The Unwritten Literature of the Hopi Part 7

Far more often than otherwise, rain, either a sprinkle or a downpour, has come during or just at the close of the dance, and the people are thankful and hopeful, for this is often the first rain of the season.

The writer has herself stood soaked to the skin by a thunder shower that had been slowly gathering through the sultry afternoon and broke with dramatic effect during the ceremony. The Snake priests were noticeably affected by the incident and danced with actual fanatic frenzy.

Those who habitually attend this ceremony from Flagstaff and Winslow and other points within motoring distance (if there is any motoring distance these days) have long ago learned that they would better start for home immediately following the dance, not waiting for morning, else the dry washes may be running bank high by that time and prevent their getting away.

The writer has counted more than a hundred marooned cars lined up at Old Oraibi or Moencopi Wash, waiting, perhaps another twenty-four hours, for the ordinarily dry wash to become fordable. One will at least be impressed with the idea that the Snake Dance (a movable date set by the priests from the observation of shadows on their sacred rocks) comes just at the breaking of the summer drouth.

The writer has seen in the Snake Dance as many as nine groups of three, all circling the plaza at once. But in recent years the number is smaller, in some villages not more than four, for the old priests are dying off and not every young man who inherits the priesthood upon the death of his maternal uncle (priest) is willing to go on, though there are some novices almost every year. This year (1932) the eleven year old brother of a Hopi girl in the writer's employ went into his first snake dance, as a gatherer, and his sister (a school girl since six) was as solicitous as the writer whenever it was a rattler that Henry had to gather up. But we both felt that we must keep perfectly still, so our expressions of anxiety were confined to very low whispers. Henry was not bitten and if he had been he would not have died. It is claimed and generally believed that no priest has ever died from snake bite, and indeed they are seldom bitten. During the past twenty years the writer has twice seen a priest bitten by a rattler, once a very old priest and once a boy of fourteen. No attention was paid, and apparently nothing came of it.

Dr. Fewkes, Dr. Hough, and other authorities, in works already referred to, a.s.sert that the fangs of the snakes are not removed, nor are the snakes doped, nor "treated" in any way that could possibly render their poison harmless. Nor is it believed that the Hopi have any antidote for snake bite in their emetic or otherwise.

Does their belief make them fearless and likewise immune? Or are they wise in their handling of the snakes, so that danger is reduced to the vanis.h.i.+ng point? No one knows.

The writer has made no attempt to go into the very numerous minute details of this ceremony, such as the mixing of the liquid for snake was.h.i.+ng, the making of the elaborate sand painting for the Snake altar, or descriptions of various kinds of prayer-sticks and their specific uses. Authorities differ greatly on these points and each village uses somewhat different paraphernalia and methods of procedure. These details occupy hours and even days and are accompanied by much prayer and ceremonial smoking, and the sincerity and solemnity of it all are most impressive to any fair-minded observer.

The Hopi year is full of major and minor ceremonies, many of them as deeply religious as those already described at some length; others of a secular or social order, but even these are tinged with the religious idea and invariably based on tradition.

If many elements of traditional significance have been forgotten, as they undoubtedly have in some instances, nevertheless the thing is kept going according to traditional procedure, and the majority of the partic.i.p.ants believe it best to keep up these time-honored rituals.

Their migration tales, partly mythical, partly historical, relate many unhappy instances of famine, pestilence, and civil strife, which have been brought upon various clans because of their having neglected their old dances and ceremonies, and of relief and restored prosperity having followed their resumption. Once, bad behavior brought on a flood.

Here is the story, and it will explain at least partially, the ceremonial use of turkey feathers.

=A Flood and Turkey Feathers=

Turkey feathers are much prized for ceremonial uses today. If you want to carry a little present to a Hopi friend, particularly an old man, or an old woman, save up a collection of especially nice looking turkey feathers. They will be put to ceremonial uses and bring blessings to their owners.

Here is at least one of the legends back of the idea, as collected by Stephen and reported by Mindeleff.[31] The chief of the water people speaks:

"In the long ago, the Snake, Horn, and Eagle people lived here (in Tusayan), but their corn grew only a span high, and when they sang for rain the cloud sent only a thin mist. My people then lived in the distant Palatkiwabi in the South. There was a very bad old man there, who, when he met anyone, would spit in his face, blow his nose upon him, and rub ordure upon him. He ravished the girls and did all manner of evil. (Note: Other variants of the legend say the young men were mischievously unkind and cruel to the old men, rather than that an old man was bad. H.G.L.) Baholikonga (big water serpent deity) got angry at this and turned the world upside down, and water spouted up through the kivas and through the fireplaces in the houses. The earth was rent in great chasms, and water covered everything except one narrow ridge of mud; and across this the serpent deity told all the people to travel. As they journeyed across, the feet of the bad slipped and they fell into the dark water, but the good, after many days, reached dry land. While the water, rising around the village, came higher, the old people got on the tops of the houses, for they thought they could not struggle across with the younger people. But Baholikonga clothed them with the skins of turkeys, and they spread out their wings and floated in the air just above the surface of the water, and in this way they got across. There were saved of our people, Water, Corn, Lizard, Horned Toad, Sand, two families of Rabbit, and Tobacco. The turkeys' tails dragged in the water--hence the white on the turkey tail now. Wearing these turkey skins is the reason why old people have dewlaps under the chin like a turkey; it is also the reason why old people use turkey feathers at the religious ceremonies."

[Footnote 31: Mindeleff, Victor, Op. cit. (Myths by Cosmos Mindeleff after Stephen), p. 31.]

Hough[32] says that in accord with the belief that the markings on the tail feathers were caused by the foam and slime of an ancient deluge, the feathers are prescribed for all pahos, since through their mythical a.s.sociation with water they have great power in bringing rain.

[Footnote 32: Hough, Walter, Op. cit, p. 172.]

X. CEREMONIES FOR BIRTH, MARRIAGE, BURIAL

The story of the Hopi, who does every important thing in his life according to a traditional pattern and accompanied by appropriate religious ceremony, would not be complete without some account of birth, marriage, and burial. Not having seen these ceremonies, the writer offers the record of authoritative observers.

=Birth=

Babies are welcomed and well cared for in Hopiland, and now that the young mothers are learning to discard unripe corn, fruit, and melons as baby food, the infant mortality, once very high, is decreasing.

Natal ceremonies are considered important. G.o.ddard[33] gives us a brief picture of the usual proceedings: "The Hopi baby is first washed and dressed by its paternal grandmother or by one of her sisters. On the day of its birth she makes four marks with corn meal on the four walls of the room. She erases one of these on the fifth, tenth, fifteenth, and twentieth day of the child's life. On each of these days the baby and its mother have their heads washed with yucca suds. On the twentieth day, which marks the end of the lying-in period, the grandmother comes early, bathes the baby and puts some corn meal to its lips. She utters a prayer in which she requests that the child shall reach old age and in this prayer gives it a name. A few of the women members of the father's clan come in one at a time, bathe the baby and give it additional names.

After the names have been given, the paternal grandmother goes with the mother and the child to the eastern edge of the mesa, starting so as to arrive about sunrise. Two ears of white corn which have been lying near the child during the twenty days, are carried with them. The grandmother touches these ears of corn to the baby's breast and waves them to the east. She also strews corn meal toward the sun, placing a little on the child's mouth. As she does this, she prays, uttering in the course of her prayer the various names which have been given to the child. The mother goes through a similar ceremony and utters a similar prayer.

"The names given relate in some way to the clan of the one who bestows them. Of the various names given to the child, one, because it strikes the fancy of the family, generally sticks ... until the individual is initiated into some ceremony. At that time a new name is given."

For instance, a Hopi man of middle age, known to the writer as George (school name), tells her that his adopted father belonged to the Tobacco Clan, so the name selected for him by the paternal aunts was "Sackongsie" or "green tobacco plant with the blossoms on." Bessie, born in the same family, was named "Sackhongeva" or "green tobacco plant standing straight." The nine month's baby daughter of a Hopi girl once in the employ of the writer is merrily called "Topsy," although formally named Christine in honor of the school superintendent's wife. Her mother explains that the father's clan is Tobacco, and the aunts named this baby "Topt-si," "the red blossom on top of the tobacco plant," which sounds so exactly like Topsy that the family sense of humor has permitted the nickname. One of the writer's Hopi girls was named "two straight, tall rows of corn," another, "Falling Snow." These pretty names, too long for convenience, are nevertheless cherished, as a matter of sentiment, by their owners.

[Footnote 33: G.o.ddard, P.E., Indians of the Southwest: N.Y. Amer. Mus.

Nat. Hist., Handbook Series No. 2, 1921.]

=Marriage=

The following is Hough's[34] description of the wedding ceremony at Oraibi: "When the young people decide to be married, the girl informs her mother, who takes her daughter, bearing a tray of meal made from white corn, to the house of the bridegroom where she is received by his mother with thanks. During the day the girl must labor at the mealing stones, grinding the white meal, silent and unnoticed; the next day she must continue her task.... On the third day of this laborious trial she grinds the dark blue corn which the Hopi call black, no doubt, glad when the evening brings a group of friends, laden with trays of meal of their own grinding as presents, and according to the custom, these presents are returned in kind, the trays being sent back next day heavy with choice ears of corn.

"After this three days' probation ... comes the wedding. Upon that day the mother cuts the bride's front hair at the level of her chin and dresses the longer locks in two coils, which she must always wear in token that she is no longer a maiden. At the dawn of the fourth day, the relatives of both families a.s.semble, each one bringing a small quant.i.ty of water in a vessel. The two mothers pound up roots of the yucca, used as soap, and prepare two bowls of foaming suds. The young man kneels before the bowl prepared by his future mother-in-law, and the bride before the bowl of the young man's mother, and their heads are thoroughly washed and the relatives take part by pouring handsful of suds over the bowed heads of the couple. While this ceremonial ... goes on ... a great deal of jollity ensues. When the head-was.h.i.+ng is over, the visitors rinse the hair of the couple with the water they have brought, and return home. Then the bridal couple take each a pinch of corn meal and leaving the house go silently to the eastern side of the mesa on which the pueblo of Oraibi stands. Holding the meal to their lips, they cast the meal toward the dawn, breathing a prayer for a long and prosperous life, and return to the house, husband and wife.

"The ceremony over, the mother of the bride (Note: All other authorities say groom, H.G.L.) builds a fire under the baking stone, while the daughter prepares the batter and begins to bake a large quant.i.ty of paper bread.... The wedding breakfast follows closely on the heels of the wedding ceremony and the father of the young man must run through the pueblo with a bag of cotton, handsful of which he gives to the relatives and friends, who pick out the seeds and return the cotton to him. This cotton is for the wedding blankets and sash which are to be the trousseau of the bride....

"A few days later the crier announces the time for the spinning of the cotton for the bride's blanket. This takes place in the kivas, where usually all the weaving is done by the men, and with jollity and many a story the task is soon finished. The spun cotton is handed over to the bridegroom as a contribution from the village, to be paid for like everything else Hopi, by a sumptuous feast, which has been prepared by the women for the spinners. Perhaps ten sage-brush-fed sheep and goats, tough beyond reason, are being softened in a stew, consisting mainly of corn; stacks of paper bread have been baked, various other dishes have been concocted, and all is ready when the crier calls in the hungry mult.i.tude....

"With the spun cotton, serious work begins for the bridegroom and his male relatives, lasting several weeks. A large white blanket ... and a smaller one must be woven and a reed mat in which the blankets are to be rolled. A white sash with long fringe and a pair of moca.s.sins, each having half a deerskin for leggings, like those worn by the women of the Rio Grande pueblos, complete the costume. The blankets must have elaborate ta.s.sels at the four corners. (Note: Representing rain falling from the white cloud blanket. H.G.L.)

"Shortly before sunrise, the bride, arrayed in her finery, performs the last act in the drama, called 'going home.' Up to this time the bride has remained in the house of her husband's people. Wearing the large white blanket, picturesquely disposed over her head, and carrying the small blanket wrapped in the reed mat in her hands, she walks to her mother's house ... and the long ceremony is over ... for in this land of women's rights the husband must live with his wife's relatives."

[Footnote 34: Hough, Walter, Op. cit, p. 123.]

The bride may not appear at a public ceremonial dance until the following July, at the Kachina Farewell ceremony, when all the brides of the year turn out in their lovely wedding blankets and white leggings, the only time this blanket is ever worn after the wedding (during life), save one the naming ceremony of her first child.

It becomes her winding sheet when at death she wears it in her grave, then after four days, she takes it from her shoulders and uses it as a magic carpet when, having reached the edge of the Grand Canyon, she steps out upon her ceremonial blanket, and like a white cloud it descends with her to Maski, the underworld paradise of the Hopi.

Are the Hopi married in this way today? Most certainly. Figure 12 shows a Hopi girl who worked for the writer for three summers. She is a fine, intelligent girl, having gone more than halfway through high school before she returned to her home on Second Mesa to live. This is her wedding picture taken last year at the moment of her "going home," after just such a wedding ceremonial as described above.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Figure 12.--A Hopi Bride.

--Photo by Colton.]

A letter from friends of the writer states that her baby is just now going through his natal ceremonies in the good old Hopi way. If the Snake Dance is continued till he grows up--it makes one shudder to think of it--he is in line to be a Snake priest!

=Burial=

Here we have the account of G.o.ddard:[35] "When an adult dies, the nearest relatives by blood wash the head, tie a feather offering to the hair so that it will hang over the forehead, wrap the body in a good robe and carry it to one of the graveyards which are in the valleys near the mesas. The body is buried in a sitting position so that it faces east. This is done within a few hours after death has occurred. The third night, a bowl containing some food, a prayer-stick offering, and a feather and string, are carried to the grave. The string is placed so that it points from the grave to the west. The next morning, the fourth, the soul is supposed to rise from the grave and proceed in the direction indicated by the string, where it enters the 'skeleton house.' This is believed to be situated somewhere near the Canyon of the Colorado."

[Footnote 35: G.o.ddard, P.E., Op. cit.]

Any bodies of young children who have not yet been initiated into any fraternity are not buried in the ground, but in a crevice of rock somewhere near the mother's home and covered with stones. A string is left hanging out, pointing to the home of the family. The spirit of the child is believed to return and to be re-born in the next child born in the family, or to linger about till the mother dies and then to go with her to the underworld.