“The old cliff dwellers didn’t need ladders to get up and down as we do,” she told Barrows, pointing out toe holds which had been chipped in the rock. “They climbed like flies.”
The three companions now stood on a shelf of rock and earth. Back beneath the lip of the cliff were visible the geometrical ruins of square granaries, round towers and oblong rooms cut with tiny windows and doors. Connie told Barrows that seven different families once had occupied the site.
“How do you know?” he inquired curiously.
“Why, by the number of kivas,” she declared. “Here, I’ll show you what I mean.”
She pointed out a deep, circular hole in the earth which had been roofed over. It was large enough to have held perhaps twenty or thirty people.
“A kiva such as this was used for ceremonial purposes only,” she explained, “but each little tribe or family had its own. There is a great deal of lore connected with them but I’ll not bore you with that. Would you like to go down into it?”
“How would I get out again?” he inquired.
“Oh, one of the other kivas has a ladder. Dad put it in years ago.”
“Let’s take a look at it then,” Barrows agreed.
Connie crossed over to another kiva which had been hidden from view by a high wall.