Ancient Varieties. Ancient ware, dug from ruins and graves, is exceedingly rare and commands a high price. There are three distinguishable varieties, among others, that denote comparative age. The earliest type is of the corrugated ware, in which the thumb and finger marks, denoting the pressure of the coils, one upon another, are clearly in evidence. Some pottery was made in basket matrices, and marks of the basket are clearly outlined upon the outside of the vessels so made.

The second type is the plain black and white ware, and the third is the red ware painted with black designs.

Both ancient and modern ware, the latter in large variety, may be seen and purchased at the Hopi House.

Navaho Silverware. Of equal interest is the making of silverware by the Navaho peshlikai, or silversmith, whose primitive forge is in the first room entered at the Hopi House.

Fondness for Silver. The innate desire of a primitive people for personal adornment early led the pueblo Indians to a use of metal. When the Spaniards and Mexicans came among them, the iron, bra.s.s and copper of the conquerors were soon added to the dried seeds, sh.e.l.l beads, pieces of turquoise and coral they had hitherto used. But silver has ever been their favorite metallic ornament. Long ago they formed an ideal in the Spanish don or Mexican vaquero, with his personal apparel adorned with silver, his horse's bridle trapped out with silver belts, buckles and b.u.t.tons, and his saddle and its equipment studded with silver nails and other fanciful expressions of adornment. From the Mexican and the pueblo Indian he rapidly picked up the necessary knowledge, and practice soon gave the skill to fashion the silver into every desired shape.

Navahos Used Silver Three Centuries Ago. Cushing contends that the Zunis knew how to smelt metals before the Spanish conquest, but the statement is strongly disputed. There can be no question, however, but that the large use of silver ornaments by both pueblo and Navaho Indians dates from three hundred and fifty years ago, after Coronado's conquistadores had found out that this was no land of gold and precious metals, as was Peru.

In almost every pueblo of Arizona and New Mexico, and in many a Navaho hogan, one may find the primitive silversmith at work. There is no silversmith's shop, but generally in a corner of the quaint pueblo house, or in an adjunct to the Navaho hogan, the worker quietly pursues his important avocation; for in a community whose members have no other metallic arts, the silversmith is an important man, and sees to it that his profession is regarded with the high dignity it deserves.

Method of Working. With a rude mud forge,--the bellows of which, though primitive, is as ingenious as any patent bellows invented,--a hammer, a piece of railroad steel for an anvil, a three-cornered file, one or two punches, a crucible which he understands how to make as well as the best metallurgist in the land, and a bit of solder, he goes to work. Sometimes he runs his melted Mexican dollars into primitive moulds; again he hammers the metal into the shape he requires. He creates rings, some of them containing rude pieces of turquoise, garnet, etc., well designed bracelets, belt-disks, large and small silver b.u.t.tons (some of which are admirably adapted for belt-buckles), earrings, necklaces, crosses, beads, bangles, clasps of silver for bridles, etc.

Ornaments and jewelry. The two most cherished objects are the waist-belt and the necklace, though far more rings and bracelets are to be found. But this is on account of the great expense of the former. The waist belts generally consist of eight moulded plates, either circular or oval, with filleted border and scalloped edges, each plate weighing from two to four ounces. These are punctured in the center, or a small band is soldered to the back, to admit of their being threaded upon a long and narrow belt of leather, the ends of which are fastened with a buckle. Both men and women wear these, and they are highly prized as ornaments by both s.e.xes. The necklaces are equally in vogue, the designs being princ.i.p.ally hollow beads, crosses, and ornaments representing pomegranate blossoms. The silver bridle is also an object of great esteem. It is made of curiously designed, heavy clasps of silver, fastened upon leather, with numberless b.u.t.tons shaped from coins. Many of these weigh not less than fifteen ounces, and some as high as forty, hence their value can be readily estimated.

CHAPTER XIX. The Hopis And Their Snake Dance

A Hopi Religious Rite. Interesting among Indians, because of their unique houses on the summits of high mesas, reached only by precipitous trails, the Hopi of northern Arizona always have possessed peculiar fascination on account of their thrilling religious rite, known as the Snake Dance, an account of which follows.*

* This Sacred Dance and the life of the Hopi Indians is more fully set out in the author's larger work "The Indians of the Painted Desert Region".

The Painted Desert. The region they live in, named the Province of Tusayan by the Spanish conquistadores, three hundred and fifty years ago, is a region of color. The rocks of which the mesas are built, the sand of the desert, the peculiarly carved b.u.t.tes which abound on every hand, are all strikingly colored, with such a variety of hues and tints that one does not wonder at the name--the Painted Desert--which is applied to the country through which we must travel to reach Hopiland.

A Saddle Trip from El Tovar. The traveler who wishes to visit this fascinating and unique region can arrange for full equipment at El Tovar.

The trip will be a saddle one and all outfits will have to be transported on pack burros.

The Old Hopi Trail. The road followed is practically the line of the old Hopi trail. On the way out, the interested traveler may visit Grand View Point and Hotel, Hance's Old Camp and Trail, the Red Canyon Trail, Moran's, and all the other salient points at the eastern end of the Grand Canyon.

Especially should he stand on faraway Navaho Point, or Desert View. This is the last of the promontories before the rim of the Canyon turns sharply to the north. Below it, a vast amphitheatre is opened out with more precipitous walls than at any other part of the Canyon. The sweep of the river, the mouth of Marble Canyon, the superlative richness of coloring at this point, combined with the unequalled views of the Painted Desert, which lies to the right, or east, afford a place of varied delight, scarce found elsewhere on the whole Canyon rim.

Hopi Cornfields. Crossing the Little Colorado River at the Tanner Crossing, Moenkopi is visited, and then a day's ride of forty miles over the Painted Desert brings one to the cornfields of the Hopi, as properly they should be called. For years, they have been known as the Moki, a term of reproach applied in derision by the Navahos. These cornfields are a wonderful monument to the thrift of the Hopi. White men would have starved to death in the place, before they would have dreamed of planting corn in such an inhospitable-looking soil. No springs or streams sufficient to irrigate with, unversed in digging wells and pumping water to the surface, one would have thought an ignorant Indian would have looked elsewhere before planting his corn in such a place. But the Indian is not so ignorant. His life, from the cradle to the grave, is one of close observation. His very existence depends upon its exercise. He soon discovered, therefore, that there was a natural subsoil irrigation in certain parts of this desert, where his corn would grow. And grow it does, most wonderfully. Sometimes water is scarce; then the crop decreases, but generally a good crop may be relied upon. To hoe his cornfield, a Hopi will often run over the desert forty, fifty, sixty, and even eighty miles in a day. Sometimes, when the field is near by, the Hopi will ride on his burro. These cunning creatures are almost a necessity of Indian life. The streets would seem lonely without them. It will be noticed occasionally that one of these animals has lost part of his left ear. This is proof that he is possessed of kleptomaniac proclivities.

If a burro is found stealing corn, he is sentenced to have part of his ear cut off.

Oraibi. On one of these burros we ride up the steep trail that brings us to the westernmost village of the Hopi, Oraibi. It is perched high on the mesa top, several hundred feet above the valley, and the various trails are steep and rugged. Some of them are sheer climbs, up which no animal other than man can go. There are six other villages, three of them ten miles, and the other three about twenty miles, to the east of Oraibi. They, also, are perched upon high mesas, which thrust themselves, like long fingers, into the sandy desert. On the middle mesa are Shungopavi, Mashongnovi and Shipaulovi, while on the eastern mesa are Walpi, Sich.o.m.ovi and Hano.

Sandstone Houses. All the houses are built of rude pieces of sandstone, cemented with mud. Steps are made of larger slabs of stone, and often the only means of access is by long ladders, the poles of which tower high above the buildings, and give a singularly picturesque aspect to the village. In the olden days, there were neither doors nor windows in the first story of the houses. They were built so purposely, since they must serve for fortresses as well as homes.

Hopi Wafer. Bread. One is often likely to find a woman engaged in making piki. Piki is a wafer bread, peculiar to the Hopis. It is finer than the finest tortilla of the Mexican, or oatcake of the Scotch. No biscuit maker in America or England can make a cracker one-half so thin. The thinnest cracker is thick compared with piki, and yet the Hopi make it with marvelous dexterity. Cornmeal batter in a crude earthenware bowl, is the material; a smooth, flat stone, under which a brisk fire is kept burning, is the instrument; and the woman's quick fingers, spreading a thin layer of the batter over the stone, perform the operation. It looks so easy. A lady of one of my parties tried it once, and failed. My cook, a stalwart Kansas City man, knew he would not fail. And he didn't. He had four of the best-blistered fingers I have seen in a long time. But the Hopi woman merely greases the stone, dips her fingers into the batter, carries them lightly and carelessly over the heated surfaces, and, in a moment, strips the already baked sheet from the stone. When several are baked, she folds them over and over until they are about the size of an elongated shredded wheat biscuit.

Hopi Women as Builders. It is a reversal of our conception of things to see the "gentler s.e.x " engaged in building a house, as is often the case in Hopiland. Yet to the Hopi there is nothing strange in this scene, for the woman, and not the man, is the owner of the house. Hence, the Hopi reasons, why should she not build it? It is hers, so let her make it; and she does.

She uses no spirit-level, no plumb line, no square, no saw, and yet she makes a creditable house, fairly square and plumb, warm and cosy in winter, and cool and comfortable in summer. The mud of the winter's watercourses is used as mortar, and the pieces of disintegrated sandstone, that abound on the mesa tops, form the building material.

Men Who Weave and Knit. In accordance with Hopi logic, the ant.i.thesis of the woman house-builders is to be seen daily in the men who are engaged in weaving the women's garments; men, also, knit the stockings, and follow other so-called feminine occupations. There is nothing incongruous in these things to them. They are part of "the way of the old," handed down to them by their forefathers.

Hopi Method of Weaving. To watch a weaver at work is to acquire a new respect for Indians. As one sees the crude, home-made appliances, and then watches the yarn climb up, thread by thread, battened down by hand so that the garment will hold water, until the article is finished, artistically designed, and perfectly fitted for its required purpose, he comes to the conclusion that the Hopi weaver, at least, is a skilled artificer.

Hopi Rituals. The Hopi are a remarkably religious people. I question whether there is to be found elsewhere in the world so ritualistic a people as they are. They have ceremonies--all of religious character for every month of the year, and some of them require from eight to sixteen days for their observance. Their dances are propitiations of the G.o.ds they worship, and whose aid they implore. One of the most noted and world-renowned of their ceremonies is the Snake Dance, and I wish to conclude this chapter with a brief description of this wonderful act, which I have now witnessed thirteen separate times. It has been woefully misrepresented by careless writers.

The whole ceremony is conducted with a dignity and solemnity that is not surpa.s.sed by any Christian observance.

Hopi Mythology Regarding Snake Dance. It is not a dance, in our sense of the word. It is a prayer for rain, and of thanksgiving for the blessings of harvest. Neither is it an act of snake worship. According to Hopi mythology, the snake and antelope clans, or families, are descended from the union of Tiyo and his brother with two sisters, daughters of the snake mother,--Tiyo being the paternal Ancestor of the Snake Clan, and his brother of the Antelope Clan. The story of Tiyo's visit, using a sealed-up hollow pinion log as a boat, and sailing down the Colorado river through "

shipapu" to the underworld, is one of the most interesting pieces of aboriginal folk-lore. It appears elsewhere,* and forms the burden of the sixteen dramatic songs sung in the secrecy of the underground ceremonial kivas of the snake and antelope clans, in the nine days of preliminary ceremonial, which culminate in the open-air public dance.

* See Indians of the Pointed Desert Region.

Antelope Race and Corn Scramble. There are two other ceremonies connected with the Snake Dance that may be witnessed by all who like. These are the antelope race and the corn scramble. The former takes place on the morning of the eighth day before sunrise. Though apparently a mere test of athletic ability, it is in reality a religious ceremonial. For centuries, the Hopi lived surrounded by warlike people who preyed upon them. Being few in number, living in a desert land, and beset by murderous marauders, fleetness of foot and great "staying" powers while running over the long trails of the sandy deserts became an essential condition of national preservation. Hence the priests made the cultivation of the bodily powers a matter of religion. Every youth was compelled to exercise to the utmost.

The result is a fine athletic development. Each year many great races are run, and two of the chief of these are at the Snake Dance, there being a race on both the eighth and ninth mornings.

At the end of that fierce race across the hot sands and up the steep mesa, the winner exultantly stands before the chief priests. The lightning bearer then throws the zigzag symbols over him, and rain clouds are pictured at his feet. Then he is hurried on to the antelope kiva, where another priest gives to him the sacred gourd full of water and a sack full of sacred meal, with certain ceremonial prayer sticks, which, placed and used in his cornfield, ensure to him an extra fine crop at the next harvest.

In the meantime, a number of young men and boys have followed the rest of the racers, bearing in their hands cornstalks, melon vines and fruit. As soon as they reach the level mesa top, the women and girls dart upon them, and a most good-natured but exciting scuffle takes place. For five to ten minutes this scramble lasts, and when every corn or vine carrier is rid of his gifts, the play is at an end, and all retire to await the great event of the whole ceremony,--the open-air dance, when the deadly reptiles are carried in the mouths of the priests.

Preparation for Snake Dance. At noon a secret ceremony takes place in the dark recesses of the kiva, viz.: the washing of the elder brothers (as the snakes are called), which I have fully described in "The Indians of the Painted Desert Region." When the afternoon shadows lengthen, every available place in the dance plaza is speedily occupied by the villagers and visitors, who wait the march of the antelope priests. The photographers present must keep within a certain line.

Arrival of Snake Priests. After circling in front of the kisi (a cottonwood bower in which the snakes are kept) the antelope priests line up with their faces fronting from the kisi. There they sing and dance awhile, waiting for the snake priests. These come from their kiva to the south of the dance plaza, and, as they arrive, all sounds are hushed and all attention concentrated upon them. They circle before the kisi, and then line up facing the antelope priests.

Appearance of Priests. Some people say they are hideous; others have said, with me, that the sight is sublime. If one looks merely at the half-nude bodies, made repulsive by a coating of reddish black paint, with dabs of whitewash in several places, at their faces painted with the reddish black stuff, at the strings of white beads around their necks, and the snake whips in their hands, then indeed it is easy to say that they are hideous.

But if one looks at their faces, he will see intense earnestness, deep solemnity, profound dignity, and unflinching belief in the necessity for and power of the prayer about to be offered. Then, too, with what simple, trustful bravery they handle the snakes, when that part of the ceremony comes! They know the danger; no one more so. Indeed, if a priest is afraid, he is not allowed to partic.i.p.ate. Not only would his fear prevent his own proper worship, but it would interfere with that of his comrades.

Variety of Snakes. There were few snakes at Oraibi, the year I last saw the dance there, but those they had were active and vicious. There were several rattlers, some red racers, and a few bull snakes. The light was good, and several first-cla.s.s photographs were made which actually show the snakes in the mouths of the priests. At the Snake Dance in the other villages, the priest swings the snake out of his mouth, and allows it to fall. Here, I noticed that every snake was gently placed upon the ground by the priest who had been carrying it in his mouth. The antelope men never leave their line, during the handling of the snakes. They continue to sing during the whole performance.

Purification of Priests. While waiting for the priests to return, after taking the snakes into the valley, I learned of several slight changes, owing to changed circ.u.mstances. The rain had made numerous small pools at the top of the mesa. The priests, in returning, divested themselves of all their ceremonial paraphernalia, and washed the paint from their bodies, before returning to the kiva and drinking the emetic. Generally, they have gone to their homes at Oraibi or at Walpi, have had the women bring water to the west side of the mesa, and there washed themselves.

CHAPTER XX. An Historic Trail Across The Grand Canyon Country

The Old Hopi Trail. One of the most noted aboriginal trails in the western United States, is the old Hopi (generally called Moki) trail, leading from the seven villages of the Hopi and their agricultural offshoot, Moenkopi, to the Canyon of the Havasupais. This was the trail followed by Lieut.

Frank Hamilton Cushing--the noted ethnologist when he visited these Kuhne kiwes while he was living at the interesting pueblo of Zuni, in New Mexico.

I have made the whole trip from Hopiland to the Havasupais and back twice, and have ridden for many years over small portions of the trail. It is intimately connected with the history of two of the people seen most at the Canyon. According to one of the Havasupai legends, the Hopis and Havasupais are descended from twin brothers. Hence they have always been friendly and have traded continuously the products of their own manufacture. The Hopis exchange their horses, sheep, and burros, laden with blankets, pottery and silverware, for buckskin, Havasupai baskets (which they prize very highly), dried peaches, etc.

Originally this was a foot trail; then horses, burros and mules were used; and now, in some portions of its distance, notably from Moenkopi to Oraibi, it is used for wagons.

A Six Day Journey. Let us leave the home of the Havasupais and go on a visit to the Hopis. Our trip into Havasu Canyon is described in another chapter. I discussed the matter with several of the leading Havasupais, and they told me that the trip will be arduous and long. How long? Five, six days!

A Side Trail. But before starting I decided to see one of the outlets to Havasu Canyon, that used to be a part of the old trail, and that was used as an inlet when General Crook and his soldiers came there. The trail is called after a spring bearing the name Pack-a-tha-true-ye-ba. Never did I have such a sense of the maze of canyons contained in this system of canyons as on that trip. My guide was Sinyela, one of the most intelligent Indians of the whole tribe. We left the Havasupai village early one morning, each riding an Indian pony, with all the provisions we thought we should need on our saddles. After awhile, we entered a side canyon I had never before explored. During the whole of that day we toiled, riding as hard as we could over the almost trackless canyon floor; trailing through deep sand; climbing over ma.s.ses of boulders that freshets or cloud-bursts had. piled between the walls; forcing our way through dense willows; scratched by thickets of mesquites. Again and again in the walls were seen cliff-dwellings and corn storage houses. The heat was intense, and radiated from the precipitous walls on either side.

The Camp at Night. When night came, we ate our frugal meal, our horses standing by waiting to be hobbled and turned loose. For beds, we had the nearest layer of sand we could find, with our saddles for pillows.

Suffering from Thirst. Early in the morning we started again, winding and curving with the course of the Canyon. For nearly two days we had been without fresh water, and the little we had brought in our wicker-woven, pinion-gum-covered esuwas had to suffice for our needs. Suddenly we entered a vast amphitheatre, with a rude arch at the end. It was flower-covered, with occasional trees, and here, hidden from any but the view of an Indian, was found a tiny spring of coolest, purest water. How we enjoyed it!

A Dangerous Slope. On the third day, we came to the place where the soldiers descended from the plateau above into the depths of the Canyon.

There was no well-defined trail, and the slope was steep enough to make one's flesh creep. The site was marked with disaster. Here a pack mule had slipped, fallen, and been dashed to pieces; there a man had fallen and been killed. It was a difficult descent, but nerve and pluck had accomplished it. Beyond was the Pack-a-tha-true-ye-ba Spring, and after seeing its water I determined that we must return.