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 [202] 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.
[203] 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 [204] 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 [205] 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 [206] 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 [207] powerful priesthood of the bow who are said to rule zu?i. 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 [208] 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:
very when ago [long time] the ute and apache were always wishing to kill the good people. they were very bad. at that time there was no trail up the great rocks to hopi-ki “walpi.” the people climbed up and down a long ladder which could be drawn up at night. i can show you where the ladder stood. it was bad for the people to be frightened all the time, so they sent messengers to ask the tewa from the great river to come and dwell at walpi to fight their enemies. the tewa came, many families of them; there was a battle at a spring north of walpi and the tewa killed as many utes as there are marks cut in the rock below the gap. the ute did not come back again. the tewa were given lands and springs to the eastward and their village was set at the head of the trail near the gap so that they could guard the mesa.
this is the origin of the tewa town of hano on the east mesa, through which everyone must go who seeks an easy entrance into walpi. one cannot avoid thinking that the recorder of the battle of the spring was not sparing with his list of dead ute, which he [209] scored with a series of lines cut in a smooth sandstone face.
the explorations in the buried towns of a section of the ancient hopi which extend in a line from the gila river to their present mesa homes show that for all these centuries they have been unwarlike people. there is the greatest scarcity of weapons, such as arrowheads and spearheads, and there are few war axes to be found among the numerous relics of peaceful pursuits, though wooden clubs were no doubt used. this accords with the situation of the towns on high, easily defended positions and the building of houses in clusters, the outer walls forming a fortification which defied assailants.
only once during their history did the hopi light the fires of war, and this was a religious conflict carried on in true indian fashion. about the beginning of the seventeenth century the spanish priests had gained a foothold in the town of awatobi, situated on a high mesa south of walpi. the awatobi hopi had prospered, and their valley, presenting to the south a marvelous panorama of the lava buttes, produced abundant food besides cotton for woven fabrics. awatobi was a large town of hopiland; the walls of the mission church still stand high enough to be a landmark miles away. the houses were four stories high and they were sufficient to accommodate 1,000 souls.
perhaps this prosperity caused envy; perhaps the [210] submission to the priests roused enmity; the other hopi said that the awatobi were witches, and one night they gathered to exterminate them. the awatobi men were conducting a ceremony in the underground rooms when blazing fagots were thrown down, followed by pepper pods, and they perished miserably. those who were captured in the houses were led out to a spring and massacred. the women and children, many of them, were taken to other hopi towns and their lives spared.
this massacre took place about the year 1700 and forms the darkest page in the history of tusayan; it shows also that the peaceful people can be overzealous at times. in times much before this, according to tradition, sikyatki, the home of the firewood people, who were the last potters of tusayan, was destroyed, as were, no doubt, other pueblos of tribes of different origin from the hopi.
the story of saalako, who descends from a survivor of the awatobi massacre, runs as follows:
the chiefs wiki and simo, and others, have told you their stories, and surely their ancestors were living here at walpi when awatobi was occupied. it was a large village, and many people lived there, and the village chief was called tapolo, but he was not at peace with his people, and there was quarreling and trouble. owing to this conflict only a little rain fell, but the land was fertile and fair harvests were still gathered. the awatobi men were bad [powako, sorcerers]. sometimes they went in small bands among [211] the fields of the other villagers and cudgeled any solitary workers they found. if they overtook any woman they ravished her, and they waylaid hunting parties, taking the game and sometimes killing the hunters. there was considerable trouble at awatobi, and tapolo sent to the oraibi chief asking him to bring his people and kill the evil awatobeans. the oraibis came and fought with them, and many were killed on both sides, but the oraibis were not strong enough to enter the village and were compelled to withdraw. on his way back, the oraibi chief stopped at walpi and talked with the chiefs there. said he, “i can not tell why tapolo wants the oraibis to kill his folks, but we have tried and have not succeeded very well. even if we did succeed, what benefit would come to us who live too far away to occupy the land? you walpi people live close to them and have suffered most at their hands; it is for you to try.” while they were talking tapolo had also come, and it was then decided that other chiefs of all the villages should convene at walpi to consult. couriers were sent out, and when all the chiefs had arrived tapolo declared that his people had become sorcerers [christians], and hence should all be destroyed.
it was then arranged that in four days large bands from all the other villages should prepare themselves, and assemble at a spring not far away from awatobi. a long while before this, when the spaniards lived there, they had built a wall on the side of the village that needed protection, and in this wall was a great, strong door. tapolo proposed that the assailants should come before dawn, and he would be at this door ready to admit them, and under this compact he returned to his village. during the fourth night after [212] this, as agreed upon, the various bands assembled at the deep gulch spring, and every man carried, besides his weapons, a cedar-bark torch and a bundle of greasewood. just before dawn they moved silently up to the mesa summit, and, going directly to the east side of the village they entered the gate, which opened as they approached. in one of the courts was a large kiva, and in it were a number of men engaged in sorcerer’s rites. the assailants at once made for the kiva, and plucking up the ladder, they stood around the hatchway, shooting arrows down among the entrapped occupants. in the numerous cooking pits fire had been maintained through the night for the preparation of food for a feast on the appointed morning, and from these they lighted their torches. great numbers of these and the bundles of greasewood being set on fire were then cast down the hatchway, and firewood from stacks upon the house terraces was also thrown into the kiva. the red peppers for which awatobi was famous were hanging in thick clusters along the fronts of the houses, and these they crushed in their hands and flung upon the blazing fire in the kiva to torment their blazing occupants. after this, all who were capable of moving were compelled to travel or drag themselves until they came to the sand hills of miconinovi, and there the final disposition of the prisoners was made.
my maternal ancestor had recognized a woman chief (mamzrau monwi), and saved her at the place of massacre called maski, and now he asked her whether she would be willing to initiate the women of walpi in the rites of the mamzrau. she complied, and thus the observance of the ceremony called mamzrauti came to the other villages. this mamzrau monwi had [213] no children and hence my maternal ancestor’s sister became chief, and her badge of office, or tiponi, came to me. some of the other awatobi women knew how to bring rain, and such of them as were willing to teach their songs were spared and went to different villages. the oraibi chief saved a man who knew how to cause the peach to grow, and that is why oraibi has such an abundance of peaches now. the miconinovi chief saved a prisoner who knew how to make the sweet, small-ear corn grow, and this is why it is more abundant there than elsewhere. all the women who knew prayers and were willing to teach them were spared, and no children were designedly killed, but were divided among the villages, most of them going to miconinovi. the remainder of the prisoners, men and women, were again tortured and dismembered and left to die on the sand hills, and there their bones are, and the place is called mastcomo, or death mound. this is the story of awatobi told by my people.[17]
[17] “preliminary account of an expedition to the cliff villages of the red rock country; and the tusayan ruins of sikyatki and awatobi, arizona, in 1895.” by j. walter fewkes, from the smithsonian report for 1895, pp. 568-569.
it is difficult to conceive of the conservatism of some of the older hopi. a glimpse of the clinging to the myth of the golden age is shown by the speech of the old chief nashihiptuwa, to whom the past was an ideal time of plenty and contentment under the bright sky of tusayan.
it was sunday and the camp by a peach orchard in a deep valley at the middle mesa was made lively [214] by the presence of about thirty indian laborers, mostly walpi “boys.” far above on the rocky mesas could be seen three hopi towns which bear names difficult of pronunciation, “the place of peaches” being most picturesque. to the west were innumerable barren hillocks, furrowed and gullied, rising toward the warm sandstone cliffs bearing the pueblos at the top. along the wash which from time immemorial had been carving out this wonderfully sculptured valley were the bean and melon patches of the indians, and on the higher ground dark green peach orchards. out of the mouth of the valley there stretched the wide plain, merging into the many-hued desert.
on this particular sunday the exploring party felt out of sorts. the indian workmen who had been digging in the ruins of an ancient pueblo near by had been served notice by the chief of the neighboring village to quit and a warning sent to our party in this wise, “go away, you are bad; you bring the wind and keep away the rains.” this is a grave charge in a country where winds disperse the thunder clouds with their precious burden before they reach the corn fields. no invention could devise a more damaging statement. the walpi, who are freer from superstition than most of the hopi, felt less desire to earn the coveted silver after this announcement. finally it was decided to ask nashihiptuwa to a council, talk it over with him and persuade him to withdraw his ultimatum. a [215] boy was dispatched to find him in his field where he was at work.
shortly the old chief of shumopavi appeared in the distance, clad in a breech-clout and with a hoe on his shoulder. he stopped outside the camp and put on an abbreviated cotton shirt, making himself somewhat more presentable. squatting on the sand with hands clasped around the knees, a favorite indian posture, the superannuated chief helped himself to tobacco and prepared for the argument with the circle of interested listeners. the day was very warm and a bank of clouds slowly coming up from the san francisco mountains seemed to promise rain which might convince the old man of the fallacy of his views. hence the progress of this rain storm was an object of uncommon solicitude to the explorers. dan, a school boy, who had been taught english, acted as interpreter.
after a few preliminary remarks in which the old chief craftily laid the blame of the edict to the chief of another town whom all the middle mesa people fear, the discussion began as to whether the contact with the white man had been beneficial or injurious to the hopi. since circumstances, geographical and governmental, have conspired to keep the hopi away from strong drink and other contaminations, the white man had a better case than usual. on his side the old chief mumbled that in the good old times the fields were more fruitful, the country covered with [216] grass waist high, there were no cares, the people were happy and long-lived, the gods propitious, urukiwa, the wind-god, did not drive away the rains; now all this was changed.
the walpi spokesman then in his turn pointed out the benefits which the white man had brought. said he:
“what were we before the white man from the far water came? half naked, working our scanty crops with hoes of wood, often suffering from famine as the traditions relate, without sheep and beasts of burden, without peach trees and many vegetables, without sugar, flour and tobacco, and driven from place to place in the deserts by our ancient enemies. where did you get your shirt, your cotton cloth, and your hoe? has not wasintona given us wagons and many other things, and protected us from the navaho and apache? the white man is pash lolomi, ‘very good.’”
the old man seemed vexed at the force of this argument, and he began a speech which lasted, it seemed to the listeners, about two hours. it is a loss to science that this speech could not be taken down. as near as could be gathered he began at the beginning when the people came up from the underworld, and traced the history through its various stages, detailing the events, weaving in ancient lore arguing, expanding, and digressing until he brought it down to the present.
as he drew his remarks to a close, a blast of wind charged with sand blew down the canvas sun-shade. the old chief found in this a corroboration of his contention, and, in the confusion, seized his hoe and a can of peaches, which was a present, and made off [217] angrily, firing as a parting shot, “go away; you are very bad!”
it is scarcely necessary to say that the next day, bright and early, witnessed the exodus of all strangers from that quiet valley near the middle mesa. nashihiptuwa, clad in his natural wrinkled bronze costume, was hoeing in his bean patch, looking neither to the right nor to the left.
