The Hopi Indians

by Walter Hough

The enviable title of “Song-Makers” has been earned by the music-loving Indians of Tusayan, and their fame as singers has gone out among all the tribes of the “Land of Little Rain.” Many a less inventive Indian has come a long, wearisome journey to learn songs from the Hopi, bringing also his fee, since songs that give the singer magic power over the gods and forces of nature are not to be had for the asking, besides to their learning a man must give the full devotion of his being and sit humbly at the feet of his instructors. The land where the Hopi live may seem to furnish slight incentive to song, especially when one’s ideas of the desert are of its dreariness and desolation; but when one sets foot in the sacred precincts of the mysterious desert a new revelation comes to him and he sees with these Indians that the wastes which unfold from the high mesas are full of beauty of form and brilliancy of color. Sunrise and sunset bring wonderful tints into the landscape,—the distant blue mountains, the violet cloud shadows, the tawny, whirling sand columns, the far-off thunder-storm, the vibration of the midday air, and the sparkling night sky must inspire the most prosaic mind. There comes to one in these surroundings a feeling of freedom, together with a sense of the vastness, transparency, and mystery of the desert which stir the emotions and makes the close pent life of crowded cities left behind seem but an unsubstantial dream. Here the Hopi have been always free; the isolated life on the narrow mesas brings about a close companionship and a true home-life besides. The air of the desert makes a man healthy and hungry, thus cheerfulness cannot but follow, expressed in songs that are from the soul.

It must be confessed that the impression of Indian music one draws from various sources is that it consists of whoops, yells, and odd, guttural noises, but this is far from describing Hopi music. Between the light and airy Kachina songs and the stirring though somewhat gruesome chants of the Snake ceremony, there is a variety of compositions to many of which the most enlightened music lovers would listen with pleasure.

The Flute music is especially pleasing. In the summer of 1896, the writer had the good fortune to witness the Flute ceremony at the Hopi pueblo of Walpi. In the course of the ritual, which is an invocation for rain, a series of songs are repeated each day for several days. To one hearing Indian music for the first time the sensation was quite novel. The chorus of priests, rattle in hand, sang in unison before the Flute altar, in a narrow, low, windowless room that greatly augmented the volume of sound. The time was set by the speaker-chief, who uniformly shook his rattle eight beats in five seconds for all the songs and for each day’s songs with the accuracy of a metronome. There were three beats in each measure. The pitch was low, the range limited, and the deep, vibrant voices seemed to portray the winds, thunder, rain, the rushing water and the elemental forces of nature.

The notation is chromatic, not possible to be expressed on any instrument save the violin, or the five-hole transverse flutes which later accompanied the singing. These flutes were played in unison on the octave above the voices, and their shrill, harsh notes marred the singing. In general effect the music is minor, but frequently major motives of great beauty spring out of dead-level monotonous minors. Sometimes a major motive is followed by a minor counterpart of the same. There is much slurring, and an occasional reduplication comes in with great effect. A number of songs are monotonous, with once in a while a vigorous movement. The closing song is spirited and may truly be called beautiful. It consists of several legato verses, each closing with a turn, a rapid vibration of the rattle, and a solemn refrain. In structure and melody it resembles a Christian hymn. The music reminds one of the Gregorian chants, and to the listener some of the motives seemed quite equal to those upon which Handel built his great oratorios.

It is a pity that the many beautiful songs of Tusayan cannot be written down and preserved but this will no doubt soon be accomplished. Perhaps some genius like Liszt who gave the world the spirit of Hungarian folk-music will arise to ravish our ears with these musical expressions passed down from aboriginal American sweet singers.

While the music which most attracts our attention in Hopiland is that of the various ceremonies, there is still a cycle of songs, many in number, of love, war, or for amusement; those sung by mothers to their infants, or shrilled by the women grinding corn. The men sing at their work, the children at their play in this land of the Song Makers.

If songs are numerous beyond computation among the Hopi there are also more games conducing to their amusement than one finds among many other tribes. One may surmise that these games have been brought in by the clans that came from all points of the compass to make up the Hopi, and who must have touched elbows with other tribes of different lineage during the wanderings. All games seem to have been borrowed, and no one may, in the light of present knowledge, say when, where, and by whom any one of the typical games was invented, any more than the father of a proverb or a joke may have the parentage ascribed to him.

But the Hopi are not disturbed by such philosophical considerations and adhere to the traditional and time-honored games they know without desire for innovation. With them athletic games are most popular, are pursued with whole-souled abandon, and are accompanied with a world of noise and rough play; but the races and games connected with the religious ceremonies are carried on with due decorum. Stout shinny sticks of oak brought from the north show that the Hopi know the widespread sport that warms the blood of many an American boy, but, alas! there is no ice for its full enjoyment. Among other athletic sports one may reckon throwing darts, shooting with bow and arrow at a mark, or hurling the boomerang-like club, which is an ancient weapon, or even impromptu trials of skill in throwing stones or in bouts of friendly wrestling. The most amusing struggle game is the Nuitiwa, played by both sexes after the close of the Snake ceremony. Men and boys provide themselves with some piece of pottery or other object of value and run through the village crying “Wa ha ha! Wa ha ha!” pursued by the fleet-footed women who chase them and struggle for the prize with much laughter and shortness of breath. The men take the precaution to remove their shirts, if they value them, before they begin, for that garment is not worth a moment’s purchase when the girls reach for the prize held at arm-length above the head.

Many of the sacred games are of an athletic character. Of these may be mentioned the numerous races, including the kicking race in which stones are carried on top of one foot, and the sacred game of ball. One might include in the list the bow-women of the Mamzrauti ceremony and basket throwers of the Lalakonti ceremony, since it can be seen that games are closely connected with primitive religious beliefs and may all have originated as a form of divination, or some other early attempts of man either to influence the beings or to spy into the future. It may be that some games are remnants of long-forgotten ceremonies, once of great import to early worshippers.

Of sedentary games there are a number. One like “fox and geese,” called totolospi, is the patoli of the Mexicans, which is said to be in turn the pachise of the Hindus, and the rectangular plan of this game may sometimes be found on the rocks near the villages. There is “cup and ball,” a guessing game in which four cups cut from wood and a stone about the size of a marble form the paraphernalia; and there is a game in which reed dice with markings are thrown. A set of these dice was found in an ancient ruin near Winslow, Arizona, and they are represented on an ancient bowl from Sikyatki, a ruin near Walpi.