Part 12
Their wandering course was now stayed. When they essayed to move farther eastward, a nomadic hunting race who occupied that region besought them not to advance farther. Their evil notoriety had preceded them, and the nomads feared the maleficent influence of their neighborhood. It would seem, however, that instead of hostile demonstrations the nomads entered into a treaty with them, offering to pay tribute of venison, roots, and grass-seeds, if they would abstain from traversing and blighting their land, to which the _Patun_ agreed.
But these unfortunate wretches were soon again embroiled in factional warfare which finally involved all the Hopi, and the stone images of the _Alosaka_ were lost or destroyed. Famine and pestilence again decimated them, until finally the _Alosaka katcina_ appeared to them and instructed them to carve two wooden images, but threatening them that if these images should be lost or destroyed, all the people would die.
Many other but widely divergent legends exist regarding the _Alosaka_, a number of which are associated with the pueblo of Awatobi, which was formerly one of the most populous Hopi towns. At one time this village experienced drought and famine, and _Alosaka_, from his home in the San Francisco Mountains, observed the trouble of the people. Disguised as a youth he visited Awatobi and became enamored with a maiden of that town. Several times he visited her, but no one knew whence he came or whither he went, for his trail no one could follow. The parents of the girl at last discovered that he came on the rainbow, and recognized him as a divine being. The children of this maid were horned beings, or _Alosakas_, but their identity was not at first recognized.
Like all the cultus heroes, _Alosaka_ is said, in legends, to have been miraculously born of a virgin. His father was the Sun, his mother an Earth-goddess, sometimes called a maiden. Like many gods, he traveled on the rainbow; he lived at Tawaki, the house of his father, the Sun, or the San Francisco Mountains.[14]
[14] The Alosaka Cult of the Hopi Indians, by J. Walter Fewkes; American Anthropologist (N. S.), Vol. I, July, 1899, pp. 535-539.
There is another tradition of the clans that moved from the southward collected by the late A. M. Stephen from no less a personage than Anowita (p. 208), who was chief of the Cloud people. The tradition is as follows:
We did not come direct to this region [Tusayan],--we had no fixed intention as to where we should go. We are the Patki nyumu, and we dwelt at Palatkwabi [Red land] where the agave grows high and plentiful; perhaps it was in the region the Americans call Gila valley, but of that I am not certain. It was far south of here, and a large river flowed past our village, which was large, and the houses were high, and a strange thing happened there.
Our people were not living peaceably at that time, we were quarreling among ourselves, over huts and other things, I have heard, but who can tell what caused their quarrels? There was a famous hunter of our people, and he cut off the tips from the antlers of the deer which he killed and [wore them for a necklace] he always carried them. He lay down in a hollow in the court of the village, as if he had died, but our people doubted this; they thought he was only shamming death, yet they covered him up with earth. Next day his extended hand protruded, the four fingers erect, and the first day after that one finger disappeared [was doubled up?]; each day a finger disappeared, until on the fourth day his hand was no longer visible and the old people thought that he dug down to the underworld with the horn tips.
On the fifth day water spouted up from the hole where his hand had been and it spread over everywhere. On the sixth day, _Palulukona_ [the Serpent Deity] protruded from this hole and looked around in every direction. All the lower ground was covered and many were drowned, but most of our people had fled to some knolls not far from the village and which were not yet submerged.
When the old men saw _Palulukona_ they asked him what he wanted, because they knew he had caused this flood; and _Palulukona_ said, "I want you to give me a youth and a maiden." The elders consulted and then selected the handsomest youth and fairest maid and arrayed them in their finest apparel, the youth with a white kilt and paroquet plume, and the maid with a fine blue tunic and white mantle. These children wept and besought their parents not to send them to _Palulukona_, but an old chief said, "You must go; do not be afraid: I will guide you." And he led them toward the village court and stood at the edge of the water, but sent the children wading in toward _Palulukona_, and when they had reached the center of the court where _Palulukona_ was the deity, the children disappeared. The water then rushed down after them, through a great cavity, and the earth quaked and many houses tumbled down, and from this cavity a great mound of dark rock protruded. This rock mound was glossy and of all colors; it was beautiful, and, as I have been told, it still remains there.
The White Mountain Apache have told me that they know a place in the south where the old houses surround a great rock, and the land in the vicinity is wet and boggy.
We traveled northward from _Palatkwabi_ and continued to travel just as long as any strength was left in the people,--as long as they had breath. During these journeys we would halt only for one day at a time. Then our chief planted corn in the morning and the dragonfly came and hovered over the stalks and by noon the corn was ripe; before sunset it was quite dry and the stalks, fell over, and in whichever way they pointed, in that direction we traveled.
When anyone became ill, or when children fretted and cried, or the young people became homesick the Coiyal Katcina (a youth and a maiden) came and danced before them; then the sick got well, children laughed, and sad ones became cheerful. We would continue to travel until everyone was thoroughly worn out, then we would halt and build houses and plant, remaining perhaps many years. One of these places where we lived is not far from San Carlos, in a valley, and another is on a mesa near a spring called Coyote Water by the Apache.
When we came to the valley of the Little Colorado, south of where Winslow now is, we built houses and lived there; then we crossed to the northern side of the valley and built houses at Homolobi. This was a good place for a time, but a plague of flies came and bit the suckling children, causing many of them to die, so we left there and traveled to Cipa (near Kuma spring). Finally we found the Hopi, some going to each of the villages except Awatobi; none went there.[15]
[15] Cosmos Mindeleff, 13th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, pp. 188-189.
The figure of a hand with extended fingers is very common, in the vicinity of ruins, as a rock etching, and also is frequently seen daubed on the rocks with colored pigments or white clay. These are vestiges of a test formerly practiced by the young men who aspired for admission to the fraternity of the Calako. The Calako is a trinity of two women and a man from whom the Hopi obtained the first corn, and of whom the following legend is told:
There was neither springs nor streams, although water was so near the surface that it could be found by pulling up a tuft of grass. The people had but little food, however, and they besought Masauwuh to help them, but he could not.
There came a little old man, a dwarf, who said that he had two sisters who were the wives of Calako, and it might be well to petition them. So they prepared an altar, every man making a _paho_, and these were set in the ground so as to encircle a sand hillock, for this occurred before houses were known.
Masauwuh's brother came and told them that when Calako came to the earth's surface wherever he placed his foot a deep chasm was made, then they brought to the altar a huge rock, on which Calako might stand, and they set it between the two _pahos_ placed for his wives. Then the people got their rattles and stood around the altar, each man in front of his own _paho_; but they stood in silence, for they knew no song with which to invoke this strange god. They stood there for a long while, for they were afraid to begin the ceremonies, until a young lad, selecting the largest rattle, began to shake it and sing. Presently a sound like rushing water was heard, but no water was seen; a sound also like great winds, but the air was perfectly still, and it was seen that the rock was pierced with a great hole through the center. The people were frightened and ran away, all save the young lad who had sung the invocation.
The lad soon afterward rejoined them, and they saw that his back was cut and bleeding, and covered with splinters of yucca and willow. The flagellation, he told them, had been administered by Calako, who told him that he must endure this laceration before he could look upon the beings he had invoked; that only to those who passed through his ordeals could Calako become visible; and as the lad had braved the test so well, he should henceforth be chief of the Calako altar. The lad could not describe Calako, but said that his two wives were exceedingly beautiful and arrayed with all manner of fine garments. They wore great headdresses of clouds and every kind of corn which they were to give to the Hopi to plant for food. These were white, red, yellow, blue, black, blue and white speckled, and red and yellow speckled corn, and a seeded grass (_kwapi_).
The lad returned to the altar and shook his rattle over the hole in the rock and from its interior Calako conversed with him and gave him instructions. In accordance with these he gathered all the Hopi youths and brought them to the rock, that Calako might select certain of them to be his priests. The first test was that of putting their hands in the mud and impressing them upon the rock. Only those were chosen as novices the imprints of whose hands had dried on the instant. The selected youths then moved within the altar and underwent the test of flagellation. Calako lashed them with yucca and willow. Those who made no outcry were told to remain in the altar, to abstain from salt and flesh for ten days, when Calako would return and instruct them concerning the rites to be performed when they sought his aid.
Calako and his two wives appeared at the appointed time, and after many ceremonials gave to each of the initiated five grains of each of the different kinds of corn. The Hopi women had been instructed to place baskets woven of grass at the foot of the rock, and in these Calako's wives placed the seeds of squashes, melons, beans, and all the other vegetables which the Hopi have since possessed. Calako and his wives, after announcing that they would again return, took off their masks and garments, and laying them on the rock disappeared within it.
Some time after this, when the initiated were assembled in the altar, the Great Plumed Snake appeared to them and said that Calako could not return unless one of them was brave enough to take the mask and garments down into the hole and give it to him. They were all afraid, but the oldest man of the Hopi took them down and was deputed to return and represent Calako.
Shortly afterward Masauwuh stole the paraphernalia and with his two brothers masqueraded as Calako and his wives. This led the Hopi into great trouble, and they incurred the wrath of Muiyinwuh, who withered all their grain and corn. One of the Hopi finally discovered that the supposed Calako carried a cedar bough in his hand, when it should have been willow; then they knew it was Masauwuh who had been misleading them. The boy hero one day found Masauwuh asleep, and so regained possession of the mask, Muiyinwuh then withdrew his punishments and sent _Palulukon_ (The Plumed Snake) to tell the Hopi that Calako would never return to them, but that the boy hero should wear his mask and represent him, and his festival should be celebrated when they had a proper number of novices to be initiated.
* * * * *
The celebration occurs in the modern Hopi pueblos in the Powamu ceremony, where the representative of Calako flogs the children. Calako's picture is found on the Powamu altars of several of the villages of the Hopi.[16]
[16] Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, Expedition to Arizona in 1895, 17th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part 2, Washington, 1898. C has the sound of sh.
IX
TRADITIONS AND HISTORY
When men grow old, they become, as if realizing their passing years, willing or even anxious to transfer to younger minds what they have learned. To the old men the historian of Hopi turns for information; the young men by the laws of growth live in the present. So when an old man dies there is a feeling of regret; especially when one as versed in the lore of his people as Masimptua departs, for who knows whether the pictures of his brain are impressed upon the minds of the new generation or whether they are lost forever?
Masimptua was one of the chief men of the East Mesa. His house was as large and neatly-kept as any in Sichomovi, where there is more room to build large dwellings than in circumscribed Walpi with its narrow cells. His children were grown up and married, and a number of little ones called him grandfather. Still his resting place is among the rocks on the mesa slope below the town, unmarked, as are those of his ancestors who sleep outside of the walls of the ruined cities of the Southwest. It is pleasant to remember "Masi" in his cheerful days, before warning shadow fell across his sunny spirit. In those days he was a genuine Hopi, a little boisterous, perhaps, but truly openhearted. No man in all the tribe could relate more vividly the legendary history of the old times, hence Masi stands to all who knew him as the exponent of Hopi traditions. Often summer evenings, returning from his fields he would tarry at the camp of the white people at the Sun Spring for a friendly smoke and chat. Here under the genial influences, led on by skillful questioning, he would unfold many a tale as interesting as those of an Eastern storyteller, till the sunset faded and the bright stars twinkled in the clear night sky.
One of his stories gives an idea of the happenings in Hopiland some centuries ago. At that time the people suffered from the attacks of the bands of Apache, who came out of their hunting grounds to the south in search of trouble. The trails to the mesa were closed and the Hopi went up and down the precipitous rock sides by means of a ladder which could be drawn up in time of danger. Masi could not avoid painting the prowess of the Hopi in strong colors while he described the last attack the Apache made when his grandfather was a boy. He gesticulated excitedly as though he were giving the death-blow to each of the fallen enemy that had fled before the valiant Hopi, and his hearer caught the contagion of his enthusiasm and slew with him the hated foe.
Another tradition he related was about the ancient people. Looking toward the Southwest he said, "Do you see two small peaks close together on the horizon? There is one of the houses of the sun, where he rests when he is in the west. Our people once lived in a rock town on the peak to the left. The town was called '_Chub i o chala ki_,' 'The house of the place of the Antelopes,' where also there are pine trees, shrubs and flowers, grass and much water. Perhaps it was here, who knows?" said he, "that the people were almost overwhelmed by a great flood which kept rising over the plains and over the hills till it reached nearly the tops of the mountains where the ancestors were waiting in fear. When the boy and girl were thrown into the flood, then came safety, for the wrath of the earth-god was appeased and the waters went down. But the youth and maiden heroes were turned into two great stone pillars, which bear their names to this day." (See Myths.)
This striking legend of some almost forgotten deluge related by Masi is not found alone among the Hopi, but is widespread among the Pueblos of the Southwest. Surely, there is no danger now of a flood in this dry region, but in former times as the vast levels and the beds of ancient lakes show, there must have been plenty of water. Masi's traditions do not go into geological periods, however.
Another time, while in reminiscent mood, Masi divulged that "very, very when" ago the Peaceful People lived on the Little Colorado River near Winslow. The name of the region where several towns were scattered over an extent of fifteen miles or so was Homolobi, "the place of two views." Here the people lived centuries before they came to the precipitous mesas of Hopiland. Later, when explorers tested the accuracy of Masi's tradition, they found in the low mounds that mark the ruined towns of Homolobi, many wonderful relics of the people who lived there before America was even a name. So Masi was proved a reliable traditionist, and an "honisht man," as Toby, the Tewa, says.
It is truly remarkable how the traditions and legendary lore have been carried down from ancient times among the Hopi. The moderns, who are accustomed to place reliance in recorded history, might be inclined to doubt the accuracy of oral tradition, if there were not much reason to believe otherwise. For instance, the Hopi have a number of traditions of the Spanish friars who lived in their country after the discovery by Coronado about three hundred and seventy-five years ago. An Oraibi Indian relates one of these minor traditions which might be expected to have been lost in the lapse of time but has been passed down with complete preservation of all the details.
It is thus: the friars who lived at Oraibi did not relish the water from the springs near the pueblo. Now the water at Moenkapi, the summer village of Oraibi, is excellent. The priests used to compel the Indians to bring water from that place. It chanced that the Indian whose duty it was to carry water from Moenkapi, not liking to bring water many miles _por el amor de Dios_, one day filled his canteen with the water of Oraibi and brought it to the friars. On tasting the water, they accused the Indian of deceit and compelled him to go to Moenkapi for more.
An old chief of Walpi gave a long and circumstantial account of the rule of the friars, against whom even at this late day he was very bitter. He said with emphasis, "_Castil shimuno posh kalolomi_," "The Spanish are very bad," and related how they strove to enslave the people, making them carry large cottonwood beams from the Little Colorado for the churches. To our knowledge, a few of these beams from the old churches, curiously carved, are now doing service in the ceilings of pagan kivas or underground rooms where secret ceremonies are carried on. The "long gowns," as the Indians also call them, might have held this tractable, timid people long in subjection in the non-essential things, such as labor, but as the old chief relates, they interfered with their time-honored ceremonies of ancestor and nature worship. "They said the dances were very bad and we must stop them," explained the old chief. There was still another grievance that the Hopi allege against the friars, and that was their treatment of the women. Interference with religion and custom have been at the bottom of most of the troubles of humanity. At last the Peaceful People turned and the _Castil shinumo_ were thrown over the rocky mesa, and from that time to this their names have been execrated by the Hopi.
Traditions of the very first appearance of Spaniards before the Pueblos have come down for ten generations as fresh as though the events had happened last year, and they can be compared with the accounts of the conquerors themselves. This lapse of time has not given mythical tinge to these events. It may be believed, then, that the ancient history which has become mythical dates very far back and to regions far removed from the present mesas of Hopiland. Every ruin in the province, those south on the Little Colorado and farther beyond the dim Mogollon Mountains on the horizon and those to other compass points for surprising distances are known in Hopi traditions, and wise is the student of ancient things in Tusayan who first fortifies himself by delving in this store of unwritten history.
The duties of the warrior chiefs are not burdensome, since the Hopi have fostered the arts of peace till it has become a national characteristic. It is fortunate for the Hopi that they belong to those who run away, not even "to fight another day," desirous to live in contentment and happy to exist on the earth, after the fierce enemies have jostled many tribes out of existence. Still, the Hopi keep up in a feeble, traditional way a warrior society, which corresponds to the powerful Priesthood of the Bow who are said to rule Zuñi. So in the villages of Tusayan the warriors are merely ornamental and dance bravely in some ceremonies, though at some critical period of invasion the necessity of drawing the "dead line" might fall upon the warrior society, as it has beforetimes.
When one day in the year 1540 the Spaniards halted under the Hopi towns there was consternation among the people at the sight of the armored conquerors and all held back in their houses for fear of them. Not so the warrior priests, who, striding down the trail, sprinkled a line of meal between the town and the Spaniards. According to immemorial custom this line of meal means that no one shall pass under penalty of death. One of the Spanish soldiers crossed the line and was killed by the warriors. Then the Spanish friar who came with the expedition in quest of new souls to save, cried out in effect, "What are we here for?"; a volley followed; the Hopi heard the report of a gun for the first time, and a number of them bit the dust. The remainder fled to the village, which was thoroughly frightened at the terrible visitation of bearded foes. On the next day a deputation came down to the Spanish camp bringing presents and offering humble submission to the white men.
More than three centuries later, a body of United States troops who were sent to coerce the Oraibi because they would not send their children to school, met with a similar experience, but by good management no blood was shed and the Indian leaders were exiled to California for a year or so. It is a curious circumstance that in our country where the past is forgotten so soon there should exist a people who remember and take warning from the events of almost four centuries ago.
On the rocks below Walpi there is a curiously carved record which has a good bit of war history connected with it. Hear Anowita, the Warrior Chief, tell the story: