The former chief Snake Priest of Walpi was a young man of good presence, of splendid physique, with regular features and grave, dignified look; in whose face there seemed to be often a trace of melancholy, arising perhaps from deep thought. For it takes a man to be Snake Priest, and the office brings out all there is in one.
Kopeli was as well trained as any civilized man whatsoever, taking into consideration the demands of the different planes of culture. Education is as general among these Indians as it is among the more enlightened people. It would be too long to go into details, but briefly the Hopi child’s life is largely a kindergarten of play-instruction by kind teachers of things useful in active life. He is wrapped in the customs which have become religion, he is initiated into manhood, and takes his place, perhaps inherited, in the fraternities. With all these he is taught the lore, the practices, and the songs—minuti? which require a strong memory. He learns the plants and the animals to which the Hopi had given descriptive names [219] long before Linn?us or Cuvier. The sun is his clock, and all nature is near to him. He must work also in the fields if he would eat—no drones are tolerated. In short, there is a surprising complexity in this life, and its demands are weighty. Thus Kopeli at the head of the most powerful and awe-inspiring society of his people has been put to many tests and bore upon his shoulders the weight of immemorial custom.
While there was in Kopeli a dignity which commands respect from the mirthful Hopi, he could on occasion be as entertaining as any of his tribe, and usually was cheerful and friendly. The exception is when the Snake rites are in progress. Then he seemed a different person, and it was not proper for him to recognize his best friend.
The Walpi Snake Ceremony, of which the public dance is known to many persons, is well worth braving the journey to see. The grand entry of the Snake and Antelope priests on the dance plaza headed by Kopeli and Wiki is one of the most impressive spectacles that can be witnessed on this continent. There is so much energy put into the work; with strides positively tragic, the file of strangely costumed priests march to the kisi, where the snakes have been deposited. Then commences the weird dance with live rattlesnakes held in the mouth to the distant chant of Antelope priests. Kopeli was here at his best. He was a notable figure; no other participant displayed such eagerness and force. These were some of the salient [220] elements of his character, and by these he succeeded, whether as a farmer or as Snake Priest, and took his high position among his people. There is an interesting mingling of the old and new at Walpi. Kopeli became a typical example of the union of past and present. Wiki, his Nestor, was in every fiber imbued with the usages and traditions of the past. One instinctively admires the old man’s firm belief, and his respect for the ancient ceremonies. The leaven of the new was in Kopeli, as may be seen from the following. A wide-awake town in New Mexico wanted the Hopi Snake Dance reproduced at the fair held there in the autumn, realizing that it would be a feature to attract many visitors. Kopeli was approached and offered what seemed to him a large sum of money for the performance. Though in some doubt as to the care and transportation of the snakes, Kopeli and the younger snake priests were tempted to favor the scheme, through his avaricious father, Supela. When Wiki, chief of the related society of the Antelopes, heard the proposal, he became very angry and put his foot down, reading the young men of lax morals a severe lecture on their duties to their religion.
Even had this plan been carried out and had proved a death blow to the so-called pagan and heathenish rites of the Hopi, one would have regretted Kopeli’s share in it. It is well known, too, that, at present, money will admit strangers to view the sacred rites [221] of the Snake Dance, which formerly were kept inviolably secret. Evidently, the Hopi are deteriorating, when they barter their religion for silver; at no distant date, when the elder men are dead, the curious ceremonies of the Hopi will decay and disappear, and let us trust that a new and better light may be given them.
Some years ago Kopeli passed from the scene, and his brother, “Harry,” took his place as Snake Chief.
Dr. J. Walter Fewkes has given an estimate of him as follows:
Kopeli, the Snake chief at the Tusayan pueblo of Walpi, Arizona, died suddenly on January 2, 1899. He was the son of Saliko, the oldest woman of the Snake clan, which is one of the most influential as well as one of the most ancient in Tusayan. His father was Supela, one of the chiefs of the Patki, or Rain-cloud people, who came to Walpi from southern Arizona about the close of the seventeenth century. As chief of the Snake priests at Walpi in the last five presentations of the Snake dance at that pueblo, Kopeli has come to be one of the best known of all the Hopi Indians. He inherited his badge of office as Snake Chief from his uncle, and was the only chief in Tusayan who had a Snake tiponi. His predecessor in this duty was Nuvaiwinu, his uncle, who is still living, and who led the Snake priests in a single ceremony, after which it was found necessary for him to retire on account of his infirmities. At the celebration of the Snake dance in 1883, described by Bourke, Natciwa, an uncle of Kopeli, was Snake [222] chief. The oldest Snake chief of whom I can get any information was Murpi, a contemporary of Macali, the Antelope chief preceding Wiki. Kopeli was a relative on his mother’s side of both these men. At the time of his death Kopeli was not far from twenty-five years of age; he had a strong, vigorous constitution, was of medium size, with an attractive face and dignified manner that won him many friends both among his own people and the Americans with whom he was brought in contact. He was a thoroughly reliable man, industrious and self-respecting. Although a conscientious chief of one of the most conservative priesthoods in Walpi, he was a zealous friend of the whites, and supported innovations introduced by them for the good of his people. He believed in the efficacy of the ceremonial rites of his ancestors and performed his duty as priest without shirking. As Mr. Thomas V. Keam, who knows the Walpi people better than any other white man, told the chiefs in council a few days after the Snake chief’s death: “Kopeli was the best man of the Hopis.” He was a pac lolomai taka, an excellent man, whose heart was good and whose speech was straight. To most Americans who are interested in the Hopi, Kopeli was simply the energetic chief in barbaric attire, who dashed into the Walpi plaza leading his Snake priests in the biennial Snake dance. This is one of the most striking episodes of the ceremony, and its dramatic effect is not equaled in any of the other pueblos. It was through Kopeli’s influence that the Snake dance at Walpi was the largest and most striking of these weird ceremonies in the Hopi pueblos. Kopeli welcomed the educational movement and had two children in the school at [223] Keam’s Canyon at the time of his death. He was buried among the rocks at the base of the Walpi mesa with simple ceremonies appropriate to a chief of his standing.[18]
[18] American Anthropologist (N. S.), Vol. I, Jan., 1899.
Wiki, the genial, good-hearted old chief of the Antelope Society was one of the celebrities of Walpi. His very presence breathed benignity and his heart was full of kindness. The years were telling on Wiki, however, and the marks of age were becoming apparent in his wrinkled face. He gave one the impression of a Hopi gentleman of the old school, a survivor of the best of the past generation. Still, Wiki’s form was not bent, nor his hair gray, and he led the Antelope dance with all the fire of youth. Stored away in his brain was a vast stock of ancient lore, of legend, myth, and song. Since he was quite deaf, his body of information was somewhat difficult of access.
Wiki maintained a certain dignity and attention to his own affairs, which commendable trait a few of the prominent Hopi possess. He has long been known by the scientific explorers who have visited Tusayan, and all who have come in contact with him speak highly of his good qualities.
Supela is in some respects the antithesis of Wiki. Wiki was identified with the Antelope Society or brotherhood, Supela assumed a part in everything. Great must be Supela’s ability, since he is capable of counselling the numerous societies on any doubtful [224] points in their rites and ceremonies. In fact, it seems that no observance in Walpi can get along without his aid, and even the farther towns often call upon him to assist them in delicate points involved in the conduct of their religious celebrations.
It is time we should have a pen picture of him. Short of stature, thick, gray hair hanging to his shoulders around a not unpleasant, mobile face. Nervous of movement, cordial, but occupied with pressing business, going somewhere, has scarcely time more than to ask a few curious questions, he seems to have the burden of Atlas on his shoulders. He resembles a promoter or a ward politician and he covers more ground in a day than Wiki could in a week.
If Supela seems head and front of everything religious in the summer, in the winter he plays a more prominent part in the Soyaluna, which is held at the last of December. Of this wonderful sun ceremony he is chief, and is as illustrious a personage to the Hopi as Santa Claus is to the fair-skinned children. At this time Supela is in his element and proud of himself to the last degree, for does he not regulate the rites that are to bring back the sun from his far winter wanderings?
Wiki was a man of action, coming forward to add power and dignity to that most astounding ceremony ever originated by human brain, the Snake Dance; Supela is a man of craft, a worker by formulas and incantations, but first and last a believer in getting [225] all the silver he can in return for an insight into the mysteries—a thing that Wiki has never stooped to countenance.
There are first families in Tusayan. Saalako enjoys the distinction of being by birthright the chief snake priestess of all Hopiland. Hence Kopeli, her son, was chief priest of the powerful Snake Society in that metropolis of Tusayan, Walpi; while Supela, her husband, has no credit for his share in passing on the inheritance. At present, her son “Harry” is the Snake Chief in place of the beloved Kopeli.
Saalako is an old, wise woman. The mystery which hangs around her is born of her connection with the fearful rites of the Snake cult and her store of the knowledge which has been passed down from time immemorial “by living words from lips long dust.” This connection carries her to distant pueblos to mix the “medicine” for the ceremonies, no one in the whole province being better versed in herbs and spells than she. One might meet her on this errand far out in the desert or among the rugged mesas on the trail to Oraibi, afoot, moving actively for a person apparently so frail. It is difficult to measure, especially in a limited time and short acquaintance, the respect and honor given by the Walpi people to Saalako and the Snake Chief’s family. It would seem that there is a certain dignity and reserve natural to people of rank, although in the common associations the Hopi are quite democratic. In any case Saalako is [226] free from the habit of begging, so often observed among her people, which is probably due to this dignity. It is very evident, however, that the vice of begging is becoming general among the Pueblos which have been most in contact with white people.
This sketch of Saalako would be incomplete without the mention of her chief shortcoming, inordinate curiosity. Apologists commend rather than excuse laudable curiosity, affirming it to be a desirable quality in an investigator. No doubt Saalako owes her acquaintance with nature to this class, but she is famous for curiosity in other minor matters. No visitor to Walpi escapes the ordeal of her questions, and popular account has it that very few happenings escape her notice. The Hopi of both sexes are most curious; Saalako has the trait in greater degree. The hoary error of attributing curiosity to woman alone has small countenance in Hopi. However, Saalako’s curiosity is well meaning and harmless. It is only an expression of the infantile which blossoms in this peaceful and isolated people.
Saalako felt it her duty to give a name to one of the exploring party under the direction of Dr. Fewkes. After several days meditation, having tried and rejected several queer sounding appellations, she at last dubbed him Kuktaimu, briefly, “Investigator,” and kindly offered to adopt him; the adoption, however, was not consummated. Kuktaimu owes his name to the ardor with which he collected plants, insects, [227] and geological specimens, this not escaping the sharp eyes of Saalako.
This sketch is given as a tribute to a remarkable Hopi woman whose history is worthy of fuller presentation.
Intiwa was another celebrity whose acquaintance early ripened into a regard for his true worth. His was a modest personality; in him one saw the living presentment of the sages who guided the people before America dawned upon history. A striking instance that came to notice concerning him gives an interesting sidelight on Hopi customs.
One day Intiwa went down to his cornfield to see how the crops were getting on. As he was reaching under the drooping corn blades, feeling for the ripening ears, a rattlesnake struck him on the hand. He hurried home and applied all the remedies which Hopi medical knowledge could suggest, but got no relief. Some white visitors who happened to be near were called in and did all they could for the man, and finally, after much suffering, Intiwa recovered. Now comes the curious sequel of the snake bite. The Snake Fraternity decided that Intiwa, being specially favored by the bite of the snake, must of necessity belong to their order. Perhaps Intiwa was not impressed with the alleged favor of the snake. Still he took the initiation and became a full-fledged snake priest. This is the first record of such happening in Tusayan.
Beside the honor thus thrust upon him, Intiwa was [228] the Kachina chief of Walpi, and thus an important man, the impresario and chief entertainer of his town, honored by the rain-bringing serpent, blessed with a large family, ample house and abundant food—gifts no doubt of the good fairy Kachina.
Several years ago Intiwa took a journey to the underworld across the deserts and down through the sipapu, or earth-navel, finding at last that wondrous land whence all people came out and where they finally must return, according to Hopi belief. Walpi will suffer the loss of his great knowledge; who knows but that he will emerge, and, sitting with the zealous kachinas, watch over the scene of his earthly triumphs?
The first meeting with the Hopi and with the Honani family was one of the most pleasurable experiences of the journey from Winslow to the Middle Mesa several years ago.
The party had toiled to the north for nearly three days through the brilliantly painted deserts that lie between the Little Colorado and the Hopi villages. The grotesque black buttes whose contours had changed so many times during the journey were left behind to the south and the gray cretaceous mesas began to narrow in on the dry washes, fringed with sage-green desert plants that characterize the region of the Hopi villages. Everyone felt that though many miles of loose sand still intervened, this was the home stretch to the goal. Far ahead on the plain several black dots were sighted, and with lively interest the [229] party began to speculate as to what they might be. After a while it could be seen that a mounted party was coming, perhaps Navaho on first thought, likely Hopi on reflection. Soon they were decided to be a number of Hopi mounted on burros and ponies, and in a short time they were greeting the Americans with the fervor of a long-lost brother, their faces wreathed with smiles. These, then, were the taciturn Indians of the story-books.
Honani, “the Badger,” citizen of Shumopavi, was escorting his family on an outing of many miles after berries. Berries, such as they are, do grow in the desert, but they may be enjoyed only by those who never tasted any other variety. Honani’s wife and her three pretty daughters were astride ponies, while the baby was securely fastened in his mother’s blanket; the old grandfather and grandmother who bestrode burros made up the rest of the party, which formed a very picturesque group. The women asked for water, and Honani spoke the magic word piba, tobacco, followed by the word, matchi. These words one very soon finds are the indispensable preliminary to a “smoke talk” in Hopiland.
Honani’s better half is no light weight. So thought her pony which, without warning, proceeded to lie down. Amidst the screaming and chattering, the stout lady managed to extricate herself, being much hampered by her prudence in tying her blanket to the horn of the saddle. When all were quieted and the [230] pony soundly thumped, they started again on their way berrying.
Honani is quite a prominent man and was one time chief of his pueblo. He is one of the very few Hopi who have made the grand tour to Washington—Wasintona, as they call it. He has a farm in the country, where he lives in summer. The vagrant Navaho who encroach on his premises are the bane of his life, and when none of this tribe is near he wishes them all sorts of unpleasant things. Honani himself is no saint; from all accounts, it is advisable to leave nothing loose while he is around. His wife has a pleasant, matronly face that one cannot help admiring. She is a skillful basket-maker and keeps her house neat and clean, which is more than can be said of her contemporaries.
There is a good deal of feeling, mingled with a large element of jealousy, against Honani in the minds of his fellow villagers, because of his friendliness toward the white man and his stand in favor of educating the children in the schools provided by the Government. At Zu?i, through some pretext or other, Honani would be hung as a wizard, whereas the amicable Hopi merely ignore him for a while.
On another occasion, while the party was encamped in a sheltered valley of the Middle Mesa, the “Honanis” came visiting. It was about supper time; the connection of the time and visit needs no explanation. Among the scanty utensils of the party two cans of [231] similar shape contained respectively salt and sugar. Honani’s wife liberally sweetened her coffee and gave the baby a taste. In a moment his hitherto placid face assumed the contortions of a Hindu idol, and he squirmed and yelled. His mother, not knowing what was the matter, shook him and punched his fat stomach to find out. Then she took a sip of coffee and screamed out, “Ingiwa!” (salt). Her reproachful look seemed to convey the idea that someone had designs on the baby. A few words of explanation soon put her mind at rest on that score, and smiles were again restored. When she heard that several of the party had been at times sufferers from those same malicious salt and sugar boxes, she enjoyed the joke hugely; fellow sufferers are always appreciated the world over.
There is at least one open and above-board infidel at the East Mesa. Chakwaina is his name, and he is a Tewa of Hano. The old nature faith in this pueblo does not show many signs of weakening, so that were Chakwaina less in possessions and in consequent influence, he might have been brought to book long ago for his sins. Chakwaina says “the kachinas are no good.” Perhaps the poor people who so depend on the crops for their existence believe devoutly in the gift-bearing kachinas from ignorance or selfish motives, while Chakwaina, who has sheep, flour, and money, feels independent of any spiritual aids; this is the old story. Chakwaina undoubtedly feels able to take care [232] of himself, for no one has succeeded in getting ahead of him at a bargain. Of course when a pair of sheep shears or a stone is too frequently found in a bag of wool after weighing, people will suspect cheating. It is well to keep watch on Chakwaina!
On the other hand, Chakwaina was one of the first to move down permanently from the mesa when the Government offered inducements to the Hopi to descend from their eyrie. He has always been friendly to the white people; he aided in the establishment of a day school at the “Sun Spring,” and used his influence to persuade the people to send pupils to the school at Keam’s Canyon. He has also traveled much, adding Spanish, Navaho, and a smattering of “American” to his Hopi-Tewan repertory of languages, for the Tewa, besides being the most progressive inhabitants of Tusayan, are the best linguists. This is due to the fact that the people of the little town of Hano have preserved their own language, and being within a stone-throw of Walpi, must also know Hopi. Hence the step toward learning other tongues is made easier.
Chakwaina has his house near Ishba, or “wolf spring,” in very picturesque surroundings. Below, in the wash, are his cornfields and melon patches, showing skillful engineering in diverting the water on the arable ground by means of dams and wings. Here he and his faithful adjutant, “Tom Sawyer,” the Paiute, put in many a laborious hour, the latter waging [233] deadly warfare on the obnoxious prairie dogs whose fate is to be eaten if caught.
Chakwaina is disposed to poke fun at the scientific men who come to Tusayan to study the ways of the Hopi. He has a remarkable laugh, and his mimicry of the Snake Dance is one of the most amusing things to be seen in Hopiland. His object is to ridicule all parties by making himself ridiculous. It is evident that Chakwaina has not the accustomed contentment of the Hopi. Having denied the first article of faith in the kachinas and having received nothing higher in return, he stands in the unhappy position of all unbelievers of whatever race or time.
A portrait gallery of the celebrities of Tusayan would not be complete without Mungwe, or, as his name is translated, “El Capitan,” “Cap” for short; but his name is properly Mongwe, “the owl.” “Cap” is a Tewa whose ancestors were invited long ago to come from the Rio Grande and cast their lot with the Hopi on the Walpi Mesa. Here their descendants still dwell in the village of Hano, preserving the language and customs transplanted from the “Great River of the North.” “Cap” is one of the most energetic and capable Indians in all Hopiland. Wiry in figure, alert of movement, loquacious, quick of comprehension, trustworthy and experienced, he is quite in advance of the large majority of his contemporaries. Long ago he abandoned the inconvenient mesa; his farm-house with its red roof............