Summer is an easy time for the people of Cliff Palace, a warm, lazy time. There are certain tasks to be performed but there is also much leisure time for sleeping in the shade, gossiping, gambling and trading. There is not the restless activity which was so evident during the spring. Life proceeds at a slow, easy pace.
The early summer is dry and warm. Little rain can be expected until in July; sometimes it does not come until August. The crops in the fields must live on the moisture stored in the earth and the people must live on the water they have stored in their pools and water jars, and the daily flow from the springs. Water is always the critical problem but this year conditions are very favorable.
June is often the hottest month of the summer. The sky is cloudless and the sun beats down day after day, drawing the moisture out of the earth. In the sun the temperature is high but the shade is cool and pleasant. The air is dry and a light breeze always blows across the mesa tops. The shade of even a small tree brings relief from the warmth of the sun.
Little clothing is worn. The women have small aprons of dangling yucca fiber strings while the men may wear loin-cloths of buckskin or cotton cloth. Children wear nothing at all. Yucca fiber sandals usually are worn by both men and women when they leave the cave but they are not essential about the city itself. The people of Cliff Palace are not clothes conscious and with their rich brown skins they need no protection from the sun. Even the men, who spend long hours in the sunny fields, need no covering.
The farmers are all smiles for their crops are growing prodigiously. Corn, beans and squash are growing well. Weeds are also prospering and the men pull them up or chop them out with their digging sticks. If the weeds are not destroyed, they take moisture that the crops need.
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Every morning, not long after sunrise, the men trot up to the fields. For a few hours they work industriously, chopping weeds or loosening the soil around the plants. Earth is kept piled up around the stalks of corn. It was planted almost a foot deep and this heaping up of the earth around the hills puts the roots even farther underground. At that depth there is an abundance of moisture in the soil.
Along towards noon, when the sun is high over head and the heat becomes noticeable, the men end their labors. Some of them trot back down to the cave for a late breakfast. Others, whose fields are farther from the town, have brought their lunches and they spend the warm midday hours in the shade of the trees which border their fields.
These men have a deep, inborn love for farming. They are descended from a thousand years of successful farmers and a fanatical desire to make things grow is in their blood. They often go to the fields when there is nothing to be done. The weeds have been cut, the soil is well loosened, everything is just right. Still the men go to the fields to spend the hours among the growing things. Every hill of corn, every bean plant receives individual attention. Endlessly the men work about the fields, even though they only pick an occasional bug off the plants.
During the midday siesta the men often gather in little groups and while away the hours telling of crops of the past or dreaming of the harvest that is to come. Those hours are not always spent idly for there are many tasks the men can do as they sit in the shade. One man may chip arrowheads; another may whittle away on his new bow. Here a man is patching his sandals while his neighbor puts a new blade on his digging stick. Much can be accomplished during these hours when the sun is high and the shade is welcome.
The fields are never left without watchers. All day long someone is on guard and even during the night the young men and boys take turns watching the precious crops. Rabbits and squirrels eat the beans, and ravens and crows pull up the tender young corn plants. In a few hours a field can be ruined. Later on in the summer, crows, jays and ravens will tear at the ears of corn and eat great holes in the tender squashes. Even the coyotes like the squashes and as one of the animals trots through the field he may take great bites out of half a dozen. Faced with this danger, the farmers are forced to watch the fields day and night. The unmarried boys build brush shelters in the fields and spend much of the summer there, dreaming of the chubby little maidens for whom they will soon be farming.
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Modern Indian corn grown by ancient methods in the Mesa Verde experimental field
Remains of terraces which provided garden plots for the early farmers
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The boys do not like to spend the night in the fields for witches are most active during the hours of darkness and it is a bad time to be away from the town. When a coyote howls or an owl hoots, they know it may be a witch so they throw more wood on their fires and smear ashes on their foreheads to keep the witches away.
As the dry weather of summer continues the people show much concern over the water supply. They know that if the late summer rains come normally, they will have more than enough. But if, as sometimes happens, the rains fail to come, they will be in serious trouble. They prepare for this possibility by carefully conserving the supplies. In order to save the water that is stored in the jars and in the pools below the cave the springs are utilized to the utmost. There are many of these springs along the canyon walls at the foot of the cliffs. One of the finest is across the canyon, under the great ceremonial building where the priests hold their most important ceremonies. It is almost half a mile by trail to the spring but it has a strong flow of water. In spite of the long, tiresome journey, the water must be saved. That is one of the tragedies in the lives of the men. They are forced to carry the water home from distant springs—on their wives’ heads.
Each morning the women make the round of the springs to gather the water that has accumulated. At each place where there is a seepage they have made a basin of well-tamped blue shale. The water does not seep readily through this shale and a pool of clear water results. The best springs are visited several times a day so that the pools do not overflow. With their long-handled ladles the women dip the water into their jars, some of which hold as much as five gallons. The heavy jars are then borne home on their heads. Years of practice have given them strong necks, straight backs and a smooth, flowing stride. They chat happily as they trot home with their burdens: life is gay and easy with nothing to do but carry water up out of the canyon. By carrying the water jars on their heads 82 the women have their hands free when they climb the rows of toe-holds that are cut into the more precipitous cliffs. Ladders that lead up over the terraced houses are simple: the water carriers trot up them without deigning to touch their hands to the poles.
Each woman has a small pad of yucca fibers, shaped like a large doughnut, which she places between her head and the water jar. This pad helps in balancing the burden and keeps her calloused head from cracking the precious jar.
Every effort is made to conserve the water supply, for as the warm weather continues the springs begin to dwindle and the pools shrink. There is no repairing and building of houses; water cannot be spared for the mortar. Pottery is seldom made at this time for that, too, requires water. By using it only for human needs the supply can be drawn out for months if necessary.
In addition to their water carrying activities the women are also busy gathering the edible plants that are so common during the summer. These plants add variety to the diet and help to conserve the stores of grain. In June the mesa tops are covered with flowers of all kinds and the women admire them and call them by name as they search for the plants that have value as food or medicine. The leaves and fruit of the prickly pear are eaten; also the beautiful waxy flowers and the tender flower stem of the yucca. Lily bulbs, wild onions, beeweed, sumac berries and Mormon tea are only a few of the natural products which the women gather. They know every seed, root, bulb, berry and plant that has value and they search the mesas and canyons in order to obtain these additional foods and flavors.
Occasionally the women interrupt the usual routine of their daily tasks in order to give birth to babies. It is a pleasant diversion for children are highly prized in this society. A woman continues her regular work almost until time for the happy event. Being strong and active she ordinarily goes through it without great difficulty. Her mother is in charge of the affair but if all does not go well, a medicine man is called in to chant her through her troubles.
Shortly after birth the baby is bathed and is rubbed with juniper ashes to protect it from witches and other evil influences. It is then placed on a bed of hot sand and a perfect ear of corn 83 is kept always beside it. For twenty days the mother and child are kept in the house away from strong light and every fifth day the mother’s hair is washed with yucca suds and she is bathed with water in which juniper twigs have been boiled.
At sunrise on the twentieth day the child’s head is washed. Then its grandmother on its father’s side takes it to the top of the cliff and with a little ceremony of prayer, dedicates it to the Sun Father. On this day it is named and since all of its aunts and both grandmothers have the privilege of giving it a name, the baby may receive a dozen. One name finally wins out and the others are forgotten.
For several months the child is kept on a cradle board most of the time. This is merely a thin, smooth board to which the child is bound with soft folds of cotton cloth or buckskin and a lacing of strings. No pillow is provided and the soft, pliable head rests on the hard board month after month. The result is obvious. Gradually the back of the head flattens until it fits the board.
This change of head shape has no effect on the child except in the matter of appearance. As the skull presses in at the back it bulges out over the ears. The brain adjusts itself to the changing shape of its container and suffers no ill effects. As a result of the use of this hard cradle board, all of the people have the deformity on the back of the head. Sometimes it is terrific and the head is as wide as it is long.
The cradle board makes the care of the child very simple. The mother may carry it on her back as she goes about her work. She may hang it on a tree or on a roof pole or lean it up against the house. When the child is on its cradle board it is in no danger of rolling off the roof or over a cliff. Occasionally it is taken off the cradle and the juniper bark pad that serves as a diaper is changed. When the child reaches the age where it must learn to walk, it will be released from the cradle and will be placed in the constant care of an older sister or some other little girl of its clan.
For the first six or seven years, children lead carefree lives. They have no responsibilities and nothing is expected of them except that they survive and be happy. If they do wrong they are seldom punished physically but are talked to at great 84 length. And quite often they are frightened into good behavior by tales of witches and what they do to bad children.
All of the children are up at dawn and the day’s play begins. The very young ones must stay within the cave where they climb over the houses and play on the roofs and in the courts. After they are a little older they play on the canyon slope below the cave and finally they are big enough to play along the cliffs beside the town. All through the day the echoes of their voices and laughter fill the canyon.
At the age of six or seven, this life of constant play ends and they begin to learn, by imitating their parents, all they must know to fit into the life of the community. A little girl follows her mother wherever she goes and imitates her in every activity. When the mother makes pottery her small daughter makes crude, miniature pieces: when the mother bakes corn cakes her little shadow bakes tiny cakes of mud and, after a time, is allowed to use the precious corn meal itself. When the mother goes to the spring the little girl trots at her heels and soon she is carrying small jars of water on her head. She spends long hours at the grinding bin and equally long hours caring for younger brothers and sisters. As she grows older, she accepts more and more responsibility and finally, when marriage comes, she is an accomplished housewife.
In the same manner the small boy goes through a long period of training. At sunrise he tumbles out of his blankets to listen and watch attentively as his father says his morning prayer and tosses an offering of corn meal or corn pollen to the gods of dawn. He follows his father to the fields and as soon as he is old enough, accompanies him on hunting trips. When his father makes bows, arrows, flint knives, bone awls and the many other tools, the boy imitates him, in miniature, and gradually learns all the necessary crafts.
Most important of all to the youth is his religious education and this is in the hands of his “ceremonial father.” When the boy was born one of his mother’s brothers was selected for this task and he is responsible for the religious training of his young nephew. The two spend long hours together as the uncle tells the legends and beliefs of the tribe. Since there is no written language, these can be learned only through hearing them 85 repeated over and over. During the first years of training the boy learns only the general things which all the people may know but when he is twelve or fourteen he is ready for the secret part of his religious training. Under the sponsorship of his “ceremonial father” he is taken into one of the kivas and initiated into the secret society to which his “ceremonial father” belongs. Now he is taught the secrets of the society and its ceremonies and soon he begins to take part in the ceremonial work. From this time on the kiva plays an important part in the young man’s life. He goes there not only for ceremonial purposes but to work, loaf, gamble or even to sleep. If his mother’s house is crowded with younger children, he may sleep in his kiva most of the time until he marries. And even after marriage he may sleep within the safe confines of the kiva during occasional periods of strife in his home.
As the dry weather continues the men keep an anxious eye on the sky. Certain conditions must develop before the rains can come. In June there is a sigh of relief from the farmers. The sky is no longer a solid canopy of blue. Along the northeastern horizon great white clouds begin to appear. At first they are small but each day they grow larger. Soon they are tremendous, billowy, white thunderheads that boil up until they cover half the sky. Soon they will break and the worries of the farmers will be over.
The crops are growing well. By the end of June the corn is almost knee high and the men thin it out. The weak stalks are pulled out of each hill leaving the five or six strongest ones. The fight against weeds is continued but during most of the summer the men have a great deal of time for other activities.
During the times when they are not completely occupied with their farms they work at their various crafts and as a result there is much trading. Each man needs certain things such as turkey feather blankets, cotton blankets, jewelry, tanned buckskin, sandals, leggings, bows, arrows, planting sticks, stone knives and scrapers, yucca fiber cords and ropes, axes, hammers, and countless other things. Some of the men can and do make any or all of these things. Most of the men, however, specialize on the things they can do best and trade for their other necessities.
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In one house lives a man who makes splendid arrowheads. Next door is an old fellow who is famous for his cotton blankets. Upstairs is an axe maker and still higher, in the third story house, is a man who specializes in tanning buckskin. Across the court is a young fellow who is especially adept at twisting yucca fibers into cords and ropes. In another part of the city is one who makes feather blankets; somewhere else is a jeweler. Some of the men make a number of different things but few of them make all of the items they need.
The result of this semi-specialization is that there is much trading. This is true not only within Cliff Palace but also between the various villages. Within a mile of the large city are more than thirty cliff dwellings. Up the canyon to the north are ten and directly across the canyon, within easy calling distance, are two very small ones. Around the point behind the great, mesa-top, ceremonial building are five, down the canyon are eleven and in the next canyon to the east are several more. In more distant canyons are hundreds of other villages, large and small.
Trails lead from one to the next and when a man needs something he trots off to the place where he knows he can find it. He spends the day at his trading even though he needs only a single stone knife. He may visit two or three men who make knives, haggling with each. In between times he gossips with friends. When meal time comes he pulls up beside any convenient food bowl and is a welcome though uninvited guest. After overeating he takes a nap, then returns to his trading. Toward the end of the day he makes a deal and sets out for home. The same bargain could have been made early in the morning but that would have robbed him of all the day’s pleasure.
Since Cliff Palace is so large it is the scene of much trading, for men from the smaller villages can find anything they want somewhere in the city. Early in the morning they come trotting up the trail to spend the day in the cool shadowy cave trading for what they need. When the heat of the day is over they set out for home with their new possessions.
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Bone and stone tools
Top: Bone needle, bone awls, bone scraper, stone knife and arrowheads
Middle: Highly polished stone blade
Bottom: Stone axe, hammer and hammerstone
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Sometimes men of other tribes come to trade and there is great excitement in the city. The strangers not only bring beautiful jewelry and much-needed cotton and salt but they bring news from the outside world. This is almost as important as the actual objects of trade and before the trading can begin, the people must hear what is going on outside their own little world.
The news that the welcome traders bring is of an infinite variety. It may concern the weather, the crops, the hunting conditions, or the private affairs of the people. The news may be bad: somewhere a village has been visited by a scourge of dysentery and half of the children are dead; in one region a plague of grasshoppers has destroyed the crops; somewhere else a forest fire has wiped out the entire population; in another place the enemy tribes are becoming stronger and village after village is being wiped out. There is no joy when these things are told. But more often the news is good: there is a fine crop of pinon nuts on a distant mountain; in a certain region the deer are as thick as lice on an old man’s head; a new vein of turquoise has been discovered that yields hard, blue stones. Much of the news is of a personal nature: there has been a murder; in a certain village a woman has had triplets; a man has been thrown out by his mother-in-law because he snored too loudly; a certain priest is having miraculous luck with his healing ceremonies; a deformed child has been born; a well-known chief has gone blind.
Much of the news is pure gossip and it is repeated time after time, gaining spice and details with each telling. There is no restraint in discussions concerning intimate personal affairs and every new bit of scandal is relished by the fireside listeners. The travelers who bring news from distant regions expect an even trade for they must return home with a full stock of news for their own people.
The news which has the greatest effect upon the listeners is that concerning the enemy raiders. For generations the threat has been increasing. So far the Mesa Verde has not suffered but the people know the danger is coming closer each year. There are so many villages on the great, protective mesa that they have always felt safe. In the caves are hundreds of cliff dwellings, all easily defended, and since each village is within shouting distance of the next, help could quickly be summoned. But the savage raiders grow bolder and stronger. Sooner or later they will come climbing up to the top of the Mesa Verde to steal women and corn, even though it is a long way to go for corn.
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Except for these alarming bits of news, the visits of the traders are festive occasions. Everyone marvels at the things they bring. The men bargain endlessly and the exchange of news continues day after day. The women cook their finest dishes and the dusty travelers are honored guests. After days of friendly visiting and trading, they start back down the trail bearing the good wishes of the people of Cliff Palace.
Gambling is also a common indulgence among the men and much of the exchange of goods is through gambling rather than trading. At any time of the day a knot of interested onlookers can be seen somewhere in the city, silently watching some game of chance. Anything that has the slightest value can be gambled. The stakes may be only insignificant objects, or a man may stake everything he possesses against a single fine piece of jewelry. It may be a guessing contest, a game of skill, or a pure game of chance in which small carved bones are thrown on the floor and the winner is determined by the manner in which the bones turn up. Someone wins, someone loses, and no one is hurt. By a few days of diligent labor a man can replace any of the things lost, except jewelry, which has the greatest value of any of his possessions. Necklaces, pendants, and earrings are made of turquoise, colored stones and sea shells. Some of them are exquisite: the beads of turquoise or stone are sometimes so fine that there are thousands of them on a single necklace. Such a necklace requires weeks of painstaking labor.
Toward the middle of July there is an ominous threat in the air each afternoon. Billowing thunderheads fill the sky and turn to a dark angry shade. Sudden gusts of wind rip across the mesa tops threatening to uproot the corn and there is a distant roll of thunder. The air is heavy and depressing. Each day the skies become darker. Except for the men who are watching fields, the people stay close to the cave. No one wants to be far from shelter when the storm breaks.
At last the day comes. By noon the sky is filled with heavy clouds. Shortly afternoon there is a sudden roar of wind. Cannonading crashes of thunder echo constantly through the canyons and searing tongues of lightning flick the treetops. Suddenly, all is still. Not a leaf stirs; the world is breathless. The storm draws back its arm for one quiet moment, then mercilessly 91 lashes the earth with floods of rain. Wind, thunder and lightning resume and for a noisy hour the mesas bow their heads under the wrath of the elements.
A roaring waterfall shoots out over the front of Cliff Palace cave and from the bottom of the canyon comes the roar of a rushing stream. The people are silent as they watch the storm from their sheltered housetops. There is joy in their hearts, for the rain ends all worries, but there is an ominous note in the terrible fury of the storm. The male rains of summer are often like this. They make a great show of noise and power, far different from the gentle female rains of spring.
In an hour the storm ends as suddenly as it began. The rain stops, the clouds break up and the sun beams down on a dripping world.
Immediately the men are off to the fields to see if the crops have suffered. The drenched watchers, whose brush shelters were poor protection against the storm, assure them that little damage has been done. Some of the corn is down but it will straighten up. The only real loss is that a few terraces have washed out but that is not serious for the terrace crops are important only in dry years when the mesa-top fields fail.
There is great rejoicing in Cliff Palace. The harvests are assured for now that the rains have started they will continue. Every few days for the rest of the summer there will be a rain, sometimes heavy, sometimes light. The danger of water shortage is definitely ended. All of the pools are full of fresh water and the springs will soon flow with renewed vigor as the rain water reaches them. There is water in abundance and the people no longer need to use it so sparingly.
With the arrival of the rains the heat is broken. The days are cooler now and large, fluffy clouds float about the sky, sending their cool shadows racing across the earth. The nights are sometimes so cool that a feather blanket is necessary for comfort.
As July turns into August the people are happy and contented. All goes well; there are no threats to their security. The fields are bursting with growth and the springs are flowing freely. Those are the two important things in their lives. There is no press of work at this time of the year and life is easy. The men 92 watch the fields and work leisurely at their various crafts. The women still gather plants for food and now that there is an abundance of water they make a little pottery and repair their houses.
As always, the children are restless and active. They imitate their elders, doing everything in miniature; miniature farms, miniature bows and arrows, miniature houses and miniature pottery. Sometimes they capture young animals; birds, chipmunks, squirrels or rabbits and while away the hours in more or less unsuccessful efforts to tame them. They are never without their dogs and as they play about the canyons they keep watchful eyes on their flocks of turkeys lest they stray too far and fall prey to coyotes and foxes.
Life is full of joy for these children. Day after day they do nothing but play Indian!
During the summer there is only one threat to the happiness and security of the people. Only by terrific effort are the medicine men able to avert a calamity that would wipe out the entire population. One afternoon a terrified scream comes from the small cliff dwelling across the canyon and a man is seen dancing about on the cliff, waving his arms and pointing frantically toward the sun.
Alarmed, the men shade their eyes and look at the sun as best they can. Immediately they realize the awful calamity that threatens them. Half of the sun has turned black; some frightful monster is swallowing the Sun God. If it succeeds the world will become dark and cold. Life will end.
Instantly the priests go into action and from the kivas come the sounds of their frenzied chanting. Offerings are made, prayers are sung: they perform every magic trick they know that might force the monster to spit out the sun. Everyone in the village joins in and the men come running from the fields. Only a disaster like this could force them to leave the precious crops. For a frenzied hour the hysterical people call upon their gods to drive away the monster that threatens their Sun God.
For a time the blot on the sun grows larger, then, as the priests redouble their efforts, it begins to diminish. At last it is gone and the exhausted people give thanks to their gods. Once again the power of the priests has saved them.
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This thing has happened often, sometimes to the sun, sometimes to the moon. Only a few years ago the monster swallowed the moon completely. The oldest men can remember a time when the sun was swallowed completely and the earth grew dark. But in each case the power of the medicine men prevailed and the moon and sun returned undiminished.
Emergencies of this kind give the people renewed faith in their priests. Sometimes they fail to produce rain or cure the sick but such failures can be overlooked when they are able to overpower a demon which threatens the very existence of the people. Never yet have they lost the battle against this demon which threatens to swallow the moon or the sun. Surely their power is supreme.
Throughout the year the priests have a regular round of ceremonies. Fall and early winter is the great ceremonial season but there are certain ceremonies that must be performed at other times. Healing ceremonies are performed whenever there is need. In the spring the fertility rites must be conducted and during the summer certain ceremonies must be performed which will cause the gods to send rain. In a dry year these rain ceremonies are of utmost importance but in years like this one, when the rains have already come, the ceremonies are more in the nature of thanksgiving. Even though the gods have sent the rain the ceremonies are performed. If they were neglected the gods would be offended.
When the prescribed date arrives the elaborate ceremonies begin. For days there are secret ceremonies in the kiva of the religious society that conducts this particular rite. As a climax the tired priests come out of the secret chamber and perform the public part of the ceremony. Housetops are crowded as the people gather to watch the costumed priests go through the ritual that has been handed down through countless generations of priests. Year after year it is the same but the people never tire of it. Every chant, every offering, every bit of action has a meaning. It is all a part of the yearly cycle of ceremonies that brings happiness and prosperity to the people. This ceremonial cycle is the responsibility of the priests and the people have profound confidence in their abilities.
The people also have great confidence in their chiefs and in the members of the council for these men govern the town. The 94 most important official is the Town Chief, an elderly man who is noted for his wisdom, patience and understanding. He knows many chants and ceremonies which help his people. Next in importance is the War Chief, who guards against enemies, witches and quarrels within the town. The Sun Chief or Sun Watcher follows the movements of the sun and keeps the yearly calendar, and his observations determine the dates for many of the ceremonies. The Hunt Chief is in charge of the hunting activities of the town as well as important healing and hunting ceremonies. Another official who is prominent throughout the year is the Crier Chief. He is the town crier and from his roof he announces important news events and the dates of ceremonies, village hunts and other important affairs.
In addition to these chiefs, there is a council composed of the head men, or chiefs, of all the secret societies. When there are problems to be settled, the council meets: perhaps someone is accused of witchcraft, perhaps two clans are quarreling over farm lands, or it may be merely a personal quarrel between two men. A council meeting is called and the town chiefs and the members of the council meet in a kiva with all the interested parties. A council meeting may last for hours and there is much shouting and quarreling as the evidence is presented. After each person has had an opportunity to give his evidence and opinions the Town Chief makes his decision and the trouble is over. The Town Chief is considered to be wise and just and his judgments are never questioned.
As the end of summer draws near there is new excitement around the cooking fires and in the fields. It is green corn time and the tender ears of corn are at last ready for use. The corn plants are now as high as a man’s head and although the ears are fully formed, the kernels are tender and milky. They are still white: the brilliant colors will not appear until they begin to harden later on. Each day as the men come home from the fields they bring baskets of corn to their wives. The fresh corn is roasted, baked, boiled or stewed and great quantities are eaten when the families gather around their food bowls for the evening meal. Much of this green corn is also prepared for winter use. It is roasted, ground into fine meal and carefully stored away. When winter comes it will be made into delicious mush and a thin gruel which will serve as a hot drink.
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Just as summer slips into autumn the corn fields are the scene of a gay festival. Each day the men have examined the ears and now that they are just right, the date is set. The Crier Chief steps out on his roof, which overlooks the entire town, and gaining the attention of the people, announces that the green corn festival will be held in two days. His announcement brings a great flurry of excitement and the women begin to prepare for the feasting which will take place.
On the appointed day all who are able to climb the steep trails hurry to the fields. Yesterday the men dug deep pits in the fields and gathered great quantities of firewood. Hundreds of ears of corn were picked and placed near the pits. Last night fires were started in the pits and all through the night fuel was thrown in to keep the fires roaring.
As the people arrive from the village the fires are allowed to die out and the ashes are scraped out of the superheated pits. Green corn stalks and leaves are used to line each pit and everyone gathers around to toss in the hundreds of ears of unshucked, green corn. When a pit is almost full, more corn stalks are tossed in and the pit is sealed with earth. All through the day the corn steams in the huge ovens.
Small fires are built around the edges of the fields and the women and girls spend the day preparing great quantities of food. The children romp about the fields while wrestling contests, races and games of skill occupy the boys and young men. The older men loaf and talk and, of course, gamble a little. As the day passes the excitement mounts and at last, as the cool evening breeze begins to rustle the corn leaves, the feasting begins.
The pits are opened and the steaming, tender ears are passed out to the famished crowd. It is a joyous feast for green corn is a favorite delicacy. Great quantities of food are consumed and a contented silence settles over the gorged, happy people.
Just as a monstrous full moon rises out of the eastern mesa they return to their homes. They thrill at the sight for it is something many of them seldom see. Cliff Palace cave faces west and they can see the full moon only by climbing to the mesa top.
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With the green corn festival over, summer slips quickly into autumn. The slow, easy days of the growing season are over. The strenuous activity of the harvest season faces the people of Cliff Palace.