National Geographic : 1948 May
On a Lard-can Drum the Dance Leader Thumps Around him, Havasupai and members of visiting Arizona tribes the sand. The drummer-leader, chosen for his ability to invent others repeat it in a low-pitched chant as they dance. The summer months are still the fullest of themselv the year; and Havasupai, no matter where highly ex they are, try to return to the village for the almost ex annual harvest celebration, or peach festival, do his p; which is held in late August or early Septem- and the n ber. To this festival they invite the neigh- loudly be boring Walapai and Mohave from the west, been virt and the Hopi and Navajo from the east. supai are Some of the guests ride 165 miles to attend With r (Plate III). morning Rodeo Features Harvest Festival to Hillto Joe Joi There are dances in which every one takes pack hor part; but today the festival highlight is the of a thou all-Indian rodeo in which the various tribes the dilap compete. Before the celebration young braves and sat d ride far on the plateau rim to round up a prepared sizable herd of cattle for use in the bull- "Is th dogging and branding contests. The Hava- you, Joe supai own few cattle and must go beyond asked hir the canyon walls to obtain the necessary steers. "I like Horses for the bronco riding are readily said Joe, available, since ponies are a Havasupai's He was most prized possession and each family owns again as several (Plate VII). trail, my The Indians organize and direct the fun back of h S lliill 1Iis KiiI)p, Jr. out a Harvest-dance Rhythm form a circle, their boots swishing through festival songs, intones a phrase, and the es, and the competition is keen and :citing. At least one member from very family in the canyon strives to art to assure a Havasupai victory; noisy support of the home folk echoes tween the towering red cliffs. Having ually bred to the saddle, the Hava hard to beat (Plate VI). eluctance I mounted my horse one and started back up the 14-mile trail p. nes whistled and shouted to get the ;es up the last mile and a half, a rise sand feet, on the Topocoba Trail. At idated barns we stopped, unloaded, town for a quick lunch which I had before leaving the canyon. ere anything you'd like me to send ? Something you need badly?" I m. your pants, thank you very much," eyeing my Navy khakis. Shouting happily at the pack horses I watched him disappear down the trousers and shirt neatly tied to the is saddle!