HOPI HILLS OF HOME

that the ashes might replenish the earth. Windblown sand was moved from the planting places, and the brush hedges repaired so they could serve to keep the strong wind from beating and breaking tender young plants.

Then in the Waiting Month (April) they all went again to the fields accompanied by their Medicine Men, and each plot was sprinkled with sacred meal and pollen. The kindly Katcinas were implored to protect the land from hailstorms and grasshoppers; from cut-worms and crows, burros and blackbirds, and not to overlook hungry Navajos who might stop to steal corn. While the men scattered meal and prayed, the women cooked a mutton stew to feed them. The day ended in a community rabbit kill. Meat was needed, and dead rabbits eat no growing crops.

The sweet corn was planted six inches deep, and a little hollow left above the seeds to make a trap for the sun's rays. The hardy colored corn was wrapped in wads of wet clay, rejected by the pottery makers, and dropped into deep holes made by a forked greasewood planting stick. The old men would not permit the use of iron hoes or planting sticks because iron offends the earth. Corn hills were spaced some fifteen feet apart and if the plat was exposed to strong winds, a little brush corral was built around each hill.

Another few days and the Chief Crier ordered the planting of melons, pumpkins and squash. When all the knots in the string were untied, he announced that it was now too late for more planting.

Harvesting of the crops is conducted in the same way under the direction of the Sun Chief and his Crier.

During the growing season the feeble old people and young boys are left to guard the fields. Brush shelters are erected for them and food and water carried to them at intervals. The old men spend the long summer hours knitting the footless stockings worn by older Hopis, and in carding and twisting and spinning yarn which they will weave into blankets and belts during winter hours in the underground kivas. All weaving in Hopiland is done by the men folks. Even the ceremonial robes the red and green belts, and the tribal dresses for the women are made for them by their menfolk.

The men farmers have to leave their fields frequently during the growing season in order to take part in the dances honoring Katcinas. These gods have homes in the snow capped San Francisco Peaks, and from January to July they pay unexpected visits to see if their Hopi children are keeping their hearts merry, and paying due homage to laughter and song. Katcinas are happy deities and a sad heart cannot expect their approbation. When the Katcina figures appear, all work on pottery making, basket weaving, farming or sheepherding must be stopped by grown-ups, and the gods attended. Groups of chanters accompany the dancers, and the villagers bring out baskets of dried peaches, corn, beans, loaves of crisp brown bread, dried meat and piñon nuts as gifts to the Katcinas. These gifts are accepted and distributed among the children who sit wide eyed watching the dancers. Many times, the small dolls carved from dried cottonwood or willow roots, and decorated and painted to resemble the Katcinas, are presented to the children. By means of these dolls the children learn the legends of the Clans, and the special offices of each group of Katcinas. The Hopi Dolls are very much prized by collectors, and the quaint little figures, garish in color and decoration have found their way into every corner of the world.

The summer-long Katcina Dances lead up to the climax, the Snake Dance. In July there is a specially gorgeous spectacle when all the Katcinas make their last appearance in the "Going Home Dance." They retire then to their mountains and make way for the activities of the Antelope and Snake Clan. Late in August, odd years on Old Walpi, even years at some of the Second and Third Mesa villages, this spectacular ceremony dedicated to the Water Gods is held. Snake Dance time is home coming week for Hopis whether they have wandered far or near. This is a nine day ceremony, culminating in the sunset half hour when the public is admitted to watch the Snake Priests crow-step around the rocky plaza dangling rattlesnakes from their lips. These snakes are handled with reverence and trust, and should a dancer find that a snake has sunk its fangs into him, he'll have only himself to blame. All good Hopis know that if the dancers have lived clean honorable lives they will not be bitten! Even so, no serious harm seems to come to the unlucky dancer that gets struck with the poisonous fangs.

The Snake Dance is the grand climax of the year's prayers for rain, and it is sometimes answered in a very destructive manner. Since the Hopis can't offend their gods by saying: "Send us rain, not too much or too fast, but just the right amount in the proper places!" they often find themselves digging their cornfields from under mud deposits, or trying to untangle their floodswept pumpkin vines, in case they can locate them at all. Once the Hopis were desperate for water. They invited their distant Zuni cousins to send over a team of Rainmakers and try their magic on the stingy water gods The Zunis went, and performed their Rain Dance. It was early in the fall, but in a short time such a heavy snowstorm swept over the Hopi country the flocks were buried in the drifts, fuel was hard to locate in the deep snow, and altogether it was quite a disaster. Since then the Hopis depend on their own efforts.

Although the Hopis rejected the Spanish priests and their religion, they were shrewd enough to hold on to the gifts brought by the Spaniards. Today the Hopis are famous for their small juicy peaches. These peaches are from seedlings tended by the priests while they lived in that country. They got also apricots and chili peppers and learned how to make the outdoor ovens so much in use today. They copied the Spanish custom of putting a corner fireplace in their houses and building a chimney to carry away the smoke. They accepted gifts of sheep and horses. The horses soon became Navajo property, but sheep are an important item in Hopi economics. Mutton and corn keep starvation away from the mesas.

Corn is used in a score of ways by the Hopi housewife. In every home there is a secluded corn room and here the ears of brightly colored corn are stacked in neat rows, red and yellow, white and the typical Hopi blue ears make a gay mosaic. Three grinding trays are sunk in the floor and in the first tray the grains are broken into large bits. The next grinding stone is finer and this tray takes care of ordinary meal for thickening stews, for making the sweet puddings and fried cornbread. But the third tray, with its fine grained metate and mano pulverizes the meal until it is fine enough to make piki bread, and even the special meal used by the priests in their ceremonies. Piki is made for special dance days and for all ceremonial feasts. It is usually ground from the blue or red corn, and baked in wafer thin sheets on a hot smooth stone. While it is still hot it is folded time and again and rolled into small cylinders. This piki is always given to the Katcinas when they visit the mesa.

NOT TAMARAC, BUT TAMARISK:

Was sorry to see a bad mistake on plant names appear in a late number of Arizona Highways. What was called a "Tamarac" should have been called a Tamarix, or Tamarisk.

A Tamarack is a "larch," a deciduous conifer native to the eastern United States; whereas a Tamarix (Tamarix family) is an evergreen from North Africa, often planted in Arizona for a windbreak and shade. It bears pink to white flowers.

H. C. Bryant, Superintendent Grand Canyon National Park.

The January issue of Arizona Highways came and I was surprised to note what I consider a serious error in the use of "Tamarack" for "Tamarisk."

I made the same error on coming to Arizona 40 years ago but was corrected by Prof. J. J. Thornber of the University of Arizona. Since then I have corrected hundreds of others and explained the difference between the two trees. The Tamarisk is our Arizona tree and was imported from Algeria. The Tamarack is the American larch and grows mostly in the Great Lakes region.

Kindly check the difference in any standard dictionary, botany, or by consulting any instructor in botany.

I am interested in correcting this error whenever and wherever I notice it and not as a criticism of the editor.

Very truly yours, A. E. Vinson Tucson, Arizona.

COMPLIMENTS FROM AN OLD ARZIONAN:

My congratulations on your last issue of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. It tops everything you have ever gotten out. I may avail myself of the opportunity on my national broadcast to recommend Arizona to tourists this summer.

I would greatly appreciate it if you could obtain and send to me the various legends of the Hassayampa Waters. I have a recollection of many stories from my boyhood, but they are rather confused now. If you know of any good book of legends of Arizona Indians particularly interesting to children, I would be most grateful if you would let me know where I can obtain them...

ADVENTURES OF A SUBSCRIPTION:

... My nephew F/O E. B. Richardson R. A. F. who finished his training at Mesa, now stationed at Madras, India wants to get some of your publications.

The enclosed correspondence (which please return) gives an interesting insight on the difficulties encountered trying to do so. By this letter (also enclosed) which he sent to his mother who forwarded it to me, he evidently had previously written you. So now I am sending a Bank Money Order value Five Dollars on his behalf. Might I suggest that when the parcel of magazines is sent it should be declared as a gift, which I think would make it exempt from any excise duty charged?

TO ARIZONA HIGHWAYS This is in acknowledgement of your letter dated 15th October, 1945.

I have tried to purchase an International Money Order out here, but I am told that there is no money order service to the U. S. A. I am, therefore, having one sent from England.

If possible, I should like all the back copies of 1945 that you can supply and all copies of 1946.

E. B. Richardson, Air Booking Center Madras, India.

TO MAJ. CHARLES DRAKE, Winnipeg, Man, Canada: I wonder if you could do something for me? Edward wants some magazines of Arizona, published in Arizona and asked me to send a money order for them. I had to fill in a form for permission to do so and that has been refused. I hear U.S.A. is one of the most difficult countries to deal with I think I can guess why-but no matter. If I am successful in sending you £1, perhaps you being nearer might manage to get it to Arizona. Edward is particularly keen on having them and getting them bound someday, as there are wonderful photos of places he has actually visited.

I am enclosing a letter I wrote to you on Edward's behalf, but it's no use, as you will see by the enclosed form. The Bank tells me it is because of the Dollar Balance, so here it must drop, but I send it on to you as I had written it... Janie, Worthing, England.

A HOME IN ARIZONA:

For the year 1943-44 my friend George Gorham made me a subscription of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS and in 1944 he joined the U. S. Army Air Force, came to England and was killed over Germany on his first mission.

We had planned to make our home in Arizona some place, and the idea was not a new one because in 1938 I, with another Englishman pumped on an English Tandem all the way from New York to Hollywood and although we did not touch Phoenix on the way, which was over Highway 66, we did divert ourselves a bit here and there and dropped south from Ashfork to Prescott and then to Wickenburg where we again turned West. Anyway it was a swell ride and then the war. My friend came back earlier than I because he had business here, but I got home just before England went to war with Germany, and now, well it's all over and the future has to be looked into pretty closely because I have developed a nervous affliction on one side of the neck and shoulder which the medical fraternity say can be cured and kept cured if I go to a warm dry climate for the winters.

Well, I guess it means Arizona because of all the places in the world I have been to, there is not one to compare with Arizona which seems to have everything.

I've got to get over a lot of Government restrictions both here and in the U. S. I think, and I do so need help and advice about it all. I'm not short of cash. Perhaps somebody out there will be glad to give me some advice? I suppose I should make a visit first and do some real sightseeing, but I have it in my bones that I'd like to buy myself or build myself, a decent shack either in the White Mountain district which was the subject matter of your issue of April 1943 or in the Flagstaff district which was so lovely and warm when we went through it in September 1938. Would it be asking too much for some advice?

It has been impossible to get dollars to send you but at last an American soldier found me four which I'm mailing to you under separate cover, hoping that you can dig up some back numbers of Arizona Highways to send me.

Some of the people, very likely the press in Prescott and Flagstaff, and Williams and Ashfork, all of which gave us space on the ride, will remember us.

Roy Fitz Clarence-Langford Carton Hall, Carton Street, Portman Square, London W1, England.

THREE GIRLS ON A COVER:

We received a copy of your "Arizona Highways" a while back and found three (3) very attractive girls on the back cover. We were wondering if you would send their names.

The magazine in which we refer to is Volume XXI, Number 9, September, 1945. We believe that is all the information about finding said picture has been given.

Three Arizonans R. B. Hallcroft, Bob Gardner, Joe Nelson, Nagoya, Japan.

"The Road.........

The road this month is a gravel round loafing along its merry and carefree way across the desert. In engineering terms it is called a "secondary road," part of a vast network that connects isolated ranches, mines, farming areas and communities with the smart, slick, modern primary road system of Arizona. A secondary road, not hard-surfaced, is well ditched, well maintained, and it follows the engineer's survey stakes rather than a wandering cow's sometimes temperamental peregrinations. The charm of such roads is their isolation and the surprising places to which they lead. These are the roads that boldly strike out across country, with a sort of devil-may-care attitude. These are the roads that take you into the heart of the smiling land.

"The Joshua"

This strange grotesque tree seems like an echo from some dim, dark age of long ago. Yet it dwells peacefully in isolated parts of our desert and seems to be quite at home. When the tantalizing juices of spring creep up the crazily bent limbs it becomes a tree of gaiety and great beauty.