The Hopi Wind God

[Robert Spiritwalker Murchison]

Long, long ago, the Hopis were greatly troubled by the wind. It blew and blew
and blew and blew--all the time. The Hopis planted their crops, but before
the seeds could begin to sprout, the wind blew the soil and seeds away.
Unhappy and worried, all the people made prayer offerings of many kinds. But
they accomplished nothing.


The old men held councils in their kivas. They smoked their pipes prayerfully
and asked one another, "Why do the gods turn such strong winds upon us?"
After a while, they decided to ask for help from the "Little Fellows" who
were the two little War Gods, two of the five grandsons of Spider Woman.


"Why did you ask us to come?" was their first question.


"We need your help," answered the old men. "Something must be done to the
Wind."


"We will see what we can do for you," said the Little Fellows. "You stay here
and make many more prayer offerings."


The Hopis make many kinds of prayer offerings--as many as there are prayers,
and there are prayers for every occasion in life and death. They are
reverently fashioned of various types of feathers, carved and painted sticks,
and hand-spun cotton yarn.


The Little Fellows went first to their wise old grandmother, Spider Woman.
They asked her to make some sweet cornmeal mush for them to take along on a
journey. Of course they knew who the Wind God was and knew that he lived over
near Sunset Mountain in the big crack of the black rock.


When Spider Woman had the cornmeal mush ready, the Little Fellows came back
to the kiva where the men were holding their council. The prayer offerings
were ready and also the ball that the Little Fellows like to take with them
wherever they went. They liked to play catch with it.


The men made bows and arrows for them to take on their journey which seemed
much like going on a war party. The arrows were tipped with bluebird
feathers, thought to be more powerful than any other kinds of feathers.


The two Little Fellows started toward the San Francisco Peaks. The old men
went along until they reached the Little Colorado River, and there they sat
down and smoked their pipes. The smoking of tobacco among the Hopis, as among
many other tribes, is strictly ceremonial. The sacred smoke carried the
prayers of the Hopis to their Gods.


Continuing their journey, the two Little Fellows played catch- ball from time
to time. On the fourth day they reached the home of the Wind God who lived at
the foot of Sunset Crater, in a big crack in the black rock. There he
breathed through the crack, as he does to this day. The Little Fellows threw
the prayer offerings into the crack and hastily put their old grandmother's
sticky cornmeal mush into and over the crack, and thus sealed the Wind God's
door. Phew--he became very angry, so angry that he blew and blew and blew,
but could not get out. The Little Fellows laughed and laughed and then went
home, feeling very proud of themselves and of what they had done.


But after a while, the people in the villages began to feel very hot. Every
day the weather became hotter and hotter. People came out of their homes and
stood on housetops to look toward the San Francisco Peaks, to see if any
clouds were coming their way. But they did not see even a wisp of a cloud,
and they seemed not to feel a breath of air. They thought they would
suffocate.


"We must do something right away," everyone said or thought. So the men made
some more prayer offerings and called the two Little Fellows again. "Please
go back to the House of the Wind God at once and tell him that there must be
peace between us. Then give him these prayer offerings and let him out. This
heat is much worse than the wind."


The Little Fellows replied, "We will go and see what we can do with the Wind
God to make life more comfortable for you."


After four days, they arrived at the House of Yaponcha--the House of the Wind
God. The Little Fellows decided that the wisest thing to do would be to let
the Wind God have a small hole open--just enough to let him breathe through
but not enough for him to come out of the crack in the black rock.


So they took a little of the cornmeal mush out of the crack. Immediately, a
nice cool breeze came out and a small white cloud appeared. It floated over
across the desert toward the Hopi villages.


When the Little Fellows reached home, everyone was pleased. The Hopis have
been grateful to the Little Fellows ever since. The winds have been
perfect--just strong enough to keep the people happy but not strong enough to
blow everything away.


Every since then, every year in the windy month of March, the chiefs and the
high priests of the three villages on the Second Mesa give prayer offerings
to the Wind God, Yaponcha.