans

(Whitley 2009). Native California shamanism, further, was in theory a ritual office open

to anyone, regardless especially of gender. In practice, strong regional gender patterns

existed: shamans were almost exclusively male in all parts of California except the

northwest, where they were almost invariably female. As discussed below, these gender

patterns were associated with larger distinctions in religious configurations.

Shamanic Rituals. Shamans served a series of ritual functions, resulting from their

supernatural potency and access to spirits. These included conducting periodic

ceremonies, as well as healing, sorcery, rain-making, finding lost objects, divination, and

game charming (e.g., see Park 1938). The last ritual activity included some examples of

so-called hunting-magic, per se (Keyser and Whitley 2006), but more generally can be

understood as reflecting a larger shamanic responsibility: negotiating with the

supernatural spirits to ensure well-being, including subsistence success. Among certain

tribes a key spirit in this regard was the Master of the Game. The shaman visited this

7

spirit, during an ASC, in order to barter for the souls of the game animals that would be

captured in a given year (cf. Reichel-Dolmatoff 1967). This reflected the wider beliefs

that animals allowed themselves to be captured by hunters, and that their spirits would re-

inhabit another body and return the following year, if the animal had been properly killed

(i.e., in accord with the proper hunting prescriptions and proscriptions).

Rituals in shamanistic systems, beyond personal observances, included both

public and private ceremonies where the participation of the shaman varied. Shamanic

rituals, per se, emphasized access to the supernatural world and the manipulation of its

power. Private ceremonies conducted by shamans included their acquisition of power or

vision quest, sorcery, rain-making, and prognostication (e.g., for the location of game or

lost objects). The creation of rock art often culminated these private rites. Public or semi-

public shamanic rituals commonly included "game charming," especially of antelope,

healing and, among certain tribes, various dances associated with specific secret societies.

The shaman's role as a healer is emphasized in much of the recent literature, and

there is no question that it was an important activity and role. (Throughout Native

America, the term "shaman" was often glossed in English as "doctor," and supernatural

power was called "medicine," reflecting this function.) But there is also evidence that this

aspect of a shaman's activities has increased historically, and it may not have been quite

so prominent during the pre-contact period (Whitley 2009), prior to the social and

physical decimation of the tribes resulting from the Euro-American invasion and

conquest. Indeed, many of the older ethnographies equally highlight the activities of the

shaman as sorcerer, focusing on their essentially malevolent or dangerous reputations

(e.g., Gayton 1930).

Shamanic curing rituals, nonetheless, were common globally and were typically

directed towards one of two ends: either retrieving a "lost" soul, in cases of "soul theft,"

or sucking out a "disease object" which was putatively infecting the sick. In both cases,

sorcery was the presumed cause of the illness, and the emphasis was on spiritual and

psychological rather than pharmaceutical/botanical healing (Laird 1976, 1984).

Native California shamanism. Native California ethnography reflects these

general patterns in ritual and belief, and illustrates the variability that they may

nonetheless include. Shamanic cures were commonly conducted in the sick individual's

8

hut or within an open area in a village. Other public shamanic rituals varied tribally. The

Yokuts of south-central California—the single largest tribe in the state—practiced a form

of shamanism with little if any direct relationship between myth and ceremonies. Many

public rituals instead involved shamanic dances and displays of power (cf. Gayton 1930,

1948; Kroeber 1907, 1925). Rattlesnake shamans—who had rattlesnake as their primary

spirit helpers and, for that reason, had a special relationship with these vipers—conducted

a yearly rattlesnake dance, for example. The purpose of this ritual was ostensibly to

ensure that tribal members were not bitten by snakes during the coming year. During the

ceremony the shamans would handle and provoke captured rattlesnakes, inducing the

snakes to strike them, in order to demonstrate their mastery of these creatures and their

power. (In fact, most rattlesnake bites to humans are "dry-bites," with no venom

injected—though this is not always the case, and it is impossible to predict how an

individual snake will react.) Bear shamans—again, with grizzly bears as their spirit

helpers—would conduct a bear dance, during which they putatively transformed

physically into bears. In the heswas ceremony, in contrast, groups of shamans from

opposing moieties would conduct a ritual battle, wherein they would alternate shooting

"magical air-shot"—an invisible disease object which would stricken the intended victim,

causing them to collapse in illness—at one another.

These displays of power were scheduled to coincide with the yearly Yokuts

ceremonial round, which was always the same. It started, in the spring, with the

jimsonweed ceremony (discussed below), then the rattlesnake dance and (where

appropriate) finally the first salmon ceremony. The fall rituals began, in the late summer

after the return from seed gathering camps, with the mourning ceremony (including the

heswas), which commemorated those who had died during the previous year. This was

followed by first seed and acorn rites and then the bear dance (Gayton 1930, 379). In

each case shamans served as ceremonial officials responsible for specific dances and

power displays (Kroeber 1925). A temporary ceremonial enclosure/dance area might be

constructed for certain of these rituals, especially the mourning ceremony, and residents

of nearby villages would also be invited to attend—emphasizing that group rituals had

important social and economic as well as religious implications (Blackburn 1974).

9

Although the location of these rituals—in plain-view in the middle of villages—

reflects their public nature, visibility alone played a limited role in the locational

difference between certain group versus private ceremonies. This is due to the

widespread existence of avoidance proscriptions, combined with the seasonally migratory

nature of hunter-gatherers in general. A husband, e.g., might live for the entirety of his

married life in a small brush hut with his immediate family and mother-in-law, yet never

be allowed to speak to his in-law directly. Similarly, Yokuts rock art sites were typically

located in the middle of villages, and were individually owned by specific

shamans/shamanic lineages. They were known, generically, as "shamans' caches," and

they were the locations of shamans' vision quests (Gayton 1930, 1948). These last rituals

were conducted privately, however, presumably during seasons when the village was

otherwise unoccupied. And despite the fact that the rock art was in plain sight, the sites

were “avoided:” not looked at, never touched, and only approached with caution,

reverence and prayer (Whitley 2000).

The Yuman-speaking tribes (Mojave, Quechan and Cocopa) living along the

Colorado River provide a good contrast with the Yokuts shamanism, especially with

respect to the relationship of myth and ritual. Yuman shamans conducted their vision

quests at the mythic origin point, Avikwame (Spirit Mountain, or Newberry Peak,

Nevada), inhabited by the creator spirit Mastamho. But they were believed to first obtain

their power from a pre-natal dream. This was invariably a vision of Mastamho's creation

of the world; they were born as shamans because it was believed that they had re-

experienced the mythic creation of the world (Devereux 1969; Kroeber 1925).

Yuman rituals (much like Judeo-Christian ceremonies) were based on mythic

events and primarily involved lengthy recitations of mythic song cycles by the shamans.

The curing ceremony, for example, consisted of a repetition of the origin story—a myth

so closely associated with shamans that it as called "the shaman's tale" (Kroeber 1925,

771). But unlike the ritual formalists practicing in World Renewal systems (below), the

repeated "myth" varied from shaman to shaman, consisting in fact of nonsense syllables

(Forde 1931, 127). The purpose of the recitation, as this was explained, was for the

shaman to repeat the pattern or essence of the myth—not the actual narrative sequence of

events, which everyone already knew (Devereux 1957, 1038-41; Kroeber 1957, 231).

10

A strong association existed between ritual locations and mythic places for the

Yuman tribes, again in contrast to the Yokuts. This was most dramatically displayed in

the Xam Kwatcam pilgrimage, which traced and commemorated Mastamho's journey up

and down the Colorado River Valley, as he created the existing landscape and the cultural

institutions and practices of the tribes. The locations of mythic events are marked along

this river corridor with gigantic intaglios or geoglyphs, which were scraped into the

desert pavement and portray the creator and other mythic actors—especially his "evil"

twin, Kaatar. Groups of pilgrims, led by a shaman, would visit these locations in

sequence as they followed the path of the creation, stopping to pray, dance and be

cleansed as they—like the shaman in his putative pre-natal dream—re-experienced their

mythic origin (Whitley 2000).

Initiations and secret societies. All Native Californian shamanistic religions had

initiations of some kind, in some cases individual puberty rites; in others age-group sets

subjected to isolation, secret instructions, and the ingestion of hallucinogens, resulting in

membership in an esoteric cult. The least elaborated of these rites were individual puberty

initiations. Among Numic-speaking (Shoshone and Paiute) tribes in the eastern California

deserts these included a boy's first-kill and a girl's first-menses ceremonies, both oriented

towards instructing the individual in the proper prescriptions and proscriptions involved

in hunting (for the boys) and (for the girls) in menstrual practices and child-birth

(Whitley 2006). Among the Modoc and Klamath in northeastern California, in keeping

with a widespread Columbia Plateau pattern followed in that region to the north,

individual boys and girls were sent on private vision quests by their parents. The purpose

was to enter an ASC, induced by fasting, physical exertion and isolation, and receive a

supernatural spirit helper. Rock art depicting the acquired spirit was created at the

culmination of the initiation (Keyser and Whitley 2000). Among Yuman-speaking groups

along the Colorado River, in contrast, groups of young boys were sent on a long run

through the desert along a specific route—the "Trail of Dreams"—in order to have a

vision which they inscribed on rocks alongside the route. Subsequently their nasal-

septums were pierced for a nose ornament. This occurred at the location where this

ceremony was first conducted mythically, with the pierced septum thought necessary to

acquire warrior status and eventually to enter the land of the dead (Whitley 2006).

11

The initiations in other Native California shamanistic religions were more directly

linked to membership in secret societies or cults. Bean and Vane (1978) have usefully

classified Native California belief systems in terms of three major cult systems:

Toloache, Kuksu, and World Renewal (discussed subsequently). The emphasis on

shamanistic beliefs and practices, including the significance of the shaman as a ritual

official, along with the social and gender implications of these cults, varied substantially

from tribe to tribe, as did many of the ceremonial specifics. Nonetheless, the initiations

throughout Native California served as formal educational systems, and they were

required for leadership or elite status.

Toloache cults were common in south-central and southwestern California. They

are so-named because of their emphasis on jimsonweed—Datura wrightii, known widely

in Native California by its Hispanicized Aztec name, toloache. Jimsonweed is a

particularly potent, and difficult to control, hallucinogen: all parts of the plant contain

hallucinogenic alkaloids, and even topical exposure—such as the application of a poultice

of the leaves to the skin—can result in an ASC. It was usually administered, as a result,

during group ceremonies where initiates could be carefully monitoring and their safety

ensured. The purpose of toloache ingestion was to have a vision, obtain a spirit helper,

and some degree of supernatural power. Toloache cults were, in this sense, intrinsically

shamanistic in substance.

Among the Yokuts, groups of young boys were brought together at puberty and

instructed by a shaman (Gayton 1930, 1948). Included in their preparations and education

was a group run that passed by a shaman's cache—a rock art site—presumably so that

initiates could view the shaman's supernatural visions to better prepare them for their

own. Subsequently they were administered a toloache decoction, marking their entry into

adulthood.

More social, political and economic implications were associated with two other

regional jimsonweed initiation cults: the ?Antap among the Chumash residing along the

coast north of Los Angeles, and the Chingichngish in southwesternmost California. The

Chumash ?Antap cult provided the political and economic leadership for that coastal

society, with its members presiding over ceremonies intended to worship the Sun, a

dangerous male deity, and the earth and her three aspects, wind, rain and fire (Blackburn

12

1974). Initiation into the society appears to have been necessary to ascend into certain

trades, such as canoe building, which existed almost as craft guilds. In addition, World

Renewal-like ceremonies were also conducted at the time of the acorn harvest and the

winter solstice (Bean and Vane 1978). The leadership role of shamans in the ?Antap cult

is not entirely clear, but it is known that they performed curing rites and conducted the

group solstice ceremonies, on a locally prominent mountaintop or peak, intended to

maintain the cosmic balance (e.g., Outland 1956).

The Chingichngish cult was prevalent among the Luiseño, Gabrielino, and Ipai-

Tipai (Boscana [1822] 1978; DuBois 1908; White 1963; cf. Strong 1929), and possibly

may represent either a proto-historic/historic "crisis cult" or revitalization movement, or

appeared as a result of early Christian contact. Said to have been developed by the

shamanic culture-hero Chingichngish, it included an explicit normative moral order

enforced by a series of "avenger" spirits, with its central features then paralleling

Christian themes (White 1963). As DuBois noted, Chingichngish religion:

"had every requisite of a conquering faith. It had a distinct and difficult rule of

life requiring obedience, fasting and self-sacrifice. It had the sanction of fear…It

had an imposing and picturesque ritual. And above all it had the seal of

inviolable secrecy…" (1908, 76).

Boys' initiation into the cult was directed by a shaman's assistant and involved

lengthy instruction, seclusion and purification, in addition to ingesting toloache. An

elaborate sand painting, depicting cosmological concepts, was created and explained at

the culmination of the ceremony.

Kuksu cults were prevalent around the San Francisco Bay area, in the northern

San Joaquin Valley, and in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada to the east, thus being

practiced by the Pomo, Miwok, Maidu and adjacent tribes. Characterized by substantial

local variability, Bean and Vane noted that: "What distinguished the [Kuksu] religion was

its complexity and formalized organization rather than any given ritual feature of it"

(1978, 665).

The Kuksu secret societies involved complex rites of passage and required

significant formal instruction, with membership required for tribal leadership and

political roles. Members of the cults—primarily male in most but not all cases—led

13

cyclical rituals wearing elaborate costumes and were thought to represent ghosts, deities

or spirits. Typically there were at least three levels of membership, novice, initiate and

director, with a variety of positions associated with specific ceremonial roles, including

the Kuksu impersonator who wore a particularly impressive and elaborate headdress.

Among some tribes, there were as many as 10 – 12 ranks, achieved by performance and

payment (Bean and Vane 1978, 667).

The primary goals of the cult ceremonies were to recreate sacred time and restore

the community to its original, pristine condition (Kroeber 1932; Loeb 1932, 1933).

Additional ritual purposes included youth initiation, curing, first-fruits recognition, and

world renewal. Ghost societies often existed in addition to the other cults, but

membership in them led only to a lower social ranking. Their primary ritual activity was

to impersonate the spirits of the dead, serving the same purpose as the annual mourning

ceremonies in the southern half of Native California (Bean and Vane 1978, 666).

The role of the shaman and shamanic beliefs and practices varied in importance

and expression from tribe to tribe, and between different secret societies, though shamans

were everywhere involved in some form or another. Perhaps more importantly, these

cults demonstrate the inseparable links between ritual and social, economic and political

organization in Native California (cf. Blackburn 1974).

World Renewal Religions

The distinction between shamanic and World Renewal systems approximately

parallels the differences sometimes drawn between shamanism versus totemism, increase

rites and/or priestly religions. Following longstanding Native California ethnographic

practice (e.g., Kroeber 1907, 1971; Kroeber and Gifford 1949), I use "World Renewal" as

the preferred generic term because "totemism" is more restrictive and less adequate for

describing the range of similar religions within the global hunter-gatherer ethnographic

record; "priestly" is too broad; and the term "increase rites," common in the Australian

Aboriginal literature, misrepresents the nature of its central ritual function (cf. Elkin

1964, 205).

World Renewal religions were practiced in northwestern California among the

Yurok, Karok, Hupa and Tolowa tribes (as well as in the Pacific Northwest and Alaska to

the north). They included both esoteric and exoteric rites. The primary purpose of the

14

secret, esoteric ceremonies was to periodically re-establish or renew the earth, ensure the

continued availability of plants and animals (like Australian Aboriginal "increase rites")

and the health of individuals, and to prevent calamities. As Kroeber noted:

"The core of the esoteric rite is the recitation of a narrative or dialogue formula

repeating the words of these [creator] spirits in the past, accompanied somewhat

variably by acts of mimetic magic symbolic of their actions at that time" (1971,

466).

The creators were always nameless primordial spirits who had departed or

transformed themselves prior to the human period. The male priest or ritual formulist,

aided by one or more assistants, repeated their words and actions in a fixed order, at the

precise locations where the original events had occurred—thus directly linking ritual and

myth. Priestly lineages owned the secret ritual formulae and, reflecting the emphasis on

individual wealth in these societies, the "owners" of the formulae were paid to perform

the ceremonies. The death and rebirth of the world were symbolically illustrated during

these rites by the rebuilding of sacred structures (primarily sweat- and dance-houses) and

the creation of sacred fires (Bean and Vane 1978).

Exoteric rites more strongly reflected the connection between status, wealth, and

its exchange, through a complex series of ritual feasts associated with two major dance

cycles: The White Deerskin and the Jumping dances. These were hosted by individuals

who invited numerous people from neighboring villages and tribes, resulting in ritual

congregations as large as 1000 people. Wealth and a network of rich and influential

friends were required to host the events. The organizer paid for the feasts (with dentalium

shell beads), provided the ceremonial regalia of the dancers, and owned (or borrowed) the

wealth items that the dancers displayed. Principal among these were rare white albino

deerskins, and very large ceremonial obsidian bifaces (Kroeber 1907, 1925, 1971).

Despite the formulist/priestly emphasis of the World Renewal religions, an

element of shamanism was present where they were practiced. This primarily involved

curing. In an inversion of the pattern that was common throughout the rest of Native

California, curing shamans in northwestern California were typically female (Whitley

2000). This circumstance points to the fundamentally androcentric emphasis of Native

California (and many but not all other hunter-gatherer) religions: the primary ritual

15

specialists were everywhere typically male, with females usually fulfilling secondary

positions4. Although shamans served the principal or sole ritual roles among some tribes,

and in those situations were most often male, women were the shamans among the tribes

were shamanism was of secondary religious importance.

Some External Comparisons

The Native California ethnographic record illustrates the remarkable range of

religious variability among hunter-gatherers, even in a relatively small region, and it

includes many, if not most, of the elements and characteristics of hunter-gatherer

religions worldwide. Still, it does not reflect all of the known variability in hunter-

gatherer religions worldwide, especially when specific aspects of ritual and belief are

considered. What tends to vary is not so much the presence or absence of these elements

and characteristics but they way that they are combined in specific cases, how they are

emphasized, and how they are articulated with other aspects of society.

This point is illustrated by two outwardly different hunter-gatherer religions: the

San (or Bushmen) of southern Africa (Katz 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981, 2002a; Lewis-

Williams and Pearce 2004), and the Australian Aborigines (Elkin 1964, 1977; Layton

1992). San religion is shamanistic. Approximately 50% of the males are shamans,

implying a high level of religious egalitarianism (as also argued for other aspects of San

society; cf. Lee 1979; Marshall 1976). But often overlooked are, first, the fact that half of

the males never become shamans, hence it is far from a universal role, even among the

men. Second, the San themselves seem to recognize a distinction in kind between those

individuals who are born with shamanic power, and those who must work to achieve it

(see Katz 1976, 187), with the first group possibly maintaining more or perhaps a

qualitatively different kind of supernatural potency. Regardless of specifics, those born

with power seem to be acknowledged as the real San religious authorities and leaders,

despite the relative commonness of shamans in general terms within the society as a

whole. A parallel can be drawn in this case to the Toloache cults of Native California.

Although the shaman maintained a formal ritual role among these tribes, most but not all

men were initiated into the cult organizations through a shamanistic experience. They

were not shamans in name, but they had some degree of shamanistic power, and they had

personally experienced the supernatural world. The primary differences between the

16

Native Californian toloache cults and San shamanism then appear to consist of the greater

levels of secrecy and training involved in the first, and the frequency of individual

visionary experiences in the second. These are variations of degree more than differences

in kind.

Australian Aboriginal religion, in contrast, is generally viewed as "totemic" and

therefore non-shamanistic, yet this belies the significance and place of so-called

Aboriginal "clever men"—i.e., shamans by a different name—as is well documented

ethnographically (e.g., Elkin 1977). Shamanism is not a central emphasis of these

religions, yet it is undeniably a component of them (Eliade 1972). Still, the outstanding

characteristics of Aboriginal ritual and belief systems, seen comparatively, are their

profound connection to (totemic) kinship, the strong correlation between myth and ritual,

the fundamental importance of cults/secret societies and initiations, and the place of

world renewal—the periodic "increase rites" performed to ensure the continued existence

of various species (Elkin 1964; Gould 1969; Layton 1992). Aboriginal religions are

remarkable partly because of the complexity of Aboriginal kinship systems and, due to

the close connection between ritual and social organization, the resulting complexity that

this imparts on the specifics of religious practice. These again are matters of degree more

than kind, when seen from the perspective of global comparisons. Aboriginal religions in

this sense can also be understood as variations on patterns present among hunter-

gatherers elsewhere in the world, including in Native California, where secret societies

with elaborate initiations, close ties between myth and ritual, and central concern with

world renewal also occur.

The Archaeology of Hunter-Gatherer Religions

For much of the last half-century, and for a variety of reasons, archaeology

ignored prehistoric religions. This situation has changed over the last decade, with the

study of prehistoric hunter-gatherer religions representing one of the strongest focuses of

this growing archaeological sub-discipline. Rock art has been the primary (but not

exclusive) data source for the majority of this research. Topically, these studies have

emphasized shamanism (e.g., Lewis-Williams 1981; Turpin 1994; Chippindale et al.

2000; Boyd 2003; Lewis-Williams and Pierce 2004), the social implications of ritual

(e.g., Lewis-Williams 1982; Whitley 1994a), and the origin of hunter-gatherer religions

17

(e.g., Lewis-Williams 1984, 2002b; Clottes and Lewis-Williams 1996; Taçon et al. 1996;

David 2002; Whitley 2009; Whitley et al. 2007), among others. Methodologically,

research has included a significant concern with the incorporation of ethnohistoric and

ethnographic data in archaeological analyses (e.g., Layton 1992, 2001; Keyser et al.

2006), and analytical and interpretive approaches (e.g., Conkey 1989, 2001; Lewis-

Williams and Loubser 1986; Ross and Davidson 2006; Whitley 2001), especially the use

of neuropsychological (e.g., Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988; Whitley 1994b) and

communication (e.g., Conkey 1985; Davidson 1989; McDonald 1994) models. Although

the distinction is imperfect, research in shamanistic contexts tends to be more concerned

with symbolism and meaning, whereas studies in regions with formulist/world renewal

systems more commonly emphasize the implications of religious expression in social

interaction. Given the geographical patterning in the ethnographic distribution of these

two opposite poles of the hunter-gatherer religious continuum, research in western North

America and southern Africa, where shamanism is prevalent, has followed a different

trajectory than in Australia, where totemic world renewal religions are dominant.

Research on European Upper Paleolithic religion, dating between about 35,000 and

10,000 YBP, in contrast lacks a relevant ethnographic starting point. Perhaps as a result,

both analytical approaches have been applied to the early prehistoric religion of this

region.

I consider just two of these many topics in the following discussion:

archaeological (as opposed to ethnographic) analytical approaches pertinent to analyzing

shamanistic and formulist religious configurations; and the origins of hunter-gatherer

religions more generally.

Analytical approaches

Two formal analytical models have been developed to determine whether a

corpus of prehistoric rock art was created in a shamanistic or in a formulist ritual context.

The first and most widely applied is the so-called Neuropsychological (N-P) Model for

trance imagery (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988; Lewis-Williams 2001). Building on

published clinical and ethnographic accounts and laboratory conclusions, Lewis-Williams

synthesized a model of the characteristics of the mental images resulting from an ASC,

consisting of three components. Visionary imagery, first, commonly includes the

18

perception of a series of geometric light designs internally-generated by an individual's

optical and neural systems. Called "entoptic patterns," these are simple images such as

zigzags and parallel lines; seven of these are widely described by clinical subjects and

ethnographic consultants. Second, visual perception during an ASC differs from "normal"

vision, resulting in a characteristic set of perceptual tendencies. These include features

such as the rotation of an image off a standard visual plane (i.e., a ground or horizon-

line), or the helter-skelter juxtaposition of one image atop another. Seven common

"principles of perception" were synthesized from the clinical and ethnographic literature.

Third, the clinical descriptions indicated that ASCs commonly (though not invariably)

progress through three stages. Initially an individual perceives entoptic designs—

geometric patterns—alone. Next, these are construed as personally or culturally

meaningful representational images (e.g., a set of nested curves is interpreted as the rack

of a bighorn sheep). Finally, full-blown iconic hallucinations develop, sometimes with

co-occurring entoptic imagery.

Subsequent to developing the N-P model with the independent clinical and

anthropological data, Lewis-Williams and Dowson (1988) tested it by examining the rock

art of two regions known, on ethnographic grounds, to have been created by shamans to

depict their visionary imagery: the San rock paintings of South Africa, and the Coso rock

engravings from California. Because the predictions specified by the model adequately

accounted for the range of variation found in these two test cases, they concluded that the

N-P model could be used to analyze true prehistoric cases, lacking any associated

ethnographic record, to determine whether a given corpus of art likely depicted the

mental imagery of an ASC. Because trance is a central component of shamanic religions

(e.g., Eliade 1972; Siikala 1978), it follows inferentially that evidence for altered states

imagery implies a shamanistic origin for the art. They then used the model to determine

whether European Upper Paleolithic cave art was likely shamanistic. Importantly,

however, the N-P model solely concerns the origin, not symbolic meaning, of a corpus of

art (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988). And although it is often used in conjunction

with ethnographic data to develop multiple lines of evidence, in fact it is a formal model

that is entirely independent of the ethnography.

19

A second useful analytical approach has been illustrated by Ross and Davidson

(2006), based on an ethnographic model of ritual form first developed by Rappaport

(1999)5. The evidentiary emphasis in this case concerns repeated and stylized behavior

and, for that reason, the model is most appropriately applied in cases where formal cults

and/or formulist religious systems are suspected, or wish to be ruled-out. The intent of the

ritual form model is to systematically determine whether a rock art corpus originated in

religious ceremony rather than due to secular activities, and to identify the associated

ritual's structural form rather than its specific contents. The model has seven features:

invariance resulting from an adherence to a sanctified set of rules; repetition of the ritual;

periodicity or scheduling linked to specialized times; locational selectivity employing

specialized places; formal or stylized as opposed to informal or spontaneous behavior;

performance by a ritual actor and participation by an audience; and persistence in the use

of canonical messages—i.e., messages putatively encoded by the supernatural (Ross and

Davidson 2006).

Ross and Davidson examined central Australian Desert rock art using a series of

archaeologically visible characteristics that are a function of these seven features.

Although some features were more difficult to operationalize or identify archaeologically

than others, they nonetheless were able to distinguish ritual versus non-ritual art; to

identify possible contemporaneous but different ritual forms; and to discover changes in

ritual form over time.

It is important to emphasize that, as the ethnographic review illustrates, hunter-

gatherer religions were not necessarily purely shamanistic and idiosyncratic, or entirely

non-shamanistic/formulist/priestly. Instead a true continuum exists with many traits,

characteristics and elements combined and emphasized in a wide variety of ways. Seen in

global context, for example, shamanistic rituals range from private, highly individualistic

ceremonies (such as a specific shaman's private vision quest, at a power spot that they

owned and exclusively used) to cult initiations (e.g., the Native Californian Toloache and

Kuksu secret societies). The rituals in these last religious configurations, while ostensibly

esoteric and secret, in some cases involved the creation of shamanic art portraying the

characteristics predicted by the N-P model of the mental imagery of trance (e.g., see

Whitley 2000). But they also were conducted periodically, were formally structured,

20

included many (even if not all) of the members of a given tribal society, and were

sometimes held at specific ceremonial locations. World Renewal religions, based on

specific religious formulae recited by priests at mythic locations, were also similarly

structured, but they lacked any concern with visionary imagery. The N-P and ritual form

models, in this sense, are best understood as potentially complementary analytical

approaches, reflecting the fact that the first emphasizes ritual content, and the second

form or structure.

Origins of Hunter-Gatherer Religion

The origin and time-depth of hunter-gatherer religions, at both global and regional

scales, have been important topics of recent archaeological research, with studies in

Southern Africa, Western Europe, Australia, Siberia and Western North America. Rock

art again has provided the primary data for these investigations.

Shamanism has been long assumed the earliest religion, thought to have first

appeared with the development of behaviorally and cognitively modern humans. When

behavioral and cognitive modernity first appeared is a heavily researched, and hotly

debated, topic. I have recently argued that, while there are many behavioral traits that are

necessary characteristics of "modernity," two are necessary and sufficient from the

perspective of archaeological identification: religious beliefs and practices, and

representational art (Whitley 2009). The earliest currently known examples of

representational art are from southern Africa (Apollo 11 cave, Namibia, dating to about

27,000 YBP; Wendt 1976), and various sites in Western Europe (from approximately

40,000 YBP; see Clottes 2008). Consensus holds in both cases that these arts are the

products of religion. A number of researchers, primarily based on analyses using the N-P

Model for trance imagery, have inferred that this African and European art portrays the

visionary imagery of trance, and is shamanistic (Clottes and Lewis-Williams 1996;

Dowson and Porr 2001; Lewis-Williams 1984, 2002; Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988;

Lewis-Williams and Pearce 2004; Whitley 2009). These studies support the longstanding

assumption that shamanism was in fact the original hunter-gatherer religion.

As the ethnographic review indicates, however, shamanistic rituals themselves are

quite variable, and the ritual form(s) of these early religions are as yet unknown.

Villeneuve (2008), in this regard, has provided a detailed analysis of the structural

21

characteristics of the European Paleolithic sites, from the perspective of ritual proxemics,

or use of space. Her analysis suggests that, even within the framework of shamanistic

beliefs and practices, different kinds of rituals may have been conducted at these

Paleolithic sites.

Siberian shamanism has been the focus of substantial attention partly because of

its rich ethnographic record (e.g., Shirokogoroff 1935; Siikala 1978), and in part due to

the emphasis it received in Eliade's (1972) widely read global synthesis. Based on the

numerous specific similarities between Siberian and North American ritual practices

(e.g., Schlesier 1987), Americanist researchers have assumed that "classic" Siberian

shamanism was the source for New World shamanism, suggesting that it was a kind of

Paleolithic relict (e.g., Furst 1977; Kroeber 1923; LaBarre 1980). But archaeological

research on the antiquity of Asian shamanism itself has resulted in a very different

conclusion. Based on a variety of lines of evidence, there is consensus that shamanism

only appeared in northeastern Asia approximately 4000 years ago, at the end of the

Neolithic or beginning of the Bronze Age (Devlet 2001; Jacobson 2001; Rozwadowski

2001, 2004; Rozwadowski and Kosko 2002). The prehistoric origins of Siberian religion

more generally, and the nature of the earliest northeast Asian religion, are currently

unknown.

This circumstance has implications for the origins of New World religions. A

variety of lines of evidence indicate that the earliest Native American religions were

shamanistic, and that they have about 12,000 or more years of time-depth (Whitley et al.

1999; Whitley 2004). The remarkable similarity between Siberian and Native American

shamanism, in light of the disparity in their respective ages, promotes the speculation that

"classic" Siberian shamanism itself may represent the relatively recent diffusion of some

religious beliefs and practices from North America (Whitley 2009), rather than having

served as the original source of Native American religions, as has long been assumed.

A final topic related to the origins of shamanistic religions concerns the time-

depth of the Native Californian ?Antap cult, practiced ethnographically by the Chumash.

Rock art studies, site surveys and mortuary analyses suggest that this cult may have

developed about 800 – 1000 years ago, accompanied by major changes in the location

and nature of socio-political leadership (Martz 1984; Whitley et al. 2007). Among others,

22

these include a shift in emphasis from shamanistic/religious leadership to increasingly

secular socio-political control.

The antiquity of Australian Aboriginal totemic "Dreamtime" religions has also

been the focus of recent research. The conclusion of one study is that it may be as much

as 6000 years old (Taçon et al. 1996); a contrasting investigation suggests that, at most, it

is half that age (David 2002). In either case, given the very long prehistory of human

occupation of the continent, these religions are relatively youthful, and much remains to

be determined about prehistoric rituals on this continent (cf. Ross and Davidson 2006),

including the possibility for earlier shamanistic beliefs (cf. Chippindale et al. 2000).

Conclusions

It is a well-known fact that hunter-gatherers had some of the most complex

kinship systems ever recorded. The varieties of totemic social organization among the

Australian Aborigines, and the inverse relationship between their technological/material

cultural sophistication and kinship complexity, is a well-known example (cf. Elkin 1964).

The conclusion is that the hunter-gatherer cognitive world was varied, quite complex, and

that we should expect that their religious, ritual and symbolic systems would be equally

rich, nuanced and variable. Ethnographic Native Californian religion demonstrates this

point: these varied from barely elaborated forms of shamanism, to formal shamanic cults

and secret societies, to priestly World Renewal religions, with almost every variation in

between. Similar variability is evident worldwide. The tendency to conceptualize hunter-

gatherer religions as an opposition between either shamanism or totemism, as-if all

hunter-gatherer religions can be satisfactorily placed into one of these two categories,

reduces a diverse empirical reality to near-unrecognizable simplicity. Future analyses will

benefit from an explicit acknowledgment of the empirical complexity implied by "hunter-

gatherer religions."

The archaeology of hunter-gatherer religions has been neglected, like the study of

prehistoric religion more generally, for complex intellectual and historical reasons. This

has started to change, largely through the efforts of rock art research which, in portions of

the world at least, has emphasized just this dimension of the past. But there are still areas

of research that need development. As the above implies, further research necessarily

must start with an understanding of religions in general terms, rather than the imposition

23

of implicit assumptions about the nature of this phenomenon based on the western Judeo-

Christian model. It will also require apprehension of the ethnography of traditional, non-

western religions. This is not because all prehistoric religions were necessarily equivalent

to ethnographic cases, but because the ethnography provides a known range of variation

that can be used to assay and calibrate prehistoric evidence. Equally importantly,

archaeologists need an understanding of how religions can change. Although there are

useful discussions of this topic in anthropology (e.g., Bloch 1986, 1992; Sahlins 1985),

archaeologists too widely conceptualize change as always catastrophic rather than

potentially gradual, or even reversible, over time. (Since western Judeo-Christian ritual

and beliefs exhibit great time-depth, despite massive alterations in other aspects of

society, we should recognize the potential for religious persistence in prehistoric cases,

even in light of other shifts in the archaeological record.)

Hunter-gatherers are of course an anomaly if not an enigma in our contemporary

modern world. Are there still any "full-time" or "pure" hunter-gatherers—defined, as

their appellation emphasizes, in terms of subsistence practices? Or are hunter-gatherers

instead simply historical and prehistoric phenomena that are now only relevant to

academic interests in evolution and history? Regardless of your opinion on this point,

hunter-gatherer religions themselves persist, often alongside western beliefs and practices

(Bean and Vane 1978; Elkin 1964; White 1963). This is more than an esoteric fact, given

the increasing importance of heritage management and environmental regulation in

western pluralistic societies, whose political and legal land development processes award

substantial influence if not control to indigenous stakeholders. Almost invariably,

indigenous descendants' primary interests in these contexts concern religion, especially

sacred sites, their protection and use. Hunter-gatherer subsistence and technology may

have little if any direct relevance to contemporary western societies, beyond intellectual

interests (important though these may be). But hunter-gatherer religion, and its

implications especially for land development and growth, is an important practical matter

whose relevance is likely to grow. Understanding hunter-gatherer religion by all involved

in these processes and procedures is critical in this regard.

End notes

24

1 – "Native California" as used here includes all of the indigenous groups residing, at

Euro-American contact, in the modern political state of California. Because this includes

portions of different culture areas, it is (historically at least) an artificial analytical

distinction—although most members of California tribes now recognize themselves (after

their own tribal affiliation) as "Native Californians" rather than "Northwest Coast" or

"Great Basin" Indians. Precedent for the use of the political state as a unit of

anthropological study is provided especially by Alfred Kroeber (e.g., 1907, 1925) and, as

indicated above, the cultural diversity of hunter-gatherers within the confines of

contemporary California make it particularly appropriate for this current purpose.

2 – I use the term "tribe" in this chapter in its contemporary Native American sense—a

cultural, linguistic and social community with shared ancestry—rather than in its

technical/anthropological usage (implying a specific kind of social organization).

3 – Note that my definitions of myth and folktale are not necessarily applicable beyond

hunter-gatherer cultures. The melding of the primordial with the historical past is

especially characteristic of world religions, or "religions of the book."

4 – One ethnographic justification for the rarity of Native California female ritual leaders

in shamanic religions involved the belief that menstrual blood was inimical to

supernatural power; hence women were de facto excluded from obtaining shamanic

power (at least until they reached menopause), even though in theory anyone could

receive it. Contemporary (as opposed to ethnographic) tribal shamanism increasingly

emphasizes healing over all other shamanic activities (such as sorcery), and much more

readily accommodates female shamans, who are now common in tribal contexts.

5 – Rappaport (1999) presented his model as a "universal" structure for all religious

rituals, but his definition of ritual was narrow, and his model ignores important aspects of

the variability that characterizes hunter-gatherer shamanistic religions, seen globally. It

remains a very useful though not universal analytical tool, however, especially as

developed for archaeology by Ross and Davidson (2006).

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