The voices of the men are not unpleasant, though generally they are thrown too high—head tones—to be agreeable; and as conversation increases they often allow their voices to rise to an almost querulous note. There is a good deal of the chant about it of a half-musical nature.
The women's voices are usually sweet and musical, but the language itself does not lend itself to the display of vocal sweetness. It is not a "liquid" language. It is full of crooks and twists, gutturals and harsh labials, and seems to be ground out in angles with a machine-like regularity. In some cases, the women, having imitated the querulous tone of some of the men, have developed a harshness that is disagreeable. The rapidity with which they learn new words is remarkable. Lanoman, one of the present policemen, asked me the English of a number of words, and all during the day I heard him repeating them over to himself, and seldom would he need correction.
The dress commonly worn by the women consists of a short skirt and waist, made of colored calico, and a si-dram'-a, which may be described as a rude shawl, two corners of which are tied obliquely across the chest. When at work this is often slung over one side of the body so that one arm is free. Among the Havasupais the si-dram-a that is most desired and sought after is one made of four large bandana handkerchiefs, with red as the choice of colors.
The men, when I first visited them, seldom wore anything more than the breech-clout except in cold weather, but as school influences began to permeate the village, blue overalls and the cast-off trousers and other clothing of the white man were donned, until now it is a rare sight to see a man clothed in any other than the ordinary fashion, though the influence of the outside Indians is seen in the Spanish "cut" of all home-made garments. Moccasins are the common foot-gear, though occasionally a man or woman may be found wearing "civilized" shoes.
Fish, pork, chicken, all kinds of birds and eggs, are tabooed as food by the Havasupais, but they eat rats, deer, antelope, rabbit, prairie dog, and mountain sheep. They are especially fond of beef, and horse and mule meat, no matter how the animals come to their death, are esteemed luxuries. They will even eat lizards and lice.
The prickly pear and the fruit of the amole, or hosh-kon, are much favored when ripe. The latter is roasted in the coals until the outside is completely blackened. A hole is made in this carbonized surface to let out the steam, and, when cold, the fruit is eaten as a great delicacy. I have often eaten and enjoyed it, though it has a sickish-sweet vegetable taste that at first is somewhat unpleasant. The pinion nut, sunflower and squash seeds are also regarded as delicacies. Practice has made the Havasupais dexterous in eating these husk-covered seeds. The novice finds it a wearisome task to hull them, but the expert throws a handful of seeds into his mouth, cracks the shells, and by skilful manipulation eats the nuts on one side of his mouth and expels the shells on the other. When I can do this I shall make a meal on pinion nuts, as they are of exquisitely sweet and delicious flavor.
Sunflower seeds, squash seeds, and a variety of wild grass seeds and corn are parched by the women by placing them in saucer-shaped baskets—or kű-űs´—with hot ashes, and then tossing them up and down and to and fro until sufficiently cooked. The seeds are then scooped out with the fingers, and ground on a slab of basaltic rock, by rubbing one stone over the other. On the occasion of one of my visits, when I was the guest of Chickapanagie, I made the accompanying photograph of his wife as she thus parched corn in a basket. It was the placing of a covering of clay inside the kű-ű, to prevent its burning, that led Frank Cushing to the belief that here was the explanation of the origin of pottery.[8]
Green squash is cooked after being hacked into pieces in an apparently reckless but most effective manner. With the squash in one hand, the woman takes a large butcher knife in the other and strikes indifferently at the squash, turning it around and at different angles the while. In a few moments chips, as it were, begin to fall into the cooking pot, and after the exterior is cut and hacked in every direction the cook begins to slice it into the pot. When well cooked, it is eaten without any other improvement than a little salt.
Corn and beans are plentiful with them, and both are as delicious and tender as any I have ever tasted elsewhere.
Mescal is one of their chief foods. It is made by them exactly as the Wallapais make it. That fibrous portion of the plant that cannot be treated in this manner is boiled, and the drink therefrom, when fresh, is a sickish-sweet liquid, that, however, might soon become agreeable. This liquid is of a dark brown color, and when boiled for a long time becomes a species of thin molasses.