John Adams High School - Clipper Yearbook (Ozone Park, NY)

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DESERT DANCES X BY ROBERT M. SEELE 111 ll' 4 I N rizona, as few people know, is given nearly one quarter to Indian reservations. Here abide the most picturesque and the most clever Indians in America, of which the Hopi easily take the lead. An inexperienced traveler in Hopi-land will probably find it a hot, dull, and worthless journey. For a three-hour drive in boiling- hot sun just to witness a tribe of Indians in their daily domestic tasks, is hardly worth while. An experienced traveler who has heard or read something about them will wait for a day on which some im- portant event takes place, before taking the trip, and even then will start at dawn. The former will probably gather the impression that the Hopis are a lazy, shiftless, carefree tribe of Indians. The latter will be greatly impressed, and will marvel at the craftsmanship and artistic ability that he will see. The Hopi Indians are closely related to their better-known neighbors, the Navajos. The Navajos are known the world over for their gaudily colored blankets, yet it was the Hopi who first manu- factured the dyes, and who first endeavored to represent the zig-zag lightning flashes on their blankets. The Hopi spends his time in molding and painting beautiful pottery. Some of the poorer pieces of pottery are sold to the Great American Tourist at exorbitant prices, while the better and really more beautiful pieces are kept for tribal celebrations. A more striking difference between the Hopis and the Navajos is their dances. The Hopi dances are far more picturesque and colorful than those of any of their neighbors. Before every dance, certain men of the tribe are picked by the priest, or medicine man, to portray the part of certain gods, whose favor is to be evoked by the forthcoming dances. 'VI-il?-1IL-ll'l'l.-ldll

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I'm an accountant. Did you ever meet, or did you know the deceased before seeing him here tonight? I, er, that is, I- Come to the point man, did you know Eric Lansing? Yes, I did know him. That is all, Windsor. A half hour later, Barrett stood in the drawing room and faced the group which had been assembled. Now, go to the places you were in, just before Mr. Lansing collapsed, he ordered. Must we go through this horrible thing again, Mr. Barrett? Mrs. Rogers asked. Yes, I think I made myself clear, Barrett snapped. With some confusion the guests reassumed their former places. Barrett paced the floor, thinking hard. Now, listen! I am speaking to each and everyone of you. Murder has been committed here tonight, and I have every reason to think the murderer is right here in this r-oom. And I mean to find out who he or she is, he said, glaring at the faces. But Mr. Barrett, you can't possibly mean what you've just said. I won't have my guests insulted. I'd rather find the murderer than worry about insults, Mrs. Rogers, he said sarcastically. But tongues like Mrs. Rogers' were never meant to be silent. She ventured once more. Mr, Barrett, couldn't we have some en- tertainment while we are waiting? A' horrified whisper of disapproval swept the room. Sure we'll have entertainment. How about some music? Music, they all echoed. Dismay was registered on all their faces. Yes, I said music. By the way does anyone here play any kind of a musical instrument? Oh, Mr. Barrett, Mr. Windsor can play the violin beautifully. A violin, reflected Barrett, now that might lead somewhere. Put them all under the same circumstances again. The guilty one fPlea.re turn to Page 895 lO l I---lE- CIL..-lI'l'L..le

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