In one house lives a man who makes splendid arrowheads. Next door is an old fellow who is famous for his cotton blankets. Upstairs is an axe maker and still higher, in the third story house, is a man who specializes in tanning buckskin. Across the court is a young fellow who is especially adept at twisting yucca fibers into cords and ropes. In another part of the city is one who makes feather blankets; somewhere else is a jeweler. Some of the men make a number of different things but few of them make all of the items they need.

The result of this semi-specialization is that there is much trading. This is true not only within Cliff Palace but also between the various villages. Within a mile of the large city are more than thirty cliff dwellings. Up the canyon to the north are ten and directly across the canyon, within easy calling distance, are two very small ones. Around the point behind the great, mesa-top, ceremonial building are five, down the canyon are eleven and in the next canyon to the east are several more. In more distant canyons are hundreds of other villages, large and small.

Trails lead from one to the next and when a man needs something he trots off to the place where he knows he can find it. He spends the day at his trading even though he needs only a single stone knife. He may visit two or three men who make knives, haggling with each. In between times he gossips with friends. When meal time comes he pulls up beside any convenient food bowl and is a welcome though uninvited guest. After overeating he takes a nap, then returns to his trading. Toward the end of the day he makes a deal and sets out for home. The same bargain could have been made early in the morning but that would have robbed him of all the day’s pleasure.

Since Cliff Palace is so large it is the scene of much trading, for men from the smaller villages can find anything they want somewhere in the city. Early in the morning they come trotting up the trail to spend the day in the cool shadowy cave trading for what they need. When the heat of the day is over they set out for home with their new possessions.

Sometimes men of other tribes come to trade and there is great excitement in the city. The strangers not only bring beautiful jewelry and much-needed cotton and salt but they bring news from the outside world. This is almost as important as the actual objects of trade and before the trading can begin, the people must hear what is going on outside their own little world.

The news that the welcome traders bring is of an infinite variety. It may concern the weather, the crops, the hunting conditions, or the private affairs of the people. The news may be bad: somewhere a village has been visited by a scourge of dysentery and half of the children are dead; in one region a plague of grasshoppers has destroyed the crops; somewhere else a forest fire has wiped out the entire population; in another place the enemy tribes are becoming stronger and village after village is being wiped out. There is no joy when these things are told. But more often the news is good: there is a fine crop of pinon nuts on a distant mountain; in a certain region the deer are as thick as lice on an old man’s head; a new vein of turquoise has been discovered that yields hard, blue stones. Much of the news is of a personal nature: there has been a murder; in a certain village a woman has had triplets; a man has been thrown out by his mother-in-law because he snored too loudly; a certain priest is having miraculous luck with his healing ceremonies; a deformed child has been born; a well-known chief has gone blind.

Much of the news is pure gossip and it is repeated time after time, gaining spice and details with each telling. There is no restraint in discussions concerning intimate personal affairs and every new bit of scandal is relished by the fireside listeners. The travelers who bring news from distant regions expect an even trade for they must return home with a full stock of news for their own people.

The news which has the greatest effect upon the listeners is that concerning the enemy raiders. For generations the threat has been increasing. So far the Mesa Verde has not suffered but the people know the danger is coming closer each year. There are so many villages on the great, protective mesa that they have always felt safe. In the caves are hundreds of cliff dwellings, all easily defended, and since each village is within shouting distance of the next, help could quickly be summoned. But the savage raiders grow bolder and stronger. Sooner or later they will come climbing up to the top of the Mesa Verde to steal women and corn, even though it is a long way to go for corn.

Except for these alarming bits of news, the visits of the traders are festive occasions. Everyone marvels at the things they bring. The men bargain endlessly and the exchange of news continues day after day. The women cook their finest dishes and the dusty travelers are honored guests. After days of friendly visiting and trading, they start back down the trail bearing the good wishes of the people of Cliff Palace.

Gambling is also a common indulgence among the men and much of the exchange of goods is through gambling rather than trading. At any time of the day a knot of interested onlookers can be seen somewhere in the city, silently watching some game of chance. Anything that has the slightest value can be gambled. The stakes may be only insignificant objects, or a man may stake everything he possesses against a single fine piece of jewelry. It may be a guessing contest, a game of skill, or a pure game of chance in which small carved bones are thrown on the floor and the winner is determined by the manner in which the bones turn up. Someone wins, someone loses, and no one is hurt. By a few days of diligent labor a man can replace any of the things lost, except jewelry, which has the greatest value of any of his possessions. Necklaces, pendants, and earrings are made of turquoise, colored stones and sea shells. Some of them are exquisite: the beads of turquoise or stone are sometimes so fine that there are thousands of them on a single necklace. Such a necklace requires weeks of painstaking labor.

Toward the middle of July there is an ominous threat in the air each afternoon. Billowing thunderheads fill the sky and turn to a dark angry shade. Sudden gusts of wind rip across the mesa tops threatening to uproot the corn and there is a distant roll of thunder. The air is heavy and depressing. Each day the skies become darker. Except for the men who are watching fields, the people stay close to the cave. No one wants to be far from shelter when the storm breaks.

At last the day comes. By noon the sky is filled with heavy clouds. Shortly afternoon there is a sudden roar of wind. Cannonading crashes of thunder echo constantly through the canyons and searing tongues of lightning flick the treetops. Suddenly, all is still. Not a leaf stirs; the world is breathless. The storm draws back its arm for one quiet moment, then mercilessly lashes the earth with floods of rain. Wind, thunder and lightning resume and for a noisy hour the mesas bow their heads under the wrath of the elements.

A roaring waterfall shoots out over the front of Cliff Palace cave and from the bottom of the canyon comes the roar of a rushing stream. The people are silent as they watch the storm from their sheltered housetops. There is joy in their hearts, for the rain ends all worries, but there is an ominous note in the terrible fury of the storm. The male rains of summer are often like this. They make a great show of noise and power, far different from the gentle female rains of spring.

In an hour the storm ends as suddenly as it began. The rain stops, the clouds break up and the sun beams down on a dripping world.

Immediately the men are off to the fields to see if the crops have suffered. The drenched watchers, whose brush shelters were poor protection against the storm, assure them that little damage has been done. Some of the corn is down but it will straighten up. The only real loss is that a few terraces have washed out but that is not serious for the terrace crops are important only in dry years when the mesa-top fields fail.

There is great rejoicing in Cliff Palace. The harvests are assured for now that the rains have started they will continue. Every few days for the rest of the summer there will be a rain, sometimes heavy, sometimes light. The danger of water shortage is definitely ended. All of the pools are full of fresh water and the springs will soon flow with renewed vigor as the rain water reaches them. There is water in abundance and the people no longer need to use it so sparingly.

With the arrival of the rains the heat is broken. The days are cooler now and large, fluffy clouds float about the sky, sending their cool shadows racing across the earth. The nights are sometimes so cool that a feather blanket is necessary for comfort.

As July turns into August the people are happy and contented. All goes well; there are no threats to their security. The fields are bursting with growth and the springs are flowing freely. Those are the two important things in their lives. There is no press of work at this time of the year and life is easy. The men watch the fields and work leisurely at their various crafts. The women still gather plants for food and now that there is an abundance of water they make a little pottery and repair their houses.

As always, the children are restless and active. They imitate their elders, doing everything in miniature; miniature farms, miniature bows and arrows, miniature houses and miniature pottery. Sometimes they capture young animals; birds, chipmunks, squirrels or rabbits and while away the hours in more or less unsuccessful efforts to tame them. They are never without their dogs and as they play about the canyons they keep watchful eyes on their flocks of turkeys lest they stray too far and fall prey to coyotes and foxes.

Life is full of joy for these children. Day after day they do nothing but play Indian!

During the summer there is only one threat to the happiness and security of the people. Only by terrific effort are the medicine men able to avert a calamity that would wipe out the entire population. One afternoon a terrified scream comes from the small cliff dwelling across the canyon and a man is seen dancing about on the cliff, waving his arms and pointing frantically toward the sun.

Alarmed, the men shade their eyes and look at the sun as best they can. Immediately they realize the awful calamity that threatens them. Half of the sun has turned black; some frightful monster is swallowing the Sun God. If it succeeds the world will become dark and cold. Life will end.

Instantly the priests go into action and from the kivas come the sounds of their frenzied chanting. Offerings are made, prayers are sung: they perform every magic trick they know that might force the monster to spit out the sun. Everyone in the village joins in and the men come running from the fields. Only a disaster like this could force them to leave the precious crops. For a frenzied hour the hysterical people call upon their gods to drive away the monster that threatens their Sun God.

For a time the blot on the sun grows larger, then, as the priests redouble their efforts, it begins to diminish. At last it is gone and the exhausted people give thanks to their gods. Once again the power of the priests has saved them.

This thing has happened often, sometimes to the sun, sometimes to the moon. Only a few years ago the monster swallowed the moon completely. The oldest men can remember a time when the sun was swallowed completely and the earth grew dark. But in each case the power of the medicine men prevailed and the moon and sun returned undiminished.

Emergencies of this kind give the people renewed faith in their priests. Sometimes they fail to produce rain or cure the sick but such failures can be overlooked when they are able to overpower a demon which threatens the very existence of the people. Never yet have they lost the battle against this demon which threatens to swallow the moon or the sun. Surely their power is supreme.

Throughout the year the priests have a regular round of ceremonies. Fall and early winter is the great ceremonial season but there are certain ceremonies that must be performed at other times. Healing ceremonies are performed whenever there is need. In the spring the fertility rites must be conducted and during the summer certain ceremonies must be performed which will cause the gods to send rain. In a dry year these rain ceremonies are of utmost importance but in years like this one, when the rains have already come, the ceremonies are more in the nature of thanksgiving. Even though the gods have sent the rain the ceremonies are performed. If they were neglected the gods would be offended.

When the prescribed date arrives the elaborate ceremonies begin. For days there are secret ceremonies in the kiva of the religious society that conducts this particular rite. As a climax the tired priests come out of the secret chamber and perform the public part of the ceremony. Housetops are crowded as the people gather to watch the costumed priests go through the ritual that has been handed down through countless generations of priests. Year after year it is the same but the people never tire of it. Every chant, every offering, every bit of action has a meaning. It is all a part of the yearly cycle of ceremonies that brings happiness and prosperity to the people. This ceremonial cycle is the responsibility of the priests and the people have profound confidence in their abilities.

The people also have great confidence in their chiefs and in the members of the council for these men govern the town. The most important official is the Town Chief, an elderly man who is noted for his wisdom, patience and understanding. He knows many chants and ceremonies which help his people. Next in importance is the War Chief, who guards against enemies, witches and quarrels within the town. The Sun Chief or Sun Watcher follows the movements of the sun and keeps the yearly calendar, and his observations determine the dates for many of the ceremonies. The Hunt Chief is in charge of the hunting activities of the town as well as important healing and hunting ceremonies. Another official who is prominent throughout the year is the Crier Chief. He is the town crier and from his roof he announces important news events and the dates of ceremonies, village hunts and other important affairs.

In addition to these chiefs, there is a council composed of the head men, or chiefs, of all the secret societies. When there are problems to be settled, the council meets: perhaps someone is accused of witchcraft, perhaps two clans are quarreling over farm lands, or it may be merely a personal quarrel between two men. A council meeting is called and the town chiefs and the members of the council meet in a kiva with all the interested parties. A council meeting may last for hours and there is much shouting and quarreling as the evidence is presented. After each person has had an opportunity to give his evidence and opinions the Town Chief makes his decision and the trouble is over. The Town Chief is considered to be wise and just and his judgments are never questioned.

As the end of summer draws near there is new excitement around the cooking fires and in the fields. It is green corn time and the tender ears of corn are at last ready for use. The corn plants are now as high as a man’s head and although the ears are fully formed, the kernels are tender and milky. They are still white: the brilliant colors will not appear until they begin to harden later on. Each day as the men come home from the fields they bring baskets of corn to their wives. The fresh corn is roasted, baked, boiled or stewed and great quantities are eaten when the families gather around their food bowls for the evening meal. Much of this green corn is also prepared for winter use. It is roasted, ground into fine meal and carefully stored away. When winter comes it will be made into delicious mush and a thin gruel which will serve as a hot drink.

Just as summer slips into autumn the corn fields are the scene of a gay festival. Each day the men have examined the ears and now that they are just right, the date is set. The Crier Chief steps out on his roof, which overlooks the entire town, and gaining the attention of the people, announces that the green corn festival will be held in two days. His announcement brings a great flurry of excitement and the women begin to prepare for the feasting which will take place.

On the appointed day all who are able to climb the steep trails hurry to the fields. Yesterday the men dug deep pits in the fields and gathered great quantities of firewood. Hundreds of ears of corn were picked and placed near the pits. Last night fires were started in the pits and all through the night fuel was thrown in to keep the fires roaring.

As the people arrive from the village the fires are allowed to die out and the ashes are scraped out of the superheated pits. Green corn stalks and leaves are used to line each pit and everyone gathers around to toss in the hundreds of ears of unshucked, green corn. When a pit is almost full, more corn stalks are tossed in and the pit is sealed with earth. All through the day the corn steams in the huge ovens.

Small fires are built around the edges of the fields and the women and girls spend the day preparing great quantities of food. The children romp about the fields while wrestling contests, races and games of skill occupy the boys and young men. The older men loaf and talk and, of course, gamble a little. As the day passes the excitement mounts and at last, as the cool evening breeze begins to rustle the corn leaves, the feasting begins.

The pits are opened and the steaming, tender ears are passed out to the famished crowd. It is a joyous feast for green corn is a favorite delicacy. Great quantities of food are consumed and a contented silence settles over the gorged, happy people.

Just as a monstrous full moon rises out of the eastern mesa they return to their homes. They thrill at the sight for it is something many of them seldom see. Cliff Palace cave faces west and they can see the full moon only by climbing to the mesa top.

With the green corn festival over, summer slips quickly into autumn. The slow, easy days of the growing season are over. The strenuous activity of the harvest season faces the people of Cliff Palace.

6
AUTUMN

With the arrival of autumn the finest weather of the year begins. For almost three months it will continue, until winter sweeps down out of the north. In early September the days are still warm but the nights have a pleasant coolness. As the season progresses the daytime warmth continues but the nights become cooler and cooler. By October they are crisp and finally there is frost. The mesas flame with the colors of autumn, the distant mountains are cloaked with a bluegray haze and for weeks the people enjoy the brisk invigorating weather of Indian Summer. Late in October, or in November, there may be a quick flurry of snow, a warning of what is to come, but it disappears as quickly as it came. Far into the autumn the warm days last: sometimes the winter storms do not begin until after the sun has started to return from the south.

Autumn is the happiest season of the year for the people of the Mesa Verde. It is a season of tremendous activity for now they must reap the rewards for the prayers of springtime and the labors of summer. During the spring they were gay and happy but it was not the full unrestrained happiness of autumn. As the farmers planted their crops last spring they felt a certain helplessness. With each tiny seed they planted a prayer: that was the only aid they could give it. Then they were forced to stand by while the forces of nature; the sun, the rain and the earth, did as they pleased with the precious seeds.

Autumn has brought the rewards for their prayers and labors. There is no uncertainty about it. Nature has smiled, the fields have prospered and nothing can rob them of a bountiful harvest. The cooling weather is turning the fields yellow and a period of strenuous activity will soon begin. Every grain of corn, every bean, every squash must be carried down to the cave and stored safely away.

The fields are never left unattended. Ravens, crows and jays try to get at the corn in the daytime and deer get into the fields at night unless they are guarded. All through the night bright fires burn in the fields as the men and boys take turns protecting the crops. As they walk about the fields they gloat over the success of their farming efforts. The corn is higher than their heads and heavy ears bend toward the ground. The bean vines are full of fat pods and the fields are dotted with great yellowing squashes. It will be a wonderful harvest; the fields are full of song and laughter as the proud farmers rejoice over their success.

Even before the main harvest starts, the products begin to trickle down to the cave. There is an abundance of help for even the children and women join in. Each plant is given individual attention and when an ear of corn, a bean pod or a squash ripens too soon, it is picked and carried home.

As the first light frosts of October begin to bring color to the mesas the harvest is on. Everyone helps and from dawn until dusk the trails are full of happy carriers as the fields pour their products into Cliff Palace. Many of the fields are far off across the mesa tops and in a day’s time each person can make only a few trips.

A single, fat slippery squash is all that can be carried at one time and it takes only a few large ears of corn to fill a basket. Dozens of trips are required in harvesting even a small field. Early in the morning the carriers trot down the trails but as the day wears on the pace becomes slower.

Some of the corn is husked in the fields and only the ears are carried home but much of it is snapped off the stalks and taken home to be husked later. Sometimes the stalks are cut and the entire plant is carried down to the cave for the stalks, leaves, tassels and shucks are used in many ways. Beans usually are threshed in the fields. The dry pods are piled on a plot of hard, smooth ground and the women beat them with long sticks until the beans are freed. Then the whole mass of beaten pods is poured from baskets held high above their heads and the breeze blows the chaff away, leaving only the clean beans. Sometimes the beans are picked and carried down to the cave for threshing but that is more difficult for in the cave there is no breeze to blow away the chaff.

As the harvest progresses, Cliff Palace becomes a parade of color. Everything must be spread out on the roofs and in the courts to dry and soon the people can scarcely move about. The corn is brilliantly tinted; red, black, blue, yellow, white and speckled, and the city becomes a flaming riot of colors. Corn is everywhere. It is piled high on the roof tops, it is spread out in every court and long strings of brilliant ears hang from the ends of roof poles. Piles of rich brown beans and waxy yellow and green squashes add to the color and the confusion. The terraced houses of Cliff Palace are now solid banks of color and still the harvest continues.

Like busy brown ants the women and girls move about the throbbing city. From morning until night they are busy shucking corn, threshing beans, braiding strings of corn, turning the corn and beans each day so they dry properly, and finally storing them away in the bins. The storage of supplies is always a responsibility of the women. While the things were growing in the fields they belonged to the men but now that they have been harvested and brought down to the city, they have become the women’s property. The women of each household, which is a group of families, store their foodstuffs in common and apportion them out to the various families as they are needed.

Some of the corn is shelled and stored in baskets but most of it is stored on the cob. The different colors are sorted out and the bright ears are stacked like cordwood. The beans must be stored in baskets and jars but the squashes can be piled anywhere. Many of the squashes are peeled and cut into long strips. After the strips have dried they are rolled up in bundles and stored away. In the winter, soaking will restore the flavor of the fresh squash.

High up in the back of the cave is a long, narrow crevice containing a dozen large storage rooms and throughout the town there are many more. They have been chinked carefully against rats and mice and each one is lined with dry corn leaves and tassels to protect the grain from dampness. One after another these rooms are filled and the doors are sealed.

When the harvest finally ends there are enough beans and corn in storage to last not only until the next harvest, but on through two or three years if coming harvests should fail. By carefully conserving the supplies the people could survive two or three seasons of drouth. That is the possibility for which they must always be prepared, for normal harvests do not come every year.

All through the harvest the workers have watched for perfect ears of corn and when found they were put aside. These will be saved for seed and they are stored separately in the safest, driest places. Even though planting time is months away small ceremonies are performed over these precious ears.

Although the agricultural products are of first importance to the people of Cliff Palace, there are in addition countless wild products that they must gather and store away. Throughout the autumn, when they are not busy with their harvest, they search the mesas and canyons for these natural foodstuffs. Corn, beans, and squash would be a tiresome diet so meat, nuts, roots, fruit, seeds and berries are needed.

This year there is a splendid crop of pinon nuts and the women and children are busy gathering them. The early frosts have opened the cones and the ground under each pinon tree is covered with brown nuts that are scarcely larger than beans. Squirrels, chipmunks and Indians engage in a lively contest for them but there are more than enough for all. They are stored away in baskets to be eaten later in the winter. Usually they are cracked one at a time with the teeth and eaten raw but sometimes they are ground, shell and all, into an oily butter and eaten with corn bread. Pinon nuts are highly prized but they cannot be depended upon regularly. Sometimes several years elapse between crops.

In addition to pinon nuts many other plant products are gathered, dried and stored for the winter. Yucca pods, cactus fruits, berries, roots and seeds all have their uses. Medicinal herbs are also gathered as well as plants that will be needed for dying cotton cloth and buckskin. Bundles of drying plants hang on the walls of every house.

During the summer there was little hunting, for the deer and mountain sheep drifted north into the higher country. Now they are returning and as soon as the harvest is over, the men begin to lay in the winter’s supply of meat. Hunting parties vary in size from one man to all of the men in the town and there are always important ceremonial preparations. Prayer sticks are made, prayers are said and each man carries a tiny stone image of some animal, such as the mountain lion, which is a good hunter. When the organized town hunts are planned, the hunt society holds ceremonies in its kiva the night before the hunt begins. Unless these ceremonial preparations are made, a hunt cannot be successful. If a man were to neglect the ceremonies it would be worse than if he were to forget to take his weapons.

If one man or a small party of men goes out after deer or mountain sheep, they usually stalk the animals and shoot them with their bows and arrows. The men know the game trails and waterholes and by careful, patient stalking, they are able to get within shooting distance. If deer skins are needed for ceremonial purposes, the men run the animals down and choke them to death for ceremonial skins must not be pierced by arrows. When a deer finds that it is being pursued, it becomes too nervous to eat or drink. As the man follows it hour after hour he imitates the cries of coyotes or wolves and after a time the animal is frightened to the point of exhaustion and the man is able to catch it, throw it down and choke it to death.

Dates for the organized hunts, in which all of the men of the town take part, are set by the Hunt Chief and announced by the Crier Chief. When the large groups of men go hunting they either drive the game out on a high point between two canyons or form a large circle and drive the game to the center. The mesa south of Cliff Palace is an excellent place for a game drive for it is narrow and the cliffs are very high. When the Hunt Chief learns that deer or mountain sheep are on this mesa, a hunt is announced and early the next morning the men leave the town. Forming a long line across the mesa they drive the game toward the point. The cliffs are so high the animals cannot leave the mesa top and soon they are cornered on the point of the mesa with a solid line of men blocking their escape. The animals are killed with arrows and clubs and any that dash over the cliff are picked up below.

When a surround hunt has been announced the men go north on the mesa to areas where game is especially plentiful. The easiest way is for them to split into two parties and move up two canyons which are parallel. When a signal is given the men swarm up out of the canyons and form a circle which at first may be a mile in diameter. With much shouting they move toward the center and soon all the deer, mountain sheep, foxes, coyotes, and rabbits which were in the area are surrounded by a tight circle of men. As the frightened animals try to dash out of the circle they are killed with arrows and clubs.

When hunting parties return the game is turned over to the women and girls. The animals are skinned and the meat is cut into long strips. Strings are tied to pegs in the house walls and to the ends of roof beams and soon the houses are festooned with drying meat. Almost every part of an animal is used. The meat and most of the internal organs are eaten, the hide is tanned for clothing, sinews are used for bow strings and for sewing and the bones are made into tools. All through the late fall, hunting continues and for weeks the cave reeks with the strong odor of drying meat.

Throughout the fall the harvesting and hunting activities occupy the people of Cliff Palace. When evening comes they are tired from their labors but they are happy as they sit around the fires which have been lighted to drive off the chill. They face the winter with light hearts for the walls are bulging with the supplies of food that have been stored away.

It is the same all over the Mesa Verde. In every cliff dwelling there is contentment. This has been a good year for the entire tribe and the people are enjoying the reward that has come from their labors.

Even though the strenuous harvest days are over the people are still busy. A cold winter is coming and preparations must be made for it. When December and January come there will be snow and ice. Bitter winds will sweep across the mesa and the shadowy depths of the cave will be cold. An abundance of warm clothing will be required if the people are to enjoy any comfort during the winter.

The most important articles of clothing are the feather blankets. Weaving them is a slow, tedious task but they are splendid protection against the cold. In making a feather blanket only two things are used; small, fluffy turkey feathers and heavy, yucca cord. The feathers are split down the middle and wrapped in a very tight spiral around the cord. A soft, fluffy feather rope results; hundreds of feet are needed for a single blanket. When enough of the feather rope has been made, it is woven into a blanket that is as soft and warm as a fur robe. The men who make these blankets are busy making new ones and repairing old ones. Each person will need one when cold weather comes.

Other men weave new cotton blankets and some of the boys are sent off to the south for more cotton. Cotton robes are not as warm as those made of feathers but they give added warmth when they are worn next to the skin under the feather blankets. When a feather blanket is old and worn some of the feather ends loosen and a cotton under-blanket is needed to prevent scratching.

Deer and mountain sheep skins are tanned into soft white leather. By using bone awls and needles the women sew the skins together with yucca fiber or cotton string and make large robes. A few sleeveless slip-over buckskin jackets are made but most of the people prefer the loose robes. Yucca fiber sandals are worn throughout the year but in the winter grass and juniper bark are sometimes bound to the foot by the sandal lacings and extra warmth is provided. Short leggings, made from buckskin or woven of human hair, are often worn by the men when they leave the cave.

As winter draws near and the threat of cold weather comes close the people check their clothing needs carefully. Each man, woman and child will need certain things so the weaving and sewing continue until everyone is well supplied. With the bountiful supplies of food, an abundance of fuel, and a good stock of clothing the people are able to face the dreary months of winter with less dread. They hate to see winter come for there will be suffering and sadness. But only winter can lead to spring so they must accept it.

In the late fall, when the rush of harvest is over and the preparations for winter are well under way, the men begin to think of ceremonies. This is the season for the greatest ceremonial activity and the men are often busy carrying out the rituals that are prescribed by their elaborate ceremonial calendar.

At almost any time of the year a ceremony of some kind is going on in Cliff Palace. It may be only a simple bit of ritual occupying a single medicine man or it may be an elaborate ceremony that occupies an entire religious society for many days. The priests of each society have a ceremonial calendar and as the seasons roll around they perform their ancient rituals. When, why and how those ceremonies originated they do not know. They learned them from their elders and they will pass them on to the younger men who will succeed them.

Throughout the year many ceremonies are held but the important ceremonial season comes in the late fall and winter. The work of spring, summer and fall is over and the men now have ample time for the involved rituals that keep them in tune with the powers that control the universe. These powers, or gods, are many and varied and strangely, they are both good and bad. The effort of the priests, then, is to call upon the good gods to help the people and to influence the bad gods to leave them alone.

Most important of all the powers is the Sun, who is the Father, and closely allied is the Earth Mother. In addition there are gods who control rain, growth of plants, fertility, the flow of springs and countless other things. Added to these are innumerable lesser supernatural beings who can help or harm the people. All nature is full of powers and it is the business of the medicine men to keep the whole complicated system in tune. It is not so much a worship of the forces of nature as a recognition of these forces. If they work smoothly together, life flows evenly and properly. If there is discord among the natural forces the people suffer. To them it means that some god is not pleased. The result is drouth, pestilence, famine, or any of the other curses that occasionally fall upon them.

In order to explain all of the acts of nature which influence the people, there is a tremendous mass of legends and myths. The origin of the universe and the origin of all life, including the people themselves, is contained in these myths. For every condition or act of nature there is an involved mythological explanation. The medicine men must keep this legendary background in order and they must faithfully carry out the yearly program of ceremonies. One of their most important duties is the training of the younger men. Just as they themselves received the myths and rituals from their elders so must they in turn pass them on to the men who will follow them.

In each generation a certain number of the men are concerned almost entirely with religious matters. They are the medicine men, or priests, to whom is entrusted the responsibility of the delicate adjustments between man and the forces of nature. Each religious society has one or more full-fledged medicine men and a number of younger men who are learning the profession. In addition, all of the other men of the society know a great deal about the mythological background and the ceremonies. Consequently, the men spend a great deal of time in religious work.

Cliff Palace has twenty-three kivas and a large number of secret religious societies. All of the societies have the same general beliefs and background but each society splits off from the main mythological stem and has certain phases of the religious work to carry out. The function of the various societies is to control the weather, bring rain, promote fertility and crops, assure successful hunts, control the sun and the seasons, cure sickness, combat witches and promote the general welfare of the people.

When a boy is twelve or fourteen years of age, he is initiated into one of the societies, usually into the one to which his “ceremonial father” belongs. This “ceremonial father” is the uncle who was chosen to be the boy’s adviser and sponsor and it is natural for the boy to follow him. The uncles on the mother’s side are in many ways closer to a boy than is his own father. The father belongs to a different clan and while he lives with his family, in his wife’s house, he spends a great deal of time with his own clan group where he may be the “ceremonial father” of one of his small nephews. Since marriage cannot take place between two members of the same clan the father is, to a certain extent, an outsider who has little to do with the religious training of his sons. Maternal uncles take the father’s place in this matter.

During the fall, the initiation ceremonies take place and the training of the boys begins. They must learn the legends, the rituals and the endless chants so they can bear their share of the ceremonial work. The few boys who are selected to be medicine men will do little else but sit at the feet of the older medicine men for a score of years. When their teachers die, they will be able to step into their places.

The initiation and the training take place in the kivas. Night after night, through the fall and winter, the great cave resounds with the chants of the priests as they perform the ceremonies or teach them to the newly initiated members. Much of the legendary material is in the form of endless songs and the men never tire of them. Hour after hour they sit around the kiva fires, eyes closed, chanting softly the musical prayers and legends. Often the chanting continues through the night: now that the season’s strenuous work is over the men are able to spend the nights with their ceremonies and rest in the daytime.

Most of the activities of a society take place in its kiva, which is a ceremonial room, work shop, club room and often, a sleeping chamber. During most of the year it serves as a club room for the men. When the time for a ceremony arrives it becomes a sacred, religious chamber. After the conclusion of the ceremony it is again a loafing place and work room. Women usually enter the kivas only on occasions when they take part in the ceremonies, or are invited in to witness them.

An unmarried boy, after being initiated, often sleeps in the kiva of his society. His mother’s house may be crowded with younger children so the warm, underground room is much more pleasant. Married men very often sleep in the kiva, too, but for different reasons. When a man marries, he goes to live with his wife in the midst of her clan relatives. Often he remains, in a sense, an outsider. While he prizes his family and his home, he prizes, also, his kiva sanctuary. When his house becomes too full of words, he can retire to the peace and quiet and good fellowship of this club room which protects him from family troubles.

A typical kiva is a circular, subterranean room, twelve to fourteen feet in diameter and seven or eight feet deep. Its walls are faced with stone to hold back the surrounding earth. At a height of about three feet from the floor the walls are stepped back so there is a ledge or shelf, at least a foot wide running entirely around the room. Resting on this ledge are six small masonry pillars, evenly spaced around the room, that support the roof. These pillars divide the space above the ledge into six recesses, the one to the south usually being deeper than the rest. The tops of the pillars are a couple of feet below the ground level and this space is built up with a cribbing of logs on which rests the roof of logs and adobe. The only door is a small hatchway in the center of the roof.

The kiva is entered by means of a ladder which rests on the floor and extends up through the small door. This door is also the smokehole for directly below it in the center of the kiva floor is a firepit. Fresh air is brought into the room through a small, vertical shaft back of the deep recess on the south side of the kiva. The top of the shaft is a small opening in the courtyard while the bottom opens into the kiva just above the floor. As the smoke and hot air rise through the doorway fresh air is drawn down the ventilator shaft. Between the ventilator opening and the firepit is a small masonry screen, or deflector, that keeps the fresh air from blowing across the fire.

On the other side of the firepit, opposite the deflector, is a small hole in the kiva floor, three or four inches in diameter and only slightly deeper. This small opening is of extreme importance to the priests. It is the sipapu, the symbolic entrance to the underworld. Many of the gods live in the Mother Earth and the prayers of the medicine men reach them through the small opening. The hole is merely a symbol. It represents the opening through which the Indians feel they themselves and all other living things emerged from the Earth Mother.

The people believe the Sun is their father and the Earth their mother. After the union of the two, the people and all other creatures first came into being in a dark cave in the center of the earth, the world of darkness. After a time they climbed up to another cave where there was a little light. This was the world of twilight. For a short time they lived in this twilight world, then they climbed to another cave with still more light, the world of dawn. Finally, they emerged through a small hole in the earth, Sipapu, and were in the present world. All other creatures emerged just as they did; all life came from the Mother Earth.

The little hole in the kiva floor is merely a symbolic sipapu, representing that original Sipapu through which the people emerged from the Mother Earth. It is a symbolic entrance to the spirit world below. During the ceremonies, offerings are placed in the hole or around it and the priests send their prayers through it to the gods who live in the underworld. And when a person dies, his spirit goes back through Sipapu to a pleasant afterworld within the Earth Mother.

When a ceremony is in progress, the kiva is sacred to the members of the society. Food is brought to them by the women and they eat and sleep in the kiva, leaving it only to perform ceremonial errands. Day and night they follow the sacred ritual, preparing their paraphernalia, recounting legends, chanting endless prayers, making offerings to the gods and performing the various ceremonial acts that are prescribed.

In some of the ceremonies the costumed priests emerge from the kiva and perform public dances or rituals. The villagers gather on the roofs surrounding the dance court and watch with serious reverence. They know these ceremonies are necessary if the delicate adjustment is to be maintained between the people and the mysterious powers which affect them.

At the end of the ceremony the kiva becomes a club room and workshop again. Paraphernalia is stored away on the ledges or in small niches in the kiva walls and normal life resumes. A kiva presents a varied scene, for any activity carried on by the men may be performed there. Undisturbed by outsiders they work, loaf, gamble, gossip, trade and sleep in this room which is their most prized possession. Since the women own the homes the kiva is the only bit of real property the men can call their own.

Because of the strange social and religious customs a man’s life is divided into three parts. His family life centers about his wife’s house for there live the wife and children whom he cherishes and for whom he provides. His social life centers about his mother’s home for there lies his clan affiliation. His religious life centers in the kiva which belongs to his religious society or fraternity. These three interests do not conflict. They dovetail perfectly, each taking its proper share of the man’s time and attention.

The life of a woman is much less complicated. Most of her activities concern the home and family and her full time is occupied with them.