Skinwalkers and the Witchery Way
Posted on January 2, 2017
By Christopher O’Brien
In August 2008, WEX head explorer David Hatcher Childress suggested that I should “…write a book about skinwalkers…” telling, me “crypto-creatures are big right now.” I remember responding that it would be virtually impossible because very little has been written on the subject of skinwalkers and that it would be a challenge to attempt to write an in-depth magazine article on the subject—forget about a full-length book. But he did get me thinking. Why not use the skinwalker as a boilerplate to examine his ancient uncles—the tricksters? So, what follows is an expanded examination of these legendary adepts adapted from my book Stalking the Tricksters.
One important element that seems to correlate tricksters forms trans-culturally is the ability to shapeshift and this ability is allegedly found among skinwalkers and other black adepts as we will see. When you start researching anything bizarre, especially phenomena way outside of the box—like skinwalkers or other indigenous dark adepts, for example—you start at the base, at the very beginning of the existing history of interpretation. It’s always been obvious to me that the oral tradition of most indigenous cultures contains many clues to explain the high strange—including a unique brand of insightful wisdom—and it seemed to me that there was a good likelihood that Native American interpretations might provide important insight. So, in 1993, I began documenting unexplained reports and researching the belief systems of the most local of the 13 tribes from three regional groups of Indians that visited the San Luis Valley, where I lived. I concentrated on the Ute, Tewa, Diné (Navajo/Apache) and Pueblo Indians. I wanted to know: are there traditional interpretations that could help explain the region’s UFO-type activity, for instance, or provide insight into the occult, or explain the strange mysterious unusual cattle deaths? Over the years I have amassed quite a list of attributional information as it relates generally to witches, sorcerers, witchcraft and the occult in general and most of the apparent cultural bias seemed unique to south-central Colorado/north-central New Mexico where most of the reports I researched and investigated were generated. This region of the continent is located just beyond the extreme northern extent of the earliest incursion into North America by Europeans. It is a place where indigenous belief has blended and melded with a unique brand of Catholic fundamentalism. Due to its isolation for generations, the 500 years of subcultural programming has slowly developed a blend of indigenous and western interpretation that give this subculture a unique set of superstitions and beliefs. This region is a superb sociological Petri dish/melting pot of belief. This holds true especially around traditions of Native adepts who are said to be able to manipulate reality around the power of their will, for good or for evil purposes or for amoral trickery.
Pueblo Indian Beliefs
Skinwalkers are by literal definition a Dine’ tradition. Before we dive into the perilous world of the skinwalker, lets look at the concept of witchcraft in the Pueblo Indian’s traditions where much of Dine’ knowledge and beliefs have been, borrowed and culturally adapted since their arrival in the Southwest United States in the 12th and 13th Century.
I recently borrowed a rather hard-to-find 1989 book from a Zuni Elder titled Witchcraft and Sorcery of Native American Peoples edited by Deward E. Walker, Jr. It is a collection of academic papers that have been published on the subject that extend back into the early 19th Century. It makes for fascinating reading as it is filled with little known facts and peculiar beliefs of Indian peoples as it relates to their secretive world of witches, sorcerers and their practices:
Pueblo witches are thought to cause windstorms during dances, alienate the affections of mates by offering one the power for new conquests, and destroy crops by bringing grasshoppers or other plagues. More important, illness (including madness) and death, except for the very old, are believed to result from one’s wrongdoing or from the work of a witch…Frank Hamilton Cushing was the first Anglo to spend time at the Zuni Pueblo and he observed that witchcraft and cowardice in battle were the only offenses in Zuni society that could bring the death penalty, a statement [that can be] made for all the pueblos…
When it comes to witchcraft and witches, Pueblo Indians are still today highly suspicious of their neighboring pueblos. Belief in witchcraft is widespread and there are variations between tribal traditions that appear to exacerbate these suspicions. Generally, witches practice their craft secretly within their own pueblo, however the fear of witches from outside Pueblos is very real. I’ve have learned that a secret trial involving witchcraft within two pueblos is currently underway and this suggests that this “taboo” topic is still very much alive in modern pueblo society. Anthropologist Florence Ellis notes in her chapter on Pueblo Witchcraft in Witchcraft and Sorcery of Native American Peoples:
Zuni and Acoma say that the Santa Domingo is the most witch-ridden pueblo. Santa Domingo makes the same comment about Acoma and Zuni. The Lagunas, one year, [in the 1930s] would not buy woman’s woven woolen dresses from Zuni, because it was rumored that Zuni witches were peddling dresses stolen from corpses.
As I mentioned, shapeshifting seems to be a common thread that is found throughout most, if not all, Southwestern Native American traditions relating to witches legendary abilities. These adepts allegedly are able to transform into a variety of animal forms. They can also allegedly use various animal’s body parts to transform some aspect of their humanness into that of a desired animal. Some accounts in the Northern Rio Grande pueblos mention the ability to change into fire-balls, or “flaming bowls” when they need to travel somewhere extremely fast. I have received reports from terrified locals claiming to have seen fireballs that they report to me as “witches.” Where are they going and what is their agenda? According to legend, these adepts are said to meet regularly in enclaves in caves or by large, isolated rock formations. In the San Luis Valley there is a legend that witches have been meeting for hundreds of years at the “witch rocks” southwest of Sanford, Colorado, north of State Highway 42—about two miles up County Road U. For decades, strange lights have been reported in the area. Florence Ellis relates what was commonly thought about pueblo witch society enclaves in the early 20th Century.
Witch society meetings are thought to be held in the dead of night in a cave at some distance from the pueblo. The witches arise, slip outside quietly, and change themselves into animals, coyotes, toads, dogs, crows, hawks, or other birds, to travel to the meeting in the cave. One tale relates the plight of a wife who left her human eyes in a cup in the house and used owl eyes, but when she returned in the early morning the human eyes had been found by her husband and dunked in urine, which made them forever unusable…Details of what goes on in the cave are few because witches are not informants, and persons who do not belong to a ceremonial society never know proceedings of a society…According to Isletans, the secret witch meetings are held…on a black mesa known as Shemtua, about five miles northeast of the pueblo, near the Los Padillas boundry line. The cave in which the Sandia witches meet is in the Sandias [mountains]. The Hopi speak openly of witches meeting at a cluster of large rocks in the valley northeast of the villages…[There is] a cliff in the lower portion of the Cañada de Cochiti where, the Cochitis believe, witches go in the shape of the animals and birds named above for a meeting each Friday night. Crows and coyotes are favorite forms. At a proper signal the cliff opens to show a lighted cavern. In the cavern they change again to their human forms. They discuss witch plans until they must assume their disguises again to hurry home before dawn. The general witch headquarters are said to be in Mexico, possible the reason why “the south” is mentioned in connection with various things in the witch stories.
Navajo and Apache Witchcraft
Beside the little-known information about Diné witchcraft and skinwalkers I have found in obscure self-published books from Navajo authors and from academic compilations, there are a few fleeting references to these black magician shapeshifters on the Internet. Here is a thumbnail sketch from theunexplainedmysteries.com that pretty much encapsulates the extent of my knowledge when I initially began researching the subject for Stalking the Tricksters:
Although [a skinwalker] is most frequently seen as a coyote, wolf, owl, fox, or crow, the yeenaaldlooshii is said to have the power to assume the form of any animal they choose, depending on what kind of abilities they need. Witches use the form for expedient travel, especially to the Navajo equivalent of the ‘Black Mass‘, a perverted song (and the central rite of the Witchery Way) used to curse instead of to heal. They also may transform to escape from pursuers. Some Navajo also believe that skinwalker have the ability to steal the “skin” or body of a person. The Navajo believe that if you lock eyes with a skinwalker they can absorb themselves into your body. It is also said that skinwalker avoid the light and that their eyes glow like an animal’s when in human form and when in animal form their eyes do not glow as an animal’s would.
Researching Native American witchcraft and other traditional knowledge as it relates to a modern definition of the paranormal is an extremely difficult subject to tackle—especially for me; a nosy white boy, wearing a black cowboy hat. During my 13-year field-investigation/research project in the San Luis Valley (SLV) in south-central Colorado/north-central New Mexico that resulted in my Mysterious Valley book series, I gathered information from indigenous people about the strange goings-on that have apparently always blistered the magical four-corners region. Slowly over time I have been able to compile an intriguing number of legends, myths and stories that reveal a rich tradition of beliefs as it relates to witchcraft and the occult. Over the years I’ve noticed witnesses’ personal bias and what appear to be subcultural preconceptions around these subjects. For instance, this bias included sub-cultural references to “witches” and “skinwalkers” when interpreting their sightings of “balls of light,” orbs or unusual individuals in their environment. Because of the claims “high-strange” quality, and a predictable lack of specific data points, most of these reports did not make it into my SLV Event Log of documented unexplained events that contains almost one thousand entries. However, whenever someone reported something weird and used traditional interpretations to explain the phenomenon they observed, I took extra notice. If the event had a date to log, even better, I could include it in my database.
Along with my fascination for all things magical and wondrous, and having obtained knowledge studying the Western Esoteric tradition over the years, naturally I was intrigued by hints of information held by the local natives. So, I started digging. The term witchcraft doesn’t accurately apply because this form Navajo spirituality has little to do with the practices and beliefs of a European style, or form of witchcraft. In fact, Navajo “witchcraft,” is simply another aspect or set of “ways” within the existing Navajo spiritual culture. There seems to be a strict taboo around speaking of those who practice the Witchery Way, and very few, if any Navajo will acknowledge the subject to outsiders. The paranormal.lovetoknow.com website has a very informative page on Navajo witchcraft, they state:
The four basic “ways” of Navajo witchcraft are, “Witchery, Sorcery, Wizardry and Frenzy.” None of the four are actually witchcraft in the European sense of the word. They are simply additional parts of the vast spirituality of the Navajo people. [W]itchcraft is not separate from Navajo spirituality, it is simply another set of “Ways” within the Navajo religion. The Navajo believe that people must live in harmony with Mother Earth, and that there are two classes of beings, Earth People who are mortals, and the Holy People who are unseen spiritual beings. They believe these beings have the ability to either help or harm mortals. The Navajo believe that illness and life problems are “disorder” within one’s life that can be remedied with herbs, prayer, songs, medicine men and ceremonies. However, while medicine men learn the Navajo Ways to heal and aid those who are afflicted, there are others who practice Navajo witchcraft and seek to direct spiritual forces to cause harm or misfortune to others.
Most forms of this Witchery way are apparently focused on corpses and death and the Navajo have a fervent avoidance of death.
Who is Stalking Whom?
In late 1998, a prominent member of the Crestone, Colorado community where I lived approached me. She casually asked what I knew about “Indian witchcraft.” The request was out of character and I instantly sensed something unusual was behind her low-key request. I related to her basic information pertaining to rituals of intent and protection, the use of power talismans and the like and she interrupted me, took me aside and told me about a strange adorned animal spine and skull bundle that had been found hanging on a creek behind her house. It seems she had recently experienced a falling out with a visiting Native American “medicine man” and then, some time later, this scary-looking bundle turned up near her house. She had a mystery on her hands, and naturally, she thought of the two events as being linked somehow. Did I know what the bundle was or what it was used for? She claimed it had immediately been disposed of and hadn’t been saved, but it was obvious that she was concerned enough about the artifact to ask me for my opinion. Without seeing the bundle and studying it—making note of the objects and how they were arranged, it was difficult for me to translate or interpret, but I offered to conduct a cleansing and blessing at the spot where the scary-looking artifact was discovered. Several months went by and everything seemed normal. She never mentioned the event again, nor did I ever ask her for an update on the peculiar situation; some questions are better left unasked, and this was one of them.
Some months later, I had moved out into the valley to a sentry-like, two-story house with a majestic view of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains three miles to the east. The house was completely surrounded by lush elk meadow with nary a tree or a neighbor within a quarter-mile. The house was feebly equipped with a 500-watt solar system that would barely power my computer on a sunny day.
One evening, Wednesday November 10, 1999, at 6:20 PM, I was taking a shower in the attached greenhouse. Looking out the west-facing plate glass windows that made up the western side of the greenhouse, I noticed, with a start, what could only be described as a antler-adorned, six-foot tall, bi-pedal creature gliding across the front of the windows, from left-to-right. The being was in the shadow just out of the thin light projected out to the yard, but I was able to easily discern its distinctive shape. When I first noticed movement, I was facing sideways to the window and only had a peripheral view of the apparition but, as I turned, I distinctly witnessed something the likes of which I’ve never seen before or since. Looking back at the event today, I’m surprised I wasn’t completely freaked seeing this apparition, as I was standing naked, all soaped up. But looking at my notes I am reminded that the weirdness didn’t end there. Later that evening, at 11:30 PM, I was with my friend Amber, we observed what appeared to be a “prairie-dragon like form” travel from the porch through the dog door, into the living room. Amber and I simultaneously saw a transparent “beige-colored form” enter through the dog door, which was only two feet away from us. We both heard what sounded like a dog “whine.”
I learned later that what I witnessed while taking a shower is eerily similar to Diné accounts of a skinwalker lurking about. They are sometimes depicted wearing antlers and whatever it was I witnessed definitely had an impressive rack! The coyote-like form my friend Amber and I witnessed later that evening put an exclamation point on the day. But, reviewing my event log I am reminded of another weird incident that occurred the prior late summer/early fall. I had been sitting downstairs alone watching TV in the living room, when a rapid succession of rapping sounds circled the house around the walls of the second story above. The five or six raps banged in a clockwise circle around the house’s upper story and I bolted outside with a flashlight to see whatever it was. Nothing. I made note of it but I’m still puzzled today—years later—what it could have been. While researching this chapter, I found that rapping sounds going around your house are attributed by some Diné as being a skinwalker attempting to get your attention! OK…
What is a Skinwalker?
That blustery fall in the SLV, was I being watched (or haunted?) by a skinwalker? Probably not, but the curious synchronicities are worthy of mention. Skinwalkers are said to be evil sorcerers that exist alongside and among the Diné people. They are said to practice the “Witchery Way,” be able to transform themselves into a variety of animal forms, and practice a particularly feared form of black magic. The actual term “skinwalker” comes from the Diné description “with it, he goes on all fours” or yeenaaldlooshii. This term refers to the skinwalker’s alleged ability to change into a four-legged animal such as a coyote, wolf, fox or sometimes a bear. As a result of this belief, it is taboo to wear the skins of these carnivores. Sheepskin and calfskin are acceptable, but carnivore skin used for clothing is extremely frowned upon. In the Diné tradition, there are several different types of witches, but skinwalkers (most often male) are said to be the most powerful and deeply feared by the Navajo and Apache people. There is much superstition around the belief in these dark adepts and it is rare to get a Diné person to open up and address the subject. No matter how modern how modern our world, this traditional belief still exists today across the windswept high-deserts of the Southwestern United States that the Navajo and Apache call home.
Popular New Mexico journalist/author Tony Hillerman wrote many novels about the Navajo reservation before his recent death in late 2008. I am a big fan and I was going to ask him for an interview for this book. In his many entertaining books he revealed a remarkable amount of information concerning the Diné lifestyle and belief. In his autobiography he mentions how he was able to befriend many Navajo and translate their candor into fiction—out in the field he had I what I call a superb “bedside manner.” In one novel, Skinwalkers, his protagonists (Navajo Policemen “Joe Leaphorn” and “Jim Chee”) attempt to get to the bottom of several murders thought by the locals to have been perpetrated by a skinwalker. Although Hillerman presented only a small amount of information about skinwalkers in the novel, the book does focus on the impact of the subject on The People. His characters ring true. Hillerman responded to questions about the subject in an interview before he passed:
Skinwalkers are tied up with the Navajo concept of good and evil. The Navajos believe that life is a kind of wind blowing through you. Some people have a dark wind, and they tend to be evil. How do you tell? People who have more money than they need and aren’t helping their kinfolk—that’s one symptom of it. Along with this tendency toward evil, if they’re initiated into a witchcraft cult, they get a lot of powers. Depending on the circumstances, they can turn into a dog; they can fly; they can disappear. There are many versions of a skinwalker, but that’s basically what it is. A lot of Navajos will tell me emphatically, especially when they don’t know me very well, that they don’t believe in all that stuff. And then when you get to be a friend, they’ll start telling you about the first time they ever saw one.
Traditionally, skinwalkers are able to change themselves into dogs, and traditionally they wear the skin of a dog over their shoulders or the skull of a dog as a cap. So I guess that’s the reason for the term. I’ve never had anyone explain it to me. Navajos just don’t like to talk about it much, even when you’ve known them a long time. It’s kind of obscene, you see. It’s something you don’t talk about in polite company. There’s a feeling that a skinwalker might be listening and might want to get even with you. You’re kind of uneasy about it …I know that [Hillerman’s book Skinwalkers] is one of the more popular books among Navajo young people. Maybe it’s a little bit like pornography to them. But I’ve had no objections to the book. It’s hard to judge, because Navajos are incredibly polite. They just do not like to offend people. more here
https://www.ourstrangeplanet.com/ski...-witchery-way/
