The Unwritten Literature of the Hopi | Page 7

the ruins of old Sikyatki, made her the master craftsman and developed
a new standard for pottery-making in her little world.
Mention was made previously of the women employing their leisure in
the making of baskets or pottery. An interesting emphasis should be
placed upon the "or," for no village does both. The women of the three
villages mentioned at First Mesa as pottery villages make no baskets.
The three villages on Second Mesa make a particular kind of coiled
basket found nowhere else save in North Africa, and no pottery nor any
other kind of basket. The villages of Third Mesa make colorful twined
or wicker baskets and plaques, just the one kind and no pottery. They
stick as closely to these lines as though their wares were protected by
some tribal "patent right." Pottery for First Mesa, coiled baskets for
Second Mesa, and wicker baskets for Third Mesa.
The writer has known the Hopi a long time, and has asked them many
times the reason for this. The villages are only a few miles apart, so the
same raw materials are available to all. These friends merely laugh
good naturedly and answer: "O, the only reason is, that it is just the way
we have always done it."
Natural conservatives, these Hopi, and yet not one of them but likes a
bright new sauce-pan from the store for her cooking, and a good iron
stove, for that matter, if she can afford it. There is no tradition against
this, we are told.
[Illustration: Figure 2.--Walpi.
--Photo by Bortell.]
More than two centuries ago, these Tewas came from the Rio Grande
region, by invitation of the Walpi, to help them defend this village (See
Figure 2) from their Navajo, Apache, and Piute enemies. They were
given a place on the mesa-top to build their village, at the head of the
main trail, which it was their business to guard, and fields were allotted
them in the valley below.
They are a superior people, intelligent, friendly, reliable, and so closely
resemble the Hopi that they can not be told apart.
The two peoples have intermarried freely, and it is hard to think of the

Tewas otherwise than as "one kind of Hopi." However, they are of a
distinctly different linguistic stock, speaking a Tewa language brought
from the Rio Grande, while the Hopi speak a dialect of the Shoshonean.
It is an interesting fact that all Tewas speak Hopi as well as Tewa,
whereas the Hopi have never learned the Tewa language. The Hopi
have a legend accounting for this:
"When the Hano first came, the Walpi said to them, 'Let us spit in your
mouths and you will learn our tongue,' and to this the Hano consented.
When the Hano came up and built on the mesa, they said to the Walpi,
'Let us spit in your mouths and you will learn our tongue,' but the
Walpi would not listen to this, saying it would make them vomit. This
is the reason why all the Hano can speak Hopi, and none of the Hopi
can talk Hano."[10]
[Footnote 10: Mindeleff, Cosmos, Traditional History of Tusayan
(After A.M. Stephen): Bureau American Ethnology, vol. 8, p. 36,
1887.]
=Man's Work=
The work of the men must now be accounted for lest the impression be
gained that the industry of the women leaves the males idle and
carefree.
It is but fair to the men to say that first of all they carry the community
government on their shoulders, and the still more weighty affairs of
religion. They are depended upon to keep the seasonal and other
ceremonies going throughout the year, and the Hopi ceremonial
calendar has its major event for each of the twelve months, for all of
which elaborate preparation must be made, including the manufacture
and repair of costumes and other paraphernalia and much practicing
and rehearsing in the kivas. Someone has said much of the Hopi man's
time is taken up with "getting ready for dances, having dances, and
getting over dances." Yes, a big waste of time surely to you and me, but
to the Hopi community--men, women, and children alike--absolutely
essential to their well-being. There could be no health, happiness,
prosperity, not even an assurance of crops without these ceremonies.
The Hopi is a good dry farmer on a small scale, and farming is a
laborious business in the shifting sands of Hopiland. Their corn is their
literal bread of life and they usually keep one year's crop stored. These
people have known utter famine and even starvation in the long ago,

and their traditions have made them wise. The man tends the fields and
flocks, makes mocassins, does the weaving of the community (mostly
ceremonial garments) and usually brings in the wood for fuel, since it