Some of them, as the Mokis and Lagunas, are organized in gentes, and governed by a council of chiefs, each village being independent and self-governing. They observe the same law of hospitality universally practiced by the Northern Indians. Upon this subject, Mr.
Old Talfeather, chief of the Ogallalahs, has promised to take me into the Big Horn Range. After that I'm going down into the southwest, down through the Uncompagre country. Reynolds says they're the biggest yet, and I'm going to keep right down into the Navajo reservation. I've got a bid from old Silver Arrow, and then I'm going to Walpi and see the Mokis dance.
It is here the Mokis, or Hopi, have their reservation in the very heart of Navajo Land; and there will be no quarrel over possession of this land. It lies a sea of yellow sand with high rampant islands 600, 1,000, 1,500 feet above the plains of yellow tufa and white gypsum rock, sides as sheer as a wall, the top a flat plateau but for the crest where perch the Moki villages.
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.
And I will commune with God and make it right and good that you have more wives. That is Mormonism." "Nas Ta Bega, you mean the Mormons are a great and good people blindly following a leader?" "Yes. And the leader builds for himself not for them." "That is not religion. He has no God but himself." "They have no God. They are blind like the Mokis who have the creeping growths on their eyes.
You remember how we saw the Mokis sitting on the roofs of their little adobe huts in the gray of the morning. They always greet the sun in that way. The Navajos chant." It certainly was worth remembering, I thought, and mentally observed that I would wake up thereafter and listen to the Indian. "Good luck and bad!" went on Jones.
Far in the North dwell a people practically unknown to any but the fur-trader and the explorer. Our information as to Mokis, Sioux, Cheyennes Nez Perces, and indirectly many others, through the pages of Cooper, Parkman, and allied writers, is varied enough, so that our ideas of Indians are pretty well established.
It will be observed that the phrases "great houses of stone," and "good houses of three, or four, or five lofts high," not only describe the pueblo on the Chaco in apt language, but there are no other pueblos in New Mexico, exclusively of stone, of which we have knowledge, except those of the Mokis, in the Canyon de Chelly, on the Animas River, and elsewhere in Southwestern Colorado.
He had seen all phases of wild life and had carried out his plans to see the wonders of America. He had crossed the Painted Desert and camped beside the Colorado in the greatest cañon in the world. He had watched the Mokis while they danced with live rattlesnakes held between their lips.
In the gloom of early dawn, before the pink appeared in the east, and all was whitening gray, the Mokis emerged from their little mud and stone huts and sat upon the roofs with blanketed and drooping heads. One day August Naab showed in few words how significant a factor the sun was in the lives of desert men. "We've got to turn back," he said to Hare.