Part 12 (2/2)

Navaho Superst.i.tion. The Navaho is superst.i.tious about several things: If any one dies in the hogan it is henceforth ”tabu.” The body is burned and the building with it, and whatever fragments of poles, etc., withstand the fire are regarded with distrust.

Dislikes and Fears. Another tabu of the Navaho is his fear of seeing his mother-in-law. Whenever she comes in sight, he disappears. Technically he never sees her, and I have often had great fun in trying to bring them together. Fish is another object placed under the Navaho ban. He will neither eat, see, nor smell fish, if he can help it.

Essentially Religious. He is an essentially religious being, and has a large number of ritualistic ceremonies. He has many dances for various purposes, the most exciting of which is locally known as the HoshKon. It is a healing ceremony. Dr. Matthews calls it the Mountain Chant. It requires many days for its complete performance, and one of its final ceremonies consists of a wild fire dance which is thrilling in the extreme.

Superior Horsemans.h.i.+p. But perhaps it is in his every-day horsemans.h.i.+p that the Navaho shows himself the superior man. Oftentimes he introduces feats of skill on a horse into his ceremonies. A few years ago at Tuba City, I saw a large band of Navahos unite with the Hopis in their dances and ceremonies of harvest thanksgiving. The Hopi director of the dances was Mootchka, whose costume was as astoundingly frightful as he could possibly make it. His naked body was smeared over with whitewash, some of which adhered and some of which did not. On his head was a ma.s.s of rudely woven black wool, crowned with the duplex pads of some wild flower. Around the waist was a similar black wool mat, fastened on with a Navaho belt of silver disks. When all was ready the dancers began. The trader's store-yard was the plaza, and the roofs of all the buildings on the three sides of the square were covered with Navaho spectators. Hour after hour they continued.

Some of the dancers were decorated, others were in ordinary costume, but all danced and sang with fervor.

Dancing. The chief instrument was a large drum, made by hollowing out a section of a tree trunk, and covering the ends with rawhide, which were tightly laced on with strips of the same material. The dull monotonous thump of the drum kept time, while dancers sang and rattled. Their songs are invocations to ”Those Above” to continue their good gifts, and at the same time accept thanks for all that had been given. One dance was particularly beautiful. It was supposed to represent the movements of the planets in and out of the fixed stars. Two little girls, brightly and beautifully dressed, waving feather plumes in their hands, threaded their way in and out of the lines of the dancers, themselves moving with an easy graceful swing.

Origin of Dances. To seek to penetrate the origin of these dances is to find ourselves in the darkness of antiquity. Almost all Indian peoples have the firmly fixed notion that the G.o.ds can be propitiated only by these exhausting dances. Consequently they are not performed by a few professional dancers, or even by certain families; all the people must dance. The smallest child, as soon as he is able to understand, must take his place with the elders, and the women and girls enter into the dances with the same religious fervor and zeal that is displayed by the men. And there is none of that s.e.x enjoyment injected into their sacred dances, as there is in the white man's pleasure dances. The Indian men dance together, and the Indian women together, or, where both s.e.xes partic.i.p.ate, men are in one row and women in another. So that Indian dances are not pleasure dances. Neither are they compet.i.tive. There is none of the negro cake-walk idea connected with them, nor the Italian peasant's carnival, where rivals dance to gain the applause of the village.

Gifts Thrown to Spectators. During these dances at Tuba, gifts of corn, squash, melons, flour, cloth of native texture, and loaves of unleavened bread were brought and given with accompanying prayers to Mootchka, the leader. Then, at certain times, these were thrown among the spectators and eagerly caught, for not only were the articles themselves to be desired, but there accompanied them the prayers of the original donors, which, in some subtle manner, were supposed to bring good fortune to the final recipients.

The ”Rooster” Race. The next day the Navahos had their turn. The two leading chiefs selected a suitable site, and, taking a rooster, buried it up to the neck in sand. The running course was soon cleared, and excited Indians on horseback lined up on either side for half a mile. Horseflesh of all kinds known to the Indians (from fleet, wiry steeds that had won many a prize, to broken-down cayuses fit only for the boneyard) was to be seen.

The riders were decked in all the gorgeousness they could afford. Silk bands were around jet black ma.s.ses of hair; calico of rainbow colors was made into garments, here and there overshadowed by a beautifully woven and exquisitely patterned native blanket. Around the waist of many of the men were leathern belts, to which were attached large silver disks worked by native silversmiths; and rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings of similar work abounded.

Beginning of the Fun. The compet.i.tors were soon gathered together at one end of the course. The chiefs stated the conditions upon which the prizes must be won, and a signal was given. Like a shot, a rider darted out from the ma.s.s toward the tiny head of the buried rooster, stooping over from the saddle as he neared the bird, with fingers of the right hand extended, the left hand holding the bridle and clutching the horse's mane. With a sweep, sudden as it was delicate, he tried to catch the rooster's head between his extended fingers. He failed, but dashed on, for another horse and rider were at his heels, and another and another; the string seemed endless. Now and again one would touch the bird, or would actually catch the head, but the body was too securely buried to be pulled out easily. Cheers would ascend as the riders showed approximate success. Sometimes a horse would shy, and the white visitor looked for nothing less than a broken neck for his rider. But, laughing and shouting, the athletic and careless Indian would swing himself into the saddle, and in a few rough jerks teach the unruly animal to recognize a master. Of course, long before this, the rooster was dead, for at the first strong clutch his neck was broken, so that there was no unnecessary torture. The stream of riders flowed on, and at last one lucky fellow gave the right kind of a pull, and out came the rooster, to be swung around his head with a fierce yell of triumph.

Pursuit of the Victor. Now the real sport begins. With a shout that only Indian lungs can produce, every rider darts after the possessor of the rooster, and for an hour, more or less, it is a question of hard riding, dodging, evading, whirling to and fro. Over the sand-hills they go, pursued and pursuers, yelling and shouting like demons. The victor's horse seems to know all about the sport. He watches and dodges and doubles, like a hunted hare. Now a stalwart ruffian has caught the rooster carrier, and hangs on like grim death, while he is beaten over head and breast and shoulders with the rooster as a weapon. Others join in. Surely someone will get hurt!

Watch the horses. They nip and pinch each other, and squeal with pain and anger. Ah, the winner still keeps his prize! Again he is caught, and this time it seems as if he must succ.u.mb. But his horse helps him out and, by clinging desperately to the horn of the saddle and his horse's mane, he wrests himself away from his pursuer, aided by the shying of the pursuing horse, which is kicked and bitten by his own animal. But where is the pursuer? His horse is das.h.i.+ng riderless away. Is he trampled to death in that swirling, sandy conflict? No, he is hanging on to the man with the rooster, belabored the while with the now b.l.o.o.d.y and dilapidated bird.

Regardless of this he still clings, although the horse is bounding along at great speed, and a hundred or more are following, all yelling and encouraging him not to let go. With a superb effort, he swings himself onto the horse behind the saddle, and with a second sudden move grabs the rooster and wrests half of it out of the original victor's hands. Seeing a chance to escape he drops upon the sand, picks himself up unhurt, and is soon seated upon a new horse. Now he becomes the pursued, and two bands, instead of one, of howling, raving, shouting demons, occupy the attention.

Finish of Contest. And thus the struggle goes on, good-naturedly, yet with a fierceness of energy that is exhausting in its wild excitement; exhausting to the onlooker, as well as the partic.i.p.ant. When the unlucky bird is all dismembered, and the racers smeared from head to heels with blood, and it seems impossible to divide the pieces any smaller, then, and not till then, the conflict ceases.

Two Thousand Hors.e.m.e.n. But for superb riding watch nearly two thousand of these sons of the desert as they train their young men and boys in daring control of their horses. The greatest chief of the Navahos is a good friend of mine, and it was by his kind invitation that I was privileged to see this never-to-be-forgotten sight. He commanded the ”regiment”--shall I call it?--riding alongside at times, and again standing where he could signal his demands and note the result.

An Exhibition of Riding. Let us stand with him. These riders are about to dash past. Just before they reach us, a signal is given, and every rider, in an instant, disappears over the side of his mount, while the horses continue running under perfect control. Simultaneously, every Indian reappears upon his saddle, sits about as long as one might count three, and then slides over to our side of his horse, fully in our sight, holding on by stirrup and mane, but completely hidden from one who might be looking from the other side.

Wonderful Agility. The chief was delighted, in his dignified quiet way, as I burst into warm encomiums, and told me I should soon see ”some more”

riding. Again the hors.e.m.e.n dashed past. This time I watched for their disappearance and saw where and how they went, but I was scarcely prepared to see many of them peeping at me from under the bellies of their animals.

This was done several times; then Pacoda gave me another treat. The riders came toward us. At a sign, every man sprang from his horse to the ground, to our left, gave three or four wild jumps, sprang completely over the saddle to the other side of his horse, where he gave more jumps, and then, with a yell of joyful triumph, landed into his saddle, the horse, meanwhile, keeping up his speed.

An Impressive Spectacle. But to see the whole party ride furiously away from us, nothing but black hair, st.u.r.dy backs, horses' tails and hindquarters with galloping feet presented, and then, in the twinkle of an eye it almost seemed, to have the same party das.h.i.+ng towards you, was a feat in horsemans.h.i.+p which impressed me most profoundly.

Hors.e.m.e.n almost from Birth. It is not to be wondered at that the Navaho is an expert horseman. He is as nearly born on horseback, literally, as he can be, for on several occasions I have ridden with Navaho friends, among whom was an expectant mother, have stopped half an hour for the birth, and then, with the new-born babe strapped on the mother's back, have resumed the trip, completing, perhaps, forty or fifty miles in a day. Children born under such conditions could not fail to be skilful hors.e.m.e.n.

CHAPTER XXII. From El Tovar To The Havasupai Indians And Their Wonderful Cataract Canyon Homes

Havasu Canyon. The Grand Canyon has two important tributary canyons. The most important of these is the Havasu Chic-i-mi-mi (canyon of the blue water). This is where the Havasupai Indians live.

First White Visitor. The first white man to visit the Havasu, as far as we know, was Padre Francisco Garces, of whom I have written in another chapter. Four times he made long journeys into the interior, visiting a large number of Indian tribes. Among these were the Wallapais and the Havasupais.

Garces' Diary. Dr. Elliott Coues, who visited the Havasupais in 1881 with a governmental party, has translated Garces' diary, and it was published a short time ago by Francis P. Harper, of New York. In this translation, he describes the descent of his (Coues's) party into the Canyon, and his description is so vivid that it is well worth repet.i.tion here.

Dr. Coues' Description of Trail to Havasu Canyon. ”On the 10th, a march of ten miles in the same direction brought us abruptly to the brink of the precipice--a sharp-edged jump-off of perhaps a thousand feet. There was no side canyon here for gradual descent; the firm level ground gave no hint of the break before us until we were actually upon the verge, and when the soldiers lined up to look down an involuntary murmur of astonishment ran through the ranks. Dismounting and going in single file, each man leading his horse, we took the dizzy trail--a narrow footpath, in many parts of which a misstep would have been destruction to man or beast. The way zigzagged at first for some distance, on the 'switchback' principle by which railroads sometimes make grades otherwise impracticable; the face of the precipice was so steep that, as we filed along, those of us at the head of the procession looked up to see the other sections of the train almost overhead; certainly a fall of any man there would have been right on top of us. Then the trail took a long lurch to the left with little descent, hugging the face of the cliff, and we looked like a row of ants on a wall.

This brought us at length to the head of a great talus, down which the trail zigzagged--the incline was too steep for straight descent, probably at an angle of forty-five degrees. This fetched us into the bed of Cataract Canyon, perfectly dry. The trail was nearly a mile long, and it took us an hour to make our creepy way down. The Havasupai chief, who had been advised of our coming, was there to meet us with some of his men, all mounted; and he took us up the canyon about five miles to a place where there was a scanty aguage, not sufficing for the wants of the whole party.

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