in the ground, but in a crevice of rock
somewhere near the mother's home and covered with stones. A string is
left hanging out, pointing to the home of the family. The spirit of the
child is believed to return and to be re-born in the next child born in
the family, or to linger about till the mother dies and then to go with
her to the underworld.

If the adult spirit has led a good life, it goes to the abode where the
ancestral spirits feast and hold ceremonies as on earth, but if evil it
must be tried by fire and, if too bad for purification, it is
destroyed.

XI. STORIES TOLD TODAY

* * * * *

Fewkes, Stephen, Mindeleff, Voth, and others have collected the more
important tales of migrations and the major myths underlying both
religion and social organization among the Hopi. One gets substantially
the same versions today from the oldest story-tellers. These are the
stories that never grow old; in the kiva and at the fireside they live
on, for these are the vital things on which Hopi life is built.

However, there is a lighter side, of which we have heard less, to this
unwritten literature of the Hopi people. These are the stories for
entertainment, so dear to the hearts of young and old alike. Even these
stories are old, some of them handed down for generations. And they
range from the historical tale, the love story, and the tale of
adventure to the bugaboo story and the fable. Space permits only a few
stories here.

No writing of these can equal the art of the Hopi story-teller, for the
story is told with animation and with the zest that may inspire the
narrator who looks into the faces of eager listeners.

The Hopi story-teller more or less dramatizes his story, often breaking
into song or a few dance steps or mimicking his characters in voice and
facial expression. Sometimes the writer has been so intrigued with the
performance she could scarcely wait for her interpreter (See Figure 13)
to let her into the secret. Often the neighbors gathered round to hear
the story, young and old alike, and they are good listeners. All of
these stories save one, that of Don, of Oraibi, were told in the Hopi
language, but having a Hopi friend as an interpreter has preserved, we
think, the native flavor of the stories.

The first story, as told by Sackongsie, of Bacabi, is a legend
concerning the adventure of the son of the chief of Huckovi, a
prehistoric Hopi village whose ruins are p