THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OF THE HOPI
The Hopi is essentially religious. As a ritualist he has no superior on
the face of the earth. From the ceremonial standpoint the Hopi people
are the most religious nation known. From four to sixteen days of
every month are employed by one society or another in the performance
of secret religious rites, or in public ceremonies, which, for want
of a better name, the whites call dances. So complex, indeed, is the
Hopi's religious life that we have no complete calendar as yet of _all_
the ceremonies that he feels called upon to observe. Every act of his
life from the cradle to the grave has a religious side. Fear and the
need for propitiation are the motive powers of his religious life, and
these, combined with his stanch conservatism, render him a wonderfully
fertile subject for study as to the workings of the child mind of the
human race.
With such a complex and vast religious system this chapter can attempt
no more than merely to outline or suggest the thoughts upon which his
religion is based, and then, in brief, describe two or three of the
most important of his religious ceremonials.
I can do better than attempt a difficult matter, and one that requires
years of study, viz., to account for the religious concepts of the
Indian. I can urge the reader to obtain Major J. W. Powell's "Lessons
of Folk-lore," which appeared in the _American Anthropologist_ for
January-March, 1900. In it he has written a most fascinating account of
the thought movements of the Amerind; and Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, in his
"Interpretation of Katchina Worship," has given a clearer idea of Hopi
religious belief than has ever before been penned.
[Illustration: GROUP OF HOPI MAIDENS AT SHUNGOPAVI.]
The Hopis themselves are not aware of the why and wherefore of all they
do. For centuries they have followed "the ways of the old," until they
are ultra conservatives, especially in matters pertaining to religion.
I have already referred to and described the kivas or underground
ceremonial chambers, where many of their rites are performed.
Six objects closely connected with their worship should be thoroughly
understood, as such knowledge will simplify a thousand and one things
that will otherwise appear mysterious to one who visits the Hopis for
the first time. These objects are the _baho_ (prayer stick or plume),
the _puhtabi_ (road marker), the _tiponi_, the _natchi_, the _shrine_,
and the _katchina_.
The baho is inseparably connected with all religious ceremonies and
prayers. Without it prayers would be inefficacious. Generally, before
every ceremony is performed, a certain time is given to the making of
bahos. One form of baho is made of two sticks, painted green with black
points, one male and the other female, tied together with a string made
of native cotton, and cut to a prescribed length. A small corn husk,
shaped like a funnel and holding a little prayer meal and honey, is
attached to the sticks at their place of union. Tied to this husk is a
short, four-stranded cotton string, on the end of which are two small
feathers. A turkey wing-feather and a sprig of two certain herbs are
tied so as to protrude above the butt ends of the sticks, and the baho
is complete.
Other bahos are made of flat pieces of board, anywhere from a foot to
three feet in length, and two inches or more wide, to which feathers
and herbs are attached. On the face of these figures of katchinas,
animals, reptiles, and natural objects, such as rain-clouds, descending
rain, corn, etc., are painted, every object having a distinct and
symbolic meaning. In other cases the bahos are carved into the zigzag
shape of the lightning. The Soyal bahos are many and various. Some
are long, thin sticks, with cotton strings and feathers attached near
the ends; others are thicker, with many feathers tied to the centre;
some are bent or crook-shaped, while still others are long willow
switches to which eagle, hawk, turkey, flicker, and other feathers
are tied. They are made with great care and solemnity and prayed over
and "consecrated" before being used. They are "prayer bearers," the
feathers symbolizing the birds who used to fly to and from the World of
the Powers with their messages to mankind and the answers thereto.
The puhtabi (or road marker) is a long piece of native cotton string,
to which a feather or feathers are attached, and it is placed on the
trails to mark the beginning of the road (hence its name) to the
shrines which are to be visited during the ceremonies.
The tiponi is to the Hopi what the cross is to the devout Catholic.
No altar is complete without it. Altars are often set up with a
substitute for a tiponi, but all recognize its insufficiency. Tiponis
vary, that of the Antelope Society being a bunch of long feathers
(see the photograph in the chapter on the "Snake Dance"), while
that of the Soyal ceremony is of a quartz crystal inserted into a
cylindrical-shaped vessel of cottonwood root.
In the Lelentu and Lalakonti ceremonies part of the rites consist in
an unwrapping of the tiponis. In both of them either kernels of corn
or other seeds formed essential parts. Dr. Fewkes says: "From chiefs
of other societies it has been learned that their tiponis likewise
contained corn, either in grains or on the ear. Although from this
information one is not justified in concluding that all tiponis contain
corn, it is probably true with one or two exceptions. The tiponi is
called the "mother," and an ear of corn given to a novice has the same
name. There is nothing more precious to an agricultural people than
seed, and we may well imagine that during the early Hopi migrations the
danger of losing it may have led to every precaution for its safety.
Thus it may have happened that it was wrapped in the tiponi and given
to the chief to guard with all care as a most precious heritage. In
this manner it became a mere symbol, and as such it persists to-day."
Whenever ceremonies are about to take place in the kivas the chief
priest puts in place on the ladder-poles or near the hatchway of
each participating kiva a sign of the fact, called the natchi. This
I have later described on the Snake and Antelope kivas. At the Soyal
ceremony on the Kwan (Agave) kiva, the natchi consisted of a bent
stick, to which were fastened six feathers, representing the Hopi six
world-quarters. For the north, a yellow feather of the flycatcher or
warbler; for the west, a blue feather of the bluebird; for the south, a
red feather of the parrot; for the east, a black-and-white feather of
the magpie; for the northeast (above), a black feather of the hepatic
tanager; and for the southwest (below), a feather from an unknown
source and called _toposhkwa_, representing different colors.
The natchis of two of the kivas in the New Fire ceremony held in Walpi
in 1898 were sticks, about a foot long, to the ends of which bundles
of hawk feathers were attached. At another kiva it was an agave stalk,
at one end of which were attached several crane feathers and a circlet
of corn husks. A natchi used later by another society consisted of
a cap-shaped object of basketry, to which were attached two small
whitened gourds in imitation of horns.
That the natchi is more than a sign of warning to outsiders to keep
away from the secret rites of the kiva is evidenced by the variety of
materials used; and, indeed, the things themselves are now known to be
symbols, to some of which Mr. Voth has learned the key. For instance,
on the natchi of the Snake and Antelope Societies, the skins of the
_piwani_--which is supposed to be the weasel--are attached. The Hopis
say of the animal to whom the skin belongs that when chased into a
hole, he works his way through the ground so quickly that he escapes
and "gets out" at some other place. Now see the ceremonial significance
of the use of this weasel's skin on the Snake natchi. They are supposed
to affect the clouds and compel them to "come out," so that rain will
come quickly.
Near all the villages, or on the terraces below, a number of shrines
may be found where certain of the "Powers" are worshipped. In the
account of the Snake Dance I speak of the shrine of the Spider Woman,
and show the photograph made when I followed Tubangointiwa (the
Antelope chief), and watched him deposit bahos and offer prayers to
her. The number of shrines is large. I have seen many, but there is not
space here to describe them. It is an interesting occupation, during
the ceremonies, to follow the priests, after they have deposited the
puhtabi and begun to sprinkle the sacred meal, to the shrines. If the
observer can then have explained to him the deity to whom the shrine is
dedicated, and his or her place in the Hopi pantheon, his knowledge of
Hopi worship will be considerably increased.
Of katchinas much might be written. They are ancient ancestral
representatives of certain Hopi clans who, as spirits of the dead, are
endowed with powers to aid the living members of the clan in material
ways. The clans, therefore, pray to them that these material blessings
may be given. "It is an almost universal idea of primitive man," says
Fewkes, "that prayers should be addressed to personations of the beings
worshipped. In the carrying out of this conception men personate the
katchinas, wearing masks and dressing in the costumes characteristic
of these beings. These personations represent to the Hopi mind their
idea of the appearance of these katchinas or clan ancients. The spirit
beings represented in these personations appear at certain times in
the pueblo, dancing before spectators, receiving prayer for needed
blessings, as rain and good crops."
The katchinas are supposed to come to the earth from the underworld in
February and remain until July, when they say farewell. Hence there
are two specific times which dramatically celebrate the arrival and
departure of the katchinas. The former of these times is called by
the Hopi _Powamû_, and the latter _Niman_. At these festivals, or
merry dances, certain members of the participating clans wear masks
representing the katchinas, hence katchina masks are often to be found
in Hopi houses when one is privileged to see the treasures stored away.
In order to instruct the children in the many katchinas of the Hopi
pantheon, _tihûs_, or dolls, are made in imitation of the ancestral
supernal beings, and these quaint and curious toys are eagerly sought
after by those interested in Indian life and thought. Dr. Fewkes has in
his private collection over two hundred and fifty different katchina
tihûs, and in the Field Columbian Museum there is an even larger
collection.
Of the altars, screens, fetishes, cloud-blowers, ceremonial pipes,
bull-roarers, etc., I have not space here to write. Suffice it to
say they have a large place in the Hopi's ritual and all should be
carefully studied.
When I first began to visit the Hopis my camps were generally at the
foot of the trail, as near to water as possible. Every morning at a
very early hour I was awakened by a loud ringing of cowbells, and at
first I thought it must be that the Hopis had a herd of cows and they
were driving them out to pasture. They were evidently going at a good
speed, for the bells clanged and clattered and jangled as if being
fiercely shaken. But when I looked for the cows they were never to
be seen. Then, too, as on succeeding mornings I listened I found the
animals must be driven very hastily, for the sound moved with great
rapidity towards, past, away from me.
One morning I determined to get up and watch as soon as I heard the
noise approaching. It was just as the earliest premonitions of dawn
were being given that I was awakened, and, hurriedly jumping up, stood
on my blankets and watched. Soon one, two, four, and more figures
darted by in the dim light, each carrying a jangling cowbell, and to
my amazement I found they were not cows, but Hopi young men, naked
except for a strap or girdle around the loins, from which hung the
bell, resting upon the haunch. They were out for their morning run, and
it was not merely a physical exercise, but had a distinct religious
meaning to them. As I have elsewhere written:--
"The Hopi has lived for many centuries among the harsh conditions of
the desert land. Everything is wrested from nature. Nothing is given
freely, as in such a land as southern California for instance. Water
is scarce and has to be caught in the valley and carried with heavy
labor to the mesa summit. The soil is sandy and not very productive
unless every particle of seed corn is watered by irrigation. Firewood
is far away and must be cut and brought to their mesa homes with labor.
Wild grass seeds must be sought where grass abounds, perhaps scores of
miles away, and carried home. Pinion nuts can only be gathered in the
pinion forests afar off, and to gain mescal the pits must be dug and
the fibres cooked deep down in the mysterious recesses of the Grand
Canyon. The deer and antelope are swift, and can only be caught for
food by those who are stout of limb, powerful of lung, and crafty of
mind. Hence in the very necessities of their lives they have found the
use for physical development. And this imperative physical need soon
graduated into a spiritual one. And the steps or processes of reasoning
by which the chief motive is transferred from the physical to the
spiritual are readily traceable. Of course, they are a 'chosen people.'
'Those Above' have given especial favors to them. They must be a credit
to those Powers who have thus favored them. This implies a steady
cultivation of their muscular powers. Not to be strong is to be a bad
Hopi, and to be a bad Hopi is to court the disfavor of the gods. Hence
the shamans or priests urge the religious necessity of being swift and
strong."
[Illustration: HOPI WOMAN WEAVING BASKET, HER HUSBAND KNITTING
STOCKINGS.]
[Illustration: HOPI WOMAN PREPARING CORN MEAL FOR MAKING DOUGHNUTS.]
Nor is this all. In days gone by they were surrounded by predatory
foes. Physical endurance was an essential condition of national
preservation. Without it they would long ago have been starved or
hunted out of existence. The gods called upon them to preserve
their national life, to live by cultivation of endurance, hence the
imposition of physical tasks as a religious exercise.
And these morning runs of the young men were of ten, twenty, and even
more miles, taken without any other food than a few grains of parched
corn.
It is no uncommon thing for an Oraibi or Mashonganavi to run from his
home to Moenkopi, a distance of forty miles, over the hot blazing sands
of a real American Sahara, there hoe his corn-field, and return to his
home, within twenty-four hours. The accompanying photograph of an old
man who had made this eighty-mile run was made the morning after his
return, and he showed not the slightest trace of fatigue.
For a dollar I have several times engaged a young man to take a message
from Oraibi to Keam's Canyon, a distance of seventy-two miles, and he
has run on foot the whole distance, delivered his message, and brought
me an answer within thirty-six hours.
One Oraibi, Ku-wa-wen-ti-wa, ran from Oraibi to Moenkopi, thence to
Walpi, and back to Oraibi, a distance of over ninety miles, in one day.
When I was a lad I got the impression somehow that Indians made fire
by rubbing two sticks together. Once or twice I tried it. I got two
sticks, perfectly dry, and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. But the more I
rubbed, the cooler the sticks seemed to get. I got hot, but that had no
effect on the sticks.
Later in life, when I began to make my journeys of exploration in the
wilds of Nevada, California, Arizona, and New Mexico, and I sometimes
needed a fire, and didn't have a single match left, I tried it again;
this time not as an experiment, but as a serious proposition. My
rubbing of the two sticks, however, never availed me a particle. I
might as well have saved my strength for sawing wood. Yet the Indians
do get fire by the rubbing of two sticks together, and the occasion
of their doing it is one of the greatest and most wonderful of the
religious ceremonies of the Hopis. Dr. Fewkes has written for the
scientific world a full account of it, and from that account I condense
the following.
Few white men have ever seen the ceremony, and did they do so and tell
the whole of what they saw they would not be believed.
Four societies of priests conduct the elaborate rite at Walpi. It is
not held at Sichumavi or Hano, but is conducted at Oraibi and the three
villages of the middle mesa. "The public dances are conducted mainly by
two of the societies, whose actions are of a phallic nature. These two
act as chorus in the kiva when the fire is made, but the sacred flame
is kindled by the latter two societies.... For several days before the
ceremony began, large quantities of wood were piled near the kiva
hatches, and after the rites began, this fuel was carried down into the
rooms and continually fed to the flames of the new fire by an old man,
who never left his task. The flames of the new fire were regarded with
reverence; no one was allowed to light a cigarette from it or otherwise
profane it."
On the first day the chiefs assembled for their ceremonial smoke, and
the next day at early dawn one of them went to the narrow portion of
the mesa between Walpi and Sichumavi and laid on the trail one of the
puhtabi, or long strings, elsewhere described, sprinkling a little
meal and casting a pinch toward the place of sunrise. At the same time
he said a prayer: "Our Sun, send us rain." Just as the sun appeared
he "cried" the announcement, of which Dr. Fewkes gives the free
translation:--
"All people awake, open your eyes, arise!
Become _Talahoya_ (Child of Light), vigorous, active, sprightly.
Hasten, Clouds, from the four world quarters.
Come, Snow, in plenty, that water may be abundant when summer
comes.
Come, Ice, and cover the fields, that after planting they may yield
abundantly.
Let all hearts be glad.
The Wüwūtchimtû will assemble in four days.
They will encircle the villages, dancing and singing their lays.
Let the women be ready to pour water upon them,
That moisture may come in abundance and all shall rejoice."
Four days later, with elaborate preparation and carefully observed
ritual the new fire was made. About a hundred participants were
present. When all were ready the fire-board was held in position by two
kneeling men, while two others manipulated the fire drill. The singing
chief then gave the signal and two societies started a song, each with
different words and yet in unison, accompanied by clanging of bells and
rattling of tortoise shells and deer hoofs. The holes of the fire-board
and stones were sprinkled with corn pollen. The spindle or fire drill
was held vertically between the palms, and in rotating it the top was
pressed downward. Smoke was produced in twenty seconds and a spark of
fire in about a minute. The spark smudged cedar-bark, which was put
in place to catch it, and then the driller blew it into a flame. This
flame was then carried to a pile of greasewood placed in the fireplace,
and as the wood blazed to the ceiling the song ceased. Prayer was
then offered by one of the chief priests of one of the societies and
ceremonial offerings sprinkled into the fire. This priest was followed
by one from each of the other societies and by individual worshippers.
They then, in procession, paid a ceremonial visit to the shrine of the
Goddess of Germs, which is among the rocks at the southwestern point of
the mesa. It is made of flat stones set on edge, opened above and on
one side, and consists of a fetish of petrified wood.
Then followed a complex series of ceremonies that merely to outline
would require several pages. Some of them are public dances, others
dramatic representations in a crude fashion of what the legends of the
Hopis say are certain events which transpired in the underworld, and a
most important one is the disposal of the sacred embers of the new fire.
There are few ceremonies in the world that equal in solemnity and
interest, and that are more charming, than those performed by the
parents and other relatives when a Hopi baby comes into the world.
There are religion, affection, sentiment, and poetry embraced in what
we--the superior people--would undoubtedly term the superstitious rites
of these simple-hearted people. One reason for the fervor of this rite
is the genuine welcome every Hopi mother and father accord to their
baby when it is born. It is "good form" among them to be proud of the
birth of their children. No married woman is happy unless she has a
"quiver full" of children, and one of her constant prayers before her
marriage is that she may be thus blessed.
So when the child comes there is great rejoicing. It is immediately
rubbed all over with ashes to keep the hair from growing on the body;
or that, at least, is the reason the Hopi mother gives for allowing her
little one to be scrubbed all over with the ashes.
Then it is wrapped up in a cotton blanket of the mother's own weaving,
for Hopi women, and men also, are great experts in growing, spinning,
and weaving cotton. Now it is ready for the cradle. This is either a
piece of board or a flat piece of woven wicker-work about two and a
half feet long and a foot wide. There is also fixed at the upper end
two or three twigs arranged in a kind of bow, so that a piece of cloth
thrown over them forms an awning to protect the face of the child from
the sun. When this bow is not in use it can be slipped over to the
back of the cradle. Strapped in this queer cradle, the baby is either
stretched out upon the ground to go to sleep, covered over with a
blanket, or reared up against the wall. But if your eyes were keen you
would see by its side a beautiful white ear of corn. And if you saw it
and knew the Hopi mother's ways and her thoughts, you would find that
the reason for putting the corn there was this: she believes that the
corn represents one of her most powerful gods on the earth, and that if
this god is made to feel kindly towards the new-born child he will send
it good health and strength and skill in hunting and everything else
that she desires for her loved baby. So, you see, it is mother love,
combined with a singular superstition, that makes the Hopi mother place
the ear of corn by the side of her sleeping child.
When the baby is twenty days old it is--shall I say?--baptized. You
can hardly call it this, but, anyhow, it answers the same thing as
baptism does with us. About sunset the child's godmother arrives. She
is generally the grandmother or aunt on the father's side. Just as the
first streaks of light begin to come in the early morning the ceremony
begins. After washing the mother's head and legs and feet, the baby's
turn comes. The house is full of relatives and friends to watch and
bring good fortune to the little one. A bowl of suds is made by beating
the soapweed until the water is covered with beautiful lather. Then
the godmother takes an ear of corn, dips it into the suds, and touches
the baby's head with it. This she does four times. Then she washes the
baby's head very carefully and thoroughly in the suds. But the washing
would be of no good unless all the baby's female relatives on the
father's side were to dip their ears of corn into the suds and touch
its head with them four times, just as the godmother did. Now the baby
is washed all over, and then--strange to say--the godmother fills her
mouth full of warm water, and, balancing the baby on one hand, she
squirts the water from her mouth all over the little one. To dry it,
she holds it before the fire, and when it is quite dry she rubs it
with white corn-meal, wraps it in a blanket, and passes it over to the
mother, who is seated near to the fire. Just before her are two baskets
full of corn-meal, one coarsely and one finely ground. Taking an old
blanket, the godmother spreads it over the mother's lap, the baby is
placed on it, then she takes a little of the fine meal and rubs it on
the face, arms, and neck of the mother, and also upon the face of the
child. Then with the ear of corn in her hand, and slowly and regularly
moving it up and down, she prays first over the mother, then over the
baby. I have heard several of these prayers. Here is one of them:
"Ho-ko-na (butterfly), I ask for you that you live to be old, that you
may never be sick, that you may have good corn and all good things. And
now I name you Ho-ko-na" (or whatever the name is to be).
Then every woman and girl of the father's relatives does just the same
and prays the same kind of prayer; but singular to us is the fact that
each one gives the child any name she prefers. As each one finishes her
prayer, she gives her ear of corn and some sacred meal she has brought
with her to the mother, who invariably responds with the Hopi "Thank
you!"--"Es-kwa-li."
Nobody knows at the time which name the baby will have, as he or she
grows up. That is left to chance to determine--generally the preference
of the mother.
Now the baby is put in its cradle, with some of the ears of corn
presented to the mother placed under the lacing on the breast of the
little one, and it is ready to be dedicated to the sun. After sweeping
the floor, the godmother sprinkles a line of meal about two inches wide
from the cradle to the door, and the mother does the same thing.
[Illustration: HOPI "BOOMERANGS."
_In the collection of George Wharton James._]
[Illustration: HOPI CEREMONIAL DRUMS.
_In the collection of George Wharton James._]
Out of doors the father is anxiously watching for the first direct
light of the sun, and the moment it appears above the horizon he gives
the signal. Immediately the godmother picks up the cradle, so that the
baby's head is towards the door, and near to the floor, carries it over
the line of sacred meal, the mother following. Each has a handful of
meal. At the door they stand side by side. The godmother removes the
blanket from the baby's face, holds the sacred meal to her mouth, says
a short prayer, and then sprinkles the meal towards the sun, and then
the mother does the same; and, after ceremonially feeding the baby, all
joining in the feast, the ceremony is at an end.
Another most beautiful ceremony of the Hopis is that which alternates
with the Snake Dance, viz., the Lelentu, or Flute Dance. I have had
the pleasure of witnessing it several times, and last year (1901) was
one of five white persons present. To me this meant walking a weary
thirteen miles over the hot sands of the Painted Desert, carrying a
camera weighing about fifty pounds on my back. But the beauty and charm
of the ceremony and the satisfaction of obtaining the photographs of it
more than repaid me for the hot and exhausting walk.
After the secret kiva ceremonies (rites in the underground chambers of
the fraternity of the Flute) the first public rites of the day took
place at a spring near the home of Lolúlomai, the chief of the Oraibi
pueblo, and about five miles west of the town. Here is one of the
pitiful springs upon which the people depend for their meagre supply
of water. Just before noon men, women, and girls might have been seen
wending their way from the village on the mesa height, down the steep
trails, over the sandy way trodden for centuries by their forefathers,
towards the location of the spring.
Every face was as serious and wore as grave and earnest an expression
as that of a novice about to be confirmed in her holiest vows. Arrived
at the spring, an eminence just above it to the southwest was the
chosen site for the preliminaries. Here an hour or more was spent in
prayers, sprinkling of meal before and upon the altar, and the painting
of the symbols of the clan upon the participants.
Other priests during the whole time were on their knees or in other
postures of reverence, praying, singing, or chanting, and sprinkling
the sacred meal on or before the altar. A large number of bahos, or
prayer sticks and plumes, were used.
At this time the chief priest left the hillside and solemnly marched
down to the spring. It is circular in shape, and with a rude wall built
around it. At the opening in the circle three small gourd vessels
were placed, two of which held sacred water from some far-away spring,
and the other was full of honey. A singular thing occurred about the
filling of this honey jar. A nest of bees had located in the wall of
the spring, and the chief priest, taking it for granted that this was a
good sign, had the nest dug out and the honey extracted from the comb,
for his sacred purposes. After he had prayed for a while the priests
and women from above marched down, all except the flute players. As
they stood around the spring they sang and prayed, while the chief
priest stepped into the water, bowing his face down over it, and waving
his tiponi in and through it. Soon it was a filthy, muddy mess, instead
of a water spring, and when it seemed mixed up enough he began to dip
his face deep into it, while the men and women around continued their
singing and worship.
Then he came forth, and now began a most beautiful processional march
around the spring, in time to the weird playing of the priests above.
After three times circling around, the group stood, facing the west,
and at certain signals sprinkled large handfuls of sacred meal in the
direction of the water. This was followed by a most profuse scattering
of bahos in the same manner. Literally hundreds of them were thus
thrown, and I gathered (after the celebrants were gone) scores of them
for my collection. The bahos used on this occasion were mere downy
feathers to which cotton strings were attached. The effect as the
meal and the feathers were thrown was remarkably beautiful, and the
scene was most impressive; none the less so for its strangeness and
peculiarity.
These concluded the ceremonies at this spring. In the meantime the
chief priest had gone to his house over the hill, and from there had
started out a group of young men who were to race to the spring near
the mesa--four miles away. It was a scorching hot day--as I had found
out in my own walk--and yet these young men bounded over the sandy
trail like hunted deer. It was a glorious sight to witness them. Ten
or a dozen athletic youths, clad scantily, their bronzed figures in
perfect proportion, revealing their strength and power, their long
black hair waving out behind them, darting off like strings from a bow
across the desert.
Slowly we followed them, and when we arrived at the other spring found
they had long ago passed it, and the victor had received his reward.
Similar ceremonies were gone through at the near-by spring as at the
one farther away, and when they were completed the whole party formed
in procession, and as solemnly as if it were a funeral march proceeded
up the steep trail to the village and there repeated some of the
ceremonies already described.
The purport of all this it is comparatively easy to understand. The
Snake Dance is a prayer for rain, which, according to the Hopi's
ideas, is stored in vast reservoirs in the heavens. He also believes
that there are vast water supplies under the earth, and so, every
other year, he petitions the powers that govern and control these
subterranean reservoirs to loosen the waters and let them flow forth
into the springs.
In one of the dances of the Navaho they symbolize the water from
above and the water from below by linking the first fingers together.
This gives us the Greek fret, and when this symbol is copied in their
basketry, we see this classic design, purely the result of imitation,
and having as clear a meaning to the Indian mind as the cross has to
the Christian.
Reluctantly I am compelled to omit a brief account of the Basket Dance,
which, however, I have partially described in my book on "Indian
Basketry."
The Hopis have very clear and distinct conceptions of a spirit life
beyond the grave. It is not the "happy hunting-ground," though, to
which the general ideas of the whites consign them. Theirs is a world
of spirits, with some advantages over the world of human beings, but
where life is very similar to what it was on earth. There is neither
punishment awarded for wrong done on earth, nor reward for good living.
It is simply a continuation of previous existences. When a child is
born the spirit is supposed to come from the underworld through an
opening in the earth's crust called _Shi-pá-pu_, and when the grown man
dies his spirit returns thither. His body is buried in a cleft of the
rocks on the mesa side, a mile or so away from the village. The body is
wrapped up and placed in the rocky grave, and then covered with loose
rocks. Food and drink are placed on the grave, so that when the spirit
ascends from the body and begins its long journey to _Shi-pá-pu_ and
thence to the underworld, it may have food wherewith to gain strength.
The curious visitor will also notice the baho which is thrust between
the rocks until it touches the body. Another baho touching this upright
one is placed on the grave pointing toward the southwest. These bahos
are especially prepared by the shaman, or "medicine man," and are for
the purpose of guiding the spirit as it leaves the body. If no baho
were there, the spirit might grope in darkness, trying to force its way
down; but, being directed by the prayers of the shaman, the disembodied
spirit immediately realizes the guiding power of the baho, and,
following it, reaches the companion baho pointing to the southwest,
the direction it must travel to reach the entrance to the underworld.
This entrance to the underworld was long thought to be in the San
Francisco Mountains near Flagstaff. But Dr. Fewkes explains this to be
an error. The _Shi-pá-pu_ is, to the Hopi, the "sun-house or place of
sunset at the winter solstice. As seen from Walpi, the entrance to the
sun-house is indicated by a notch on the horizon situated between the
San Francisco range and the Eldon mesa," hence the conception that the
entrance to the underworld was in that exact location.
[Illustration: A HOPI BELLE AT SHUNGOPAVI.]
[Illustration: BLIND HOPI BOY, KNITTING STOCKINGS.]