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BANCROFT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 O 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
9 jjf 
 
 I 
 
The Moki Snake Dance 
 
 <A popular account of thai unparalleled 
 
 dramatic pagan ceremony of the 
 
 Pueblo Indians of Tusayan, 
 
 (Arizona, 'with incidental 
 
 mention of their life 
 
 and customs. 
 
 BY WALTER HOUGH, PH. D 
 
 Sixty-four Half-tone Illustrations from 
 Special Photographs. 
 
 THIRTY-SECOND THOUSAND. 
 
 Published by the Passenger Department 
 
 SANTA FE ROUTE, 
 
 J900 
 
Bancroft 
 
 RACER 
 
 JUST at the dawn of an August morning 
 groups of eager watchers sit along the 
 precipitous cliffs or slopes of a mesa 
 bearing on its ^rest a Moki village. All 
 faces are turned in one direction ; the gray 
 1 ' ht becomes many-hued before the near 
 ~a}j^. 4~ ~* *3r A murmur passes 
 
 through t. >wd , distance a number 
 
 of dark forms are seen running toward the 
 mes%; nearer they come, pursued by boys and 
 girls with wands of cornstalk, and run up the 
 tortuous trail as though on level ground. As 
 the sun appears above the eastern horizon the 
 winner passes over the roof of the Snake kiva and the 
 day of the Snake dance has begun with the Snake race. 
 The runners deposit the melon vines, corn and other 
 products they have carried from the fields, and the 
 panting victor gets for his prize the glory of winning. 
 As in the Greek games, the Mokis honor the swift 
 runner. 
 
 As the day wears on the interest centers in the kivas, 
 where swarthy priests are bringing to a close the myste- 
 rious rites begun days before, when the astronomer Sun 
 priest had directed the town crier to announce the com- 
 mencement of the ceremony. Since that time the priests 
 had descended into the kiva, and a fleet runner had each 
 day carried plumed prayer-sticks to the distant springs 
 and shrines. Four days to the north, west, south and 
 east snakes had been hunted. Then came the Antelope 
 dance on the evening before the Snake dance; the sixteen 
 songs and drama were enacted in the kiva while the 
 
WOLPI, THE PLACE OF THE GAP." 
 
 Snake race was being run, and the time *^K 
 
 is now ripe for the final spectacle. The 
 
 snakes have been washed and placed in jars and 
 
 the costuming begins. Long-haired, painted priests in 
 
 scanty attire emerge from the kivas and go on various 
 
 errands. Visitors and Mokis examine one another with 
 
 mutual curiosity; the children are having a jolly time, 
 
 for the Snake dance conies in their village but once in 
 
 two years, and white visitors are sure to bring candy to 
 
 put a climax to the stuffing of new corn, melons and 
 
 other good things of August. 
 
 Other dances of the Mokis are more pleasing, as the 
 Kachina dances, with their mirth and music, or the 
 Flute dance, full of color and ceremony, but the Snake 
 dance attracts with a potent fascination. One gets so 
 interested in the progress of the dance that the antici- 
 pated element of horror does not appear amid the 
 rhythmic movement and tragic gestures of the dancers 
 with here and there the sinuous undulation of a venom- 
 ous rattlesnake. Along the sky-line of the houses and 
 on every available foothold and standing place are spec- 
 tators. At Wolpi, the top of the mushroom-shaped 
 rock is a favorite seat. The crowd is hardly less inter- 
 esting than the dancers. Everyone, except the white 
 visitor, is in gala costume, Moki and Navajo vying in 
 gaudy colors. The Moki maidens have their hair done 
 
up in great whorls of shining blackness at the sides of 
 their heads. The women, who have brushed away the 
 evidences of preparation for the feast to follow the dance, 
 now appear at their best, and the children dash around, 
 consuming unlimited slices of watermelon. Mormons, 
 be-pistoled cowboys, prospectors, army officers, teachers 
 from the schools, scientists, photographers, and tourists 
 in the modern costume suitable for camp life, mingle 
 with the Indian spectators in motley confusion. Not 
 less than one hundred white people witnessed the Snake 
 dance at Wolpi in 1897. Bach year there is a larger 
 attendance. 
 
 If the visitor will look around he will see that at one 
 side of the dance plaza there is a bower of green cotton- 
 wood branches, the kisi, where the snakes are to be kept 
 in readiness during the dance. The descending sun 
 casts a long shadow eastward from the kisi when a priest 
 enters the plaza with a bag containing the reptiles and 
 
 quickly disappears 
 among the branches. 
 This is the man who 
 hands the snakes 
 
 MOKI CHILDREN. 
 
 out to the 
 dancers 
 through a 
 small open- 
 ing in the 
 
front of the kisi. The expectancy now 
 is intense. All eyes are fixed in the 
 direction from which the priests will 
 appear. The sun sinks lower and the 
 evening colors steal into the landscape, 
 but no one notices them. 
 
 ' ' Here they come ! ' ' The grand 
 entry of the Antelope priests causes a 
 sensation. With bare feet, and their 
 semi-nude bodies streaked with white 
 paint ; a band of white on the chin 
 from mouth to ear, rattles of tortoise 
 shell tied to the knee, embroidered 
 kilts of white cotton fastened around 
 the loins, necklaces of 
 shell and turquoise, and 
 fox skins hanging behind 
 from the belt, these priests 
 present a startling though 
 not unattractive appear- 
 ance. At the head of the 
 file comes the Antelope 
 Chief bearing his tiponi or sacred badge across his left 
 arm. Next comes the bearer of the medicine bowl. All 
 the other priests carry a small rattle in either hand. 
 With stately mien, and looking to neither right nor left, 
 the Antelope priests pass four times around the plaza to 
 the left, each sprinkling sacred meal and stamping 
 violently upon the plank in the ground in front of the 
 kisi. The hole in the middle of the plank is the opening 
 into the under-world and the dancers stamp upon it to 
 inform the spirits of their ancestors that a ceremony is 
 in progress. Fortunate is the man who breaks the board 
 with his foot ! When the circuit is made, the Antelope 
 priests line up in front of the kisi facing outward ; tlu-tv 
 is a hush and the Snake priests enter. 
 
 l&9f>,by tf. W harton James. {/</ />;/ j>-- 
 ANTELOPE PRIEST. 
 
The grand entry of the Snake priests is dramatic to 
 the last degree. With majestic strides they hasten into 
 the plaza, every attitude full of energy and fierce 
 determined purpose. The costume of the priests of the 
 sister society of Antelopes is gay in comparison with 
 that of the Snake priests. Their bodies rubbed with 
 red paint, their chins blackened and outlined with a 
 white stripe, their dark red kilts and moccasins, their 
 barbaric ornaments, give the Snake priests a most 
 somber and diabolical appearance. Around the plaza, 
 by a wider circuit than the Antelopes, they go striking 
 the sipapu plank with the foot and fiercely leaping 
 upon it with wild gestures. Four times the circuit is 
 made ; then a line is formed facing the line of the 
 Antelopes, who cease shaking their rattles which simu- 
 late the warning note of the rattlesnake. A moment's 
 pause and the rattles begin again and a deep humming 
 chant accompanies them. The priests sway from side 
 
 FLUTE DANCE, ORAIBI. Higgins, plioto 
 
to side, sweeping their eagle-feather snake whips toward 
 the ground ; the song grows louder and the lines sway 
 backward and forward toward each other like two long, 
 undulating serpents. The bearer of the medicine walks 
 back and forth between the lines and sprinkles the 
 charm liquid to the compass points. 
 
 All at once the Snake line breaks up into groups of 
 three, composed of the "carrier" and two attendants. 
 The song becomes more animated and the groups dance, 
 or rather hop, around in a circle in front of the kisi, one 
 attendant (the "hugger") placing his arm over the 
 shoulder of the "carrier " and the other (the " gatherer ") 
 walking behind. In all this stir and excitement it has 
 been rather difficult to see why the " carrier " dropped on 
 his knees in front of the kisi ; a moment later he is seen 
 to rise with a squirming snake, which he places midway 
 in his mouth, and the trio dance around the circle, fol- 
 lowed by other trios bearing hideous snakes. The 
 ' ' hugger ' ' waves his feather wand before the snake to 
 attract its attention, but the reptile inquiringly thrusts 
 
 its head against the 
 "carrier's" breast and 
 cheeks and twists its 
 body into knots and 
 coils. On come the 
 demoniacal groups, to 
 music now deep and 
 resonant and now ris- 
 ing to a frenzied pitch, 
 accompanied by the un- 
 ceasing sibilant rattles 
 of the Antelope chorus. 
 Four times around and 
 the "carrier" opens 
 his mouth and drops 
 the snake to the ground 
 
 )RS WOLPI. 
 
KACHINA DANCERS. 
 
 and the "gatherer" dextrously 
 picks it up, adding in the same 
 manner from time to time other 
 snakes, till he may have quite a 
 bundle composed of rattlesnakes, 
 bull snakes and arrow snakes. 
 The bull snakes are large and 
 showy, and impressive out of 
 proportion to their harmfulness. 
 When all the snakes have been 
 duly danced around the ring, 
 and the nerve tension is at its 
 highest pitch, there is a pause ; 
 the old priest advances to an 
 open place and sprinkles sacred 
 meal on the ground, outlining a 
 ring with the six compass points, 
 
 while the Snake priests gather around. At a given 
 
 signal the snakes are thrown on the meal drawing and 
 
 a wild scramble for them ensues, amid 
 
 a rain of spittle from the spectators on 
 
 the walls above. Only an instant and 
 
 the priests start up, each with one or 
 
 more snakes; away they dart for the 
 
 trail to carry the rain - bringing mes- 
 sengers to their native hiding places. 
 
 They dash down the mesa and reappear 
 
 far out on the trails below, running 
 
 like the wind with their grewsome bur- 
 dens. The Antelope priests next march 
 
 gravely around the plaza four times, 
 
 thumping the sunken plank, and file 
 
 out to their kiva. The ceremony is 
 
 done. 
 
 Stay ! there is another scene in 
 
 this drama which may seem a fitting 
 
 NAVAJO SPECTATOR. 
 
termination. Whoever wishes may go to look on, but 
 not everyone goes. The Snake priests return, go to 
 the kiva and remove all their trappings, come out 
 to the edge of the cliff where the medicine women 
 have brought great bowls of a dark liquid brewed 
 in secrecy and mystery. No one knows the herbs and 
 spells in this liquid but Salako of Wolpi, the head 
 Snake woman of the Moki pueblos. The priests drink 
 of the medicine ; in about forty-five seconds it sees 
 the light of day again. They repeat the opera- 
 tion, and so goes on a scene that beggars descrip- 
 tion. Even scientific equanimity cannot observe with- 
 out qualms that this is a purification ceremony, carried 
 out by the priests with the ruthlessness of devotion. 
 This feature of the dance, however, will never become 
 popular. Various explanations of the purpose of the 
 medicine have been current. It has been supposed, 
 among others, to be the antidote for the venom of the 
 rattlesnake. Probably it is only for ceremonial purifica- 
 tion ; at any rate it is a good preparation for the great 
 
 feast following the 
 
 For this feast 
 
 come bearing trays 
 
 dance. 
 
 fair maidens and trim women 
 of gala bread, well cooked meat, 
 corn pudding and other dain- 
 ties and substantials in pro- 
 fusion. That night there is 
 feasting and every Moki 
 gets what the cow- 
 boys call a " mortal 
 gorge." Next day 
 and the day follow- 
 ing the boys and 
 girls have great sport 
 in the pueblos. A 
 young man will take 
 a ribbon, a piece of 
 
 DANCE ROCK AND KI8I. 
 
MOKI GIRLS. 
 
 Hillers, photo. 
 
Copyright, 1896, by G. Wharton James. 
 
 ANTELOPE CIRCUIT, ORAIBI. 
 
 pottery or any other object and appear on the house- 
 tops or street, only to be set upon and chased by the 
 girls bent on securing the prize. 
 
 Many questions suggest themselves to everyone who 
 witnesses the Snake dance. Some do not seem to be 
 very easy to answer, and some are those which, perhaps, 
 the wisest and most lore-learned priest cannot answer 
 now after the lapse of centuries since 
 the ceremony began. Still, most of us 
 can leave them for the scien- 
 tists to pore over. 
 What everyone wants 
 to know 
 
 CIRCUIT OF ANTELOPE PRIESTS, WOLPI. 
 
is whether the snakes are drugged or have their fangs 
 removed, and, if not, whether they ever bite their captors. 
 Men who have attended as many as ten dances in various 
 Moki pueblos say that they have never seen a dancer 
 bitten by a poisonous snake, while others have seen a 
 reptile strike or perhaps fasten upon the hand of a 
 dancer and require to be shaken off. In the present 
 state of the question everyone must judge for himself. 
 One thing is very certain, the Mokis are extremely care- 
 ful with a poisonous snake. At Wolpi, in 1897, two 
 
 ENTRANCE OF SNAKE PRIESTS, WOLPI. 
 
 large rattlesnakes, which from their age had perhaps 
 been danced around the ring before, coiled together and 
 for a time refused to move, almost breaking up the per- 
 formance. An experienced snake driver at length suc- 
 ceeded in making them uncoil, when they were easily 
 picked up. This is thought to be the secret of handling 
 the rattlesnake ; never to handle him when he is coiled, 
 for it is said that this serpent cannot strike without 
 
 13 
 
 n, photo. 
 
coiling. Then, too, the snakes may have been some- 
 what subjugated by their bewildering treatment, since 
 they were dragged from their haunts by naked men 
 armed with hoes and sticks, thrust with other snakes 
 into a bag and brought to the kivas, and afterward 
 washed and uncivilly flung about. 
 
 The Snake dance is exciting enough, but the two or 
 three men who have witnessed the sinister rites called 
 ' ' snake washing ' ' in the dark kiva tell a story which 
 makes the blood curdle. Doctor Fewkes relates this 
 experience as follows : 
 
 "The Snake priests, who stood by the snake jars which were 
 in the east corner of the room, began to take out the reptiles, and 
 stood holding several of them in their hands behind Su-pe-la, so 
 that my attention was distracted by them. Su-pe-la then 
 prayed, and after a short interval two rattlesnakes were 
 handed him, after which other venomous snakes were 
 passed to the others, 
 and each of the six 
 priests who sat around 
 the bowl held two rat- 
 tlesnakes by the necks 
 with their heads ele- 
 vated above the bowl. 
 A low noise from the 
 rattles of the priests, 
 
 CIRCUIT OF SNAKE PRIE8T8, WOUPI. 
 
Copyright, 1896, by G. Wliarton James. 
 
 ANTELOPES IN LINE, ORAIBI. 
 
 Used by permission. 
 
 which shortly after was accompanied by a melodious hum by 
 all present, then began. The priests who held the snakes beat 
 time up and down above the liquid with the reptiles, which, 
 although not vicious, wound their bodies around the arms of the 
 holders. The song went on and frequently changed, growing 
 louder and wilder, until it burst forth into a fierce, blood-cur- 
 dling yell, or war-cry. At this moment the heads of the snakes 
 were thrust several times into the liquid, so that even parts 
 of their bodies were submerged, and were then drawn out, 
 not having left the hands of the priests, and forcibly thrown 
 across the room upon the sand mosaic, knocking down the 
 crooks and other objects placed about it. As they fell on the sand 
 picture three Snake priests stood in readiness, and while the rep- 
 tiles squirmed about or coiled for defense, these men with their 
 snake whips brushed them back and forth in the sand of the altar. 
 The excitement which accompanied this ceremony cannot be 
 adequately described. The low song, breaking into piercing 
 shrieks, the red-stained singers, the snakes thrown by the chiefs, 
 and the fierce attitudes of the reptiles as they landed on the sand 
 mosaic, made it next to impossible to sit calmly down and quietly 
 
 In 
 
LINE-UP BEFORE KlSI, WOLPI. 
 
 note the events which followed one after another in quick succes- 
 sion. The sight haunted me for weeks afterwards, and I can never 
 forget this wildest of all the aboriginal rites of this strange people, 
 which showed no element of our present civilization. It was a per- 
 formance which might have been expected in the heart of Africa 
 rather than in the American Union, and certainly one could not 
 realize that he was in the United States at the end of the nineteenth 
 century. The low weird song continued while other rattlesnakes 
 were taken in the hands of the priests, and as the song rose again 
 to the wild war-cry, these snakes were also plunged into the liquid 
 and thrown upon the writhing mass which now occupied the place 
 of the altar. Again and again this was repeated until all the snakes 
 had been treated in the same way, and reptiles, fetiches, crooks 
 and sand were mixed together in one confused mass. As the 
 excitement subsided and the snakes crawled to the corners of the 
 kiva, seeking vainly for protection, they were again pushed back 
 in the mass, and brushed together in the sand in order that their 
 
 If, 
 
bodies might be thoroughly dried. Every snake in the collection 
 was thus washed, the harmless varieties being oathed after the 
 venomous. In the destruction of the altar by the reptiles the snake 
 ti-po-ni stood upright until all had been washed, and then one of 
 the priests turned it on its side, as a sign that the observance had 
 ended. The low, weird song of the Snake men continued, and 
 gradually died away until there was no sound but the warning 
 rattle of the snakes, mingled with that of the rattles in the hands 
 of the chiefs, and finally the motion of the snake 
 whips ceased, and all was silent." * 
 
 CHANTING BEFORE KISI, WOLPI. 
 
 Vroman, photo. 
 
 The Mokis have an antidote for snake bite made from 
 the root of a plant called by botanists Gaura parviflora . 
 They do not know the white man's fiery antidote and 
 panacea, but expert opinion declares that one remedy is 
 as good as the other. Snakes are scarce in Tusayan, 
 although they seem plentiful at the Snake dances. Still, 
 
 *The Snake Ceremony at Wolpi, Jour. Am. EJth. & Arch., Vol. 
 IV, pp. 84, 85. 
 
 17 
 
it requires four 
 days of vigilant 
 search to the four 
 points of the com- 
 pass to procure 
 enough. Some 
 years ago, a Wolpi 
 farmer, while in 
 his cornfield, was 
 bitten on the hand 
 by a rattlesnake, 
 
 and the combined efforts of the Indian doctors and 
 some white people who happened to be near by were 
 applied for his relief. After a great deal of suffering 
 he recovered. Soon after, the Snake Society informed 
 him that he must become a Snake priest, 
 because he was favored by the rattlesnake. 
 Perhaps Intiwa, for that was his name, did \r 
 
 Copyright, 1896, by G. Whatton James. Used by per 
 FACE VIEW, SNAKE PRIESTS, ORAIBI. 
 
 CHANTING BEFORE KISI, ORAIBI. 
 
 M.II,,!.; ,,>,/<>. 
 
TRIO OF DANCERS. 
 
 not see where the favor came 
 in, but he was duly installed 
 as a member of the Society. 
 Turning now from this 
 strange, nerve -wrenching 
 scene, which many have 
 crossed the mysterious 
 Painted Desert north of the 
 Little Colorado river to wit- 
 ness, some general account 
 of the Mokis should be inter- 
 esting. Perched upon high, 
 warm -tinted sandstone 
 mesas, narrow like the decks 
 of great Atlantic liners, are their clustered dwellings, 
 scarcely to be distinguished from the living rock 
 upon which they rest. High up above the plain, 
 viewing from all sides an almost illimitable distance, 
 basking in the brilliant sunshine from sunrise to sunset, 
 bathed in the pure, life-giving air, the Mokis, or " good 
 people,"* as they delight to call themselves, must feel 
 freedom in its truest sense. Here is isolation. In the 
 long centuries the Mokis have dwelt here they have had 
 few visitors. The all-venturing Spaniards, in their six- 
 teenth century quest for the mythical 
 doorposts of gold set with jewels, were 
 way-weary long before their toilsome 
 journey brought them to the base of the 
 giant mesas. In this semi-desert, far out 
 of the trail traveled by friends and 
 foes, the Mokis found the desired 
 
 * The name by which these people are 
 known among themselves is Hopi, whose 
 signification is as stated. Moki is a derisive 
 name, originally applied by outsiders, 
 which unfortunately seems fated to 
 stick. 
 
 19 
 
 Copyright, 1896, by 
 F. H. Maude, 
 
 Used by permission. 
 DANCERS, ORAIBI. 
 
seclusion and peace after the harrying of the Apache 
 and Ute, whose hand was against every man. 
 
 Perhaps the word mysterious as applied to the desert 
 may need explanation to city-dwellers and those who are 
 accustomed to limited horizons. In the desert a new sen- 
 sation comes to those who have exhausted the repertory of 
 sensations at the end of a rapid century. In the desert 
 the desert is supreme. The sense of freedom and exhil- 
 aration, which everyone must feel, is personal ; the des- 
 ert is titanic; gradually it com- 
 pels awe and wonder. A feeling 
 
 Copyright, 1896, by F. H. Maude. 
 
 THE DANCE, ORAIBI. 
 
 Ued by permission. 
 
 of vastness, almost infinity, dawns in the mind with 
 an impression of mystery. Here thousands of square 
 miles stretch in iridescent beauty to the violet horizon 
 or. to the velvety blue mountains; nearer stand the 
 strange forms of the volcanic buttes ; across the sand 
 plain the purple cloud shadows float, attended by 
 the tawny sand whirlwinds ; a distant thunderstorm 
 marches along, dwarfed in all its energy to a small part 
 of the scene. The morning and evening reveal new 
 
coloring and beauty beyond the power of pen or pencil 
 to depict. With the night new experiences come in the 
 desert. In the clear air of Tusayan myriads of stars are 
 revealed. It is not often the good fortune of the astron- 
 omer to enjoy such skies for observation. Stars of low 
 magnitude, rarely seen elsewhere, are easily found in 
 the night heavens of Tusayan. It may seem like 
 romancing, but it is true, the powdery, misty starlight 
 is strong enough to admit of reading the dial of a watch 
 and to distinguish the outline of mesas and buttes miles 
 away. Then the silence of the night is overpowering. 
 Not a cricket chirps and no animal disturbs the almost 
 oppressive silence. 
 
 When the conquistadores came to Tusayan, some 
 three hundred and fifty years ago, they found the Mokis 
 high up on the mesas, but not on the rocky tops where 
 the towns are now built. This meeting of the Conquerors 
 
 THE DANCE, WOLPI. 
 
 Vrotnan, photo. 
 
FOOD BRINGING. 
 
 Voth, pltoto. 
 
 and the Mokis has always 
 seemed a picturesque sub- 
 ject. The Spaniards re- 
 corded their experiences 
 and the Mokis relate the 
 traditions of the experi- 
 ences of their forefathers 
 passed along by word of 
 mouth, accurate as if 
 written down. Beneath 
 the town then perched 
 on the higher slope of 
 the Wolpi mesa, came a band of horsemen, some clad 
 in armor and warlike trappings badly damaged and 
 battered by wear and tear, but impressive to the 
 Indian, who for the first time saw the white man. 
 Perhaps the Mokis were not very friendly. The war- 
 rior priest strode down the trail followed by his band 
 and drew a line of sacred meal across the path to 
 the town, over which, according to immemorial custom, 
 no one might come with impunity. This "dead line " 
 brought death instead to the Mokis. At the fire of the 
 dreadful guns they fled up the narrow trail to refuge. 
 The Spaniards dared not follow up the rocky way, but 
 camped for the night by a spring. In the morning the 
 timorous Mokis came down with presents of food and 
 woven stuffs. This is the first picture of the Mokis of 
 Wolpi, who were thus introduced to the proud Castiliau, 
 bent on reaching new lands to despoil. Later came a 
 new company, bringing priests to turn the peaceful peo- 
 ple from their native superstitions. When the town of 
 Wolpi burst upon their view it was a new town, built on 
 the highest summit of the mesa ! The timid people had 
 moved up from the lower point, taking with them house 
 l>eanis, stones, and every other portion of their dwell- 
 ings. The trails were rendered inaccessible and the 
 
people ascended and descended by a movable ladder. 
 Still they received the priests and submitted to the 
 enforced labor of building a church, carrying, with 
 infinite toil, beams of cottonwood from the Little Colo- 
 rado. Many of these carved beams now support the 
 roofs of the pagan kivas. Later, when the oppression 
 grew too great, the Mokis committed one of the few 
 overt acts which may be charged against them. They 
 threw the "long gowns," as they called the friars, over 
 the cliffs, and cut loose once for all from the foreign 
 religion. This ended the contact of the whites with the 
 Mokis for long years until, at last, the Government took 
 them under its protection. 
 
 But the Moki had immemorial enemies, as has been 
 hinted. The Apache, who centuries ago came out of the 
 high north, a rude and fierce being, incapable of high 
 things, is responsible for the acropolis towns all along 
 the trails by which the Moki clans came to Tusayan. 
 The history of the wanderings of the Moki to this land 
 of scant promise would be interesting if all the threads 
 
 Copyright, 1S96. by G. WTiarton James. 
 
 SNAKES, IN KIVA. 
 
Maude, photo. 
 TIPONI. 
 
 could be gathered together. The story 
 goes somewhat in this fashion : Long 
 ago how long one may guess as well 
 as another and get as near to it as the 
 Mokis, who say it was "very, very 
 when " groups of Indians belonging to 
 the great Uto-Aztecan stock and other 
 pueblo stocks lived over all this region. 
 The limits of this vast region are more 
 accurately found in the States of Utah, 
 Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona and 
 reach over into Mexico. This ruin- 
 strewn expanse tells the story of many 
 wanderings and movings about, through 
 the forgotten years, before the pueblo 
 peoples were settled in the places where 
 the white man found them. The re- 
 mains of ancient monarchies are, per- 
 haps, more interesting from their connection with the 
 world's history, but there is a fascination also in 
 the leveled cities of the Southwest, under which lie 
 the rude records of the ancients of the New World. 
 In the course of time and through various vicissitudes 
 of war, famine or disease, some of these groups were 
 broken up and the survivors forced to seek refuge 
 in other tribes of their kin. This has been going on for 
 millenniums. The organization of these tribes was 
 rather loose, and consisted of clans which are made up 
 of those related by blood ; marriages were, as they are 
 now, prohibited between members of the same clan. 
 This was another cause of mixture. So it happened 
 that in our deserts there was a wandering of the ancient 
 people like that of the chosen people, but their simple 
 clothing waxed old, their towns waxed old, and their 
 mother corn only blessed them by hard labor. It would 
 seem at the first glance that some great unrest filled the 
 
WOLPI, FROM BELOW. 
 
 Hillers, photo. 
 
 breasts of the ancient pueblo dwellers and forced them 
 to forever move on. Ruins without number attest the 
 flux of population over an area in which the countries 
 of the ancients of the Old World would be lost. Still 
 these ruins are not without order; the clans moved 
 along together in those dark ages, so that the ruins are 
 found in groups. Thus if we hark back on the trail by 
 which some of the clans came from the south to Tusa- 
 yan, the Mogollon Mountains at Chavez Pass will show 
 
 TWIN BUTTES AND CLOUDS. 
 
 Yroman > 
 
two large ruins to which Moki tradition gives the name 
 of "the place of the antelopes." Thirty-two miles to 
 the north is the next stopping place, and the clans must 
 have prospered in the valley of the Little Colorado at 
 Winslow, for here are the ruins of five towns, called by 
 those versed in the lore of the past Homolobi, or " the 
 place of the two views." The grand panorama of the 
 Moki buttes seen from "the place of the antelopes" 
 was still visible from Homolobi, though at a lower view- 
 point. Long before the conquistadores came to ravage 
 the New World, the people of Homolobi had abandoned 
 their towns and taken up their weary journey to Tusa- 
 yan, where now are seven towns of the " good people." 
 It is interesting to find that in Wolpi different clans live 
 in different sections of the town just as they had camped 
 together in the old days, and in the order in which they 
 came from their desert wandering. This journey of 
 some of the clans of Mokis began much farther away 
 than the two faint points on the dim Mogollones where 
 antelopes range to this day. To say that the Mokis 
 belong by language to the great Uto-Aztecan stock 
 means that in bygone times they were in contact with 
 the Aztecs or may even have been a branch of that far- 
 famed people. Just here, if it might be possible to correct 
 
AN ARIZONA CAMP. 
 
 the popular hallucination in reference to the Aztecs, 
 it would be well to say that that mysterious and ever- 
 vanishing people were nothing more nor less than Amer- 
 ican Indians. In some lines of work the Mokis of 
 Homolobi, for instance, were superior to the Aztecs. 
 Romance and the Aztecs have been sadly mixed up by 
 the writers of a past generation. 
 
 The towns of Tusayan are seven. Wolpi, " the place 
 of the gap," named for the deep cut across the mesa on 
 which it is built, is best known. The people are very 
 friendly and are more advanced than the other tribes 
 
 27 
 
There is a school and many families live below the mesa 
 in red- roofed houses. Perhaps in a few years the old 
 pueblo will be abandoned and the quaint customs for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Next to Wolpi on the east is Si-chom'-ovi, " the 
 mound of flowers," an offshoot of Wolpi on account of 
 a disagreement, it is thought. 
 
 Ha'-no (also known as Te'-wa) is the third village on 
 the First or East Mesa, near the gap. Hano is a village 
 of Tewans who were induced to come from the Rio 
 Grande two centuries ago to assist in defending the 
 peaceful Mokis from the Apaches and Utes. They were 
 located at the head of the easiest trail up the mesa, and 
 on a smooth rock face is an inscription recording a 
 battle in which they vanquished the Utes. These 
 "keepers of the trail" are expert potters, and 
 most of the Moki ware is of their handicraft. It 
 seems strange to find in 
 Tusayau these foreigners 
 still speaking a language 
 different from that of their 
 neighbors. 
 
 Seven miles to the west, 
 across the valley from 
 Wolpi, the point of Second 
 or Middle Mesa stands out 
 in silhouette. The first 
 town is called Mi-shong'- 
 inovi, second in size in 
 Tusayan. The Snake 
 dance is held here in odd 
 years, as at Wolpi. 
 At such times | 
 the large interior 
 plaza is extremely 
 picturesque. On 
 
 WOLPI FOOT TRAIL. 
 
 HilUra, photo. 
 
PUEBLO OF SICHOMOVI. 
 
 'UEBLO OF TEWA (HANO). 
 
 Hilltr*, photo. 
 
CORN CARRIER. 
 
 the east trail to Mishong- 
 inovi there is a curious 
 hanging rock forming an 
 arch under which the trail 
 passes. 
 
 Back of Mishonginovi is 
 the small town of Shi-paul'-ovi, " the 
 place of the peaches," the most pic- 
 turesquely located of the Moki pu- 
 eblos, and with the most elevated 
 situation. Shipaulovi is a comparatively modern town, 
 having been formed by families from Shung o'-pavi since 
 the Spaniards introduced peaches. Here the Snake 
 dance is held in even years, alternating with that of the 
 Flute. 
 
 Shungopavi, " the place of the reed grass," is a few 
 miles west of Shipaulovi. Reed grass is prescribed for 
 the mats wound around the ceremonial wedding blankets 
 of white cotton. A small country place of Shungopavi 
 is located at Little Burro Spring, 
 some twelve miles south of the 
 town. 
 
 Oraibi, with its fifty mile distant 
 little offshoot, Mo"-en-kop'-i, marks 
 the extreme western, as Taos marks 
 the eastern, extent of the pueblo 
 region. Nearly one -half, or about 
 eight hundred, of the Mokis live in 
 Oraibi. The Snake Society at this 
 pueblo, though fewer in numbers 
 than at several of the other towns, 
 gives an interesting performance. 
 The large open plaza where the dance 
 is held offers excellent opportunities 
 for photographing and for viewing 
 the spectacle. 
 
 31 
 
 MAIL CARRIER. 
 
SPINNER. 
 
 In the even years visitors to 
 Tusayan may see three Snake dances 
 those of Oraibi, Shipaulovi, and 
 Shungopavi, unless the dates coin- 
 cide, which they are unlikely to do. 
 The Province of Tusayan, where 
 the Mokis now live and thrive, is 
 not a total desert waste, although 
 the first impression of those 
 accustomed to green 
 fields and frequent rains 
 is likely to be to the 
 contrary. Drought- 
 defying plants bloom at 
 certain seasons, and fill 
 wide stretches with color. 
 Along the sandy washes, adjacent to the pueblos, which 
 rarely by the good will of the rain gods show a silver 
 glint of water, are corn fields and melon and bean 
 patches, well cared for and jeal- 
 ously guarded by their owners. 
 Internecine war is waged against 
 the freebooting crows, mice, 
 prairie dogs and insects, and woe 
 betide any four-footed marauder 
 that is caught foraging 
 there; he is soon roasted 
 and supplying proto- 
 plasm to the Moki 
 organism; except in case 
 of a burro, when his 
 ears are docked in pro- 
 portion to the magni- 
 tude or incorrigibility 
 of his misdeed, to brand 
 him publicly as a thief. 
 
 Copyright, law. by F. II. Mu<i. Ui by jNrr 
 BASKET-WEAVER. 
 
On the rocky side of the mesa are 
 thriving peach orchards, perfectly 
 free from blight or insect enemies, 
 and in the proper season loaded down 
 with luscious fruit of which the 
 Mokis are extravagantly fond. A few 
 cottonwoods among the fields, the 
 peach trees, and the cedars along the 
 mesa sides, are all the trees to be 
 seen. These cedar forests are to the 
 Moki towns what a vein of coal is to 
 a civilized town the fuel supply 
 always getting farther away and 
 harder to reach, because the annual 
 growth of a desert cedar is almost 
 imperceptible. Though veins of coal 
 peep out in many places near the 
 pueblos, the Mokis do not use it, 
 although they seem to have known 
 what coal is long before our wise men 
 settled the question; the native name 
 for it is "rock wood," koowa, a word 
 which resembles our word coal. The 
 score or so of fruits, grains and veg- 
 etables which the Mokis plant would, 
 in favorable seasons, cause peace and 
 plenty to reign in Tusayan, but Moki 
 history has some sad tales of famine. 
 When the crops fail, the "good people" of necessity 
 fall back on the crops of nature's own sowing in the 
 desert. Old people still gather a plant for greens, 
 which they say has before now preserved the tribe from 
 starvation. Dried bunches of this plant may often be 
 seen ornamenting the rafters of their dwellings, amidst 
 a medley of other curious things. The fare of the 
 pueblo is eked out in ordinary times with edible roots, 
 
 MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 

 SPINNER AND WEAVER. 
 
 seeds, berries, and leaves 
 gathered from far and 
 near. The Mokis are 
 practical botanists. No 
 plant has escaped their 
 piercing eyes ; they have 
 given them names and 
 found out their good and 
 bad qualities ; pressed 
 them into service for 
 food, medicine, religion, 
 basket making and a hun- 
 dred other uses, from an 
 antidote for snake bites 
 to a hair brush. They 
 are also perforce vegeta- 
 rians. Onate, the Conqueror, said slightingly of Zuni 
 that there were as many rabbits as people around it. 
 Such a condition of things in Tusayan would fill the 
 Moki with joy, for he has the same fondness for rabbit 
 as the negro has for " 'possum with coon gravy." 
 Snakes seem to be more plentiful than rabbits, although 
 it takes ardent hunting to catch enough reptiles for the 
 Snake dance. Rats, mice, prairie dogs and an occa- 
 sional deceased burro or goat vary the menu of the 
 pueblos. The Mokis never eat their dogs, though to 
 do so would be at least putting them to some use. 
 
 Centuries ago, when the Mokis lived in the White 
 Mountains and the Mogollones, they must have been 
 hunters. What could have driven them from that para- 
 dise of coolness and greenery ? There under the giant 
 pines roamed elk, deer, antelope and bear; in the brush 
 were turkey; in the trees birds and squirrels; in the cool 
 streams were trout, and the wild bees furnished delicious 
 honey. There was abundant rain, and in the broad 
 valleys corn could be raised by "dry fanning." For 
 
PUEBLO OF MISHONGINOVI. 
 
 PUEBLO OF SHIPAULOVI. 
 
 Hitters, photo. 
 
DRESS WEAVING. 
 
 that Arizonian oasis 
 of flowers and plenty 
 the ancestors of the 
 Moki often must 
 have sighed, but 
 desert and a crust 
 were preferable to 
 the bloodthirsty 
 Apache. This is the 
 history of many an 
 enforced migration. 
 Now, pursuing 
 the order in which 
 the traveler becomes 
 familiar with the 
 surroundings of the Moki, from the distant approach, 
 when the mesas swim in the mirage with the dim 
 outlines of the cell towns on their crests, to when he 
 encamps by the corn fields and springs at their base, 
 we will next toil up the trail to visit. Far out in the 
 plain the watchful Moki from his high vantage has seen 
 the approach of visitors, and the news flies fast. There 
 will surely be some of the inhabitants to greet the 
 traveler when he arrives, to wonder at his outfit, ask for 
 piba and matchi (tobacco and matches), run errands and 
 be on the lookout for windfalls of food. 
 If the traveler wishes a washerman, a 
 boy to graze the horses or carry water 
 and wood, or if he wishes to rent a 
 house, he will soon find willing 
 hands and plenty of advisers. Shiba 
 (silver) makes things run smoothly 
 here as in civilization. 
 Starting at the altitude 
 of a mile and one-fourth, 
 the climbing of a mesa 
 
 DYER. Voth, photo. 
 
is somewhat of a task to the unaccustomed. When the 
 fierce sun is high, the climb may have frequent periods 
 of pause, and the natives who run up and down the mesa 
 as though it were a short flight of stairs are objects 
 of envy. But when the ascent is made and one sits in 
 the shade and hospitality of a Moki interior, the exer- 
 tion is repaid. It is a new and memorable experience. 
 
 PUEBLO OF SHUNGOPAVI. 
 
 Hitters, photo. 
 
 The nineteenth century civilization, with its tall build- 
 ings and bustling crowds, fades away and we are in the 
 ancient past of the southwest wonderland. 
 
 The Mokis are almost invariably pleased to have 
 white visitors enter their houses. Most of them invite 
 you in, all smiles and hospitality. In most cases, though, 
 where there is any doubt it is better to say, " een quaqui 
 
 37 
 
ORAIBI GIRLS GRINDING CORN. 
 
 Tijiton, photo. 
 
 tsit" (am I wel- 
 come?) which 
 brings a hearty 
 response. The 
 houses have 
 thick walls of 
 flat stone, laid 
 up in mud, plas- 
 tered inside and 
 out, and are 
 pleasantly cool 
 in the summer. 
 The hard, smooth, plastered floor is the general sitting 
 place, with the interposition of a blanket or sheep- 
 skin. The low bench, or ledge, which often runs 
 around the room, is also used as a seat. Perhaps 
 the ceiling will appear strange. The large cottonwood 
 beams with smaller cross-poles backed with brush; above 
 that, grass and a top layer of mud form a very picturesque 
 ceiling and effective roof. From the center of the ceiling 
 hangs a feather tied to a cotton string. This is the soul 
 of the house and the sign of its dedication; no house is 
 without one. Around the walls and from the beams 
 hang all sorts of quaint belongings painted wooden 
 dolls, bows and arrows, strings of dried herbs and myste- 
 rious bundles, likely of trappings for the dances enough 
 to stock a museum. In well-to-do families 
 the blanket pole, extending across the room, 
 is loaded with their riches in the shape of 
 harness, sashes, blankets and various 
 other valuables. In one corner is a 
 fireplace with hood ; sunk in the floor 
 are the corn mills ; near by is a 
 large water jar with dipper, and 
 sundry pieces of pottery are scat- 
 tered about. Usually the 
 
 MAKING BREAD (PIKl). 
 
A COURT IN ORAIBI. 
 
 general assembly room is kept clean with the brushes 
 made of grass stems, which serve also for hair brushes 
 betimes. This parlor, sitting room, sleeping room, 
 dining room and mealing room combined, serves 
 nearly every purpose of the family; but there is always 
 a grain room, where the corn is piled in neat rows, 
 and sometimes a room is set apart for baking. The 
 houses are rarely higher than two stories, the upper 
 being set back in terrace style, so that its front door 
 yard is the roof of the lower. The ladders are pic- 
 turesque; dogs and chickens, as well as people, climb 
 up and down. Stone steps on the partition walls 
 lead to the roofs, and when on top it is possible to 
 wander almost all over the town, as in the Orient. Ajar 
 with the bottom knocked out caps the chimney, or a 
 whole stack of jars runs clear up from the lower floor, 
 securely plastered around the joints, making an excel- 
 lent chimney. Short billets of pinon or cedar are piled 
 up on the walls for firewood, and not a chip or strand of 
 bark is wasted from the family woodpile. From the pro- 
 jecting beam ends and from pegs in the house front hangs 
 
an old curiosity shop of 
 articles eagle traps, 
 gourds, hoes, planting 
 sticks, sheep bones, and 
 many other articles that 
 keep one guessing. On 
 the top of a house in Moki- 
 land once was seen a curi- 
 ous structure, having 
 slanting sides formed of 
 bits of boards. On closer 
 examination it was found 
 to be a plow, which the 
 good people at Washington 
 had sent the Mokis, now doing service as a chicken 
 coop. Outside the door by the street is the pigame 
 oven, in which green corn pudding is baked, food dear 
 to the Moki heart and acceptable to any white visitor 
 who does not know that the women chew the yeast 
 to ferment the batter. This oven is a pit in the ground 
 two or three feet deep. Before baking, a fire is made in 
 it, and after the walls of the oven are heated the ashes 
 are raked out and the pudding, called pigame, is put 
 in and the top covered with a stone on which the fire 
 is kept burning. The pudding is put in the oven at 
 
 Voth, photo. 
 ORAIBI WASHERWOMAN. 
 
 PUEBLO OF ORAIBI. 
 
nightfall usually, and by morning 
 it is well baked and ready to be 
 wrapped in corn husks for con- 
 sumption. 
 
 A stroll about a Moki town will 
 convince the explorer that there 
 are streets full of "surprises," as 
 we call unexpected nooks and 
 corners in our own houses. Just 
 what the building regulations are 
 no one has yet divulged, but the 
 lay of the ground has much to do 
 with the arrangement. Wolpi is 
 crowded upon the point of a nar- 
 row mesa, and some of the houses 
 are perched on the edge of the 
 precipice, their foundation walls 
 going down many feet, the build- 
 ing of which is a piece of adven- 
 turous engineering. Many of the 
 
 towns have passages under the houses leading from one 
 street to another. The stone surface of the street is 
 deeply worn by the bare or moccasined feet of many 
 
 generations. The trail over 
 the dizzy narrows between 
 Wolpi and Sichomovi is 
 worn like a wagon track 
 in places from four to six 
 inches deep. The end of a 
 ladder sticking up through 
 a hatchway in a low mound 
 slightly above the 
 level of the street 
 marks the way 
 down into an 
 u n d ergroun d 
 
 SICHOMOVI FOOT TRAIL. 
 
 A MESA CLIFFSIDE. 
 
A MOKI INTEKIOK. 
 
 /i-vman, photo. 
 
 room, where strange ceremonies are held. This is a kiva, 
 and if we are hardy enough to brave the usual warning 
 to the uninitiated, we may peep down without fear of 
 swelling up and bursting. Perhaps, if there is no cere- 
 mony going on, a weaver may be making a blanket 
 on his simple loom ; likely it is deserted, dusky and 
 quiet with no suggestion of writhing serpents or naked 
 votaries and weird chanting. All streets lead to the 
 plaza, the center of interest, set apart for the many 
 dances ; some solemn and awe-inspiring, some grotesque 
 and amusing ; all dramatic in action and marvelous in 
 color. In the center of the plaza is a stone box. This 
 is a shrine, the focus at which all ceremonies center, and 
 beneath it is the opening into the underworld of 
 
departed ancestors. 
 Around most plazas in 
 Tusayan the houses are 
 built solidly ; at Wolpi 
 the dances take place on 
 a narrow shelf above 
 
 POTTERS. 
 
 the dizzy sandstone 
 
 cliffs ; at Oraibi one side of the plaza where the Snake 
 dance is enacted is open and the distant San Francisco 
 mountains stand plainly on the horizon. 
 
 Outside the town there is also something to see. 
 The general ash pile with its stray burro engaged in a 
 hopeless task of finding something to eat is passed by, 
 and one looks down over the brow of the mesa at the 
 corrals among the rocks on a narrow ledge crowded with 
 bleating sheep and goats. The trails wind down the 
 mesa, across the fields, and are lost in the country lying 
 spread out below like a map. Under the rocks a woman 
 is digging out clay for pottery, other women are toiling 
 up with jars of water from the 
 springs, while on the steep slope 
 among the jagged fragments of 
 stone is perhaps the last resting 
 place of the inhabitants, strewn 
 with bits of pottery. The springs 
 in Tusayan come out near the 
 base of the mesas, and the labor 
 of carrying water up some 600 feet 
 by means of the female beast of 
 burden puts water at a premium . 
 It is a blessing that the dry, 
 searching air of the elevated 
 region, and the fierce sun, do not 
 render bathing an actual neces- 
 sity. Most of the springs yield 
 little water, so that a large party 
 
 43 
 
 Maude, photo. 
 A MOKI FAMILY. 
 
of visitors with horses 
 camping about a pueblo 
 will give rise to fears of 
 a water famine. Placed 
 on the borders of every 
 spring, down close to 
 the water, may be seen 
 short painted sticks 
 with feather plumes 
 prayer offerings to the 
 gods for a continued 
 supply of the precious 
 fluid, the scarcity of 
 which from clouds or 
 springs has had to do 
 with the origin of 
 many ceremonies in the 
 Southwest. The lack of 
 water even fills in a 
 
 large part of the conversation of white visitors in this 
 dry country, taking the place of the weather, which is 
 unlikely to change. 
 
 Let us follow up the trail again after the toiling 
 water carriers, returning from the general meeting and 
 gossiping place, the spring. Let no one think that 
 there has been a lack of company in the course of these 
 wanderings. There are the children first, last and all 
 the time, all pervading, timid, but made bold by the 
 prospect of sweets. It is amusing to see a little tot 
 come hesitatingly as near as he dares to a white vis- 
 itor, and say, " Hel-lo ken-te " (candy). Unclad before 
 three or four years of age, the little ones look like- 
 animated bronzes " fried cupids," one amused onlooker 
 has termed them. The older girls have general char.m 
 of the young ones, and carry them about pick-a-back; 
 sometimes it is difficult to tell whether the carrier or 
 
 AN ORAIBI GIRL. 
 
 H 
 
A MISHONGINOVI GIRL. 
 
 the carried is the larger. The children 
 are good, and seem never to need cor- 
 rection, and anyone can see with half an 
 eye that the Mokis love their little ones. 
 They never are so flattered as 
 when attention is paid to the 
 children. Do this with an ad- 
 miring look, accompanied by the 
 word ' ' Lo f -lomai " (good, excel- 
 lent, pretty), and the parental 
 heart is won. When the rains 
 fill the rock basins on the mesa, < 
 these youngsters have a famous 
 time bathing, squirming like 
 tadpoles in the pools, splashing 
 and chasing each other. The 
 Moki childlife must be a uniformly happy one, except in 
 the season of green things, when they are allowed to eat 
 without limit. The statistics of highest mortality must 
 coincide with the time of watermelons, which are never 
 too unripe to eat. Dogs, chickens 
 and burros also add to the pictur- 
 esqueness of a Moki village. The 
 burros have the run of the town, 
 and furnish amusement for the 
 children. When providence or luck 
 has prevented a burro from stealing 
 corn, his ears have a normal, if not 
 graceful length. Few there are, 
 though, that have not paid penalty 
 by the loss of one or both of these 
 appendages. Chickens and dogs 
 are a sorry lot. The latter lie in 
 the corners and shady places, and 
 only become animate and vocal at 
 night, with true coyote instinct. 
 
 45 
 
 A MISHONGINOVI WOMAN. 
 
SNAKE KIVA, ORAIBI. 
 
 A shrill whistle denotes that some 
 Moki is the fortunate possessor of 
 an eagle to supply him with the 
 prized feathers for ceremonials. 
 The man who is opulent enough 
 to keep a turkey also has feathers 
 for the gathering. Women 
 go about on various errands 
 or pay visits in which gossip 
 bears a large share. Many a 
 pair of dark eyes peep out 
 from the light -hole in the 
 walls of the houses, or a 
 maiden with hair done up in 
 
 whorls takes a modest glance at the strangers. The 
 weird, high-pitched songs of the corn grinders, and 
 the rumble of the niealing-stones, are familiar sounds 
 in a Moki village. If you see a woman or maiden with 
 face powdered with corn flour, it means that she has 
 been busy grinding in the hopper-like mills sunken in 
 the floor of every house, and very hard labor it is. 
 Most of the able-bodied men are in the fields if the time 
 is summer, that is if no ceremony is going on a rare 
 contingency. Moki men are not afraid of work. From 
 youth until the time when they are enrolled in the class 
 of the lame, halt and blind, they do their share for the 
 support of the clan. Not 
 averse to soothing the 
 baby as his white brother 
 sometimes may be, his 
 domestic habits will not 
 take him so far as to do 
 women's work. Since the 
 time when his sweetheart 
 combed his raven locks in 
 sign of betrothal, and he 
 
 OJ eT %'hartoH 'Jam*. 
 
 ANTELOPE ALTAR IN KIVA. 
 
 Ud by ptrmission. 
 
had woven the wedding blanket, and the simple 
 marriage forms were observed, the traditional division of 
 labor has not been transgressed. Man's work and 
 woman's work are portioned off by the laws of unalter- 
 able custom. The division seems fair as to the amount 
 of labor. A popular illusion that the Indian makes his 
 wife do all the work is dispelled here, as another, that 
 Indians are always gruff and taciturn, will vanish after 
 a quarter of an hour's acquaintance with the jovial, 
 laughing Mokis. The house belongs to the woman, and 
 it is proper that she should 
 do the labor connected with 
 it, grind the corn, carry the 
 water, do the cooking, keep 
 the house tidy, and mind the 
 baby. Fortunately, Moki 
 babies do not long require 
 much attention ; they soon 
 take care of themselves 
 under the general super- 
 vision of the older children. 
 The young boys, perhaps, 
 with bow in hand, go to the 
 field with the men, for here 
 is where man's work comes 
 in under the broiling sun, 
 
 roth, photo. 
 
 preparing the ground, plant- WOMEN-S DANCE, ORAIBI. 
 
 ing the crops, hoeing, keep- 
 ing off the crows, prairie dogs, mice and insects, setting 
 up breaks against the wind or sudden rush of water, 
 gathering the crops and bringing them to the house on 
 the mesa. He brings wood chopped from the pifions 
 and cedars several miles away, and hustles generally to 
 supply the family. If he has horses and a wagon by the 
 bounty of Wasintona, he may get odd jobs of hauling, 
 which bring him in money for sugar, coffee and white 
 
 47 
 
B| ^^^j^ft man's flour, purchasable from the 
 
 jjdUbnRMH^^R 6 trader. Besides their customary 
 
 *^B^ .< J&9P work, some of the women have 
 
 -^^.w* 1 Hp^ other occupations. At the East 
 
 THIEF BURRO. Mesa she may be a potter, at the 
 
 Middle Mesa or Oraibi a basket 
 
 maker, but never a weaver, for that, strangely enough, 
 is man's work. In the quiet of her house the basket 
 maker is busy, for are not many Pahanas coming to the 
 Snake dance ? Sugar and baking powder for the feast 
 may depend on the sales of baskets. Around her on the 
 floor are gay colored splints of yucca leaf, dyed with the 
 evanescent aniline colors introduced by the traders. 
 Some of the strips are being moistened in a bed of damp 
 sand, from which they are taken to be sewn through and 
 over, covering the coil of grass with geometric designs. 
 The needle is really an awl; now of iron, formerly of 
 bone. At Oraibi, where one of the three Snake dances 
 held in Tusayan in the even years occurs, painted baskets 
 of wicker are made. They are very decorative. The 
 potter also plies her craft for the advent of the white 
 man. The clay has been gathered, prepared, and made 
 into vessels of forms tempting to the visitor, painted 
 and burned at the foot of the mesa so that the villainous 
 smoke will not choke everyone. Her wares are quaint 
 and not half bad. Nampeo, at Hano, is the best potter 
 in all Moki-land. 
 
 Of course little figures have to be carved from cotton- 
 wood, painted and garnished to resemble the numerous 
 divinities of the Mokis who take part in the ceremonies. 
 Men and women make them for their children, who 
 thus get kindergarten instruction on the appearance of 
 the inhabitants of the spiritual world. These "dolls" 
 can often be bought ; they are among the most curious 
 souvenirs of the Moki. The weaver, too, spends his 
 odd times in weaving the far-famed blankets of wool, 
 
dyed blue with sunflower seeds. He knows well the way 
 to weave pretty diaper patterns which remind one of 
 French worsted designs. The blankets are serviceable to 
 the last degree and in the loose garment of the women 
 will, perhaps, endure a whole generation. Belts of bright 
 colored yarns, embroidered kilts of cotton and embroid- 
 ered woolen sashes are chef-dSceuvres of the weaver. 
 
 The light side of life is uppermost in Moki-land. The 
 disposition of the Moki is to make work a sport, neces- 
 sity a pleasure and to have a laugh or joke ready in 
 an instant. This is the home of song makers ; the 
 singing of the men at work, of the mother to her babe, 
 of the corn grinders, of the priests in assembly chamber 
 or in the ^zVa-vault, constantly ripples forth. There is 
 no need for songs of the day ; love songs, lullabys, 
 war songs, hunting songs, songs secular and religious 
 give variety in plenty. The dark side exists, to be sure, 
 but the Mokis are so like children that a smile lurks just 
 behind a sorrow. The seriousness and gravity with 
 which the ceremonials are conducted is very impressive, 
 and no one who has seen the Snake dance will fail to 
 note that the Moki can be grave at times. Telling 
 stories is one of the amusements of winter around the 
 fireside. Until the ground is frozen it is dangerous to 
 relate the deeds of the ancients : then they have gone 
 away and will not overhear to the harm of the story- 
 teller. Rabbit hunting is another favorite amusement, 
 and parties of young men often do more hard work in 
 one day thus than in a month otherwise with few results 
 to show of " long ears " slain by the curved boomerang. 
 In the proper season berrying parties go out for a day's 
 picnic ; the Mokis enjoy traveling, and a journey of 
 fifteen or twenty miles to a berry patch and back is not 
 thought anything out of common. When the green 
 corn comes then the Moki lives bountifully. Tall col- 
 umns of white steam arising in the cornfields at early 
 
morning invite to a feast of roast corn taken from the 
 newly opened pit-oven. Then there is feasting while the 
 ears are hot and jollity reigns. One thing will strike 
 the visitor as curious : the Mokis do not gamble or drink 
 fire-water, even when they have an opportunity. They 
 do like tobacco, though, and the visitor who smokes will 
 do well to lay in an extra supply, for after the first 
 greeting, "/i#," the next query will be " piba" (to- 
 bacco), followed by " matchi" (matches), and a friendly 
 smoke council is held then and there. 
 
 The Mokis are the best entertained people in the 
 world. A round of ceremonies, each terminating in the 
 pageants called "dances," keeps going pretty continu- 
 ously the whole year. The theaters and other shows in 
 the closely built pueblos of the white man fall far short 
 of entertaining all the people, as do the Moki shows. 
 Then the Moki spectacles are free. The scheme of hav- 
 ing a gatekeeper on the trails to demand an entrance fee, 
 while it has great possibilities, has never entered the 
 Moki mind. This, too, for a good reason. These cere- 
 monies are religious and make up the complicated wor- 
 ship of the people of Tusayan. Even a visitor bent on 
 sightseeing alone will be impressed with the seriousness 
 of the Indian dancers and the evidence of deep feeling 
 perhaps it should be called devotion in the onlookers. 
 Not only in the somber Snake dance, but in every other 
 ceremony of Tusayan the actors are inspired by one pur- 
 pose and that is to persuade the gods to give rain and 
 abundant crops. So the birds that fly, the reptiles that 
 creep, are made messengers to the great nature gods 
 with petitions, and the different ancestors and people 
 in the underworld are notified that the ceremony is 
 going on that they too may give their aid. The amount 
 of detail connected with the observance of one of the 
 ceremonies is almost beyond belief, and being carried on 
 in the dark kivas has rarely been witnessed by others 
 
 50 
 
than the initiated priests. Thus the 
 many observances which come around 
 from time to time in two years are 
 quite a tax on the memory of the 
 adepts. 
 
 The ceremonial year of the Moki 
 is divided equally by two great events, 
 the departure of the kachinas in 
 August and their arrival in Decem- 
 ber. The kachinas are the spirits of 
 the ancestors whose special pleasure 
 it is to watch over Tusayan. When 
 the crops are assured they depart for 
 Nuvatikiobi) "the place of the high snows, 
 Francisco Mountain. After their departure come the 
 Snake and Flute dances, among others, and all the 
 dances up to the return of the kachinas are called 
 "nine days' ceremonies," while the joyous kachina 
 dances are known as the "masked dances." 
 
 All who become acquainted with the Mokis learn to 
 respect and like them. Fortunate is the person who, 
 before it is too late, sees under so favorable aspect their 
 charming life in the old new world. 
 
 WAI/TER HOUGH. 
 
 A TEWA GIRL. 
 
 or San 
 
 THE SNAKE LEGEND. 
 
 The Snake dance is an elaborate prayer for rain, in which the 
 reptiles are gathered from the fields, intrusted with the prayers of 
 the people, and then given their liberty to bear these petitions to 
 the divinities who can bring the blessing of copious rains to the 
 parched and arid farms of the Hopis. It is also a dramatization of 
 an ancient half-mythic, half-historic legend dealing with the origin 
 and migration of the two fraternities which celebrate it, and by 
 transmission through unnumbered generations of priests has be- 
 come conventionalized to a degree, and possibly the actors them- 
 selves could not now explain the significance of every detail of the 
 ritual. The story is of an ancestral Snake-youth, Ti'yo, who, pon- 
 dering the fact that the water of the river flowed ever in the same 
 
 51 
 
direction past his home without returning or filling up the gorge 
 below, adventurously set out to ascertain what became of it. He 
 carried with him, by paternal gift, a precious box containing some 
 eagle's down and a variety of prayer-sticks (pahos) for presentation 
 to the Spider-woman, the Ancient of the Six Cardinal Points, the 
 Woman of the Hard Substance (such as turquoise, coral and shell), 
 the Sun, and the underworld divinity who makes all the germs of 
 life. The Spider-woman was propitiated and cordially became his 
 counselor and guide. She prepared a liquid charm to be taken in 
 the mouth and spurted upon angry beasts and snakes for their paci- 
 fication, and perched herself invisibly on his ear. Then through 
 the sipapu they plunged to the underworld. There, following float- 
 ing wisps of the eagle's down, they journeyed from place to place, 
 safely passing the great snake Gato'ya, and savage wild beast sen- 
 tinels, visiting Hi'canavaiya, who determines the path of the rain- 
 clouds, and Hi'zriingwikti, the ancient woman who every night 
 becomes an enchanting maiden ; had a smoke with Ta'wa, the Sun, 
 and went with him to inspect the place where he rises ; meeting 
 Miiiyingwuh on the way and receiving friendly assurances from 
 that creative divinity. He rode across the sky on the Sun's shoulder 
 and saw the whole world, and learned from his flaming charioteer 
 that the possession most dearly to be prized was the rain-cloud. So 
 he returned to the kiva near the great snake, and from the Snake 
 Antelope men there learned what songs to sing, what prayer-sticks 
 to fashion and how to paint his body, that the rain-cloud might 
 come. The chief gave him much important paraphernalia, and 
 two maidens who knew the charm preventing death from the bite 
 of the rattlesnake. These maidens Tiyo took home, giving one to 
 his younger brother, where the youthful couples took up their atode 
 in separate kivas. At night low clouds trailed over the village, and 
 Snake people from the underworld came from them and went into 
 the kivas. On the following morning they were found in the val- 
 leys, transformed into reptiles of all kinds. This occurred for four 
 days. Then (ninth morning) the Snake maidens said, " We under- 
 stand this ; let the younger brothers (the Snake Society) go out and 
 bring them all in and wash their heads, and let them dance with 
 you." This was done, and prayer-meal sprinkled upon them, and 
 then they were carried back to the valleys, and they returned to 
 the Snake kiva of the underworld bearing the petitions of all the 
 people. 
 
 (Condensed from the account by J. Walter Fewkes, in Jour. Am. 
 Ethn. and Arch., Vol. IV.) 
 
 It is only the ninth day's ceremony, the dance with 
 the snakes, which is publicly performed. 
 
 52 
 
MOKI CEREMONIES. 
 
 It will be noted that the Snake dances occur during 
 the month of August, the date being between the I5th 
 and 26th, and announced a few days prior to the begin- 
 ning of the nine days' ceremonies, of which the dance is 
 the public culmination. In the even years (1900, 1902, 
 1904, etc.) they occur at Oraibi, Shipaulovi and Sichom- 
 ovi ; in the odd years (1901, 1903, 1905, etc.), at Wolpi 
 and Mishonginovi. The Flute dances, a picturesquely 
 impressive but less exciting ceremony, occur at the 
 above-named pueblos in years alternating with the Snake 
 dance. For example, 1900 being the year of the Snake 
 dance at Oraibi, the Flute dance at that pueblo will occur 
 in 1901 ; and 1899 having been the year of the Snake 
 dance at Wolpi, a Flute dance will occur there in 1900. 
 
 ROUTES TO THE MOKI PUEBLOS. 
 
 Far from being difficult of access, the Province 
 of Tusayan is easily reached either by saddle horse or 
 wheel conveyance from several towns on the Santa Fe 
 Pacific Railroad, a division of the transcontinental line 
 of the Santa Fe route. The trip can be made most con- 
 veniently by travelers to or from California as a side 
 excursion en route> but the experience will amply repay 
 a special journey across the continent. Some fatigue 
 and lack of comforts incident to roughing it are well- 
 nigh inseparable from such an excursion, involving as it 
 does the traversing of from seventy to over one hundred 
 miles of the Great American Desert, depending upon the 
 point selected for departure from the railroad. But 
 these very features are accounted no small part of the 
 attractions of the trip, as lovers of outdoor life amid 
 scenes of novel and extraordinary interest need not be 
 
 53 
 
told. Indeed, if the pueblos as an objective point did 
 not exist, a voyage into that country of extinct volcanoes 
 and strangely sculptured and tinted rocks and mesas 
 would be well worth the making. While the round trip 
 from the railroad may be made in four or five days, or 
 less if desired, it can be pleasurably prolonged indefi- 
 nitely. Aside from the powerful charm exerted by this 
 region upon all visitors, there is an invigorating tonic 
 quality in the pure air of Arizona that is better than 
 medicine for the overworked in the exhausting activities 
 of city business life. Many a professional man (and 
 woman), wearied in brain and enfeebled in body, having 
 been solicited to make this or a similar outdoor excursion 
 in Arizona, has complied with misgiving and returned 
 almost miraculously restored to health and vigor. 
 Testimony to this fact can be furnished by reference 
 to many well-known individuals, who, were they 
 entirely free to indulge their preferences, would every 
 summer forego the seaside and the fashionable watering- 
 place and return to Arizona to mount a sturdy bronco, 
 and forget for a time the cares and conventionalities of 
 civilized life in a simple, wholesome and joyous existence 
 in the sunlit air of the desert. 
 
 At the stations named all needful transportation 
 facilities are provided, whose proprietors are accustomed 
 to convey passengers every summer to the Snake dances. 
 A visit to the Moki pueblos may, however, be made at 
 any season, except in midwinter, and will at any time 
 prove richly interesting. Arrangements should be made 
 in advance by correspondence, which may be addressed 
 to either the local agent of the Santa Fe Route, 
 W. J. Black, General Passenger Agent, Topeka ; C. A. 
 Higgins, Assistant General Passenger Agent, Chicago ; 
 W. S. Keenan, General Passenger Agent, Galveston ; 
 Jno. J. Byrne, General Passenger Agent, L/os Angeles; 
 or John L. Truslow, General Agent, San Francisco. 
 
[NOTE. The distances given are approximate, as in some 
 cases, particularly between the different pueblos, they depend 
 upon whether the wagon or the horse trail is followed, the latter 
 being shorter. The transportation charges also depend somewhat 
 upon the size of the party. One or two persons traveling light by 
 way of the shortest route could reach Oraibi in one day if desired. 
 Larger or more leisurely parties would require two days, or longer 
 by the less direct routes.] 
 
 Bancroft Library 
 
 Canon Diablo Route. 
 
 To McAllister's Crossing 15 miles 
 
 Volz's Store, " The Fields " 17 " 
 
 Ivittle Burro Spring 22 " 
 
 Big Burro Spring 3 " 
 
 Oraibi.. 16 " 
 
 73 
 Middle Mesa 20 " 
 
 93 " 
 Wolpi 10 " 
 
 103 " 
 
 NOTE. From " The Fields " theie is a horse trail, northeasterly 
 course, to Middle Mesa, 43 miles, and to Wolpi, 53 miles. 
 
 CHARGES. $20 round trip, for conveyance by wagon ; 
 meals $i each, and lodging $i per night. 
 
 55 
 
Winslow Route. 
 i. 
 
 To Rocky Ford Crossing 9 miles 
 
 Junction with Canon Diablo road 
 
 north of Volz's Store 30 " 
 
 L,ittle Burro 20 " 
 
 59 miles 
 Oraibi 20 " 
 
 79 " 
 Wolpi 22 " 
 
 81 " 
 
 Wolpi to Middle Mesa 10 " 
 
 Middle Mesa to Oraibi 20 " 
 
 in " 
 2. 
 
 To Rocky Ford Crossing 9 miles 
 
 Pyramid Butte 26 " 
 
 Commoh's Spring 10 " 
 
 Touchez-de-nez (Sigenis) 25 " 
 
 Wolpi 5 " 
 
 75 " 
 
 Middle Mesa 10 " 
 
 Oraibi 20 " 
 
 105 
 
 CHARGES. Named on application. Team and driver 
 for four should cost not to exceed $5 per day, passengers 
 furnishing their own bedding and provisions. Winslow 
 is provided with hotel accommodations and outfitting 
 stores. 
 
Holbrook Route. 
 
 To lya Reaux Wash 1 1 miles 
 
 Well near Cottonwood Wash 6 
 
 Cottonwood Wash crossing 3 ' ' 
 
 Malpais Spring 13 " 
 
 Bittahoochee 7 " 
 
 Tonnael Malpais Spring 12 " 
 
 Jeditoh Valley Spring 22 ' ' 
 
 Keam's Canon 6 " 
 
 Wolpi 10 " 
 
 90 " 
 
 Middle Mesa 10 " 
 
 Oraibi 20 " 
 
 120 ' 
 
 CHARGES. $15 round trip, for conveyance by wagon, 
 passengers providing their own camp outfit and provi- 
 sions. Holbrook has good livery and hotel accommoda- 
 tions, and stores. 
 
 57 
 
Flagstaff Route. 
 
 To Turkey Tauks 19 miles 
 
 Grand Falls Crossing 22 " 
 
 Little Burro 45 " 
 
 Oraibi . , 18 " 
 
 104 
 
 Middle Mesa 20 
 
 Wolpi 10 
 
 134 
 
 CHARGES. For wagon conveyance, $25 round trip. 
 Board $3 per day, and lodging $i per night. Or pas- 
 sengers may provide their own outfit and provisions 
 and arrange with liverymen for transportation only. 
 Hotel accommodations, livery and stores at Flagstaff 
 are excellent. 
 
 It is also practicable to make the trip from Gallup. 
 
 This route is not shown on map herein, but is reported 
 
 to be as below : 
 
 To Rock Spring Store 9 miles 
 
 Hay Stack Store 12 " 
 
 (Fort Defiance, 9 miles north.) 
 
 Cienega 5 " 
 
 Bear Tank (water i y 2 miles north) 20 " 
 
 Cotton & Hubbell's Store (Ganada) n " 
 
 Eagle Crag (water i^ miles north) 23 " 
 
 Steamboat Canon (water 3 miles north) ... 8 " 
 
 Keam's Canon School 18 " 
 
 Ream's Canon Store 2 " 
 
 Wolpi 10 " 
 
 Middle Mesa 10 " 
 
 Oraibi 20 " 
 
 CHARGES. Named on application. l & 
 
 58 
 
LAG STAFF 
 
 ROUTES 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MOKI PUEBLOS 
 
 Scale of Miles 
 
CHICAGO 
 
I 
 
 I