Sometimes, When The Field Is Near
By, The Hopi Will Ride On His Burro.
These cunning creatures are almost a
necessity of Indian life.
The streets would seem lonely without them. It
will be noticed occasionally that one of these animals has lost part of his
left ear. This is proof that he is possessed of kleptomaniac proclivities.
If a burro is found stealing corn, he is sentenced to have part of his ear
cut off.
Oraibi. On one of these burros we ride up the steep trail that brings us to
the westernmost village of the Hopi, Oraibi. It is perched high on the mesa
top, several hundred feet above the valley, and the various trails are
steep and rugged. Some of them are sheer climbs, up which no animal other
than man can go. There are six other villages, three of them ten miles, and
the other three about twenty miles, to the east of Oraibi. They, also, are
perched upon high mesas, which thrust themselves, like long fingers, into
the sandy desert. On the middle mesa are Shungopavi, Mashongnovi and
Shipaulovi, while on the eastern mesa are Walpi, Sichomovi and Hano.
Sandstone Houses. All the houses are built of rude pieces of sandstone,
cemented with mud. Steps are made of larger slabs of stone, and often the
only means of access is by long ladders, the poles of which tower high
above the buildings, and give a singularly picturesque aspect to the
village. In the olden days, there were neither doors nor windows in the
first story of the houses. They were built so purposely, since they must
serve for fortresses as well as homes.
Hopi Wafer. Bread. One is often likely to find a woman engaged in making
piki. Piki is a wafer bread, peculiar to the Hopis. It is finer than the
finest tortilla of the Mexican, or oatcake of the Scotch. No biscuit maker
in America or England can make a cracker one-half so thin. The thinnest
cracker is thick compared with piki, and yet the Hopi make it with
marvelous dexterity. Cornmeal batter in a crude earthenware bowl, is the
material; a smooth, flat stone, under which a brisk fire is kept burning,
is the instrument; and the woman's quick fingers, spreading a thin layer of
the batter over the stone, perform the operation. It looks so easy. A lady
of one of my parties tried it once, and failed. My cook, a stalwart Kansas
City man, knew he would not fail. And he didn't. He had four of the
best-blistered fingers I have seen in a long time. But the Hopi woman
merely greases the stone, dips her fingers into the batter, carries them
lightly and carelessly over the heated surfaces, and, in a moment, strips
the already baked sheet from the stone. When several are baked, she folds
them over and over until they are about the size of an elongated shredded
wheat biscuit.
Hopi Women as Builders. It is a reversal of our conception of things to see
the "gentler sex " engaged in building a house, as is often the case in
Hopiland.
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