witches and now they must get it back. Two of the doctors smear
themselves with ashes and, with stone knives in their hands, climb out
of the kiva. Soon the people hear sounds of fighting down on the trash
pile in front of the cave. There are loud cries and the sounds of
struggling, and blows being struck. Then all is quiet and other doctors
go out to bring the two back. One of the doctors is unconscious and must
be carried into the kiva and both show the marks of a furious struggle.
But they have recovered the patient's heart--it is a little ball of
rags. When the ball is cut open, a grain of corn is found in the center
and this is given to the patient to swallow. Now that he has recovered
his heart he will soon be well.
The ceremony is over and as the patient returns to his home the doctors
put away their ceremonial equipment. Soon the women of the patient's
family bring food which they have prepared and the medicine men have a
fine feast. Baskets of corn meal are also brought to the medicine men in
payment for the cure which they have effected.
At any time of the year there may be sickness in Cliff Palace but there
is always the greatest amount in the winter. Seldom during the cold
season are the people entirely free from it. The medicine men carry out
the prescribed ceremonies, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. When
they effect a cure there is rejoicing but when they fail there is
sadness in the city and the relatives of the unfortunate person are
plunged into mourning.
[Illustration: Mummy of a Basket Maker woman]
[Illustration: Bodies were usually buried in a folded position]
Very soon after death comes preparations are made for the burial. The
body is bathed and the hair is washed. The arms are folded across the
chest and tied together to hold them in position. The legs are folded up
against the body. Around the tightly-flexed body is wrapped a cotton
blanket, then a large feather blanket. Finally the bundle is wrapped in
a piece of matting and is ready for burial.
There is no cemetery and the burial may be made anywhere. When the
weather is good the bodies may be buried out on the mesa top or anywhere
in the canyon. Sometimes they are placed in crevices in the cliffs or in
holes under large boulders. During the winter, when the ground is frozen
and covered with snow, graves are often dug in the great trash pile in
front of the cave. For generations the people have dumped their ashes
and refuse there and it is not difficult to dig a grave in the soft,
ashy material.
Occasionally death comes when a severe storm is raging outside the cave.
Rather than face the storm the men of a burial party sometimes seal a
body in an empty house or bury it in the trash room in the rear of the
cave. The cave roof is too low for houses in that space so the long, low
room is used as a trash room and turkey roost. When a body is buried
there it is surrounded by perfectly dry materials such as ashes, dust,
corn cobs, corn tassels and turkey droppings. The chill of winter
prevents decay and the body begins to dry out. Soon all moisture is gone
and only the bones and dried tissues remain. If no moisture reaches it,
the dry, mummy-like body will remain unchanged for centuries.
After the grave is dug the tightly-wrapped body is placed in it. Food
and water are placed in the grave, along with the personal possessions
of the deceased; weapons, tools, jewelry and other articles which the
spirit of the dead person will need in the afterworld. After the grave
is filled with earth and rocks the members of the burial party return to
their homes and purify themselves by washing their hair, vomiting and
fumigating their clothing in smoke.
The spirit of the deceased does not leave the body for four days so each
morning relatives place food and water on the grave. At sunrise on the
fourth morning the spirit leaves the body and journeys back through
Sipapu, into the Mother Earth, where the dead live in another world much
like this one. As soon as the spirit is gone the relatives purify
themselves and from this time on try not to speak of, or think of the
dead person again. Grieving may cause sickness so the dead are best
forgotten.
The winter passes slowly. For those who are strong and active it has no
terrors although it may cause a certain amount of discomfort. For those
who are weak and sick it becomes an ordeal. At no time during the winter
is Cliff Palace free from sickness and suffering and the spirits of the
people are often low. In January the cold becomes more intense. Scores
of fires burn brightly in the great cave as the people attempt to drive
out the cold. Some nights the temperature falls very close to zero. High
overhead hangs a brilliant white moon and the snowy canyon is almost as
light as day. From the cliff near the great ceremonial building comes
the wail of a coyote: from the mesa top comes the mournful hoot of an
owl. The cave is quiet except for low chanting in some of the kivas and
the snoring of old men. Sometimes a baby whimpers or a sick person
groans. Now and then a muffled scream echoes through the cave as an aged
sufferer cries out from the agony of arthritis or an abscessed tooth.
There is little travel during the coldest periods. The men forego their
hunting and visiting and everyone stays close to the sheltering cave
with the single idea of keeping warm and well. The city is quieter now:
there is none of the boisterous gaiety that was so pronounced during the
other seasons.
The men spend most of their time in the kivas while the women and
children gather around the fires in the courtyards. The turkeys roost in
the back of the cave at night and come out in the daytime to wander
about the courts and roof-tops and fight with the dogs for scraps of
food that are thrown to them. During periods when there is deep snow in
the canyon, the turkeys are fed small amounts of the precious corn but
in late winter they grow thin and bedraggled. When they are not roaming
about the city searching for food they sit in quiet rows on the
housetops, feathers fluffed against the cold. The turkeys are highly
prized, both for their meat and for their feathers, but they lead a
miserable existence. They do not thrive in the cold shadowy cave and the
flocks usually are not large. Not only are they tormented by children
and dogs but regularly they suffer the indignity of having their
feathers plucked for use in ceremonies and in the manufacture of feather
blankets.
As the end of winter draws near the food becomes more monotonous. Many
of the tastier foods are gone: the supplies of pinon nuts, dried fruits,
roots, squash and dried berries are completely exhausted. Now each meal
consists of meat, corn bread and beans. Sometimes the meat is fresh but
usually it is meat that was dried last fall. This meat is as hard as
rawhide and must be pounded with stones and thoroughly cooked before it
can be eaten. In order to gain variety the women bake the corn bread in
every possible way and corn meal, meat and beans are combined in
numerous forms. Still the food is monotonous and everyone longs for
something green.
In February the snows become heavy and wet and in the latter part of the
month there is rain. Even though the rain does not come into the cave
everything becomes damp. The days are getting warmer now and as a result
a foul odor hangs over the city.
At any time of the year a strong odor of decaying animal and vegetable
matter and human offal fills the cave. Out in front is the great trash
pile and in the rear is the trash room where the turkeys roost and where
some of the dead are buried. In addition to this, the people have no
idea of personal sanitation. In the warmer seasons they usually step
outside the cave but in the winter they merely step back into the turkey
roost or out on the front terraces.
Because of this there is always a heavy odor about the city. In the
summer it is not so bad for the women often sweep out the houses and
courts and throw the trash out in front of the cave where the hot sun
drys out the waste materials. In the winter there is less of this
cleaning and the trash and filth accumulate. The dampness in the air
causes mould and mustiness and when the warm wet days of late winter
come the air is foul with the odor of decaying matter.
The people do not notice this odor. Their first breath of life was like
that and they merely think it is the way air smells.
As the end of winter draws near the cold grows less intense. There are
still occasional snowstorms but they are warm and wet and melt rapidly.
The mesas are soggy with mud and small streams of water trickle over the
cliffs as the snow disappears. The air is warm and balmy: during the
middle of the day it is often hot. Grass turns green in the sheltered
spots and the buds on the shrubs begin to swell. Chipmunks and squirrels
come out of hibernation to greet the spring.
The people of Cliff Palace have been noting all of these signs and there
is a stir of activity in the city as they throw off the cloak of winter.
It was this promise of spring that helped them through. Sometimes they
have been cold and there has been sickness and death. At times there has
been a heavy pall of sadness over the city. Now all that is over for
spring is in the air.
The people are happy and smiling as they bustle about preparing for the
work that is ahead. The men think of their farms, the women think of
making pottery, repairing and building houses, and arranging marriages.
The children, turkeys and dogs think of nothing: they merely dash out of
the shadowy cave into the warm spring sunshine.
Our year with the people of Cliff Palace has ended. Spring, summer,
autumn and winter have passed. Now spring has arrived to start the
eternal cycle all over again.
8
THE END OF THE STORY
The year we have just spent with the people of Cliff Palace was a normal
year for all of the people of the Mesa Verde. We have seen the daily
events in one cliff dwelling and we may feel sure that similar events
were taking place in each of the many hundreds of cliff dwellings on the
great mesa.
There was not a single occurrence that made it any different from the
countless other normal years they experienced. It did not remain long in
their memories for it was just one more year when all of the forces of
nature worked in perfect harmony. There was an abundance of snow and
rain, and food was plentiful. There were no catastrophes or memorable
events.
Good years, such as that one, were soon forgotten. The years they
remembered were those that brought sadness or disaster. Talkative old
men long remembered the years of terrific drouth or the year the crops
were destroyed by forest fires. They did not soon forget the evil summer
when almost all of the babies died of a strange malady, and for
centuries the storytellers recalled the year when a monster swallowed
the sun completely for a few minutes. Those were the unusual years and
they served as mile posts. Time was measured from them.
The years of catastrophe did not come often. It was only occasionally
that the crops failed and when they did the people were prepared for it.
A thousand years of farming in the Mesa Verde had taught them that every
few years they must expect a dry year without a harvest. Often they were
able to predict such a season in advance. If the heavy snows of December
and January and February failed to come, the men began to worry. Then if
the spring rains failed to come, the farmers became quite sure that the
harvests would be poor. Months in advance they began to prepare for the
lean year that faced them.
Food was measured out sparingly: not a grain of corn or a pinch of meal
was wasted. The women searched endlessly for wild plant foods and the
men went hunting day after day. By living more on meat and wild plants
they were able to conserve the stores of corn and beans. Water supplies
were built up and they tried to enter the summer season with every
available drop stored in their jars and in the pools in the canyon. New
springs were developed and in extreme cases the women even walked four
miles down the canyon to the Mancos River for water.
By skillfully adjusting themselves to conditions the people were able to
survive a year of drouth with little difficulty. A second year of crop
failure was very serious but still it could be managed and occasionally
during their occupancy of the Mesa Verde they had even survived periods
of drouth that lasted several years. Such an ordeal brought suffering
and hardship: it meant death for many of the weaker people. But still it
could be endured.
So it was that when drouth settled down upon the Mesa Verde in the year
1276 A.D., the people thought nothing of it. They had just enjoyed
several good years and they worried little when the crops failed. They
took the usual precautions and the priests assured them that the next
year would be normal again. But the drouth did not break. Year after
year it continued. A generation passed and still the drouth did not end.
The rings of trees which grew at that time show that the drouth
continued for twenty-four years. From 1276, through 1299, rainfall was
below normal in the Mesa Verde and surrounding regions. Many of the
years were unbelievably dry. Some were only moderately dry and a few
were almost normal. But throughout the long period, rainfall was far
below average. Winter snows were light and failed to restore the soil
moisture. Summer rains were often completely lacking. Each year the soil
lost more of its moisture and only the hardiest plants were able to
survive. During the entire period there probably was not a harvest
worthy of the name.
The drouth was the worst ever known in the Southwest and its effect on
the people of the Mesa Verde was tragic. Year after year the crops
withered in the fields. Wild food plants also died or failed to
reproduce. The larger game animals drifted off to the mountains and the
smaller animals diminished in numbers. In their search for food the
women scoured the mesas until there was not an edible plant left. The
men hunted far and wide with less and less luck. Still the drouth
continued. Water supplies dwindled. During the winter the pools in the
canyon failed to fill and the lack of moisture caused the springs to
become mere trickles. It was impossible to wring water from the earth
when no water was there.
The people were faced with three terrors; the lack of food, the lack of
water, and the wrath of the gods. The first two actually existed; the
last existed only in their minds. Consequently, it was the worst of all.
Added to their tragic need of food and water was the horrible fear that
their gods had deserted them.
How the priests must have labored. Every ceremony, every trick they knew
was repeated time after time as the drouth progressed. The cliff
dwellings echoed with the chants and Sun Temple, the great ceremonial
building, must have been the scene of countless super-ceremonials as the
priests of the various villages threw their combined strength into the
fight.
Still the drouth continued!
Throughout the Mesa Verde there was much death from starvation and
disease. Food and water were practically exhausted. The tragic moment
came when they were forced to eat the seed corn. This was the last
resort: it could be fatal to farmers. Only when death faced them did
they sacrifice the precious seed for there could never be another crop
unless they were fortunate enough to find other people with surplus
supplies. The result was inevitable. Since the drouth would not end the
people could only drift away, hoping to find better conditions
elsewhere. It was their only chance of survival.
The migration from the Mesa Verde must have taken place gradually. As a
matter of fact, there are indications that the migrations began even
before the drouth came. At an earlier date vast areas around the Mesa
Verde were occupied by members of the same tribe. Some time before 1200
A.D., however, the population began to dwindle and by the time the
drouth came almost all of the area, except the Mesa Verde, was deserted.
In all probability, these early migrations were caused by pressure from
an enemy tribe for there is much to indicate that the people were in
trouble. Certainly the population was dwindling long before the great
drouth began. The identity of the enemy is not definitely known. It has
been suggested that the Apaches may have entered the region at that
time, or possibly the early Utes. No definite evidence of the enemy
people has been found but their pressure is indicated by their effect
upon the peaceful farming Indians.
The migration from the Mesa Verde probably took place gradually;
certainly there was no mass movement. As the drouth continued small
groups drifted off in search of better conditions. All of the people of
a small village may have moved together but the larger towns must have
broken up gradually. Cliff Palace and other large cliff dwellings
probably were deserted a clan at a time. As conditions became more
desperate the people quarreled over the dwindling supplies. There must
have been many cases of actual violence as frenzied men sought to obtain
food and water for their starving families. Dissatisfaction and
discontent mounted rapidly and the once happy towns were abandoned by
their people as clan after clan took to the trail in search of new
homes.
Before the twenty-four year drouth was over, the Mesa Verde was entirely
deserted and there is no evidence that any of the people ever returned.
Since that tragic time the cliff dwellings have been empty and silent as
they have fought against the heavy, leveling hand of time.
When the people left the Mesa Verde their troubles were not over. The
drouth was felt all over the Southwest and life was possible only in the
most favorable spots. Added to the misfortunes of the drifting people
was the increased activity of the nomadic Indians for they, too,
suffered from the drouth. It is possible that their increased activities
hastened the flight from the Mesa Verde for they must have preyed upon
the farming peoples during the troubled times.
Although large numbers perished before and during the migration, many of
the Mesa Verde Indians did survive. The major migration seems to have
been to the southeast and finally the people settled in the Rio Grande
Valley. One group crossed the river and for a time lived in the
Gallisteo Basin, a short distance southeast of the present city of Santa
Fe, New Mexico. After a time this area was deserted and the people
mingled with other Pueblo Indians along the Rio Grande. As they merged
with the others they gradually lost their identity as Mesa Verde people.
During the great drouth the population of the Southwest was diminished
and many regions were abandoned forever by the Pueblo Indians. When the
drouth finally ended the survivors were concentrated in the most
favorable spots where there were the best supplies of water, the finest
farming lands or good natural defenses against the nomadic Indians.
In some regions they prospered for a time but never again did they reach
the high level they had attained before the great drouth. Perhaps the
drouth caused a dry rot to set in and the fortunes of the Pueblo people
waned. When Coronado came there were less than eighty pueblos: today
there are less than thirty.
The people of these present-day pueblos are the descendants of scores of
thousands of Pueblo Indians who once lived in the Southwest. In their
veins, greatly thinned by the centuries, flows the blood of the ancient
people of the Mesa Verde.
PART TWO
The Archeological Background
9
ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN INDIAN
The story of the Mesa Verde really had its beginning many thousands of
years ago in a distant land. It began when the first ancient Asiatic
stepped across from Siberia and became the First American. Who he was
and exactly when it happened we shall never know, but it was the
important first step in a long chain of events which led to the
occupation of the Mesa Verde by Pueblo Indians.
There seems to be little doubt that the early inhabitants of North and
South America came from Asia by that northern route. It is the only
route by which men, traveling without artificial means of
transportation, could have reached these western continents. Not a
single insurmountable barrier, not a single impossibility lay in the
path of those ancient men as they drifted with the line of least
resistance. From the northwest, America was discovered and populated.
Men first came into being somewhere in the Old World. From this point of
beginning they spread slowly over the face of the earth. In all
directions the ancient men traveled, always on foot, always without a
goal. After a time Europe, Africa and Asia were populated, but the
Americas remained without men. Surrounded by vast areas of water, except
at one point, the Americas were the last great land bodies to be
discovered.
Finally, the day of discovery arrived. For countless centuries groups of
men had been drifting over the great continent of Asia. Farther and
farther they traveled until at last a group, perhaps forced on by
stronger groups behind, stood on the utmost tip of northeastern Asia,
the tip of Siberia now known as the East Cape.
Standing on the ocean shore those men shaded their eyes and looked out
across the water. There, only fifty-six miles away, lay another land.
Curiosity, or perhaps the force of "enemy pressure", urged them on. A
means of crossing those fifty-six tantalizing miles was found. At last
the first human foot touched American soil.
At first glance it may seem that the crossing would be impossible for
men who were without boats. Such was not the case. In winter the Bering
Sea often freezes over completely. Present-day Eskimos cross on the ice
and only a few years ago a white man made the crossing with a dog team.
Thus, primitive man needed only the winter ice in order to satisfy his
curiosity about the land across the water. The journey was made even
less hazardous by two islands, the Diomedes, that raised their heads in
the center of the Bering Sea, cutting the crossing into two shorter
jumps.
It is even possible that when those men reached that tip of Asia no
water separated them from America. A strip of land may have connected
the two continents. It is known very definitely that at some not far
distant date the two continents were connected by land, for some of our
well-known animals have crossed from one to the other. The horse and the
camel developed in America and walked off to Asia. The mammoth and the
bison reversed the direction and crossed from Asia to America. In order
for those beasts to make the crossing, a land bridge was necessary.
When the land bridge disappeared is not known. When the first men came
is not known. Certain it is, however, that if the land bridge was in
existence when the first men came to America, it afforded them an easy
approach. If, on the other hand, it had disappeared beneath the waves of
the Bering Sea, the men must have crossed on the ice. No one can as yet
be positive as to the exact manner of the crossing. The important point
is that the crossing was made and America was discovered and populated.
Primitive man, after hundreds of thousands of years of wandering over
the Old World, had at last found the one point at which he could enter a
new land.
That this new land was superior to the old soon became apparent to the
newcomers. Summers were longer: winters were less severe. Hunting and
fishing were excellent and in the summer edible plants were common.
Truly, here was a better land.
The first crossing from Asia to America was made many thousands of years
ago. From the evidence now at hand, fifteen or twenty thousand years
seems to be not too great an antiquity for those first Americans. Even
at that early date, however, man was well-developed mentally and
physically and had all the capabilities of modern man. The first
American was no primitive brute. He was Homo sapiens, little different
from the fifteenth century foreigners who rediscovered America thousands
of years later and gradually edged it away from its first settlers.