It is thus: the friars who lived at Oraibi did not relish the water from the springs near the pueblo. Now the water at Moenkapi, the summer village of Oraibi, is excellent. The priests used to compel the Indians to bring water from that place. It chanced that the Indian whose duty it was to carry water from Moenkapi, not liking to bring water many miles por el amor de Dios, one day filled his canteen with the water of Oraibi and brought it to the friars. On tasting the water, they accused the Indian of deceit and compelled him to go to Moenkapi for more.
An old chief of Walpi gave a long and circumstantial account of the rule of the friars, against whom even at this late day he was very bitter. He said with emphasis, “Castil shimuno posh kalolomi,” “The Spanish are very bad,” and related how they strove to enslave the people, making them carry large cottonwood beams from the Little Colorado for the churches. To our knowledge, a few of these beams from the old churches, curiously carved, are now doing service in the ceilings of pagan kivas or underground rooms where secret ceremonies are carried on. The “long gowns,” as the Indians also call them, might have held this tractable, timid people long in subjection in the non-essential things, such as labor, but as the old chief relates, they interfered with their time-honored ceremonies of ancestor and nature worship. “They said the dances were very bad and we must stop them,” explained the old chief. There was still another grievance that the Hopi allege against the friars, and that was their treatment of the women. Interference with religion and custom have been at the bottom of most of the troubles of humanity. At last the Peaceful People turned and the Castil shinumo were thrown over the rocky mesa, and from that time to this their names have been execrated by the Hopi.
Traditions of the very first appearance of Spaniards before the Pueblos have come down for ten generations as fresh as though the events had happened last year, and they can be compared with the accounts of the conquerors themselves. This lapse of time has not given mythical tinge to these events. It may be believed, then, that the ancient history which has become mythical dates very far back and to regions far removed from the present mesas of Hopiland. Every ruin in the province, those south on the Little Colorado and farther beyond the dim Mogollon Mountains on the horizon and those to other compass points for surprising distances are known in Hopi traditions, and wise is the student of ancient things in Tusayan who first fortifies himself by delving in this store of unwritten history.
The duties of the warrior chiefs are not burdensome, since the Hopi have fostered the arts of peace till it has become a national characteristic. It is fortunate for the Hopi that they belong to those who run away, not even “to fight another day,” desirous to live in contentment and happy to exist on the earth, after the fierce enemies have jostled many tribes out of existence. Still, the Hopi keep up in a feeble, traditional way a warrior society, which corresponds to the powerful Priesthood of the Bow who are said to rule Zuñi. So in the villages of Tusayan the warriors are merely ornamental and dance bravely in some ceremonies, though at some critical period of invasion the necessity of drawing the “dead line” might fall upon the warrior society, as it has beforetimes.
When one day in the year 1540 the Spaniards halted under the Hopi towns there was consternation among the people at the sight of the armored conquerors and all held back in their houses for fear of them. Not so the warrior priests, who, striding down the trail, sprinkled a line of meal between the town and the Spaniards. According to immemorial custom this line of meal means that no one shall pass under penalty of death. One of the Spanish soldiers crossed the line and was killed by the warriors. Then the Spanish friar who came with the expedition in quest of new souls to save, cried out in effect, “What are we here for?”; a volley followed; the Hopi heard the report of a gun for the first time, and a number of them bit the dust. The remainder fled to the village, which was thoroughly frightened at the terrible visitation of bearded foes. On the next day a deputation came down to the Spanish camp bringing presents and offering humble submission to the white men.
More than three centuries later, a body of United States troops who were sent to coerce the Oraibi because they would not send their children to school, met with a similar experience, but by good management no blood was shed and the Indian leaders were exiled to California for a year or so. It is a curious circumstance that in our country where the past is forgotten so soon there should exist a people who remember and take warning from the events of almost four centuries ago.
On the rocks below Walpi there is a curiously carved record which has a good bit of war history connected with it. Hear Anowita, the Warrior Chief, tell the story:
Very when ago [long time] the Ute and Apache were always wishing to kill the Good People. They were very bad. At that time there was no trail up the great rocks to Hopi-ki “Walpi.” The people climbed up and down a long ladder which could be drawn up at night. I can show you where the ladder stood. It was bad for the people to be frightened all the time, so they sent messengers to ask the Tewa from the Great River to come and dwell at Walpi to fight their enemies. The Tewa came, many families of them; there was a battle at a spring north of Walpi and the Tewa killed as many Utes as there are marks cut in the rock below the Gap. The Ute did not come back again. The Tewa were given lands and springs to the eastward and their village was set at the head of the trail near the Gap so that they could guard the mesa.
This is the origin of the Tewa town of Hano on the East Mesa, through which everyone must go who seeks an easy entrance into Walpi. One cannot avoid thinking that the recorder of the battle of the spring was not sparing with his list of dead Ute, which he scored with a series of lines cut in a smooth sandstone face.
The explorations in the buried towns of a section of the ancient Hopi which extend in a line from the Gila River to their present mesa homes show that for all these centuries they have been unwarlike people. There is the greatest scarcity of weapons, such as arrowheads and spearheads, and there are few war axes to be found among the numerous relics of peaceful pursuits, though wooden clubs were no doubt used. This accords with the situation of the towns on high, easily defended positions and the building of houses in clusters, the outer walls forming a fortification which defied assailants.