of Huanca, he found
its inhabitants had installed in their temples the figure of a dog as
their highest deity. They were accustomed also to select one as his
living representative, to pray to it and offer it sacrifice, and when
well fattened, to serve it up with solemn ceremonies at a great feast,
eating their god _substantialiter_. The priests in this province
summoned their attendants to the temples by blowing through an
instrument fashioned from a dog's skull.[138-1] This canine canonization
explains why in some parts of Peru a priest was called by way of honor
_allco_, dog![138-2] And why in many tombs both there and in Mexico
their skeletons are found carefully interred with the human remains.
Wherever the Aztec race extended they seem to have carried the adoration
of a wild species, the coyote, the _canis latrans_ of naturalists. The
Shoshonees of New Mexico call it their progenitor,[138-3] and with the
Nahuas it was in such high honor that it had a temple of its own, a
congregation of priests devoted to its service, statues carved in stone,
an elaborate tomb at death, and is said to be meant by the god Chantico,
whose audacity caused the destruction of the world. The story was that
he made a sacrifice to the gods without observing a preparatory fast,
for which he was punished by being changed into a dog. He then invoked
the god of death to deliver him, which attempt to evade a just
punishment so enraged the divinities that they immersed the world in
water.[139-1]

During a storm on our northern lakes the Indians think no offering so
likely to appease the angry water god who is raising the tempest as a
dog. Therefore they hasten to tie the feet of one and toss him
overboard.[139-2] One meets constantly in their tales and superstitions
the mysterious powers of the animals, and the distinguished actions he
has at times performed bear usually a close parallelism to those
attributed to water and the moon.

Hunger and thirst were thus alleviated by water. Cold remained, and
against this _fire_ was the shield. It gives man light in darkness and
warmth in winter; it shows him his friends and warns him of his foes;
the flames point toward heaven and the smoke makes the clouds. Around it
social life begins. For his home and his hearth the savage has but one
word, and what of tender emotion his breast can feel, is linked to the
circle that gathers around his fire. The council fire, the camp fire,
and the war fire, are so