In the preceding chapter I have presented, in a broad and casual manner, the work of the Pala basket-makers. They are not confined, however, to this as their only artistic industry. They engage in other work that is both beautiful and useful. For centuries they have been pottery makers, though, as far as I can learn, they have never learned to decorate their ware with the artistic, quaint, and symbolic designs used by the Zunis, Acomese, Hopis and other Pueblo Indians of Arizona and New Mexico, or that might have been suggested by the designs on their own basketry.

The shapes of their pottery in the main are simple and few, but, when made by skilful hands, are beautiful and pleasing. They make saucers, bowls, jars and ollas. Clay is handled practically in the same way as the materials of basketry. After the clay is well washed, puddled, and softened, it is rolled into a rope-like length. After the center is moulded by the thumbs and fingers of the potter, on a small basket base which she holds in her lap, the clay rope is coiled so as to build up the pot to the desired size. As each coil is added, it is smoothed down with the fingers and a small spatula of bone, pottery or dried gourd skin, the shape being made and maintained by constant manipulation. When completed it is either dried in the sun, or baked over a fire made of dried cow or burro dung, which does not get so hot as to crack the ware, or give out a smoke to blacken it.

In the dressing of skins, and making of rabbit-skin blankets, the older Indians used to be great adepts, but modern materials have taken away the necessity for these things.

Before the Palatinguas were removed from Warner's Ranch to Pala, one of them, gifted with the white man's business sense, and with the creative or inventive faculty, started an industry which he soon made very profitable. Every traveler over the uncultivated and desert area of Southern California has been struck with the immense number of yuccas, Spanish daggers, that seemed to spring up spontaneously on every hand. This keen-brained Indian, JosÉ Juan Owlinguwush, saw these, and wiser than some of his smart white brothers, determined to put them to practical and profitable use. He had the bayonets gathered by the hundreds, the thousands. Then he had them beaten, flailed, until the fibres were all separated one from another. The outer skins were thrown away, but the inner fibres were taken and cured. Then, on one of the most primitive spinning-wheels ever designed, and worked by a smiling school-girl, who passed a strap over a square portion of a spindle, at the end of which was a hook, so as to make it revolve at a high degree of speed, the fiber was spun into rope. To the hook the yucca fibre was attached, and as the spindle revolved the hook twisted the fibre into cord. The spinner, with an apron full of the fibre, walked backwards, away from the revolving hook, feeding out the fibre as required and seeing it was of the needed thickness. Some of the rope or cord thus made was dyed a pleasing brown color, and then was woven on a loom, as primitive as was the spinning-wheel, into doormats, which I used, with great satisfaction, for several years.

Soon after the Palatinguas were settled at Pala, the Sybil Carter Association of New York introduced to them, with the full consent of the government officials, the art of Spanish lace-making. In a recent newspaper article it is thus lauded: "Ancient craft [Basket-making] of Pala Indians Gives Place to More Artistic Handiwork." This is a very absurd statement, for wherein is the work of lace-making more artistic than basket-making. In the article that follows our newspaper friend tells us candidly that the creative spirit is still alive in the manufacture of basketry:

The italics are mine. Our writer then goes on to say of the lace-making:

Again the italics are mine. There is no comparison in the art work of basketry and that of lace-making, yet it is a good thing the latter has been introduced. It brings these poor people money easier and quicker than basket-making, and, as they must earn to live, it aids them in the struggle for existence.

In the lace work-room, the last time I was there, thirty-nine weavers in all, varying from bright-eyed children of seven years, to aged grandmothers, were intently engaged upon the delicate work. The bobbins were being twisted and whirled with incredible rapidity and sureness, in the cases of the most expert, and all were as interested as could possibly be.