The Hopi is essentially religious. As a ritualist he has no superior on the face of the earth. From the ceremonial standpoint the Hopi people are the most religious nation known. From four to sixteen days of every month are employed by one society or another in the performance of secret religious rites, or in public ceremonies, which, for want of a better name, the whites call dances. So complex, indeed, is the Hopi's religious life that we have no complete calendar as yet of all the ceremonies that he feels called upon to observe. Every act of his life from the cradle to the grave has a religious side. Fear and the need for propitiation are the motive powers of his religious life, and these, combined with his stanch conservatism, render him a wonderfully fertile subject for study as to the workings of the child mind of the human race.

With such a complex and vast religious system this chapter can attempt no more than merely to outline or suggest the thoughts upon which his religion is based, and then, in brief, describe two or three of the most important of his religious ceremonials.

I can do better than attempt a difficult matter, and one that requires years of study, viz., to account for the religious concepts of the Indian. I can urge the reader to obtain Major J. W. Powell's "Lessons of Folk-lore," which appeared in the American Anthropologist for January-March, 1900. In it he has written a most fascinating account of the thought movements of the Amerind; and Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, in his "Interpretation of Katchina Worship," has given a clearer idea of Hopi religious belief than has ever before been penned.

Group of Hopi Maidens at Shungopavi.

The Hopis themselves are not aware of the why and wherefore of all they do. For centuries they have followed "the ways of the old," until they are ultra conservatives, especially in matters pertaining to religion.

I have already referred to and described the kivas or underground ceremonial chambers, where many of their rites are performed.

Six objects closely connected with their worship should be thoroughly understood, as such knowledge will simplify a thousand and one things that will otherwise appear mysterious to one who visits the Hopis for the first time. These objects are the baho (prayer stick or plume), the puhtabi (road marker), the tiponi, the natchi, the shrine, and the katchina.

The baho is inseparably connected with all religious ceremonies and prayers. Without it prayers would be inefficacious. Generally, before every ceremony is performed, a certain time is given to the making of bahos. One form of baho is made of two sticks, painted green with black points, one male and the other female, tied together with a string made of native cotton, and cut to a prescribed length. A small corn husk, shaped like a funnel and holding a little prayer meal and honey, is attached to the sticks at their place of union. Tied to this husk is a short, four-stranded cotton string, on the end of which are two small feathers. A turkey wing-feather and a sprig of two certain herbs are tied so as to protrude above the butt ends of the sticks, and the baho is complete.

Other bahos are made of flat pieces of board, anywhere from a foot to three feet in length, and two inches or more wide, to which feathers and herbs are attached. On the face of these figures of katchinas, animals, reptiles, and natural objects, such as rain-clouds, descending rain, corn, etc., are painted, every object having a distinct and symbolic meaning. In other cases the bahos are carved into the zigzag shape of the lightning. The Soyal bahos are many and various. Some are long, thin sticks, with cotton strings and feathers attached near the ends; others are thicker, with many feathers tied to the centre; some are bent or crook-shaped, while still others are long willow switches to which eagle, hawk, turkey, flicker, and other feathers are tied. They are made with great care and solemnity and prayed over and "consecrated" before being used. They are "prayer bearers," the feathers symbolizing the birds who used to fly to and from the World of the Powers with their messages to mankind and the answers thereto.

The puhtabi (or road marker) is a long piece of native cotton string, to which a feather or feathers are attached, and it is placed on the trails to mark the beginning of the road (hence its name) to the shrines which are to be visited during the ceremonies.

The tiponi is to the Hopi what the cross is to the devout Catholic. No altar is complete without it. Altars are often set up with a substitute for a tiponi, but all recognize its insufficiency. Tiponis vary, that of the Antelope Society being a bunch of long feathers (see the photograph in the chapter on the "Snake Dance"), while that of the Soyal ceremony is of a quartz crystal inserted into a cylindrical-shaped vessel of cottonwood root.

In the Lelentu and Lalakonti ceremonies part of the rites consist in an unwrapping of the tiponis. In both of them either kernels of corn or other seeds formed essential parts. Dr. Fewkes says: "From chiefs of other societies it has been learned that their tiponis likewise contained corn, either in grains or on the ear. Although from this information one is not justified in concluding that all tiponis contain corn, it is probably true with one or two exceptions. The tiponi is called the "mother," and an ear of corn given to a novice has the same name. There is nothing more precious to an agricultural people than seed, and we may well imagine that during the early Hopi migrations the danger of losing it may have led to every precaution for its safety. Thus it may have happened that it was wrapped in the tiponi and given to the chief to guard with all care as a most precious heritage. In this manner it became a mere symbol, and as such it persists to-day."

Whenever ceremonies are about to take place in the kivas the chief priest puts in place on the ladder-poles or near the hatchway of each participating kiva a sign of the fact, called the natchi. This I have later described on the Snake and Antelope kivas. At the Soyal ceremony on the Kwan (Agave) kiva, the natchi consisted of a bent stick, to which were fastened six feathers, representing the Hopi six world-quarters. For the north, a yellow feather of the flycatcher or warbler; for the west, a blue feather of the bluebird; for the south, a red feather of the parrot; for the east, a black-and-white feather of the magpie; for the northeast (above), a black feather of the hepatic tanager; and for the southwest (below), a feather from an unknown source and called toposhkwa, representing different colors.

The natchis of two of the kivas in the New Fire ceremony held in Walpi in 1898 were sticks, about a foot long, to the ends of which bundles of hawk feathers were attached. At another kiva it was an agave stalk, at one end of which were attached several crane feathers and a circlet of corn husks. A natchi used later by another society consisted of a cap-shaped object of basketry, to which were attached two small whitened gourds in imitation of horns.

That the natchi is more than a sign of warning to outsiders to keep away from the secret rites of the kiva is evidenced by the variety of materials used; and, indeed, the things themselves are now known to be symbols, to some of which Mr. Voth has learned the key. For instance, on the natchi of the Snake and Antelope Societies, the skins of the piwani—which is supposed to be the weasel—are attached. The Hopis say of the animal to whom the skin belongs that when chased into a hole, he works his way through the ground so quickly that he escapes and "gets out" at some other place. Now see the ceremonial significance of the use of this weasel's skin on the Snake natchi. They are supposed to affect the clouds and compel them to "come out," so that rain will come quickly.

Near all the villages, or on the terraces below, a number of shrines may be found where certain of the "Powers" are worshipped. In the account of the Snake Dance I speak of the shrine of the Spider Woman, and show the photograph made when I followed Tubangointiwa (the Antelope chief), and watched him deposit bahos and offer prayers to her. The number of shrines is large. I have seen many, but there is not space here to describe them. It is an interesting occupation, during the ceremonies, to follow the priests, after they have deposited the puhtabi and begun to sprinkle the sacred meal, to the shrines. If the observer can then have explained to him the deity to whom the shrine is dedicated, and his or her place in the Hopi pantheon, his knowledge of Hopi worship will be considerably increased.

Of katchinas much might be written. They are ancient ancestral representatives of certain Hopi clans who, as spirits of the dead, are endowed with powers to aid the living members of the clan in material ways. The clans, therefore, pray to them that these material blessings may be given. "It is an almost universal idea of primitive man," says Fewkes, "that prayers should be addressed to personations of the beings worshipped. In the carrying out of this conception men personate the katchinas, wearing masks and dressing in the costumes characteristic of these beings. These personations represent to the Hopi mind their idea of the appearance of these katchinas or clan ancients. The spirit beings represented in these personations appear at certain times in the pueblo, dancing before spectators, receiving prayer for needed blessings, as rain and good crops."

The katchinas are supposed to come to the earth from the underworld in February and remain until July, when they say farewell. Hence there are two specific times which dramatically celebrate the arrival and departure of the katchinas. The former of these times is called by the Hopi PowamÛ, and the latter Niman. At these festivals, or merry dances, certain members of the participating clans wear masks representing the katchinas, hence katchina masks are often to be found in Hopi houses when one is privileged to see the treasures stored away. In order to instruct the children in the many katchinas of the Hopi pantheon, tihÛs, or dolls, are made in imitation of the ancestral supernal beings, and these quaint and curious toys are eagerly sought after by those interested in Indian life and thought. Dr. Fewkes has in his private collection over two hundred and fifty different katchina tihÛs, and in the Field Columbian Museum there is an even larger collection.

Of the altars, screens, fetishes, cloud-blowers, ceremonial pipes, bull-roarers, etc., I have not space here to write. Suffice it to say they have a large place in the Hopi's ritual and all should be carefully studied.

When I first began to visit the Hopis my camps were generally at the foot of the trail, as near to water as possible. Every morning at a very early hour I was awakened by a loud ringing of cowbells, and at first I thought it must be that the Hopis had a herd of cows and they were driving them out to pasture. They were evidently going at a good speed, for the bells clanged and clattered and jangled as if being fiercely shaken. But when I looked for the cows they were never to be seen. Then, too, as on succeeding mornings I listened I found the animals must be driven very hastily, for the sound moved with great rapidity towards, past, away from me.

One morning I determined to get up and watch as soon as I heard the noise approaching. It was just as the earliest premonitions of dawn were being given that I was awakened, and, hurriedly jumping up, stood on my blankets and watched. Soon one, two, four, and more figures darted by in the dim light, each carrying a jangling cowbell, and to my amazement I found they were not cows, but Hopi young men, naked except for a strap or girdle around the loins, from which hung the bell, resting upon the haunch. They were out for their morning run, and it was not merely a physical exercise, but had a distinct religious meaning to them. As I have elsewhere written:—

"The Hopi has lived for many centuries among the harsh conditions of the desert land. Everything is wrested from nature. Nothing is given freely, as in such a land as southern California for instance. Water is scarce and has to be caught in the valley and carried with heavy labor to the mesa summit. The soil is sandy and not very productive unless every particle of seed corn is watered by irrigation. Firewood is far away and must be cut and brought to their mesa homes with labor. Wild grass seeds must be sought where grass abounds, perhaps scores of miles away, and carried home. Pinion nuts can only be gathered in the pinion forests afar off, and to gain mescal the pits must be dug and the fibres cooked deep down in the mysterious recesses of the Grand Canyon. The deer and antelope are swift, and can only be caught for food by those who are stout of limb, powerful of lung, and crafty of mind. Hence in the very necessities of their lives they have found the use for physical development. And this imperative physical need soon graduated into a spiritual one. And the steps or processes of reasoning by which the chief motive is transferred from the physical to the spiritual are readily traceable. Of course, they are a 'chosen people.' 'Those Above' have given especial favors to them. They must be a credit to those Powers who have thus favored them. This implies a steady cultivation of their muscular powers. Not to be strong is to be a bad Hopi, and to be a bad Hopi is to court the disfavor of the gods. Hence the shamans or priests urge the religious necessity of being swift and strong."

Hopi Woman weaving Basket, her Husband knitting Stockings.

Hopi Woman preparing Corn Meal for making Doughnuts.

Nor is this all. In days gone by they were surrounded by predatory foes. Physical endurance was an essential condition of national preservation. Without it they would long ago have been starved or hunted out of existence. The gods called upon them to preserve their national life, to live by cultivation of endurance, hence the imposition of physical tasks as a religious exercise.

And these morning runs of the young men were of ten, twenty, and even more miles, taken without any other food than a few grains of parched corn.

It is no uncommon thing for an Oraibi or Mashonganavi to run from his home to Moenkopi, a distance of forty miles, over the hot blazing sands of a real American Sahara, there hoe his corn-field, and return to his home, within twenty-four hours. The accompanying photograph of an old man who had made this eighty-mile run was made the morning after his return, and he showed not the slightest trace of fatigue.

For a dollar I have several times engaged a young man to take a message from Oraibi to Keam's Canyon, a distance of seventy-two miles, and he has run on foot the whole distance, delivered his message, and brought me an answer within thirty-six hours.

One Oraibi, Ku-wa-wen-ti-wa, ran from Oraibi to Moenkopi, thence to Walpi, and back to Oraibi, a distance of over ninety miles, in one day.

When I was a lad I got the impression somehow that Indians made fire by rubbing two sticks together. Once or twice I tried it. I got two sticks, perfectly dry, and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. But the more I rubbed, the cooler the sticks seemed to get. I got hot, but that had no effect on the sticks.

Later in life, when I began to make my journeys of exploration in the wilds of Nevada, California, Arizona, and New Mexico, and I sometimes needed a fire, and didn't have a single match left, I tried it again; this time not as an experiment, but as a serious proposition. My rubbing of the two sticks, however, never availed me a particle. I might as well have saved my strength for sawing wood. Yet the Indians do get fire by the rubbing of two sticks together, and the occasion of their doing it is one of the greatest and most wonderful of the religious ceremonies of the Hopis. Dr. Fewkes has written for the scientific world a full account of it, and from that account I condense the following.

Few white men have ever seen the ceremony, and did they do so and tell the whole of what they saw they would not be believed.

Four societies of priests conduct the elaborate rite at Walpi. It is not held at Sichumavi or Hano, but is conducted at Oraibi and the three villages of the middle mesa. "The public dances are conducted mainly by two of the societies, whose actions are of a phallic nature. These two act as chorus in the kiva when the fire is made, but the sacred flame is kindled by the latter two societies.... For several days before the ceremony began, large quantities of wood were piled near the kiva hatches, and after the rites began, this fuel was carried down into the rooms and continually fed to the flames of the new fire by an old man, who never left his task. The flames of the new fire were regarded with reverence; no one was allowed to light a cigarette from it or otherwise profane it."

On the first day the chiefs assembled for their ceremonial smoke, and the next day at early dawn one of them went to the narrow portion of the mesa between Walpi and Sichumavi and laid on the trail one of the puhtabi, or long strings, elsewhere described, sprinkling a little meal and casting a pinch toward the place of sunrise. At the same time he said a prayer: "Our Sun, send us rain." Just as the sun appeared he "cried" the announcement, of which Dr. Fewkes gives the free translation:—

Four days later, with elaborate preparation and carefully observed ritual the new fire was made. About a hundred participants were present. When all were ready the fire-board was held in position by two kneeling men, while two others manipulated the fire drill. The singing chief then gave the signal and two societies started a song, each with different words and yet in unison, accompanied by clanging of bells and rattling of tortoise shells and deer hoofs. The holes of the fire-board and stones were sprinkled with corn pollen. The spindle or fire drill was held vertically between the palms, and in rotating it the top was pressed downward. Smoke was produced in twenty seconds and a spark of fire in about a minute. The spark smudged cedar-bark, which was put in place to catch it, and then the driller blew it into a flame. This flame was then carried to a pile of greasewood placed in the fireplace, and as the wood blazed to the ceiling the song ceased. Prayer was then offered by one of the chief priests of one of the societies and ceremonial offerings sprinkled into the fire. This priest was followed by one from each of the other societies and by individual worshippers.

They then, in procession, paid a ceremonial visit to the shrine of the Goddess of Germs, which is among the rocks at the southwestern point of the mesa. It is made of flat stones set on edge, opened above and on one side, and consists of a fetish of petrified wood.

Then followed a complex series of ceremonies that merely to outline would require several pages. Some of them are public dances, others dramatic representations in a crude fashion of what the legends of the Hopis say are certain events which transpired in the underworld, and a most important one is the disposal of the sacred embers of the new fire.

There are few ceremonies in the world that equal in solemnity and interest, and that are more charming, than those performed by the parents and other relatives when a Hopi baby comes into the world. There are religion, affection, sentiment, and poetry embraced in what we—the superior people—would undoubtedly term the superstitious rites of these simple-hearted people. One reason for the fervor of this rite is the genuine welcome every Hopi mother and father accord to their baby when it is born. It is "good form" among them to be proud of the birth of their children. No married woman is happy unless she has a "quiver full" of children, and one of her constant prayers before her marriage is that she may be thus blessed.

So when the child comes there is great rejoicing. It is immediately rubbed all over with ashes to keep the hair from growing on the body; or that, at least, is the reason the Hopi mother gives for allowing her little one to be scrubbed all over with the ashes.

Then it is wrapped up in a cotton blanket of the mother's own weaving, for Hopi women, and men also, are great experts in growing, spinning, and weaving cotton. Now it is ready for the cradle. This is either a piece of board or a flat piece of woven wicker-work about two and a half feet long and a foot wide. There is also fixed at the upper end two or three twigs arranged in a kind of bow, so that a piece of cloth thrown over them forms an awning to protect the face of the child from the sun. When this bow is not in use it can be slipped over to the back of the cradle. Strapped in this queer cradle, the baby is either stretched out upon the ground to go to sleep, covered over with a blanket, or reared up against the wall. But if your eyes were keen you would see by its side a beautiful white ear of corn. And if you saw it and knew the Hopi mother's ways and her thoughts, you would find that the reason for putting the corn there was this: she believes that the corn represents one of her most powerful gods on the earth, and that if this god is made to feel kindly towards the new-born child he will send it good health and strength and skill in hunting and everything else that she desires for her loved baby. So, you see, it is mother love, combined with a singular superstition, that makes the Hopi mother place the ear of corn by the side of her sleeping child.

When the baby is twenty days old it is—shall I say?—baptized. You can hardly call it this, but, anyhow, it answers the same thing as baptism does with us. About sunset the child's godmother arrives. She is generally the grandmother or aunt on the father's side. Just as the first streaks of light begin to come in the early morning the ceremony begins. After washing the mother's head and legs and feet, the baby's turn comes. The house is full of relatives and friends to watch and bring good fortune to the little one. A bowl of suds is made by beating the soapweed until the water is covered with beautiful lather. Then the godmother takes an ear of corn, dips it into the suds, and touches the baby's head with it. This she does four times. Then she washes the baby's head very carefully and thoroughly in the suds. But the washing would be of no good unless all the baby's female relatives on the father's side were to dip their ears of corn into the suds and touch its head with them four times, just as the godmother did. Now the baby is washed all over, and then—strange to say—the godmother fills her mouth full of warm water, and, balancing the baby on one hand, she squirts the water from her mouth all over the little one. To dry it, she holds it before the fire, and when it is quite dry she rubs it with white corn-meal, wraps it in a blanket, and passes it over to the mother, who is seated near to the fire. Just before her are two baskets full of corn-meal, one coarsely and one finely ground. Taking an old blanket, the godmother spreads it over the mother's lap, the baby is placed on it, then she takes a little of the fine meal and rubs it on the face, arms, and neck of the mother, and also upon the face of the child. Then with the ear of corn in her hand, and slowly and regularly moving it up and down, she prays first over the mother, then over the baby. I have heard several of these prayers. Here is one of them: "Ho-ko-na (butterfly), I ask for you that you live to be old, that you may never be sick, that you may have good corn and all good things. And now I name you Ho-ko-na" (or whatever the name is to be).

Then every woman and girl of the father's relatives does just the same and prays the same kind of prayer; but singular to us is the fact that each one gives the child any name she prefers. As each one finishes her prayer, she gives her ear of corn and some sacred meal she has brought with her to the mother, who invariably responds with the Hopi "Thank you!"—"Es-kwa-li."

Nobody knows at the time which name the baby will have, as he or she grows up. That is left to chance to determine—generally the preference of the mother.

Now the baby is put in its cradle, with some of the ears of corn presented to the mother placed under the lacing on the breast of the little one, and it is ready to be dedicated to the sun. After sweeping the floor, the godmother sprinkles a line of meal about two inches wide from the cradle to the door, and the mother does the same thing.

Hopi "Boomerangs."

In the collection of George Wharton James.

Hopi Ceremonial Drums.

In the collection of George Wharton James.

Out of doors the father is anxiously watching for the first direct light of the sun, and the moment it appears above the horizon he gives the signal. Immediately the godmother picks up the cradle, so that the baby's head is towards the door, and near to the floor, carries it over the line of sacred meal, the mother following. Each has a handful of meal. At the door they stand side by side. The godmother removes the blanket from the baby's face, holds the sacred meal to her mouth, says a short prayer, and then sprinkles the meal towards the sun, and then the mother does the same; and, after ceremonially feeding the baby, all joining in the feast, the ceremony is at an end.

Another most beautiful ceremony of the Hopis is that which alternates with the Snake Dance, viz., the Lelentu, or Flute Dance. I have had the pleasure of witnessing it several times, and last year (1901) was one of five white persons present. To me this meant walking a weary thirteen miles over the hot sands of the Painted Desert, carrying a camera weighing about fifty pounds on my back. But the beauty and charm of the ceremony and the satisfaction of obtaining the photographs of it more than repaid me for the hot and exhausting walk.

After the secret kiva ceremonies (rites in the underground chambers of the fraternity of the Flute) the first public rites of the day took place at a spring near the home of LolÚlomai, the chief of the Oraibi pueblo, and about five miles west of the town. Here is one of the pitiful springs upon which the people depend for their meagre supply of water. Just before noon men, women, and girls might have been seen wending their way from the village on the mesa height, down the steep trails, over the sandy way trodden for centuries by their forefathers, towards the location of the spring.

Every face was as serious and wore as grave and earnest an expression as that of a novice about to be confirmed in her holiest vows. Arrived at the spring, an eminence just above it to the southwest was the chosen site for the preliminaries. Here an hour or more was spent in prayers, sprinkling of meal before and upon the altar, and the painting of the symbols of the clan upon the participants.

Other priests during the whole time were on their knees or in other postures of reverence, praying, singing, or chanting, and sprinkling the sacred meal on or before the altar. A large number of bahos, or prayer sticks and plumes, were used.

At this time the chief priest left the hillside and solemnly marched down to the spring. It is circular in shape, and with a rude wall built around it. At the opening in the circle three small gourd vessels were placed, two of which held sacred water from some far-away spring, and the other was full of honey. A singular thing occurred about the filling of this honey jar. A nest of bees had located in the wall of the spring, and the chief priest, taking it for granted that this was a good sign, had the nest dug out and the honey extracted from the comb, for his sacred purposes. After he had prayed for a while the priests and women from above marched down, all except the flute players. As they stood around the spring they sang and prayed, while the chief priest stepped into the water, bowing his face down over it, and waving his tiponi in and through it. Soon it was a filthy, muddy mess, instead of a water spring, and when it seemed mixed up enough he began to dip his face deep into it, while the men and women around continued their singing and worship.

Then he came forth, and now began a most beautiful processional march around the spring, in time to the weird playing of the priests above. After three times circling around, the group stood, facing the west, and at certain signals sprinkled large handfuls of sacred meal in the direction of the water. This was followed by a most profuse scattering of bahos in the same manner. Literally hundreds of them were thus thrown, and I gathered (after the celebrants were gone) scores of them for my collection. The bahos used on this occasion were mere downy feathers to which cotton strings were attached. The effect as the meal and the feathers were thrown was remarkably beautiful, and the scene was most impressive; none the less so for its strangeness and peculiarity.

These concluded the ceremonies at this spring. In the meantime the chief priest had gone to his house over the hill, and from there had started out a group of young men who were to race to the spring near the mesa—four miles away. It was a scorching hot day—as I had found out in my own walk—and yet these young men bounded over the sandy trail like hunted deer. It was a glorious sight to witness them. Ten or a dozen athletic youths, clad scantily, their bronzed figures in perfect proportion, revealing their strength and power, their long black hair waving out behind them, darting off like strings from a bow across the desert.

Slowly we followed them, and when we arrived at the other spring found they had long ago passed it, and the victor had received his reward.

Similar ceremonies were gone through at the near-by spring as at the one farther away, and when they were completed the whole party formed in procession, and as solemnly as if it were a funeral march proceeded up the steep trail to the village and there repeated some of the ceremonies already described.

The purport of all this it is comparatively easy to understand. The Snake Dance is a prayer for rain, which, according to the Hopi's ideas, is stored in vast reservoirs in the heavens. He also believes that there are vast water supplies under the earth, and so, every other year, he petitions the powers that govern and control these subterranean reservoirs to loosen the waters and let them flow forth into the springs.

In one of the dances of the Navaho they symbolize the water from above and the water from below by linking the first fingers together. This gives us the Greek fret, and when this symbol is copied in their basketry, we see this classic design, purely the result of imitation, and having as clear a meaning to the Indian mind as the cross has to the Christian.

Reluctantly I am compelled to omit a brief account of the Basket Dance, which, however, I have partially described in my book on "Indian Basketry."

The Hopis have very clear and distinct conceptions of a spirit life beyond the grave. It is not the "happy hunting-ground," though, to which the general ideas of the whites consign them. Theirs is a world of spirits, with some advantages over the world of human beings, but where life is very similar to what it was on earth. There is neither punishment awarded for wrong done on earth, nor reward for good living. It is simply a continuation of previous existences. When a child is born the spirit is supposed to come from the underworld through an opening in the earth's crust called Shi-pÁ-pu, and when the grown man dies his spirit returns thither. His body is buried in a cleft of the rocks on the mesa side, a mile or so away from the village. The body is wrapped up and placed in the rocky grave, and then covered with loose rocks. Food and drink are placed on the grave, so that when the spirit ascends from the body and begins its long journey to Shi-pÁ-pu and thence to the underworld, it may have food wherewith to gain strength. The curious visitor will also notice the baho which is thrust between the rocks until it touches the body. Another baho touching this upright one is placed on the grave pointing toward the southwest. These bahos are especially prepared by the shaman, or "medicine man," and are for the purpose of guiding the spirit as it leaves the body. If no baho were there, the spirit might grope in darkness, trying to force its way down; but, being directed by the prayers of the shaman, the disembodied spirit immediately realizes the guiding power of the baho, and, following it, reaches the companion baho pointing to the southwest, the direction it must travel to reach the entrance to the underworld. This entrance to the underworld was long thought to be in the San Francisco Mountains near Flagstaff. But Dr. Fewkes explains this to be an error. The Shi-pÁ-pu is, to the Hopi, the "sun-house or place of sunset at the winter solstice. As seen from Walpi, the entrance to the sun-house is indicated by a notch on the horizon situated between the San Francisco range and the Eldon mesa," hence the conception that the entrance to the underworld was in that exact location.