THE ADVENT OF THE WALLAPAIS
In the days of the long ago, when the world was young, there emerged
from Shi-pá-pu two gods, who had come from the underworld, named
To-cho-pa and Ho-ko-ma-ta. When these brothers first stood upon the
surface of the earth, they found it impossible to move around, as the
sky was pressed down close to the ground. They decided that, as they
wished to remain upon the earth, they must push the sky up into place.
Accordingly, they pushed it up as high as they could with their hands,
and then got long sticks and raised it still higher, after which they
cut down trees and pushed it up higher still, and then, climbing the
mountains, they forced it up to its present position, where it is out
of reach of all human kind, and incapable of doing them any injury.
While they were busy with their labors, another mythical hero appeared
on the scene, on the north side of the Grand Canyon, not far from the
canyon that is now known as Eldorado Canyon. Those were the "days of
the old," when the animals had speech even as men, and in many things
were wiser than men. The Coyote travelled much and knew many things,
and he became the companion of this early-day man, and taught him of
his wisdom. This gave the early man his name, Ka-that-a-ka-na-ve, which
means "Told or Taught by the Coyote."
[Illustration: A WALLAPAI, MAKING A MEAL ON THE FRUIT OF THE TUNA, OR
PRICKLY PEAR.]
[Illustration: WALLAPAI MAIDEN AND PRAYER BASKET.]
For long they lived together, until the man began to grow lonesome.
He no longer listened to the speech of the Coyote, and that made the
animal sad. He wondered what could be done to bring comfort to his
human friend, and at length suggested that he consult Those Above.
Kathat-a-kanave was lonesome because there were none others of his kind
to talk to. He longed for human beings, so, accepting the advice of the
Coyote, he retired to where he could speak freely to Those Above of
his longings and desires. He was listened to with attention, and there
told that nothing was easier than that other men, with women, should
be sent upon the earth. "Build a stone hawa--stone house--not far from
Eldorado Canyon, and then go down to where the waters flow and cut from
the banks a number of canes or sticks. Cut many, and of six kinds.
Long thick sticks and long thin sticks; medium-sized thick sticks and
medium-sized thin sticks; short thick sticks and short thin sticks. Lay
these out carefully and evenly in the stone hawa, and when the darkest
hour of the night comes, the Powers of the Above will change them into
human beings. But, beware, lest any sound is made. No voice must speak,
or the power will cease to work."
Gladly Kathat-a-kanave returned to the stone house, and with a hearty
good-will he cut many canes or sticks. He carried them to the house,
and laid them out as he had been directed, all the time accompanied
by the Coyote, who rejoiced to see his friend so cheerful and happy.
Kathat-a-kanave told Coyote what was to occur, and Coyote rejoiced
in the wonderful event that was about to take place. When all was
ready Kathat-a-kanave was so wearied with his arduous labors that he
retired to lie down and sleep, and bade Coyote watch and be especially
mindful that no sound of any kind whatever issued from his lips.
Coyote solemnly pledged himself to observe the commands,--he would
not cease from watching, and not a sound should be uttered. Feeling
secure in these promises, Kathat-a-kanave stretched out and was soon
sound asleep. Carefully Coyote watched. Darker grew the night. No
sound except the far-away twho! twho! of the owl disturbed the perfect
stillness. Suddenly the sticks began to move. In the pitch blackness
of the house interior, Coyote could not see the actual change, the
sudden appearing of feet and legs and hands and arms and head, and the
uprising of the sticks into perfect men and women, but in a few moments
he had to stand aside, as a torrent of men, women, and children poured
out of the doorway. Without a word, but thrilled even to the tip of
his tail with delight, he examined men, women, youths, maidens, boys,
girls, and found them all beautifully formed and physically perfect.
Still they came through the door. Several times he found himself about
to shout for joy, but managed to restrain his feelings. More came, and
as they looked around them on the wonderful world to which they had
come from nothingness, and expressed their astonishment (for they were
able to speak from the first moment), Coyote became wild with joy and
could resist the inward pressure no longer. He began to talk to the
new people, and to laugh and dance and shout and bark and yelp, in the
sheer exuberance of his delight. How happy he was!
Then there came an ominous stillness. The movements from inside the
house ceased; no more humans appeared at the doorway. Almost frozen
with terror, Coyote realized what he had done. The charm had ceased.
Those Above were angry at his disobedience to their commands.
When Kathat-a-kanave awoke he was delighted to see the noble human
beings Those Above had sent to him, but when he entered the hawa his
delight was changed to anger. There were hundreds more sticks to
which no life had been given. Infuriated, he turned upon Coyote and
reproached him with bitter words for failing to observe his injunction,
and then, with fierce anger, he kicked him and bade him begone! His
tail between his legs, his head bowed, and with slinking demeanor,
Coyote disappeared, and that is the reason all coyotes are now so
cowardly, and never appear in the presence of mankind without skulking
and fear.
As soon as they had become a little used to being on the earth,
Kathat-a-kanave called his people together and informed them that
he must lead them to their future home. They came down Eldorado
Canyon, and then crossed Hackataia (the Grand Canyon) and reached
a small but picturesque canyon on the Wallapai reservation, called
Mat-ta-wed-it-i-ta. This is their "Garden of Eden." Here a spring of
water supplies nearly a hundred miners' inches of water, and there are
about a hundred acres of good farming land, lying in such a position
that it can well be irrigated from this spring. On the other side
of the canyon is a cave about a hundred feet wide at its mouth, and
perched fully half a thousand feet above the valley.
Now Kathat-a-kanave disappears in some variants of the story, and
Hokomata and Tochopa take his place at Mattaweditita. The latter is
ever the hero. He gave the people seeds of corn, pumpkins, melons,
beans, etc., and showed them how to plant and irrigate them. In the
meantime they had been taught how to live on grass seeds, the fruit
of the tuna (prickly pear), and mescal, and how to slay the deer,
antelope, turkey, jack-rabbit, cottontail, and squirrel.
When the crops came Tochopa counselled them not to eat any of
the product except such as could be eaten without destroying the
seeds,--the melons and pumpkins,--so that when planting time came they
had an abundance. When the next harvest was ripe the crops were large,
and after picking out the best for seeds, some were stored away in the
cave as a reserve and the remainder eaten. As the years went on they
increased in numbers and strength. Tochopa was ever their good friend
and guide. He taught them how to dance and smoke and rattle when they
became sick; he gave them _toholwa_--the sweat-house--to cure them
of all evil; he taught the women how to make pottery, baskets, and
blankets woven from the dressed skins of rabbits. The men he taught
how to dress buckskin, and hunt and trap all kinds of animals good for
food. Thus they came almost to worship him and be ever singing his
praises. This made Hokomata angry. He went away and sulked for days at
a time. In his solitude he evidently thought out a plan for wreaking
his jealous fury upon Tochopa and those who were so fond of him. There
was one family, the head of which was inclined to be quarrelsome, and
Hokomata went and made special friends with him. He taught the children
how to make pellets of clay, and put them on the end of sticks and then
shoot them. Soon he showed them how to make a dart, then a bow and
arrow, and later how to take the horn of a deer, put it in the fire
until it was softened so that it could be moulded to a sharp point.
This made a dangerous dagger. Finally he wrapped buckskin around a
heavy stone, and put a handle to it, thus making a war-club; took a
rock and made a battle-hammer of it; and still another, the edge of
which he sharpened so that a battle-axe was provided. In the meantime
he had been stealthily instilling into the hearts of his friends the
feelings of hatred and jealousy that possessed him. He taught the
children to shoot the mud pellets at the children of other families.
He supplied the youths with slings, and bows and arrows, and soon
stones and arrows were shot at unoffending workers. Protestations and
quarrels ensued, the fathers and mothers of the hurt children being
angry. Hokomata urged his friends to defend their children, and they
took their clubs, battle-hammers and axes, and fell upon those who
complained. Thus discord and hatred reigned, and soon the two sides
were involved in petty war. Tochopa saw Hokomata's movements with
horror and dread. He could not understand why he should do these
terrible things. Yet when the people came to him with their complaints
he felt he must sympathize with them. The trouble grew the greater
the population became, until at last it was unbearable. Then Tochopa
determined on stern measures. Stealthily he laid his plan before the
heads of the families. Each was to leave the canyon, under the pretext
of going hunting, gathering pinion nuts, grass seeds, or mescal, and go
in different directions. Then at a certain time they were all to gather
at a given spot, and there provide themselves with weapons. Everything
was done as he had planned, the quarrellers--the Wha-jes--remaining
behind with Hokomata. Then, one night, the whole band, well armed,
returned stealthily to the canyon and fell upon the quarrellers. Many
were slain outright, and all the remainder driven from the home they
had cursed. Not one was allowed to remain. Thus the Wha-jes became
a separate people. White men to-day call them Apaches, but they are
really the Wha-jes, the descendants of the quarrelsome people the
Wallapais drove out of Mattaweditita Canyon.
Hokomata was furious. He was conquered, but led his people to settle
not far away, and many times they returned to the canyon and endeavored
to kill all they could. Thus warfare became common. The spear was
invented,--a long stick with a sharpened point of flint. Sometimes
the Wha-jes would come in large numbers, when many of the men were
away hunting. Then all the attacked would flee to the cave before
mentioned--which they still call Kathat-a-kanave's Nyu-wa (Cave
House)--where they built an outer wall of fortification, and farther
back still another. Several times the outer wall was stormed and taken,
but never could the Wha-jes penetrate to the inner part of the cave, so
to this day it is termed Wa-ha-vo,--the place that is impregnable.
After many generations had passed, Hokomata saw it was no use keeping
his people near the canyon; they could never capture it, and they had
lost all desire to become again part of the original people, so he led
them away to the southeast, beyond the San Francisco Mountains, down
into what is now southern Arizona and New Mexico. Here they settled
down somewhat and became the Apache race, though they are still
Wha-jes--quarrellers.
Left to themselves, the families in Mattaweditita increased rapidly,
until soon there were too many to live in comfort. So Tochopa took
most of them to Milkweed Canyon, and then he divided the separate
families and allotted to each his own territory. To the Mohaves he
gave the western region by the great river; the Paiutis he sent to the
water springs and pockets of southern Nevada and Utah; the Navahoes
went east and found the great desert region, where game was plentiful;
and the Hopis, who were always afraid and timid, built houses like
Kathat-a-kanave's fortress on the summit of high mountains or mesas.
The Havasupais started to go with the Hopis, and they camped together
one night in the depths of the canyon where the blue water flows to
Hackataia--the Colorado. The following morning when they started to
resume their journey a child began to cry. This was an omen that
bade them remain, so that family stayed and became known as the
Haha-vasu-pai, the people of the Blue Water. Most of the remaining
families went into the Mountains of the Tall Pine, south of Kingman,
and thus became known as the pai (people) of the walla (tall pines).
Here they found plenty of food of all kinds and abundance of game. As
they increased in numbers they spread out, some going to Milkweed,
others to Diamond and Peach Springs Canyons, and wherever they could
find food and water.
Thus was the human race begun and the Wallapais established in their
home.
When I asked where the white race came from, old Leve-leve scratched
his head for a moment and then declared that they were made from the
left-over sticks in Kathat-a-kanave's house.
But the Apaches, under Hokomata, would not leave the various peoples at
peace. They warred upon them all the time. And that is why the Wallapai
parents of a later day became accused of cruelty to their children.
Scattered about, a few here and a few there, they were fit subjects
for Apache attacks. A code of smoke signals, for warning, was adopted,
but it was not always possible to prevent surprises. Sometimes the
father of a family would go hunting and it would not be possible for
the mother and children to go along. If she were attacked under such
conditions, what could she do? If she tried to escape, hampered with
her little ones, they would all be caught and she would have to submit
to her captors and stand by and see them ruthlessly murdered. So she
preferred to kill them herself, which she often did by strangling or
suffocation. Then she might hope to reach the mountains and hide until
the cover of night gave her an opportunity to escape. This explanation
has actually been given to me as a statement of fact by some of the
older women of the tribe.
Sometimes when the Apaches would attempt a raid they would be
checkmated, the tables turned, and they themselves captured. Then there
were great rejoicings. A feast was invariably held, at which the scalps
were exposed on a pole around which the dances were conducted in the
light of immense fires.
Of late years both Apaches and Wallapais have been taught to bury their
enmity. Acting upon the suggestion of former agent Ewing, the Wallapai
chiefs sent a messenger of peace and invitation to the Apache chiefs,
asking them to come and visit the Wallapais during watermelon and green
corn time, and be friends as the Great Father at Washington desires.
Yet the Apaches, though the invitation has been several times repeated,
have never come. They remember "the days of the years gone by,"--the
days of murder, rapine, scalpings, and stealings of women. And they
are afraid that poison, treachery, sudden death, torture perhaps, lurk
behind the seeming friendliness. Revenge is sweet to an Indian, and the
Apache cannot conceive that so great a conversion has taken place in
the Wallapai heart as to lead him to forego his just revenge.
[Illustration: SUSQUATAMI, WALLAPAI WAR CHIEF.]
[Illustration: TUASULA, WALLAPAI CHIEF.]
When first known to the white man they were found inhabiting the region
they now occupy, including the Wallapai (sometimes spelled Hualapai),
Yavapai, and Sacramento Valleys. Their chief mountain ranges were the
Cerbab, Wallapai, Aquarius, and northern portion of Chemehuevi ranges.
They roamed as far south as Bill Williams' Fork of the Colorado, and
its branch, the Santa Maria. They then numbered about the same as they
do now, between six and seven hundred.
In Coues' translation of Garcés' Diary Prof. F. W. Hodge gives other
forms of spelling the name of the Wallapais, as follows: "Hah-wál-coes,
Haulapais, Ha-wol-la Pai, Ho-allo-pi, Hualpais, Hualapais, Hualipais,
Hualopais, Hualpáitch, Hualpas, Hualpias, Huallapais, Hulapais,
Hwalapai, Jagullapai (after Garcés), Jaguyapay, Jaqualapai,
Jaguallapai, Tiquillapai, Wallapais, Wil-ha-py-ah."
These and the various names given to the Wallapais show the
difficulties explorers encounter in endeavoring correctly to spell the
names they hear. It should never be forgotten that the Amerinds of the
Southwest speak with quite as great a latitude in pronunciation as is
found in the wonderfully varied dialects of the English language. To
make all these different pronunciations conform to a standard American
method is one part of the grand work of the Geographical Board, a much
abused but highly necessary public body.