THE HAVASUPAIS' RELIGIOUS DANCES AND BELIEFS
The Havasupais do not occupy a high place in the scale of religious
life. They are very different from the Hopis and Navahoes. They have
few ceremonies, few prayers, and few ideas connected with the world of
spirits. If evil comes upon them they seek to propitiate the power that
caused it. They dance and pray. But there is no system, no recurrence
of elaborate ceremonials year after year. Indeed, the only regular
dance that I have personally seen is that of the annual harvest, and
that is occasionally omitted. The Sick Dance, as its name implies, is
for the purpose of healing the sick.
On the second night of my first visit to the Havasupais my companions
and I were invited by Hotouta to accompany him to one of these harvest
thanksgiving dances. It was a wild and fantastic scene. Gathered
together in a circular enclosure, the fence made of willow poles bound
together with withes of the same tree, were between one hundred and
two hundred Indians of both sexes in any and all manner of dress and
undress. Three or four bonfires added to the weirdness by throwing
peculiar lights and shadows upon the countenances of those present. At
times there was a silence which became almost solemn in its intensity,
and then talking and chattering broke out again, as if the sound of
their own voices helped, in some measure, to relieve the painfulness
of the solemnity of this not-very-welcome religious ceremonial. I was
actually gazing upon the preparations in progress for the sacred peach
dance. One by one the notables of the tribe were pointed out to me.
There stood Kohot Navaho in proud solitariness, eyeing the preparations
with a moodiness which became his serious and taciturn nature. Not a
thing of importance passed his eye. His keen powers of observation
took in the frivolity of certain young Havasupai belles as well as the
actions of the Chemehuevi Indian who was to be director of the music
of this religious festival. By his side stood his second son, who, in
gentle and mellifluous speech was talking to those with whom he came in
contact. Hotouta, the second chief, was by my side, acting as guide,
chaperon, and instructor in the mysteries. Here was his daughter, a
fine buxom lass of sixteen summers, with merry, laughing eyes, saucy
lips, thick black hair, cut with the usual deep fringe on her forehead,
and a voice that would have been the fortune of an American girl who
desired a place on the operatic stage. Yonder stood Ha-a-pat-cha, a
fine athletic fellow with muscles of steel and a chest like that of an
ox, whose only costume was the gee-string. He marched to and fro as if
consciously proud of his fine figure, came up at a call from Hotouta
and seemed to be highly pleased with his introduction to us, although
there was an air of condescension in his handshake which suggested that
I was the honored person. Perhaps I was! _Quien sabe?_
Near by stood Mr. Bass and a special commissioner sent by the United
States Indian Department to report on the condition of the Havasupais,
and seek to gain their consent to send their children to the Indian
school at Fort Mohave.
I was too tired that night to stay long. So after an hour's
watching I returned to Hotouta's hawa, stretched myself out on the
sand--_outside_--in my blankets, and was soothed to sleep by the
monotonous chant of the dancers.
Next day, in a burst of frolicsomeness I exclaimed to my friend, who
was commonly called Tom by the whites:
"Hotouta, why you no let me dance, all same Havasupai?"
It never entered my comprehension that Tom would regard the remark with
serious attention, hence my astonishment can better be imagined than
described when thoughtfully he turned to me and said:
"Maybe so! Me no know! Maybe so Havasupai no like 'em you dance. Maybe
so they all same like 'em! I see pretty soon."
"Pretty soon" he came back with a cheery "All right! Navaho say you
dance. Havasupai like 'em you!"
Here was a fine predicament! I had never danced a step in my life.
In the few ball-rooms I had visited I had been a "wall flower." But
in this case I had provoked the invitation myself, so, after a brief
mental struggle, as gracefully as possible I accepted the consequences
of my own rash speech.
When the hour arrived I placed myself under the hands of Hotouta,
Yunosi his squaw, and their daughter, in order that I might be properly
and appropriately apparelled for the occasion. The first salutation
somewhat daunted me. Tom said, "You catch 'em white shirt!" The only
white shirt I had was a night robe which had done service to such an
extent that I had placed it in my saddlebags when we left civilized
regions for the purpose of wrapping up specimens of rock to take home.
Its "whiteness" may have been somewhat of a memory. But I brought it
forth, and waited anxiously for Hotouta's approval. He was delighted,
and I felt reassured.
When it was donned, and a pair of blue overalls, I was ready to receive
the painted lines of sub-chieftainship on my face, and the eagle plume
in my hair.
Then, in solemn dignity, we started down, Indian file, for the dance
ground. At least Hotouta and I were dignified, while behind us Mr.
Bass and the special Indian Commissioner were making frantic endeavors
to hold in their laughter at the rude and brutal (!) jokes they were
making at my expense. We had not proceeded far before Hotouta stopped
me and with solemn face said: "You dance, you no laugh. Havasupai no
like 'em you laugh!" I promised to be "as sober as a judge," and not
laugh, and again we proceeded, to be stopped once more by Hotouta, who
explained with perfect seriousness: "Maybe so you dance heap harnegi.
Havasu squaw, she like 'em you. You catch 'em one squaw. Then you dance
more and maybe so you catch 'em two squaw. She come, all same" (and
here Hotouta illustrated how the squaw might come and separate me from
my male companion to right or left, and take my hand in the fashion
afterwards described). "She take your hand, all same. You no nip. She
no like 'em you nip." I promised not to "nip," and with satisfaction
Hotouta now led the way to the dance ground.
After a formal introduction to all the chiefs and their approval given
to my being accepted as Hotouta's brother and a fellow chief with him
in the tribe of the Havasupais, the dance began. This is how it was
conducted.
The "evangelist" sang over a strain of a new song. A dozen or so of the
leaders took it up, and as soon as they were fairly familiar with it,
the others joined in. Then the women took a hand, literally as well as
figuratively, for they came in and separated the men, interlocking the
fingers, midway between the first and second knuckle joints, standing
shoulder to shoulder, and enlarging the group until a complete circle
was formed. Then, with a side shuffling motion, moving one foot to the
left and following it rapidly but rhythmically with the other, the
while lustily and seriously singing the song they had just learned, the
dance continued,--a dull, monotonous, sleep-producing ceremony, until
the onlooker was awakened by manifestations he little expected to see
at an Indian thanksgiving dance. Very often it occurs that women of the
tribe are affected with a somewhat similar excitement to that which
seizes the negro when he has "the power." With a shriek, the woman
hysterically leaps within the circle made by the dancers, and howls
and shouts and dances and jumps, and then, perhaps, throws herself in
a heavy stupor upon the ground. Some will run to the centre post, and,
hanging on with one or both hands, will swing rapidly around until they
fall exhausted to the ground. When the male members tire of seeing
these excitable females upon the ground, they unostentatiously step up
to the prostrate figures, seize their long thick hair, swing it over
the shoulder, and thus proceed to drag the now exhausted women to the
fires, where friends of their own sex attend them until they "come to."
And what did all this ceremony mean?--for to the Havasupais it was a
ceremony, performed with as much dignity as we perform our religious
services in church or cathedral. While I was dancing Hotouta was giving
an explanation to Mr. Bass. Each year this dance is performed as an act
of highest devotion to gain the approbation of "Those Above." The Peach
Dance is the "harvest thanksgiving" dance--when thanks are made for the
gifts of the past and prayers are offered for the needs of the future.
The leader of the singing was a Chemehuevi Indian,--a tribe located
west of the Wallapais and living mainly on the California side of the
Colorado River.
He was a regular "evangelist" amongst the Indians,--a native Moody, and
gifted enough, musically, to perform the part of Sankey or Excell. His
harangue on this occasion was an unusually fervent oration, especially
cutting to Hotouta, for he was one of the chief objects of the
"evangelist's" vituperation and abuse. In fact had Hotouta been a white
man he would have gone away saying the preacher was "horribly personal
and disgracefully abusive" to the leading members of his congregation.
He explained that the reason the tribe had lost so many of its members
last year by the dread "grippe" was because of their levity. They had
laughed too much, gone hunting and visiting white men's camps when
they ought to have been dancing. They were allowing the white man
to laugh them out of the traditions of their forefathers. Then he
especially denounced all friendliness to the whites, and singled out
Hotouta, Chickapanagie, Spotted Tail, and one or two others who had
been the leaders in thus countenancing the whites, and administered
to them severe rebukes. After this, referring to the offer of the
whites to give them farming implements, food, etc., if they would send
their children to the Indians' school at Mohave, he urged his hearers
to listen to no such proposals. He said in effect: "Don't send your
children to the school of the white man. If you do they will grow up
with the heart of the white man, and the place of the Havasupai will
know them no more. Your tribe will be broken up, and then the white
man will come and take possession of your canyon home where the stream
ever flows and sings to the waving of willows by their side. He will
rob you of your corn-fields and of your peach orchards. No longer will
the place where the bodies of your ancestors were burned be sacred to
you; your hunting-grounds are now all occupied by him, the deer and the
antelope have nearly disappeared before his rifle, and he is hungry
to possess the few things you still have left. This offer is a secret
plot against you. He thinks if he cannot drive you out he will seduce
you out, and this school is the offer he makes to you, so that he can
get your children into his hands. There he will teach them to make fun
of you; to despise your method of living; your houses, your food, your
dress, your customs, your dances will all be ridiculed by him, and
so you will lose the favor of 'Those Above,' and you yourselves will
soon die and your name and tribe be forgotten." In other words, he
endeavored to make it perfectly clear to the assembled Havasupais that
the school proposition was a white man's scheme--a dodge--to get their
children away so that eventually they--the whites--might claim the
Havasu Canyon for themselves.
Thus he exhorted time after time, and, after each sermon, sang out,
line for line, a new song that he desired them to learn. At first
he alone sang, then Navaho and a few of the older ones took up the
strain, and soon all joined in. Then the dance began, and continued
with unabated zeal and fervor until the "missioner" gave the signal for
rest. Then, after another harangue, another song was learned, another
dance performed, and so on, _ad libitum_.
The state of mental exaltation or frenzy, not unlike those peculiar
manifestations of the negroes at revival meetings, the Shakers, "having
the power" etc., is not uncommon among the Havasupais. At the Thapala
Dance I have seen three women almost simultaneously suddenly dart
from different parts of the dance circle, and hysterically shrieking,
yelling, and singing, foaming at the mouth, tearing their hair, falling
down with violence, and with appalling disregard to the injury to their
own bodies dash against each other, or on the great central tree trunk,
which stands like a flagpole in the centre of their dance corral,
yield to this uncontrollable frenzy, and remain under its influence
for an hour or more. During the whole time of their ecstasy, the dance
continued uninterruptedly, except when one of the frenzied women dashed
towards the dancers as if to escape the circle. Then the man nearest
by rudely took her by the arms, body, or shoulders and thrust her,
shrieking, back into the centre of the circle.
Yunosi gained her present name because of her occult powers and
frenzied visions. After Hotouta's death she would occasionally wake
up and cry out that she saw the spirit of her husband, "Tom, heap
big Supai chief." And, strange to say, in these exalted moments she
invariably spoke in the crude English her husband had taught her and
of which she was very proud. Pointing into vacant space, with glaring
eyes and excited voice, she would declare that she saw "Big chief Tom.
He come back to see me. O Tom! Tom! I see you." Then turning to her
friends and others around, she would shriekingly ask, "You no see? You
no see?" And thus she gained her name, Yunosi.
Thinking that perhaps the Havasupais used some herb, drug, or
intoxicant, similar to opium, hasheesh, or the stramonium (jimson-weed)
which the Navahoes use to produce similar frenzies and visions, I
took some of this, which they call smal-a-ga-to-a, and asked several
if they ever used it. In every case the answer was a sharp "No!
Han-a-to-op-o-gi," and one Havasu informed me it was "very bad. All
same white man's whiskey." Indeed, such has been the excellent teaching
they have received from their ancients, and the tenacity with which
they, as a people, have adhered to it, it may be safely affirmed that
the Havasupais use no noxious drug, or fermented or intoxicating
liquor, and that they do not know any processes by which they can be
made.
The ways of the Havasupai medicine-men are similar to those of fakirs
in all lands and ages. I have seen Rock Jones, after examining a
patient, jump up and excitedly exclaim: "I can see into your head
and all through your brains; down your throat and into your stomach,
through your kidneys, bladder, and intestines, and you are sick, very
sick, very heap sick. But I am a good medicine-man. I can cure you
sure, I can cure you quick. But you must promise to give me five
dollars. Don't forget I must have five dollars."
[Illustration: ROCK JONES, LEADING MEDICINE MAN OF HAVASUPAIS.]
[Illustration: SINYELA, WITH ESUWA, GOING FOR WATER.]
In one case with which I was familiar, the medicine-man declared that
the heart of one sick man had gone away to the topmost peak of one of
the canyon walls. It would cost several dollars to charm it back, but
he could do it. Yielding to the pleadings of the man without the heart,
he began to exercise his charms and incantations, and the next day he
came in and declared he had seen it return during the early morning
hours, and his patient would recover. His prognostication was correct;
the man was soon well and strong, and paid his six-dollar fee for
having his heart returned to him, with due gratitude and thankfulness.
Another man who had been on the trail of some runaway horses had become
overheated and was attacked severely with cholera morbus. He was
brought into the village nearly dead, his pains increased by a terrible
soreness in his back, caused by severe vomitings. The medicine-man
gave him a large dose of red pepper, and, after sucking the flesh of
his stomach, bowels, and back, rubbed the body of the sick man with
red pepper, and then began his incantations. Soon he declared that a
Wallapai doctor who hated the Havasupais had left a long white rope
on the trail over which the sick man passed, and that it was this
charmed rope which had entered his body and caused the sickness. On
the promise of a fee of several dollars, he expressed confidence that
the rope could be successfully taken from the invalid, and that its
removal would be followed by immediate recovery. After a little time
had elapsed, the crafty charlatan produced a long white rope, which he
said his skill had extracted. Needless to add, the patient recovered,
and to this day extols the wonderful skill and power of his physician.
Of late years a large number of Havasupais have been carried off with
a bilious fever, with marked malarial symptoms. The usual indifference
in the earlier stages of the disease gives way later on to frantic
sweatings and appeals to the medicine-man, who comes and sings and
seeks by his incantations to remove the evil something within the
patient that causes the disease. If the sick person is daring enough to
apply to the agency teacher for medicine, he knows that he no longer
need expect any help from the medicine-man, whose curses will follow
him to the world of doom. As in the world of civilization there is
jealousy, sharp and keen, between the schools of medicine, so do the
Havasupai medicine-men resent any innovations upon their time-honored
customs.
Here, as elsewhere, one man's skill and reputation is oftentimes
maintained by pulling down that of another. Dr. Tommy used to be a
fairly successful medicine-man, but once, during a fearful epidemic
of grippe, several children died under his ministrations. It was soon
noticed that those parents whose children had been treated by another
medicine-man were active in spreading the report that "they believed
Dr. Tommy had killed the children by giving them coyote medicine." And
this "tommy-rot" killed him as a medicine-man, for, though he was never
brought to any trial on account of this charge, he was shunned and
ostracized, and in very rare cases is ever called upon to exercise his
medical powers.
There are now three medicine-men in the tribe, the chief of whom
is Rock Jones, whose Havasupai names are suggestive. They are:
Pa-a-hu-ya´ and In-ya-ja-al´-o, the former signifying "black," the
other "the rising sun." At-nahl, whose name means a "sack," is the
second in importance, and the youngest is Ma-tō-mā´, commonly
known as Bob. I have just asked Lanoman which is the best medicine-man
of the three, and his reply when I asked "Who makes the sick people
well the quickest?" was: "All same. All no good. All make people dead
pretty quick!"
Death is supposed to be, in every case, the departure of the spirit
from the body, and when the sick person is approaching death the
friends and relatives, led by the medicine-man, will often sit around
the invalid and sing their petitions to the departing spirit in the
hope that it may be led to repent and return to the body. If the
patient recovers, the medicine-man takes the credit (and what pay he
can get) for the return of the spirit, and goes about in high feather,
recounting to all he meets the new instance of his wonderful and occult
power.
One of the greatest insults that can be offered to the friends of a
dead Havasupai is to refer to him. The reason given to me for this is
that whenever a thought is sent after a dead person it either prevents
his spirit continuing the journey to Shi-pa-pu, or leads him to desire
to return to earth, neither of which are good for a Havasupai.
One of the school teachers informed me that she once, in reconvening
the school after a holiday, read out the name of a child that had
recently died. The moment the name was pronounced several of both
boys and girls burst out, some into a wild wailing and others into
fierce and angry denunciations of the wicked white woman who had thus
arrested the spirit of the deceased on its journey to the underworld.
The last night of our first visit the Havasupais had a Sick Dance. When
one of their number is very sick or about to die, the medicine-man
summons the principal men and women of the camp to dance around him, in
the hope of driving away the disease. It so happened that during our
visit one of the young bucks was very sick, and a dance was ordered
for Saturday evening. It was quite a distance away from our camp, and
Vesna, whose guest we were that night, informed us that we would not be
welcomed. The welcome would have been overlooked but for our need of
rest, and as it was a mile or two away, it was decided not to attend,
although we could hear the incantations at intervals during the night.
The dance, however, was similar to such dances elsewhere. The sick man
was placed in the open air and a circle formed around him, while a
slow and solemn dance was engaged in by those in the circle, and all
participated in the chanting of an incantation. This was kept up during
the entire night, the voices of the singers at times pitched to a very
high key. As soon as one in the circle grew tired, he dropped out and
another took his place, but the dance and chant never ceased. If a sick
man survives the noise and din and wakefulness of this until morning,
it is probable that his vitality will carry him through, and he will
recover.
If death is thought to be certainly near, the best clothes of the
wardrobe are brought out and placed upon the dying person. A woman's
best dress is not too good for her to die in, and a man's finest
garments, even to the broadcloth cast-off "Prince Albert" received
through the kindness of some white friend in the East, is deemed the
only appropriate gear in which to meet the dread summons to Shi-pa-pu.
When life is extinct the dressed-up body is wrapped in the best
blanket the hawa affords, and is then ready for the period of wailing
and mourning. Relatives and friends of the deceased come and sit in
the hawa, and as the spirit moves them they raise their voices in
lamentation, or, singing the bravery, the daring, the good deeds of
the deceased, ask for him a safe journey to the dread secret places
of the underworld. Nothing can be more doleful than to hear these
sad lamentations in the dead of the night. All is still, except the
never-silent stream which steadily keeps up its murmur as it flows over
the stones. Otherwise the very Angel of Silence seems to be brooding
over the scene, for the babble of the creek merely accentuates the
nearly perfect stillness. Suddenly a loud, long, minor wail rises from
the hawa in the midst of the willows, and one feels that he can see the
sound ascend to the heights of these enclosing walls, striking here and
there, and then rebounding to opposing walls, until the canyon is full
of voices, wailing one against the other and making a spirit chorus of
infinite sadness and distress. The imagination unconsciously suggests
that these echoing wails are the sympathizing spirit voices of men and
women--former inhabitants of this canyon of the willows--who have come
to weep with those who weep for their dead loved ones.
There is no fixed period for this wailing, but as soon as it is
satisfactorily concluded the body is tenderly thrown across the
best horse owned by the deceased, if a man,--or ridden by her, if
a woman,--and, accompanied by other animals conveying some of his
or her most desirable treasures, is taken to the burial or burning
ground. Prior to the advent of the white man the Havasupais practised
cremation, and between Bridal Veil and Mooney Falls, and also on the
rim of the Grand Canyon, at a place since named Crematory Point, the
remains of scores of burned bodies of men and women and also of horses
were recently to be seen. For it was deemed of the greatest importance
to give the spirit of the deceased the spirit of his dead horse, upon
which he might ride to the dark abode of the underworld. Before it was
burned, the horse must be strangled, and this was done by tightly tying
a strip of wet buckskin around his neck, and, as it dried, it rapidly
contracted and thus strangled the doomed animal. Then both human being
and animal were burned.
But even this was not considered a sufficient offering to the powers of
the dead. Returning to the village, a peach tree in the orchard of the
dead man was cut down that it might also be "dead" and thus accompany
its owner to the spirit world and give him its refreshing fruit
there. On the death of a chieftain or great warrior, several peach
trees--thapala--are cut down.
Of late years, however, these customs of cremation, strangling of
horses, burning of treasures, and cutting down of peach trees have
not been as universal as formerly. Hotouta, the oldest son of Kohot
Navaho, the last of the old chiefs, had great influence with his
people, and Mr. Bass succeeded in convincing him of the extravagant
folly of thus wasting on the dead, to whom the sacrifices were of no
benefit, that which could be of so much use to the living. Consequently
his influence materially helped to change the custom from cremation to
ground interment. Later, after Hotouta's death, when several families
had gone back to the old habit of cremation, others exercised their
influence with the Havasupais to lead them to abandon the old custom.
These endeavors were all effective to a large extent, and, when Captain
Navaho, the last great Kohot the Havasupais will ever have, died in
1898, he was buried instead of being cremated. Late in 1897, however,
the son of Sinyela died, and though in many things Sinyela is one of
the most progressive of the Havasupais, he and his brother took the
boy's body across a horse, tied an axe to the corpse, and started up
the canyon towards Topocobya. When they returned the axe had been used,
the horse was strangled, and burned bones of human and equine bodies in
a side gorge attest the hold the old superstitions and customs still
have upon the Havasupai mind.
And again in the summer of 1899--May or June--when the daughter of
the present Kohot and wife of Lanoman (another son of Sinyela) died,
Lanoman felt that nothing short of the old and time-honored method of
cremation would be suitable for the daughter of the new chief and the
wife of so smart and bright an Indian as himself. For Lanoman knew more
English, perhaps, than any other Havasupai, and was afflicted with the
not uncommon complaint of great self-esteem and conceit. Accordingly,
the body was clothed in the finest blankets of the wardrobe, and many
precious things were taken with it to the Havasu Canyon below Mooney
Falls. Tenderly the body was lowered down the already nearly useless
ladder, and after suitable wailing, the funeral pyre was built, the
body placed thereupon, more wood heaped around and over the body,
and then the whole fired. When the body was destroyed, the mourners
returned, kicking down the upper portion of the ladder as they did so,
that no other Havasupai should be burned there, and also that no white
foot should again desecrate the sacred precincts of the lower Havasu
Canyon. Then, that the favorite horse of the woman thus honored after
her death should follow her to the underworld, it was taken to the
edge of the plateau above, from which the descent to Bridal Veil and
the upper portion of Mooney Falls is made, the wet strip of buckskin
tied around its neck, and, as the cord dried and tightened, and the
poor animal began to reel and totter in its death struggles, it was
given a push, tumbled over the edge, and--instead of descending to the
lower canyon at the foot of the Falls where the burned body was--fell
on the shelves of limestone accretions which terrace the canyon at the
side of the Falls, bounded from one terrace to another, and then, to
the infinite disgust of the mourners, lodged there. And there it still
remains--or what is left of it, for, as I passed by in July, 1899,
though I could not see the animal, the frightful odor of the carrion
ascended to the very heavens.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
On the Navahoes consult the full list prepared by Professor Frederick
Webb Hodge in Washington Matthews' "Navaho Legends," published by
Houghton, Mifflin & Co., for the American Folk-Lore Society.
COUES, ELLIOTT.
On the Trail of a Spanish Pioneer. The Diary and Itinerary of Francisco
Garcés in his Travels through Sonora, Arizona, and California. 2 vols.
Francis P. Harper, New York, 1900.
DORSEY, GEORGE A., AND VOTH, H. R.
The Oraibi Soyal Ceremony. (Field Columbian Museum, publication 55,
Anthropological Series, Vol. III, No. 1. 59 pages and many plates.)
FEWKES, JESSE WALTER.
Preliminary Account of an Expedition to the Pueblo Ruins near Winslow,
Arizona, in 1896. (In Smithsonian Report for 1896. Pages 517 to 539.)
Preliminary Account of Archæological Field Work in Arizona in 1897. (In
Smithsonian Report for 1897. Pages 601 to 603.)
Two Ruins Recently Discovered in the Red Rock Country, Arizona. (In
American Anthropologist, August, 1896. Pages 263 to 283.)
Pueblo Ruins near Flagstaff, Arizona. (In American Anthropologist, N.
S., Vol. II, 1900. Pages 422 to 450.)
A Suggestion as to the Meaning of the Moki Snake Dance. (In Journal of
American Folk-Lore, date unknown. Pages 129 to 138.)
The Owakulti Altar at Sichomovi Pueblo. (In American Anthropologist, N.
S., Vol. III, 1901. Pages 211 to 226.)
An Interpretation of Katchina Worship. (In the Journal of American
Folk-Lore, April-June, 1901. Pages 81 to 94.)
The Pueblo Settlements near El Paso, Texas. (In American
Anthropologist, N. S., Vol. IV, No. 1, 1902. Pages 57 to 95.)
The New Fire Ceremony at Walpi. (In American Anthropologist, N. S.,
Vol. II, No. 1, 1900. Pages 80 to 138.)
Property Rights in Eagles among the Hopi. (In American Anthropologist,
N. S., Vol. II, 1900. Pages 690 to 707.)
Tusayan Flute and Snake Ceremonies. (In Nineteenth Annual Report Bureau
of American Ethnology, 1901. Pages 957 to 1011.)
Archæological Expedition to Arizona in 1895. (In Seventeenth Annual
Report Bureau of American Ethnology, 1898. Pages 520 to 744.)
Snake Ceremonials at Walpi. (Vol. XIV. of Journal of American Ethnology
and Archæology. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, 1894. In this volume
is a carefully prepared bibliography on the Snake Dance (see pages 124
to 126) which is too lengthy to be reproduced here and to which the
student is referred.)
GARCÉS, FRANCISCO.
Diary and Itinerary, translated by Elliott Coues. (See Coues.)
HOUGH, WALTER.
Environmental Interrelations in Arizona. (In American Anthropologist
for May, 1898. Pages 133 to 155.)
JAMES, GEORGE WHARTON.
In and Around the Grand Canyon. Little, Brown, & Co., Boston, Mass.,
1900.
Indian Basketry. Henry Malkan, New York, 1901.
The Havasupai Indians and their Cataract Canyon Home. (In Good Health,
Battle Creek, Mich., August, 1899. Pages 446 to 456.)
The Industries of the Navahoes and Mokis. (In Good Health, June, 1899.
Pages 315 to 322.)
The Pueblo Indians and their Prayer Spring. (In Good Health, July,
1899. Pages 379 to 384.)
The Snake Dance of the Mokis. (Two articles in Scientific American, New
York, June 24, 1899, and September 9, 1899.)
Scenes of Spanish Occupancy in our Southwest. (In American Monthly
Review of Reviews, July, 1899. Pages 51 to 59.)
Discovery of Cliff Dwellings in the Southwest. (In Scientific American,
New York, January 20, 1900.)
What I Saw at the Snake Dance. (In Wide World Magazine, London,
January, 1900. Pages 264 to 274.)
Harvest Festivals of Some of our Southwestern Aborigines. (In Good
Health, October, 1899. Pages 583 to 589.)
Moki Fashions and Customs. (In Good Health, November, 1899. Pages 641
to 647).
Types of Female Beauty among the Indians of the Southwest. (In Overland
Monthly, San Francisco, Cal., March, 1900. Pages 195 to 209).
Some Indian Women. (In New York Tribune Supplement, April 8, 1900.)
The Fire Dance of the Navahoes. (In Wide World Magazine, London,
September, 1900. Pages 516 to 523.)
The Hopi Basket Dance. (In New York Tribune Supplement.)
Indian Madonnas. (In New York Tribune Supplement, December 23, 1900.)
Indian Pottery. (In House Beautiful, Chicago, April, 1901. Pages 235 to
243.)
Down the Topocobya Trail. (In Wide World Magazine, London, April, 1901.
Pages 75 to 80.)
Indian Basketry. (In Outing, New York, May, 1901. Pages 177 to 186.)
The Storming of Awatobi. (In the Chautauquan, Cleveland, O., August,
1901. Pages 497 to 501.)
The Art of Indian Basketry. (In the Southern Workman, Hampton, Va.,
August, 1901. Pages 439 to 448.)
Indian Basketry in House Decoration. (In the Chautauquan, Cleveland,
O., September, 1901. Pages 619 to 624.)
Moki and Navaho Indian Sports. (In Outing, New York, October, 1901.
Pages 10 to 15.)
Indian Pottery. (In Outing, New York, November, 1901. Pages 154 to 161.)
The Hopi Indians of Arizona. (In Southern Workman, Hampton, Va.,
December, 1901. Pages 677 to 683.)
The Collecting of Indian Baskets. (In the Literary Collector, New York,
January, 1902. Pages 103 to 109.)
Some Indian Dishes. (In American Kitchen Magazine, Boston, Mass.,
January, 1902. Pages 129 to 133 and frontispiece.)
The Indians and their Baskets. (In Four Track News, New York, February,
1902. Pages 77 to 79.)
Indian Blanketry. (In Outing, New York, March, 1902. Pages 684 to 693.)
LUMMIS, CHARLES F.
Across the Continent. (Scribner's.)
A New Mexico David, and Other Stories. (Scribner's.)
The Land of Poco Tiempo.
The Man that Married the Moon.
All the volumes of "Land of Sunshine," now "Out West," of which he is
Editor, published in Los Angeles, Cal.
MATTHEWS, WASHINGTON.
Navaho Legends. (The American Folk-Lore Society. In this volume
Professor F. W. Hodge has a full bibliography on the Navahoes.)
MINDELEFF, COSMOS.
Navaho Houses. (In Seventeenth Annual Report Bureau of American
Ethnology, 1898. Pages 475 to 517.)
PEPPER, GEORGE H.
The Navaho Indians. An Ethnological Study. (In Southern Workman,
Hampton, Va., November, 1900. 7 pages.)
The Making of a Navaho Blanket. (In Everybody's Magazine, New York,
January, 1902. Pages 33 to 43.)
POWELL, J. W.
The Lessons of Folk-Lore. (In American Anthropologist, N. S., Vol. II,
No. 1, 1900. Pages 1 to 36.)
VOTH, H. R., AND DORSEY, GEORGE A.
The Oraibi Soyal Ceremony. (See Dorsey.)
_AN IMPORTANT NEW BOOK DESCRIBING THE MOST STUPENDOUS SCENE ON THE
AMERICAN CONTINENT_
_In and Around the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River in Arizona_
By GEORGE WHARTON JAMES
Illustrated with twenty-three full-page plates and seventy-seven
pictures in the text · 8vo · Cloth · Price, $2.50
[Illustration: CROSSING THE COLORADO TO THE SHINUMO.]
The volume, crowded with pictures of the marvels and beauties of the
Canyon, is of absorbing interest. Dramatic narratives of hairbreadth
escapes and thrilling adventures, stories of Indians, their legends and
customs, and Mr. James's own perilous experiences, give a wonderful
personal interest in these pages of graphic description of the most
stupendous natural wonder on the American Continent.--_Philadelphia
Public Ledger._
A veritable storehouse of wonders.--_Boston Advertiser._
There is a ring of actuality about this book.--_Outing_, New York.
The Grand Canyon has never before received such an exposition either
with pen or camera.--_Literary World._
He has told his story in so fascinating a manner that one feels almost
within sight and sound of the great canyon.--_San Francisco Bulletin._
The most thorough description of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado and
its surroundings to be found anywhere.--_Chicago Tribune._
He has not been content to describe the wonders in his own words, but
from historical records, from the notes of explorers and discoverers,
and from the accounts of Indian natives, white hunters, miners, and
guides, he has quoted freely wherever he could find matter of interest
and value.--_Argonaut_, San Francisco.
An illustrated work of which too much can scarcely be said in praise.
The Grand Canyon is one of the world's wonders, and this volume is
the most thorough and satisfying presentation of its many rugged
attractions thus far offered.--_San Francisco Chronicle._
There is probably no man in the country who is better qualified for
the writing of such a book than Professor James.... Too much cannot be
said in praise of his work.--_Arizona Daily Journal-Miner_, Prescott,
Arizona.
Will be the standard with reference to the main features--historic,
scenic, and scientific--of the Great Canyon of the Colorado.... Legend
and tradition are drawn upon for the dramatic effect and local color,
so that in many respects the book possesses a charm peculiarly its
own.... One of the typical books of the great West.--_Brooklyn Standard
Union._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE COLORADO RIVER AND ITS CANYONS.
II. EXPLORATIONS FROM THE TIME OF THE SPANIARDS (1540)
TO MAJOR J. W. POWELL (1869).
III. EXPLORATIONS BY MAJOR J. W. POWELL (1869-72).
IV. LATER EXPLORATIONS.
V. FLAGSTAFF, THE SAN FRANCISCO MOUNTAINS, THE CLIFF AND
CAVE DWELLINGS, AND THE DEAD VOLCANOES.
VI. FROM THE SANTA FÉ RAILWAY TO THE CANYON BY STAGE.
VII. TO THE CANYON BY RAILWAY, AND A FEW PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS
TO THE TOURIST.
VIII. FIRST IMPRESSIONS.
IX. WHAT DOES ONE SEE?
X. ON THE RIM.
XI. THE GRAND VIEW TRAIL.
XII. THE BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL.
XIII. TWO DAYS' HUNT FOR A BOAT IN A SIDE GORGE NEAR
THE BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL.
XIV. THE MYSTIC SPRING TRAIL.
XV. THREE DAYS OF EXPLORING IN TRAIL CANYON WITH THE
WRONG COMPANION.
XVI. MR. W. W. BASS AND HIS CANYON EXPERIENCES.
XVII. THE SHINUMO AND ITS ANCIENT INHABITANTS.
XVIII. PEACE SPRINGS TRAIL.
XIX. LEE'S FERRY AND THE JOURNEY THITHER.
XX. JOHN D. LEE AND THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW MASSACRE.
XXI. UP AND DOWN GLEN AND MARBLE CANYONS.
XXII. THE OLD HOPI TRAIL.
XXIII. THE TANNER-FRENCH TRAIL.
XXIV. THE RED CANYON AND OLD TRAILS.
XXV. GRAND CANYON FOREST RESERVE.
XXVI. THE TOPOCOBYA TRAIL AND HAVASU (CATARACT) CANYON.
XXVII. THE HAVASUPAI INDIANS AND THEIR CANYON HOME.
XXVIII. HAVASU (CATARACT) CANYON AND ITS WATERFALLS AND
LIMESTONE CAVES.
XXIX. AN ADVENTURE IN BEAVER CANYON.
XXX. THE GEOLOGY OF THE GRAND CANYON.
XXXI. BOTANY OF THE GRAND CANYON.
XXXII. RELIGIOUS AND OTHER IMPRESSIONS IN THE GRAND CANYON.
XXXIII. PHOTOGRAPHING THE GRAND CANYON.
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE GRAND CANYON REGION.
LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers
254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's
original spelling, punctuation, hyphenation and use of accents have
been left intact.
Inconsistencies in the author's use of periods (full stops) with
illustrations have been resolved. The list of illustrations has been
modified so that illustrations appear in the correct sequence.