"Look! Real Indians!"
"LOOK! Indians! There! See them? Real, live
Indians!"
The very word sets the blood a-tingle. Generations of
John Smiths, Miles Standishes, George Washingtons, Daniel Boones, Kit
Carsons, and other famed American fighters stir in their graves. In a
flash, their exploits live again in the mind's eye. It is bred in the
bones of the American to thrill at the cry of "Indians!" Some mother
among his ancestors hides her children, some father thrusts a gun
between the logs of a cabin wall. It is life or death.
"Bang! And another redskin bit the dust." The romantic,
ever victorious fights of the dime-novel heroes flicker before the
mind. In an instant there is flashed a whole history of Indian fights,
the wresting of a continent from a race of red men. Many a modern
American has never seen a real Indian before. In a vague sort of way, he
believes the Indian is a species almost extinct. His great hope is to
see a few of them outside the movies before the last of the redskins
"bites the dust."
Actually, it is not true that the Indians as a race
are departing from this earth. The facts are that since they ceased
fighting the white men and have lived peacefully as neighbors, the
American Indians have been increasing in numbers. In 1877, when the
Sioux, Nez Perces, and other tribes were still on the warpath, it was
estimated that there were 250,809 Indians in the United States, not
counting some 20,000 Alaska natives and about 6,000 Sioux who fled under
Sitting Bull to Canada, following the Custer Massacre. In 1940 the
census gave the Indian population as 333,969. Today there are almost
400,000 Indians in the United States, including 33,000 Alaskan
natives.
The average Dude is not interested in Indians who
have become civilized, who wear store clothes, ride in automobiles, and
look like any other brand of humans. The Dude wants to see "real
Indians," the kind that wear feathers, don war paint, make their clothes
and moccasins of skins. Give him one such Indian and the Dude is much
more excited than he would be if he had seen a whole nation of Indians
at the humdrum pastime of making their living in peaceful pursuits. In
fact, he is hardly sympathetic with the efforts of the Indian Bureau to
make the Indians self-supporting and independent in the white man's way.
It does not particularly interest him that there are remnants of 341
Indian tribes in the United States; there were more than 10,000 Indian
soldiers and sailors in World War I and nearly 25,000 in World War II,
including 200 WACS and WAVES; over 30,000 Indian children are in
schools; the total value of Indian property probably approaches two
billion dollars; the area of Indian reservations is close to 70,000,000
acres.
Even so, about the easiest place for city folks to
see the Indian in his natural state is in a national park. The Indians
have been closely associated with the parks since their discovery. The
Indian knew the natural wonders that are the basis for the parks long
before the white men discovered them. The earth's curiosities that have
attracted the white man were objects of worship or fear to the red man.
They formed the nucleus of legends told by his wise men. Many of them
are the red man's explanation of how the earth was created. If the
Indian did not live within the shadow of a monument, or what is now a
national park, he lived near enough so that his priests could perform
ceremonies on proper occasions, giving due credit to the gods who were
supposed to live in the waterfall, on a great cliff, or within the earth
beneath a volcano or a geyser basin.
So it seems particularly appropriate that the
national parks, intrusted with preserving a small part of the American
continent in its natural state, should be near practically the only
Indian tribes which are still living as they did before Columbus
discovered America. This all came about quite naturally. The lands that
are now in the national parks for the most part were not suitable for
settlement by the white pioneer. Either they were too remote from
cities or railoads, or they were too rugged for development, or they
were set aside in reservations at an early date by the government. Since
the white man did not need these hunting grounds, the Indian who lived
in national park territory was allowed to go his way without much
disturbance, except when he waged war on the whites.
The visitor is certain always of seeing Indians at
Grand Canyon National Park in Arizona. The Canyon cuts diagonally
through the heart of the Indian country of the Southwest. Immediately
adjacent to the park, east and southeast, is the vast Navajo
reservation, really several reservations joined together. It includes
the Hopi Indian lands. In this area live 35,000 Navajoes and 2,500
Hopis. West of the Grand Canyon is the Truxton Canyon agency of the
Hualapai Indians. In the park itself is the Havasupai reservation, home
to about 180 natives, all that remain of this primitive nation. Between
the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and the Utah parks lies the extensive
Kaibab reservation, set aside for the Piutes. However, few Indians live
on this reservation.
Within the park itself, Navajoes, Hopis, and
Havasupais are seen almost always at the South Rim, near Bright Angel
Camp, and at other points. Perhaps the greatest object of interest is
the Hopi House on the South Rim, an exact replica of one of the ancient
Hopi houses on a mesa in the reservation. Here are seen real Hopis in
their native costumes, the women making the pottery for which they are
skilled, the men engaging in their interesting and picturesque dances
each afternoon.
These Hopis are members of one of the oldest races in
the Southwest. They were a settled nation of Indians who attained a
considerable degree of culture and skill at the arts. They built their
homes of adobe, in the form of picturesque pueblos, situated high on the
mesas where they could defend themselves from their warlike nomadic
neighbors. The Hopis, unlike the majority of the Indians, derive their
living from their little farms. They keep domestic animals, raise corn,
and carry on their interesting arts and crafts quite independent of the
outside world.
By taking the side trip from Grand Canyon Park over
the Navahopi Road, visitors can find the Hopis at work in their villages
exactly as they lived before the Spaniards discovered and attempted to
conquer this region three centuries ago. Here the Dude can see the Hopi
maiden grinding blue corn, to be used in her wedding ceremonial. The
Hopis raise many kinds of corn, blue, red, yellow, and other colors.
Each color has a significance. They are careful in their dress, neat in
their appearance. Their houses are clean, in spite of the fact that they
keep their dogs and pigs in the courtyards, which often form the roof of
the families living in the apartments one story below, the Hopi villages
being constructed in terraces on the cliffs. The Hopis dress in colorful
costumes and wear bright-colored bands around their heads. This is their
chief distinguishing feature.
Navajoes are seen in considerable number in Grand
Canyon Park. Many of them find employment with the government or the
public utilities in the park. They are good workers and a fine nation of
Indians. Until recently they were not dependent upon the government for
food and shelter, being successful shepherds. Their sheep furnish them
with meat for food and wool for clothing. At their villages, but usually
in isolated places, where the Navajoes live in crude hogans made of
brush and sticks and mud, many of the men work as silversmiths, making
bracelets, rings, pins, and other ornaments, often decorated with
turquoise settings. These are highly prized, not only by the natives but
by the Dudes and Sagebrushers who visit the reservation. The Navajoes
are great gamblers, a habit which often costs them their beloved
jewelry, since the losers must often pawn their trinkets at the traders'
stores to pay their debts.
The Havasupai village is far down in the Havasu
Canyon, a beautiful valley with trees and waterfalls, several thousand
feet below the rim of the Grand Canyon. Here are the homes of the last
of the Havasupai nation, a tribe of Indians that lived by cultivating
corn, making baskets, and hunting. The Havasupais still live exactly as
they did before the white man came, except that some of the men work for
the government on the roads, while to their usual crops they have added
melons, figs, and peaches. Once Uncle Sam built every family of
Havasupais a wooden cottage, but the natives use these buildings for the
storage of food and farm implements, preferring to live in their crude
huts resembling Navajo hogans.
The only way to reach Havasu Canyon is via the
perilous Indian trail, best described by an old Indian one day, when he
said:
"I ride 'em horse home. Go down, go down some more,
go down, go down some more, go down, down some more. Horse slip, I jump.
Horse go down, go down some more. Catch 'em plenty dead down
bottom."
The famous Snake Dance of the Hopis, held each August,
usually at a different Hopi village on the reservation near Grand Canyon
Park, is one of the most colorful and picturesque events of the
Southwest. Visitors privileged to see this amazing ceremony never forget
it. The dancers actually carry live rattlesnakes in their teeth
during the ceremony. The dance is held for the purpose of bringing rain
to the land. The snakes are supposed to carry the Hopi prayers for rain
to the gods, who are thought to live underground. Curiously enough it
usually does rain a short time after the dance, so the Hopis do have
grounds for continuing their belief in the potency of the Snake
Dance.
In the mountains west of Santa Fe, New Mexico, and
above the occupied pueblos are several scenic valleys in which lie
numerous ruins of ancient Indian civilizations, among them the ruins of
Puye, Otowi, Tsankawi, and those in Frijoles Canyon, all of which,
except Puye are in Bandelier National Monument. It has been suggested
that these valleys with their interesting ruins and unique scenery, be
made into a National Park of the Cliff Cities. Many of the ruins lie in,
against, or on top of cliffs of tufa and other soft rock into which the
early peoples could dig with their crude implements. Taos is a most
fascinating pueblo. In fact, there are two great pueblos at this place,
one on each side of fine mountain streams. High mountains rise back of
the Indian villages and the whole scene is one of such charm and beauty
that it has attracted artists and writers from all over the nation. The
Taos region has three settled sections: the Indian villages, San
Fernando de Taos, the American town near which Kit Carson is buried, and
Ranchos de Taos, a very old Mexican town farther south. In the Mexican
town is an ancient mission church.
Mesa Verde National Park was created to preserve the
most remarkable ruins of prehistoric inhabitants of the Southwest that
remain anywhere. There are two types of ruins, one embracing great
buildings under overhanging cliffs, and the other old pueblos on top of
the mesa. The former occupants of these cliff dwellings are thought to
have been the ancestors of the Pueblo, Hopi, Zuni, and other
pueblo-dwelling Indians of New Mexico and Arizona. The park is joined on
the south by the Southern Ute reservation, and southeast a short
distance is the Jicarilla Apache reserve.
At Mesa Verde Park the ranger naturalists tell around
the campfires at night the story of the ancient dwellers on the Mesa
Verde as it has been pieced together from pottery, baskets, and other
artifacts. The Indians seen around the Park today are Navajoes. They
maintain the roads and trails, and in the Park set up each summer a real
Southwestern Indian Village. There are always Navajo women weaving
blankets, others doing camp work, and usually Indian babies to lend
color to the scene.
Occasionally the spectacular Indian Fire Play embodying
the legends of the Navajo nation is produced, with Indians as actors.
The great cliff dwelling known as Spruce Tree House, near headquarters,
is the stage for the play and flares furnish the lights, as there is no
electricity available. The actors, the stage, the lighting, and the
action of the play itself make this production one of the finest things
that has ever been undertaken in a national park.
Trained guides take the park and monument visitors
through the principal ruins and explain to them the life and customs and
industries of the builders of these great structures who thrived for
centuries, then disappeared from the face of the earth.
Two of the most important national monuments lie
within the great Navajo Reservation. These are Canyon de Chelly and
Navajo Monuments. In the latter especially we have the interesting
spectacle of Navajo Indians of today living in Canyons which contain
caves and under cliffs ruins of ancient structures and artifacts left by
races long disappeared. Casa Grande Monument in Southern Arizona and
Aztec Ruins and Chaco Canyon in northern New Mexico are Park Service
areas where Indian structures are preserved. There are many others.
Just as the parks and monuments of the Southwest
offer the best opportunity to see the desert Indian at home, so Glacier
National Park is the place to see the Plains Indians in real life. Here
the visitor sees the picturesque and colorful tepees of the Blackfoot
Indians, one of the finest tribes of Plains Indians. They were mighty
hunters and valiant warriors, tall, proud, dignified, the very
personification of the redskin of story-book fame. The Plains Indians
ranged over the vast gentle eastern slope of the Rockies, living almost
exclusively by hunting. Many were the wars they fought with the white
pioneers, resisting to the last the white man's efforts to conquer and
civilize them.
The Plains Indians lived an entirely different life
from that of the Southwest natives. Of the arts and crafts of
civilization they knew nothing. They neither wove baskets nor made
pottery. On the other hand they were fine physical specimens, tall,
slender, athletic, and handsome. Their food they garnered by killing
animals. The skins and hides served to make clothes and to provide
shelter. They were nomads, each nation by common consent or superior
prowess controlling vast hunting grounds. The men hunted the animals,
the women dried their flesh so that it kept all winter long. The men had
captured and tamed the wild horses, descendants of those loosed on the
plains by the early Spaniards. The warriors were skilful riders.
Of all the Plains Indians the Blackfeet, so called
because their moccasins were often black from walking on the burned
prairie grass, were the most distinctive. Bound together by a strong
racial pride, this nation was deeply concerned in resisting not only the
invasion of the white man but the introduction of his ways into Indian
life. Warlike, predatory, and inconsiderate of their neighbors, the
Blackfeet were possessed of a strong sense of destiny. They were noble
and handsome in appearance. Their features were more finely carved than
those of the neighboring Indian tribes. Their complexions were lighter
than those of other Indians, the men being almost tan, the women often
so fair they were very nearly white. The noble bearing of their old men
was extraordinary, the object of much admiration and wonder on the
occasion of the visits of the Blackfoot chieftains to Washington to see
the Great White Father.
Glacier National Park was the ancient hunting ground
of the Blackfeet. Within the park is a great cliff over which the
Blackfeet were accustomed to drive herds of bison in their annual hunts.
The buffaloes were killed by crashing to the rocks below. This cliff was
a prized asset of the Indians, who otherwise were forced to ride among
the buffaloes in stampedes and kill them with bow and arrow, or by the
hazardous expedient of thrusting knives into the great beasts while
riding at full speed. The Blackfeet are no longer allowed to hunt in the
park, since it is a game refuge, but they still pitch their picturesque
tepees near the hotels and lodges and camp there during the summer.
Their summer villages are of tremendous interest to visitors who love
to gather about the Indians, both at the villages and in the hotel
lobbies.
The Blackfeet, while usually quite solemn and dignified,
have in fact a good sense of humor. Frequently, they elect
distinguished visitors to honorary membership in their tribe, bestowing
the honor with fitting ceremonies and giving the new members appropriate
Indian names. Sometimes, however, the naming of the honorary tribes man
is the occasion for a practical joke. Once they decided. to take into
the tribe a guide who had been friendly to the Indians but who was known
as a great liar because of the extravagant stories he told the Dudes
whom he escorted over Glacier Park trails. When his Indian name was
translated it was found to mean literally
"Sits-Up-Straight-in-the-Saddle-and-Lies."
The Blackfeet have always been proud of their mountains.
They claim that they had names for all the principal features of
the park area that formerly belonged to them. The translations of many
of their names have been given to Glacier Park peaks, lakes, and
waterfalls, such as Going-to-the-Sun, Almost-a-Dog, Four Bears, Rising
Wolf, and Little Chief Mountains, Two Medicine and Red Eagle Lakes,
Morning Eagle and Dawn Mist Falls, and so on. The Blackfeet assert that
the white man has taken from the mountains, lakes and rivers many of
their best and most cherished names and has put on white men's names
that do not sound so well and do not belong in the park. Back in 1915,
three distinguished Blackfeet, Bird Rattlers, Curly Bear, and Wolf
Plume, came to Washington to protest to the Secretary of the Interior
against the use of white men's names in Glacier Park. They were promised
that henceforth only Indian names or their translations would be used
in Glacier National Park, and that policy is still in effect.
Other Indians in early days occupied the western part
of Glacier Park beyond the continental divide. These were the Flatheads
and the Kootenais, but they were inferior to the Blackfeet. Today they
reside at considerable distances from the park. The old Flathead
reservation south west of Glacier Park has been opened to settlement and
the Indians are seen only if the Sagebrusher explores the byways off the
main highways.
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