the grand canyon of arizona-第32节
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ne to their homes at Oraibi or at Walpi； have had the women bring water to the west side of the mesa； and there washed themselves。
CHAPTER XX。 An Historic Trail Across The Grand Canyon Country
The Old Hopi Trail。 One of the most noted aboriginal trails in the western United States； is the old Hopi （generally called Moki） trail； leading from the seven villages of the Hopi and their agricultural offshoot； Moenkopi； to the Canyon of the Havasupais。 This was the trail followed by Lieut。 Frank Hamilton Cushingthe noted ethnologist when he visited these Kuhne kiwes while he was living at the interesting pueblo of Zuni； in New Mexico。 I have made the whole trip from Hopiland to the Havasupais and back twice； and have ridden for many years over small portions of the trail。 It is intimately connected with the history of two of the people seen most at the Canyon。 According to one of the Havasupai legends； the Hopis and Havasupais are descended from twin brothers。 Hence they have always been friendly and have traded continuously the products of their own manufacture。 The Hopis exchange their horses； sheep； and burros； laden with blankets； pottery and silverware； for buckskin； Havasupai baskets （which they prize very highly）； dried peaches； etc。
Originally this was a foot trail； then horses； burros and mules were used； and now； in some portions of its distance； notably from Moenkopi to Oraibi； it is used for wagons。
A Six Day Journey。 Let us leave the home of the Havasupais and go on a visit to the Hopis。 Our trip into Havasu Canyon is described in another chapter。 I discussed the matter with several of the leading Havasupais； and they told me that the trip will be arduous and long。 How long？ Five； six days！
A Side Trail。 But before starting I decided to see one of the outlets to Havasu Canyon； that used to be a part of the old trail； and that was used as an inlet when General Crook and his soldiers came there。 The trail is called after a spring bearing the name Pack…a…tha…true…ye…ba。 Never did I have such a sense of the maze of canyons contained in this system of canyons as on that trip。 My guide was Sinyela； one of the most intelligent Indians of the whole tribe。 We left the Havasupai village early one morning； each riding an Indian pony； with all the provisions we thought we should need on our saddles。 After awhile； we entered a side canyon I had never before explored。 During the whole of that day we toiled； riding as hard as we could over the almost trackless canyon floor； trailing through deep sand； climbing over masses of boulders that freshets or cloud…bursts had。 piled between the walls； forcing our way through dense willows； scratched by thickets of mesquites。 Again and again in the walls were seen cliff…dwellings and corn storage houses。 The heat was intense； and radiated from the precipitous walls on either side。
The Camp at Night。 When night came； we ate our frugal meal； our horses standing by waiting to be hobbled and turned loose。 For beds； we had the nearest layer of sand we could find； with our saddles for pillows。
Suffering from Thirst。 Early in the morning we started again； winding and curving with the course of the Canyon。 For nearly two days we had been without fresh water； and the little we had brought in our wicker…woven； pinion…gum…covered esuwas had to suffice for our needs。 Suddenly we entered a vast amphitheatre； with a rude arch at the end。 It was flower…covered； with occasional trees； and here； hidden from any but the view of an Indian； was found a tiny spring of coolest； purest water。 How we enjoyed it！
A Dangerous Slope。 On the third day； we came to the place where the soldiers descended from the plateau above into the depths of the Canyon。 There was no well…defined trail； and the slope was steep enough to make one's flesh creep。 The site was marked with disaster。 Here a pack mule had slipped； fallen； and been dashed to pieces； there a man had fallen and been killed。 It was a difficult descent； but nerve and pluck had accomplished it。 Beyond was the Pack…a…tha…true…ye…ba Spring； and after seeing its water I determined that we must return。
Capturing Wild Ponies。 On our way back； Sinyela made a proposition that； as our ponies were exceedingly weary； we catch some fresh ones of his； for this was his 〃stock range；〃 and he knew where there were plenty of good animals。 The horses were wild； as range horses generally are； but Sinyela was crafty。 He knew of a blind ravine； or rocky pocket； into which we could drive the horses we needed； and to that end all our energies were directed。 Darting back and forth to arrest the dodging and fleeing animals； we at length succeeded in 〃penning〃 about a dozen horses in the pocket。 Then I watched Sinyela； hand extended； slowly and stealthily approach the pony he needed。 Time and again； as he got nearer and nearer； all the time making a peculiar sissing sound； the horse would suddenly swing around and endeavor to dash away。 But I was 〃guard of the gate；〃 and it was my business to see that none of the band escaped。 It took us fully two hours to catch the two horses。 At last they were ours。 Neither was well broken； though both had been ridden； and the first thing Sinyela did was to blindfold them。 The saddles were removed from our jaded ponies； and placed upon the new ones。 The starts of terror and anger showed what we had ahead of us。 Bridles were adjusted； and then； with our fresh ponies still blindfolded； we sprang into our saddles。 When our feet were firmly placed and all was ready； we lifted the blinds from the horses' eyes and then braced ourselves。 Digging our heels into the ponies' sides； off we started； at a jerking； bounding； half…bucking pace。 Shouting directions to each other； helter…skelter； over and around boulders； we dashed along as if we were after the hounds on a genuine old…fashioned fox…hunt。 I suppose we kept it up a full hour； at topmost speed。 The horses didn't want to stop； and Sinyela knew that the best way to break them was to let them have their own way。 But before the day was over； the ponies were considerably tamed down； and it was a weary band that stopped for camp that night。 The animals were duly hobbled and turned loose； I lit a camp fire； though we had nothing to cook and no kettle for boiling water； and dirty； dusty； with every nerve and fibre of my body weary and aching； I finally stretched out on the solid earth and wooed 〃balmy sleep。〃 The ride was resumed next day。 We finally got ourselves to Sinyela's camp in safety； where a sweat…bath and a swim in the delicious waters of Havasu fully rested us。
The Hopi Trail Ascent。 We decided to leave Havasu Canyon by way of the 〃Make〃 Trail。 This is the same trail as that described in the chapter on the descent into Havasu Canyon from El Tovar； as far up as the point where the pictured rocks appear。 Here the Hopi trail turns and follows the course of the main Havasu Canyon。 Cushing counted forty…four knots in his buckskin fringe from the village to the exit； each knot denoting an abrupt curve or angle in the winding canyons。 The Topocobya Trail descends a sheer cliff of stupendous majesty； and the Wallapai Trail is enough to shatter the nervous system of any but the most experienced； but the Hopi Trail ascent out of the Canyon is different； in that； in several places； it passes through narrow clefts； with ponderous； overhanging rocks； the whole course barely wide enough to permit a laden mule to get through with its pack。 It is an almost vertical ascent of about twelve hundred feet which winds around and up the clefts； up steps hacked out of the solid rock with flint axes and hammers； by the patient hands of long…dead Indians。
The Legend of Ahaiuta。 The Hopis and the Zunis believe this to be the spot where the Zuni god； Ahaiuta； one of the twin gods of war； after the waters of the world had arisen and overwhelmed the nations of their ancestry； and flooded the whole earth from the far west to the Rio Grande； dug a little outlet for the waters。 The flood； finding this hole； had rushed down into the interior of the earth； and had thus worn this terrific cleft； and the gorge below； leaving the marks of its strife upon the banded rocks which surrounded and hovered over us。
Now we scrambled over great rocks； then along a foot…wide trail； and at length wound our way out along a massive bank of talus。 Around at the head of the trail； I sent Sinyela back； and started alone along the historic trail across the plateau。 The general scenery of the plateau already has been described。
A Roundabout Drive。 At this point； I prevailed upon Mr。 Bass to hitch two horses and two mules to his ambulance （which had once been a United States Army ambulance and was used in his Arizona campaigns by General Nelson A。 Miles）； and drivea roundabout way to the northeastern slopes of the San Francisco range； thence to the Little Colorado River； where we would again strike the Hopi trail from Moenkopi to Oraibi。 There were four of us in the party。 From the rim of the Canyon direct to the Little Colorado the route is； at present； inaccessible for wagons。 It is a horse trail； and somewhat of the same nature as all the plateau trails through the Kohonino （Coconino） Forest。 Hence our roundabout wagon trip。
On
