Among the Havasupaí, still surviving as a sort of bucket, is the basket-pot or boiling-basket, for use with hot stones, which form I have also found in some of the cave deposits throughout the ancient Zuñi country. These vessels (see Fig. 503) were bottle-shaped and provided near the rims of their rather narrow mouths with a sort of cord or strap-handle, attached to two loops or eyes (Fig. 503 a) woven into the basket, to facilitate handling when the vessel was filled with hot water. In the manufacture of one of these vessels, which are good examples of the helix or spirally-coiled type of basket, the beginning was made at the center of the bottom. A small wisp of fine, flexible grass stems or osiers softened in water was first spirally wrapped a little at one end with a flat, limber splint of tough wood, usually willow (see Fig. 504). This wrapped portion was then wound upon itself; the outer coil thus formed (see Fig. 505) being firmly fastened as it progressed to the one already made by passing the splint wrapping of the wisp each time it was wound around the latter through some strands of the contiguous inner coil, with the aid of a bodkin. (See Fig. 506.) The bottom was rounded upward and the sides were made by coiling the wisp higher and higher, first outward, to produce the bulge of the vessel, then inward, to form the tapering upper part and neck, into which, the two little twigs or splint loop-eyes were firmly woven. (See again Fig. 503 a.)

Sketches illustrating manufacture of spirally-coiled basketry.

These and especially kindred forms of basket-vessels were often quite elaborately ornamented, either by the insertion at proper points of dyed wrapping-splints, singly, in pairs, or in sets, or by the alternate painting of pairs, sets, or series of stitches. Thus were produced angular devices, like serrated bands, diagonal or zigzag lines, chevrons, even terraces and frets. (See Figs. 507, 508, 509.) There can be no doubt that these styles and ways of decoration were developed, along with the weaving of baskets, simply by elaborating on suggestions of the lines and figures unavoidably produced in wicker-work of any kind when strands of different colors happened to be employed together. Even slight discolorations in occasional splints would result in such suggestions, for the stitches would here show, there disappear. The probability of this view of the accidental origin of basket-ornamentation may be enhanced by a consideration of the etymology of a few Zuñi decorative terms, more of which might be given did space admit. A terraced lozenge (see Figs. 510,511), instead of being named after the abstract word a wi thlui ap í pä tchi na, which signifies a double terrace or two terraces joined together at the base, is designated shu k`u tu li a tsi' nan, from shu e, splints or fibers; k`u tsu, a double fold, space, or stitch (see Figs. 512, 513); li a, an interpolation referring to form; and tsi' nan, mark; in other words, the "double splint-stitch-form mark." Likewise, a pattern, composed principally of a series of diagonal or oblique parallel lines en masse (see Fig. 514), is called shu' k`ish pa tsí nan, from shú e, splints; k`i'sh pai e, tapering (k`ish pon ne, neck or smaller part of anything); and tsí nan, mark; that is, "tapering" or "neck-splint mark." Curiously enough, in a bottle-shaped basket as it approaches completion the splints of the tapering part or neck all lean spirally side by side of one another (see Fig. 515), and a term descriptive of this has come to be used as that applied to lines resembling it, instead of a derivative from ä's sël lai e, signifying an oblique or leaning line. Where splints variously arranged, or stitches, have given names to decorations—applied even to painted and embroidered designs—it is not difficult for us to see that these same combinations, at first unintentional, must have suggested the forms to which they gave names as decorations.

Pueblo coiled pottery developed from basketry.—Seizing the suggestion afforded by the rude tray-molded parching-bowls, particularly after it was discovered that if well burned they resisted the effects of water as well as of heat, the ancient potter would naturally attempt in time to reproduce the boiling-basket in clay. She would find that to accomplish this she could not use as a mold the inside of the boiling-basket, as she had the inside of the tray, because its neck was smaller than its body. Nor could she form the vase by plastering the clay outside of the vessel, not only for the same reason, but also because the clay in drying would contract so much that it would crack or scale off. Naturally, then, she pursued the process she was accustomed to in the manufacture of the basket-bottle. That is, she formed a thin rope of soft clay, which, like the wisp of the basket, she coiled around and around a center to form the bottom, then spirally upon itself, now widening the diameter of each coil more and more, then contracting as she progressed upward until the desired height and form were attained. As the clay was adhesive, each coil was attached to the one already formed by pinching or pressing together the connecting edges at short intervals as the winding went on. This produced corrugations or indentations marvelously resembling the stitches of basket-work. Hence accidentally the vessel thus built up appeared so similar to the basket which had served as its model that evidently it did not seem complete until this feature had been heightened by art. At any rate, the majority of specimens belonging to this type of pottery—especially those of the older periods during which it was predominant—are distinguished by an indented or incised decoration exactly reproducing the zigzags, serrations, chevrons, terraces, and other characteristic devices of water-tight basketry. (Compare Figs. 516, 517 with Figs. 507, 508.) Evidently with a like intention two little cone-like projections were attached to the neck near the rim of the vessel (see Fig. 518) which may hence be regarded as survivals of the loops whereby it has been seen the ends of the strap-handle were attached to the boiling-basket. (See again Fig. 503, a.) Although varied in later times to form scrolls, rosettes, and other ornate figures (see Fig. 519), they continued ever after quite faithful features of the spiral type of pot, and may even sometimes be seen on the cooking-vessels of modern Zuñi. To add yet another link to this chain of connection between the coiled boiling-basket and the spirally-built cooking-pot, the names of the two kinds of vessels may be given. The boiling-basket was known as wó li a k`ia ni tu li a tom me, the corrugated cooking pot as wo li a k`ia te' ni tu li a ton ne, the former signifying "coiled cooking-basket," the latter "coiled earthenware cooking-basket."

Other very important types of vessels were made in a similar way. I refer especially to canteens and water-bottles. The water-bottle of wicker differed little from the boiling-basket. It was generally rounder-bodied, longer and narrower necked, and provided at one side near the shoulders or rim with two loops of hair or strong fiber, usually braided. (See Fig. 520.) The ends of the burden-strap passed through these loops made suspension of the vessel easy, or when the latter was used simply as a receptacle, the pair of loops served as a handle. Sometimes these basket-bottles were strengthened at the bottom with rawhide or buckskin, stuck on with gum. When, in the evolution of the pitcher, this type of basket was reproduced in clay, not only was the general form preserved, but also the details above described. That is, without reference to usefulness—in fact at no small expense of trouble—the handles were almost always made double (see Fig. 521); indeed, often braided, although of clay. Frequently, especially as time went on, the bottoms were left plain, as if to simulate the smooth skin-bottoming of the basket-bottles. (See Fig. 522.) At first it seems odd that with all these points of similarity the two kinds of water-vessel should have totally dissimilar names; the basket-bottle being known as the k`iá pu k`ia tom me, from k`iá pu kĭa, "for carrying or placing water in," and tóm me; the handled earthen receptacle, as the í mush ton ne. Yet when we consider that the latter was designed not for transporting water, for which it was less suited than the former, but for holding it, for which it was even preferable, the discrepancy is explained, since the name í mush ton ne is from i' mu, to sit, and tóm me, a tube. This indicates, too, why the basket-bottle was not displaced by the earthen bottle. While the former continued in use for bringing water from a distance, the latter was employed for storing it. As the fragile earthen vessels were much more readily made and less liable to become tainted, they were exclusively used as receptacles, removing the necessity of the tedious manufacture of a large number of the basket-bottles. Again, as the pitcher was thus used exclusively as a receptacle, to be set aside in household or camp, the name í' mush ton ne sufficed without the interpolation te—"earthenware"—to distinguish it as of terra cotta, instead of osiery.

POTTERY INFLUENCED BY LOCAL MINERALS.

An example in point is the ruined pueblo of A' wat u i or Aguatóbi, as it was known to the Spaniards at the time of the conquest, when it was the leading "city of the Province of Tusayan," now Moki. Over the entire extent of this ruin, and to a considerable distance around it, fragments of the greatest variety in color, shape, size, and finish of ware occur in abundance. In the immediate neighborhood, however, are extensive, readily accessible formations producing several kinds of clay and nearly all the color minerals used in the Pueblo potter's art. Yet at the greatest ruin on the upper Colorado Chiquito (in an arm of the valley of which river A' wat ú i itself occurs), where the fallen walls betoken equal advancement in the status of the ancient builders and indicate by their vast extent many times the population of A' wat u i, the potsherds are coarse, irregular in curvature, badly decayed, and exceptionally scarce. In the immediate neighborhood of this ruin, I need not add, clay is of rare occurrence and poor in quality.

A more reliable example is furnished by the farming pueblos of Zuñi. At Hé sho ta tsí nan or Ojo del Pescado, fifteen miles east of Zuñi, clays of several varieties and color minerals are abundant. The finest pottery of the tribe is made there in great quantity, while, notwithstanding the facilities for transportation which the Zuñis now possess, at the opposite farming town of K`iáp kwai na kwin, or Los Ojos Calientes, where clay is scarce and of poor texture, the pottery, although somewhat abundant, is of miserable quality and of bad shape.

In quality of art quite as much as in that of material this local influence was great. In the neighborhood of ruined pueblos which occur near mineral deposits furnishing a great variety of pigment-material, the decoration of the ceramic remains is so surprisingly and universally elaborate, beautiful, and varied as to lead the observer to regard the people who dwelt there as different from the people who had inhabited towns about the sites of which the sherds show not only meager skill and less profuse decorative variety, but almost typical dissimilarity. Yet tradition and analogy, even history in rare instances, may declare that the inhabitants of both sections were of common derivation, if not closely related and contemporaneous. Probably, at no one point in the Southwest was ceramic decoration carried to a higher degree of development than at A' wat u i, yet the Oraibes, by descent the modern representatives of the A' wat u i ans are the poorest potters and painters among the Mokis. Near their pueblo the clay and other mineral deposits mentioned as abundant at A' wat u i are meager and inaccessible. Still, it may be urged that time may have introduced other than natural causes for change; this could not be said of another example pertaining to one period and a single tribe. I refer again to the Zuñis. The manufactures of Pescado probably surpass in decorative excellence all other modern Pueblo pottery, while both in their lack of variety and in delicacy of execution of their painted patterns the fictiles of Ojo Caliente are so inferior and diverse from the other Zuñi work that the future archæologist will have need to beware, or (judging alone from the ceramic remains which he finds at the two pueblos) he will attribute them at least to distinct periods, perhaps to diverse peoples.

POTTERY INFLUENCED BY MATERIALS AND METHODS USED IN BURNING.

Irrespective of the kind of fuel used, the baking by ash-burial made the ware gray, cloudy, or dingy, and not very durable. Pottery burned with sage or grease-wood was firm, light gray unless of ocherous clay, less cloudy than if ash-baked, yet mottled. Turf and dung, although easily managed, did not thoroughly harden the pottery, but burned it very evenly; dead wood or spunk-cakes baked as evenly as any of the materials thus far mentioned, and more thoroughly than the others. Resinous or pitchy woods, while they produced a much higher degree of heat, could be used only when color was unimportant, as they still are used to some extent in the firing of black-ware or cooking pots. The latter, while still hot from a preliminary burning, if coated externally with the mucilaginous juice of green cactus, internally with piñon gum or pitch, and fired a second or even a third time with resinous wood-fuel, are rendered absolutely fire-proof, semi-glazed with a black gloss inside, and wonderfully durable. Tradition represents that by far the most perfect fuel was found to be cannel coal, and that, where abundant, accessible, and of an extremely bituminous quality, it was much used. The traces of little pit-kilns filled with, cinders of mineral coal about many of the ruins in the northwestern portion of the Pueblo region, coupled with the semi-fusion and well-preserved condition of most of the ancient jars found associated with them, certainly give support to this tradition. Happily I have additional confirmation. When, two years ago, I was engaged in making ethnologic collections at Moki for the United States National Museum, some Indians of the Te wa pueblo brought me a quantity of pottery. It had been made with the purpose of deceiving me, in careful imitation of ancient types, and was certainly equal to the latter in lightness and the condition of the burning. I paid these enterprising Indians as good a price as they had been accustomed to getting for genuine ancient specimens, but told them that, being a Zuñi, I was almost one of themselves, hence they could not deceive me, and asked them how they had so cleverly succeeded in burning the ware. They laughingly replied that they had simply dug some bituminous coal (u á ko) and used it in little pits. When I further asked them why they did not burn their household utensils thus, they said it was too uncertain; representing that the pots did not like to be burned in the u á ko, probably because it was so hot, hence they broke more frequently than if fired in the common way with dried sheep-dung; furthermore the latter was less troublesome, requiring only to be dug from the corrals near at hand and dried to make it ready for use.

This partially explains why the art of water-tight basket-making has here gradually declined since the Spanish conquest, as the ceramic industry has increased with the introduction of the sheep, which furnishes fuel for the burning, and the horse, before unknown, has facilitated transportation, whereby trade for this class of basketry with the distant nomadic tribes who still make it is rendered easy. Withal, however, the quality of pottery has not improved, but has deteriorated; as sheep-dung is but an inferior fuel for firing.

EVOLUTION OF FORMS.

Bearing these statements in mind, the discussion of the evolution as well as of the distribution of form, and later of the evolution of decoration, in pottery will become easier. By lingering steps there was early developed a method of building up vessels by a process differing in part from the spiral. As the parching-bowl had been evolved from the roasting-tray, so, we may infer, the food-bowl was suggested by the hemispherical food-trencher of wicker-work. (See Fig. 523.) Yet, curiously enough, the inside of the latter seems not at first to have been used in molding the food-bowl, as, it will be remembered, the tray had been in forming the parching-pan. On the contrary, the clay was coiled around and around the outside of the bottom of an inverted basket bowl (see Fig. 524), instead of being pressed evenly into it. As with the cooking pot, so with this; as the coiling progressed it was corrugated, not so much, however from necessity, as from habit. In consequence of the difficulty experienced in removing these bowl-forms from the bottoms of the baskets—which had to be done while they were still plastic, to keep them from cracking—they were made very shallow. Hence the specimens found among the older ruins and graves are not only corrugated outside, but are also very wide in proportion to their height. (See Fig. 525.) As time went on it was found that bowls might be made deeper, and yet readily be taken off from the basket bottoms, if slightly moistened outside and pressed evenly all around, or, better still, scraped; for, being plastic, this proceeding caused them to grow thinner, consequently larger, thereby to loosen from the basket over which they had been molded. As a result of this scraping, however, the corrugated surface was destroyed, nor could it easily be restored. Therefore bowls when made deep were, as a rule, smooth on the outside as well as on the interior surface. When by a perfectly natural sequence of events—as will be shown further on—ornamentation by painting came to be applied first to the plain interiors of the bowls, the smooth outer surface was found preferable to the corrugated surface, not only because it took paint more readily, but also because the bowl, when painted outside as well as inside, formed a far handsomer utensil for household use than if simply decorated by the older methods. As a consequence, we find that, while the larger vessels continued to be corrugated and indented, the smoothed and painted bowl came into general use. Associated later on with this secondary type of bowls occurred the larger vessels plain at the bottoms, still corrugated at the sides. Nor is this surprising, as the bowl, molded on the basket bottom and there smoothed, could be afterward built up by the spiral process. When in time the huge hemispherical canteens or water carriers of earthen-ware replaced the basket bottles, so also the water jar or olla replaced the handled sitter or pitcher, since it could be made larger to receive more copious supplies of water than the strength of the frail handles on the pitchers would warrant.

The water jar, like the food-bowl, is a conspicuous household article; for which reason the Zuñi woman expends all her ability to render them handsome. Judging by this, the desire to decorate the water-vessel with paint, like its constant companion the food-bowl, would early lead to the attempt to make its surface smooth. This would need to be effected while the article was still soft; which necessity probably led to the discovery that ajar of the corrugated or simply coiled type may be smoothed while still plastic without danger of distortion, no matter what its size, if supported at the bottom in a basket or other mold so that it may be shifted or turned about without direct handling. (See Fig. 526.)

After this discovery was made, the molding of large vessels was no longer accomplished by the spiral method exclusively. A lump of clay, hollowed out (see Fig. 527), was shaped how rudely so ever on the bottom of the basket or in the hand (see Fig. 528), then placed inside of a hemispherical basket-bowl and stroked until pressed outward to conform with the shape, and to project a little above the edges of its temporary mold, whence it was built up spirally (see Fig. 529) until the desired form had been attained, after which it was smoothed by scraping (see Fig. 530).

The necks and apertures of these earliest forms of the water jar were made very small in proportion to their other dimensions, presumably on account of the necessity of often carrying them full of water over steep and rough mesa paths, coupled perhaps with the imitation of other forms. To render them as light as possible they were also made very thin. One of the consequences of all this was that when large they could not be stroked inside, as the shoulders or uttermost upper peripheries of the vessel could not be reached with the hand or scraper through the small openings. The effect of the pressure exerted in smoothing them on the outside, therefore, naturally caused the upper parts to sink down, generating the spheroidal shape of the jar. (see Fig. 531), one of the most beautiful types of the olla ever known to the Pueblos. At Zuñi, wishing to have an ancient jar of this form which I had seen, reproduced, I showed a drawing of it to a woman expert in the manufacture of pottery. Without any instructions from me beyond a mere statement of my wishes, she proceeded at once to sprinkle the inside of a basket-bowl with sand, managing the clay in a way above described and continuing the vessel-shaping upward by spiral building. She did not at first make the shoulders low or sloping, but rounded or arched them upward and outward (see again Fig. 529). At this I remonstrated, but she gave no heed other than to ejaculate "wá na ni, àná!" which meant "just wait, will you!" When she had finished the rim, she easily caused the shoulders to sink, simply by stroking them—more where uneven than elsewhere—with a wet scraper of gourd (see Fig. 532, a) until she had exactly reproduced the form of the drawing. She then set the vessel aside in the basket. Within two days it shrank by drying at the rate of about one inch in twelve, leaving the basket far too large. (See Fig. 533.) It could hence be removed without the slightest difficulty.

The sand had prevented contact with the basket which would have caused the clay vessel to crack as the latter was very thin. This process exists in full force to-day with the Oraibes in the modeling of convex-bottomed vessels, and the Zuñis thus make their large bowls and huge drum-jars.

Upon the bottoms of many jars of these forms, I have observed the impressions of the wicker bowls in which they had been molded—not entirely to be removed, it seems, by the most assiduous smoothing before burning; for, however smooth any exceptional specimen may appear, a squeeze in plaster will still reveal traces of these impressions.

A characteristic of these older forms of the water-jar is that they are invariably flat or round-bottomed, while more recent and all modern types of the olla (see Fig. 534) are concave or hollowed at the base (see Fig. 535) to facilitate balancing on the head. Outside of this concavity and entirely surrounding it (Fig. 536, a) is often to be observed an indentation (see Fig. 536, b) usually slight although sometimes pronounced.

This has no use, but there is of course a reason for its occurrence which, if investigated, may throw light on the origin of the modern type of the olla itself. The older or round-bottomed jars were balanced on the head in carrying, by means of a wicker-work ring, a kind of "milk-maid's boss." (See Fig. 537.) These annular mats are still found among the ruins and cave-deposits, and continue in use with the modern Pueblos for supporting convex-bottom cooking pots on the floor as well as for facilitating the balancing of large food-bowls on the head. (See Fig. 538.) Obviously the latter dishes have never been hollowed as the ollas have been, because, since they were used as eating-bowls, the food could be removed from a plain bottom more easily than from a convex surface, which would result from the hollowing underneath. Supposing that a water-jar chanced to be modeled in one of the convex-bottom bread-baskets (see Fig. 539), it would become necessary, on account of the thickness of these wicker bowls, to remove the form from the mold before it dried. By absorption it would dry so rapidly that it would crack, especially in contracting against the convexity in the center of the basket-bottom. (See Fig. 539, a.) In order that this form might be supported in an upright position until dry, it would naturally be placed on one of the wicker-rings. Moreover, that the bottom might not sink down or fall out, a wad of some soft substance would be placed within the ring. (See Fig. 540, a.) As a consequence the weight of the plastic vessel would press the still soft bottom against the central wad, (Fig. 540, a) and the wicker ring (Fig. 540, c) sufficiently to cause the rounding upward of the cavity (Fig. 540, b) first made by the convex-bottom of the basket-mold, as well as form the encircling indentation (Fig. 540, c). Thus by accident, probably, only possibly by intention, was evolved the most useful and distinctive feature of the modern water-jar or olla, the concave bottom. This, once produced, would be held to be peculiarly convenient, dispensing with the use of a troublesome auxiliary. Its reproduction would present grave difficulties unless the bottom of the first vessel, thickly coated with sand to prevent cracking, was employed as a mold, instead of the absorbent convex-centered basket-bowl.

I infer this because, to-day, a Zuñi woman is quite at a loss how to hollow the bottom of a water-jar if she does not possess a form or mold made from the base of some previously broken jar of the same type. She therefore, carefully preserves these precious bottoms of her broken ollas, even cementing together fractured ones, when not too badly shivered, with a mixture of pitch or mineral asphaltum and sand. I have seen as many as a dozen or more of these molds (see Fig. 541) in a single store room.

As the practice of molding all new vessels of this class in the bottoms of older ones was general—I might say invariable—any peculiarities of form in the originals must have been communicated to those ensuing; from the latter to others, and so on, though in less and less degree, to the present time. This theory is but tentative, yet it would also explain, on the score of association, why the Pueblo women slightly prefer the jars showing the indentation in question to more regular ones. With the change from elevated cliff or mesa habitations to more accessible ones, the Pueblo Indians were enabled to enlarge the apertures of their water-jars, since not only did the concave bases of the latter make the balancing of them more secure, but the trails over which they had to be carried from watering place to habitation were less rugged. A natural result of this enlargement of the openings, which admitted access with the scraper to the interior peripheries of the thin-walled jars, was the rounding upward of their shoulders, making them taller in proportion to their diameters. This modification of form in the water-jar, taken in connection with the fact that thus changed, it displaced the daily use of the canteen, explains the totally dissimilar names which were applied to the two types. The older, or spheroidal olla, was known as the k`iáp ton ne, from k`ia pu, to place or carry water in, and tóm me; while the newer olla is called k`iá wih na k`ia té èle, from k`iá wih na ki`a na ki`a, for bringing of water: té, earthen-ware, and ë' le or ë'l lai e, to stand or standing. The latter term, té è le, is generic, being applied to nearly all terra cotta vessels which are taller than they are broad. Té, earthen ware, is derived from t´eh', the root also of té ne a, to resound, to sound hollow; while é le, from ë'l le or ël' lai ê, to stand, is obviously applied in significance of comparative height as well as of function.

Thus I have thrown together a few conjectures and suggestions relative to the origin of the Southwestern pottery and the evolution of its principal forms.

EVOLUTION OF DECORATION