KINISHBA, THE BROWN HOUSE

site and the wide knowledge that has made possible the rebuilding of a city to the point where we can almost see the life as it went on. Bits of the story emerge as Dr. Cummings describes the ancient objects. There are for example, the tiny beads, 17,100 of them, now strung together to make 2812 feet and averaging 50 to the inch. Made of gray slate and red catinite or pipestone, they were found in two child burials, wound around the wrist of the body in each case. The beads are marvelously regular and one wonders where any such drill fine enough to make the holes could have been evolved in a comparatively crude culture. By experimenting, workers have figured out that a yucca point that had been fired could be used, after the beads were cut from squares and rounded patiently on a sand-stone surface. Sand and water was used in this process and other rock for the final polish.tangles. In the center of the white one is a black dot, the corn symbol and in the other pair is lightning, flanked by the triangular rain clouds with a water symbol in each. Did the artist have in mind some experience of storms which perhaps she feared? Or was she offering this in propitiation of the gods of those forces?

The modern Apache has contributed some things to the museum, too. Gayly colored bead-work; belts, headbands, watch fobs, purses all in intricate designs that are in contrast to the softer colors of the ancient pieces. A cradle board and Apache dolls, as well as baskets that were made on the reservation complete the picture of Kinishba to date.

One notices about the ancient ruin, with curiosity, that there are none of the usual round underground kivas, usually so prominent in ruins of the Pueblo Period. One un-Kinishba, the Brown House, in the White Mountains of Arizona, now partly restored, is a vivid reminder of an age and people long since gone. Destiny has left their story in brown stone walls and in the relics uncovered by painstaking excavations.

More than any man, the Dean has revealed the story of ages past.

Excavations show the heavy stone walls of Kinishba, thriving village and trade center of ancient times.

Sandals of prehistoric man of Kinishba made of yucca fibre. Museum contains many marks of ancient skilled artisan.

Polychrome Bowl with parrot design excavated at Kinishba. Surface of clay bowl was painted and baked and neither time nor weather has been able to erase design of artist.

Gayly patterned watchfobs of Apaches are among works of modern Indians at Kinishba Museum.

Modern Hopi baskets are displayed at Kinishba. Old and new make interesting contrasts.

An ancient pendant worn by head medicine men was found at Kinishba. Shell, turquoise used in design.

Apache belts show intricate artistry of modern Indians in designs of great beauty.

Antelope and deer jawbones were used in ceremonies to make hunt more successful. Many such relics have been uncovered at Kinishba.

Two beautiful examples of pottery found in Kinishba Ruin. Nowhere in southwest have finer examples of polychrome been found than in water jug at left. It is 114 inches high, 14 inches in diameter. Note lightning symbol.

Long since turned to dust are the busy hands of some ancient one who created this bowl dug out of ruins at Kinishba. It is now in museum.

Hand carved pipestone to be hung on string about neck is called "Cosmic Being." Resembles several creatures and probably had religious meaning.

Underground room in a small court may have been a kind of ancestor of the present Hopi ceremonial chamber. It is roughly 10 feet square and about 8 feet below the surface of the court. The refuse found in it indicates that it was used by the earlier people who lived here and that long before the later pueblo was abandoned, it was used only as a sort of a trash bin. By then, either the clans who still used the underground chambers, basing their ceremonies upon the legend of man's emergence from a lower world, had left, or had discarded the legend. The religious life of the community seemed to center in the large patio that is an imperfect rectangle, about 50x62 feet in size. A low bench of earth goes around it and people could come out from the room that almost completely enclosed it, to join in the social or religious activities.

Upon the altar that stands in the large patio, some of the sacred articles may have been laid while the medicine men performed ceremonies. One of these articles is a stone tablet, the largest that has been found with painting upon it, anywhere in the Southwest. It measures 36 inches in height, 16 inches in width and about 1½ inch in thickness. The formal picture of a priest with a headdress to symbolize clouds and lightening, his mask the face of the sun, has been painted on it. In each hand is a lightening wand and a stalk of corn is seen on either side of him. There are too, numerous pieces of jaw bones of deer and antelope with paintings on them, believed to have been used to get control over the spirit of the game when a hunt was about to begin.

Perhaps a priest who officiated at some of these rites wore one of the two beautiful pend ants that have been recovered. The largest of them is now at the Arizona State Museum and the second can be seen at Kinishba. It was made on a shell of a thick bivalve called glycimeris. Half of the shell was trimmed down on a hole bored close to the hinge. Using pine or juniper resin mixed with fine clay, many small matched pieces of turquoise were mounted over the shell with a shaped piece of abalone for centerpieces. Bits of turquoise are still highly prized by the Indian, whether he be Apache or Navajo and while they do not like to enter ancient ruins they are not above picking up these good-luck charms and will wear them for years.

Most of the tools and weapons that have been found point to a peaceful existence of labor with such hunting as was necessary. But there is no indication of a warlike spirit. Anyone who has a feeling for handwork and admires a finely turned object will look with pleasure on the stone hammers and axes, com-pleted only after untold hours of painstaking effort. Time was not a fleeting thing then, as it seems to be now, and there were the long winters when tasks of length and continuity were probably welcomed.

The sandals worn by these people and now resting on shelves in the museum do not look as though they were about 600 years old. Worn, yes, and some of them must have been discarded because of their holes, seen in the same spot where you find a hole in your shoe. Most of them were made of yucca fibre and there is variety in the weave and types of lac-ing. One scarcely however, expects anything as ephemeral as a sandal to outlive a whole civilization.

The visitor to Kinishba today sees a great mass of masonry which at one time had 210 ground floor rooms. Those nearest the museum have been left unrestored to show how they appeared when they had been excavated. The walls rise gradually so that around the small patio where the underground chamber has been restored, rooms are complete. The original fireplaces are often intact and metates rest on the earthen floors. Around the larger patio the rooms are two story and even three, where evidence was strongest that once they were so constructed. Across the ravine lies the untouched mound that marks an even larger portion of this community. No one can say whether or not there will some day be another Kinishba there. Its pots and ornaments, tools and even burials lie as they have these hundreds of years since they were abandoned.

The modern Apache is frank in saying that it may be because the early Kinishba people deserted their gods and discarded the old legends that their homes were abandoned and they themselves became a lost race.

The sun shines warmly on the White River Valley. It stands far from the bustle of modern life. Wars and the threat of wars have no meaning here. Its beauty is of yesterday. As people come to see it and are guided through the ruins by a kindly and wise Dr. Cummings, its contribution to our culture takes on lasting reality. The American people will be forever in his debt.

These were the tools of ancient man of Kinishba, tools made from hardest rock and shaped by hand.

"Hopi Hills of Home"

Arizona's only Pueblo tribe of Indians, the Hopis, are living under the guidance of the same god they worshiped when Lief the Lucky is reputed to have touched our eastern shores. This god is Nature.

In the highlands of the Grand Canyon Country where the desert itself has an elevation of 6200 feet above sea level, a gaunt ragged ledge of rock rears itself another 500 feet in the thin cool air. On that windswept height, which is roughly divided into three mesas, First. Second and Third, nine villages are located. In these pueblo villages live most of the 2700 Hopi Indians. This isolated Indian Kingdom has endured there for centuries. Besieged by Spanish invaders, harassed by hostile Indians, weakened by starvation, their ranks thinned by plagues, these unconquerable "Peaceful People" go serenely along through life, secure in the belief their red gods will preserve them.

The Hopis are farmers. One can follow their wanderings a thousand years back, by the deserted pueblos they left when drought or alkali drove them from the planting places. When they were forced to make their homes on top of the mesas, their backs were to the wall. and from that impregnable height they chose to make their last stand. Spanish armies have surrounded them, and slave stealing Mexicans, plunder-mad Navajos and Apaches attacked them time and again, but the Hopis are still entrenched on their "Hill".

Steep trails crawl up the hazardous cliffs, and up these trails for centuries was carried every drop of water used by the Indians. In summer the women dipped their earthern water jars into the spring which breaks out here and there at the foot of the mesa, and in winter they broke ice into cakes and carried it up to their homes. Those homes, built of rocks and adobe and sand, were brought bit by bit up the trails, and the great pine beams forming the roofs were carried by the men from the mountain sixty miles away, and in some manner elevated to the clifftop. Now there are roads winding up. Water is hauled in barrels, and when the crops are gathered they are brought to the storage rooms in wagonbeds. Much of the drudgery of existence has been eliminated from the daily life of the Hopi women, giving them more time for the weaving of baskets, and shaping, painting and baking of their world famous pottery.

We have our first historical report of the Hopi Indians from a journal kept in 1540, by the Spaniards. Coronado sent a detachment under the leadership of Captain Cardenas to find the Grand Canyon. 406 years ago these mounted soldiers appeared at the foot of the Hopi mesa, and panicked the Indians. Horses were new to them, as were the fire breathing wea-pons carried by the Spaniards. But the Hopi Gods were powerful so the priests sprinkled holy meal across the trails and told the invaders not to cross it. It worked that time, but a cen-tury later the villages were invaded and taken over by fanatical Catholic Priests. Missions were built on Oraibi, oldest continuously in-habited town in North America, and also at Awatobi, a Hopi settlement down on the desert. The Hopis endured these tyrants until 1680, when they arose in their wrath and killed all priests, their Hopi followers, and wrecked the Missions. Since then, no Christian religion has made an impression on the Hopi people. They cling tightly to their own Katcina deities. Efforts have been made to move the Hopis from their rocky perch but they are a tribe that revere their old people, and follow in their footsteps. The medicine men are tied to the mesas by a thousand hidden shrines. Their dreams and visions tell them that once lured from their ancestral homes, the Hopi people are finished. Never a dance is held without one of the old men addressing the watchers in these words: "Other gods may help some peo-ple, but our only chance for a good life is with the gods of our fathers. We must never forsake them even though our ceremonies die out before our eyes, and our shrines are neglect-ed!"

The Hopi religion is a happy one. Their homage is paid to Katcinas, and the Katcinas want merriment, and dancing and feasting. Sadness and anger drive the gods away and they take the rainclouds with them.

"Rain is what we need most," the old men say. "When our Cloud Gods examine ourhearts and find them good and happy they'll send rain. Keep bad thoughts behind you, and face the morning sun with a cheerful spirit." Rain is indeed their greatest need. They depend upon the scant crops they raise for food, and the annual average rainfall in Hopiland is less than 10 inches. Worse than that,-about nine inches of the rainfall happens all at once in the shape of summer cloudbursts which send floods down each coulee and wash, taking the planted plots with them. Moisture lingers longer in the sandy soil of the washes and so corn is planted there.

"Corn is life, and piki the perfect food," the Hopi man says each morning before he eats his breakfast. He takes a pinch of the parchment bread (piki), steps out to face the sun and, holding the offering upward he prays for long life and always for rain.

Perhaps the most powerful of the Hopi gods is the Sun. All other clans and their Katcinas come under the dominance of the Sun Clan, whose Chief sits on top of their kiva and watches the progress of the Sun day by day, as it moves toward its summer home. His clan and the clans of the Moon and Stars have worked diligently all winter long to halt the progress of their deity as it moved toward the Land of Cold and Darkness. Together they managed to halt its journey and turn it back toward Hopiland. The Sun Chief marked each day's journey by untying a knot in the cotton string he kept with him. When the shadows touched a certain sacred rock he began to untie a knot each day, and at the right time he sent the Chief Crier up to the rooftops to announce: "The time is here when the sweet corn, the colored corn, the string beans and chili are to be planted. Go down to the fields tomorrow and bury those seeds!"

The fields were prepared waiting for this announcement. During the Month of Strong Winds (March) all the weeds and trash were piled in the center of each plot and burned so