Part 9 (1/2)
As soon as the snow line is pa.s.sed, the climate begins to change. The cold is less penetrating, and by and by one enters what might be called a temperate zone. Warmer and more comfortable it becomes, until, on reaching the river, the word ”delicious” alone conveys the rich sense of satisfaction that one feels all over the body in the delightful sensation experienced. No time is so agreeable for a long stay in the depths of the Canyon as in the heart of winter. A semi-tropical climate below, while above, within three hours easy ride, a snowy winter may be reigning supreme!
Winter in the Canyon. Robert Brewster Stanton, who made his successful trip through the Canyon in wintertime, comments on this as follows: ”It has been the fortune of but few to travel along the bottom of the great chasm for a whole winter, while around you bloom the sweet flowers, and southern birds sing on almost every bush, and at the same time far above, among the upper cliffs, rage and roar, like demons in the air, the grandest and most terrific storms of wind and snow and sleet that I have ever witnessed, even above the clouds among the summit peaks of the Rocky Mountains.”
Change in the Flora. This climatic diversity above and below is noticeable all through the year to the man or woman of sharp eyes, in the difference of the flowers, the shrubs, and the trees. Above are the pines, the cedars, and junipers of the cooler climes. The further down one goes, the greater the change becomes. The pines drop out, then the cedars and junipers, and when one reaches the patches of growth in the lowest depths, the agave, and other plants and flowers that we find only in semi-tropical climates here grow profusely.
Indian Garden. Another difference between the ”above” and the ”below” is found in the fact that a garden is almost unknown on the rim, and that there are many down below. On the Bright Angel Trail is the Indian Garden, where, for many years, the Havasupais used to cultivate their corn, beans, onions and melons. Along the s.h.i.+numo, on the north side, Mr. Ba.s.s has a garden where all these things grow; where peaches, plums, grapes, and apricots have thriven abundantly, and where now he is planting figs, lemons, oranges and grape-fruit. The Havasupais, in the depths of their Canyon, grow the finest, largest and most tender corn in the world, peaches and figs galore, and all the ordinary vegetables. Boucher also has fruit and vegetables on the level near the river, on his trail. At Lee's Ferry also, Elder Emet has his gardens and orchards, as well as fine alfalfa fields. Nothing is more delightful than to come, after a hot journey down the trail, to these unexpected oases in the heart of the canyons.
Soil on the River and in the Canyon. The soil of the ”above,” too, largely differs from the soil of the ”below.” On the plateaus above, there are millions of acres, most of which careful examination shows to be covered with disintegrated rock and comparatively little vegetable soil, except below the surface. The winds and rains have carried away the softer and lighter soil, and allowed the heavier and harder rocks to remain. This process goes on all the time. In the depths of the Canyon, however, except on the steeper slopes, the soil remains.
The Silence on the Rim. A remarkable contrast between the rim and the Canyon is sometimes found in the absolute silence above, and the roar of the river below. It often occurs that not a sound of any kind can be heard on the rim but one's breathing and the beating of his own heart. One morning I lay for an hour before I arose, and during the whole of that time, though I listened again and again, not the slightest sound reached my ears save the two named.
Song of the River. Now descend to the river and, day or night, early or late, June or December, hot or cold, wet or dry, fair or stormy, the roar and rush, fret and fume of the water is never out of one's ears. Even when asleep it seems to ”seep” in through the benumbed senses, and tell of its never-ending flow. After a few weeks of it, one comes away and finds he cannot sleep. He misses it and finds himself unable to sleep away from the accustomed noise.
The Wind. In nothing is the difference of ”above” and ”below” more marked than in the wind. Last night on the rim the wind blew almost a gale.
The pines sang loudly, and one could hear their roar for miles. A dozen times I awoke and listened to their weird music. If you go outdoors, the wind plays with your hair, and tosses garments to and fro with frolicsome glee, or even, at times, with apparent angry fury. There are times when the wind comes toward you, on the rim, with a rapidity and force that are startling. Every one has had the experience of hearing a military band approaching from a distance.
As it comes nearer, the sound grows louder and louder, and if it approaches with great rapidity, as for instance, in an automobile or a speeding electric car, the music a.s.sails the ear with an increasing force that is a surprise. It is just so with the noises of the wind at the rim of the Canyon.
Now leave the rim and walk down the trail a couple of rods. All is quiet and still. The change is startling m its suddenness. The wind may be blowing far above you, and if you listen, you will hear its effect in the trees, but here, where you stand, you are protected and sheltered.
Diversity of Color. Perhaps the greatest difference between the rim and the interior of the Canyon is found in the diversity in color and feature between them. While there is a fascination to the long, wide stretches of plateau on the rim, and the forest has its attractive points, there are not many prominent features (looking away from the Canyon) that would occupy the attention of travellers. There is little striking in color, in scenery, in rocky contour. Plains, trees, sky, clouds, sunset,--and nearly all is said. But immediately one stands on the rim and looks below, all is changed. Here is feature after feature that compels not only attention but reverent homage. Color such as is seen nowhere else in the world on such a grand scale; ma.s.sive walls that have no counterpart; rock forms that dazzle and bewilder; and an unfoldment of the stone book of creation that is alike a joy and a pain, a delight and a sorrow, a something seen at a glance, and that requires a lifetime to comprehend.
CHAPTER XV. The Hopi House
The Harvey Collection at El Tovar. In the Hopi House, opposite the El Tovar entrance, is installed one of the most interesting Indian collections of the world,--a collection that would grace the National Museum of Great Britain, France or Germany. The more intelligent the visitor to the Grand Canyon, the more he will find he can learn in this wonderful storehouse provided for his instruction and recreation.
The Hopi House. The building itself is a perfect model of a block in the village of Oraibi, one of the seven Hopi pueblos. It is three stories high, and contains many rooms. The original is supposed to accommodate forty-five families. It is built of the chips of sandstone and other rock in accordance with Hopi custom, rudely and irregularly laid in mortar. It is of the terraced style of architecture, each story receding from the one below it, so that the ”second story front” finds a ready courtyard on the roof of the ”first story front,” and the ”third story front” on that of the ”second story front.”
Houses that were Forts. In the old houses, found when the white man first visited the pueblos, there was no means of entrance to the first stories save by means of the ladders which stood outside against the walls, and thence through hatchways made in the roofs. This was for the purpose of defence against hostile tribes, who were constantly warring with these home-loving Indians in order that they might steal from them the fruits of their persistent labor and thrift. The ladder, during times of expected attack, could be lifted upon the second story, out of reach, and thus these houses became the forts of their inhabitants. Nowadays entrances are provided on the ground floor, and this house at El Tovar follows the modern custom, as well as the later innovation (which of course is essential in this building) of using gla.s.s for windows. For convenience and safety, another anachronism is tolerated in the electric light. In practically everything else, the building is a true model of a Hopi community house.
With these people, the women are generally and mainly the builders of the houses, the men merely a.s.sisting in the heavier work.
Quaint Stairways. In addition to the quaint ladders, quainter steps, cut into flat or round trunks of cottonwood trees, are used. Stone steps connecting the two upper stories, are also built outside in the part.i.tion walls. The chimneys are constructed, in true pueblo fas.h.i.+on, of pottery water ollas, the bottoms of which have been broken out. Three or more of these, fastened with cement or mortar, are placed one above another. On the roofs are wood piles, as at Oraibi, and also picturesque strings of red peppers drying in the sun.
Navaho Silversmith. The entrance doorway is low, and the steps lead one down into the first room, in true Oraibi style. This room is occupied by the Tinne peshlikai, or Navaho silversmith, and Navaho blanket weavers. The smith, though using some modern tools, still follows the time-honored methods of his brother craftsmen. The silverware he makes will be more fully described in the special chapter devoted to the subject, as will also the blanket weaving of his wife and children.
Details of Construction. In this room there are several features of interest. First notice the construction of the building. The roof is supported by a ma.s.sive upright, in a crotch, or V, on which the cross rafters rest. Lesser poles are placed upon these at right angles, which in turn support arrow-weed, willows, and other light brush. In the genuine Hopi construction, mud is then plastered or laid thickly over these willows; but as these rooms contain valuable collections of goods, a modern roofing has been used, which, however, does not in any way detract from the ”realness” of the building.
Fireplace. In the corner is one of the quaint hooded fireplaces, with the raised hearth, exactly similar to several I have sat before in Oraibi, while my hospitable hostess prepared some Hopi delicacy or substantial food to tickle the palate or appease the hunger of her welcomed guest.
Mealing Stones. On the left is a quartet of corn-grinders, walled in from the floor by stone slabs laid in cement. In every pueblo house, a ”battery”
of these mealing stones is to be found, and it is one of the commonest of sights to find the women and girls on their knees, with the grinder in hands, rubbing it briskly up and down with the swing of the body, while every few moments, with a deft movement of the hand, the grain is thrown between the grinder and the stone beneath. The motion reminds one much of that required over the was.h.i.+ng board. While thus at work, the Pueblo women sing some of their sweetest songs.
Hair Dressing. Occasionally when a Hopi mother, whose daughter has reached maidenhood, is located in the Hopi House, one may chance to find her engaged in turning the heavy black hair of her ”mana” into the big whorls on the side of her head which are the Hopi emblem of maidenhood and purity.
The mother herself wears her hair in two pendant rolls. These are the symbols of fruitfulness and chast.i.ty.
It is interesting also to see them make piki, a process elsewhere fully described.