Indians of North America -- Colorado; Mesa Verde National Park (Colo.)
In February the snows become heavy and wet and in the latter part of the
month there is rain. Even though the rain does not come into the cave
everything becomes damp. The days are getting warmer now and as a result
a foul odor hangs over the city.
At any time of the year a strong odor of decaying animal and vegetable
matter and human offal fills the cave. Out in front is the great trash
pile and in the rear is the trash room where the turkeys roost and where
some of the dead are buried. In addition to this, the people have no
idea of personal sanitation. In the warmer seasons they usually step
outside the cave but in the winter they merely step back into the turkey
roost or out on the front terraces.
Because of this there is always a heavy odor about the city. In the
summer it is not so bad for the women often sweep out the houses and
courts and throw the trash out in front of the cave where the hot sun
drys out the waste materials. In the winter there is less of this
cleaning and the trash and filth accumulate. The dampness in the air
causes mould and mustiness and when the warm wet days of late winter
come the air is foul with the odor of decaying matter.
The people do not notice this odor. Their first breath of life was like
that and they merely think it is the way air smells.
As the end of winter draws near the cold grows less intense. There are
still occasional snowstorms but they are warm and wet and melt rapidly.
The mesas are soggy with mud and small streams of water trickle over the
cliffs as the snow disappears. The air is warm and balmy: during the
middle of the day it is often hot. Grass turns green in the sheltered
spots and the buds on the shrubs begin to swell. Chipmunks and squirrels
come out of hibernation to greet the spring.
The people of Cliff Palace have been noting all of these signs and there
is a stir of activity in the city as they throw off the cloak of winter.
It was this promise of spring that helped them through. Sometimes they
have been cold and there has been sickness and death. At times there has
been a heavy pall of sadness over the city. Now all that is over for
spring is in the air.
The people are happy and smiling as they bustle about preparing for the
work that is ahead. The men think of their farms, the women think of
making pottery, repairing and building houses, and arranging marriages.
The children, turkeys and dogs think of nothing: they merely dash out of
the shadowy cave into the warm spring sunshine.
Our year with the people of Cliff Palace has ended. Spring, summer,
autumn and winter have passed. Now spring has arrived to start the
eternal cycle all over again.
8
THE END OF THE STORY
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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