Our first tangible evidences of mythological thinking are
from the period of Neanderthal Man, which endured from ca. 250,000 to ca.
50,000 B.C.; and these comprise, first, burials with food supplies, grave
gear, tools, sacrificed animals, and the like; and second, a number of chapels
in high_mountain caves, where cave_bear skulls, ceremonially disposed in
symbolic settings, have been preserved. The burials suggest the idea, if not
exactly of immortality, then at least of some kind of life to come; and the
almost inaccessible high_mountain bear_skull sanctuaries surely represent a
cult in honor of that great, upright, manlike, hairy personage, the bear. The
bear is still revered by the hunting and fishing peoples of the far North,
both in Europe and Siberia and among our North American Indian tribes; and we
have reports of a number among whom the heads and skulls of the honored beasts
are preserved very much as in those early Neanderthal caves.
Particularly instructive and well reported is the instance
of bear cult of the Ainu of Japan, a Caucasoid race that entered and settled
Japan centuries earlier than the Mongoloid Japanese, and are confined today to
the northern islands, Hokkaido and Sakhalin--the latter now, of course, in
Russian hands. These curious people have the sensible idea that this
world is more attractive than the next, and that godly beings residing in that
other, consequently, are inclined to come pay us visits. They arrive in the
shapes of animals, but, once they have donned their animal uniforms, are
unable to remove them. They therefore cannot return home without human help.
And so the Ainu do help--by killing them, removing and eating the uniforms,
and ceremonially bidding the release visitors bon voyage.
We have a number of detailed accounts of the ceremonials,
and even now one may have the good fortune to witness such an occasion. The
bears are taken when still cubs and are raised as pets of the captor's family,
affectionately nursed by the womenfolk and allowed to tumble about with the
youngsters. When they have become older and a little too rough, however, they
are kept confined in a cage, and when the little guest is about four years
old, the time arrives for him to be sent home. The head of the household in
which he has been living will prepare him for the occasion by advising him
that although he may find the festivities a bit harsh, they are unavoidably so
and kindly intended. "Little divinity," the caged little fellow will
be told in a public speech, "we are about to send you home, and in case
you have never experience one of these ceremonies before, you must know that
it has to be this way. We want you to go home and tell your parents how well
you have been treated here on earth. And if you have enjoyed your life among
us and would like to do us the honor of coming to visit again, we in turn
shall do you the honor of arranging for another bear ceremony of this
kind." The little fellow is quickly and skillfully dispatched. His hide
is removed with head and paws attached and arranged upon a rack to look alive.
A banquet is then prepared, of which the main dish is a chunky stew of his own
meat, a lavish bowl of which is placed beneath his snout for his own last
supper on earth; after which, with a number of farewell presents to take
along, he is supposed to go happily home.
Now a leading theme, to which I would call attention here,
is that of the invitation to the bear to return to earth. This implies that in
the Ainu view there is no such thing as death. And we find the same thought
expressed in the final instructions delivered to the departed in the Ainu
rites of burial. The dead are not to come back as haunts or possessing
spirits, but only by the proper natural course, as babies. Moreover, since
death alone would be no punishment for an Ainu, their extreme sentence for
serious crimes is death by torture.
A second essential idea is that of the bear as a divine
visitor whose animal body has to be "broken" (as they say) to
release him for return to his other-worldly home. Many edible plants, as well as
hunted beasts, are believed to be visitors of this kind; so that the Ainu,
killing and eating them, are doing them no harm, but actually a favor. There
is here an obvious psychological defense against the guilt feelings and fears
of revenge of a primitive hunting and fishing folk whose whole existence hangs
upon acts of continual merciless killing. The murdered beasts and consumed
plants are thought of as willing victims; so that gratitude, not malice, must
be the response of their liberated spirits to the "breaking and
eating" of their merely provisional material bodies.