The Hohokam Dig

Home > Historical > The Hohokam Dig > Page 1
The Hohokam Dig Page 1

by Theodore Pratt




  Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  _From_ where _had these attacking Indians come? Out of a long forgotten and dim past? Had their medicine man seen the one supreme vision?_

  the hohokam dig

  _by ... Theodore Pratt_

  At first they thought the attack was a joke. And then they realized the truth!

  At first the two scientists thought the Indian attack on them was a jokeperpetrated by some of their friends. After all, modern Indians did notattack white men any more.

  Except that these did.

  George Arthbut and Sidney Hunt were both out of New York, on the staffof the Natural History Museum. George was an ethnologist who specializedin what could be reconstructed about the prehistoric Indians of NorthAmerica, with emphasis on those of the Southwest. He was a tall, lean,gracious bald man in his early sixties.

  Sidney was an archeologist who was fascinated by the ruins of the samekind of ancient Indians. Medium-sized, with black hair that belied hissixty-five years, he and George made an excellent team, being theleaders in their field.

  They had come west on a particular bit of business this spring, tryingto solve the largest question that remained about the old cliff dwellersand the prehistoric desert Indians, both of whom had deserted theirvillages and gone elsewhere for reasons that remained a mystery.

  One theory was that drought had driven them both away. Another theoryran to the effect that enemies wiped them out or made off with them ascaptives. Still another supposition, at least for the Hohokam desertpeople, the builders of Casa Grande whose impressive ruins still stoodnear Coolidge, had to do with their land giving out so they could nolonger grow crops, forcing them to go elsewhere to find better soil.

  No one really knew. It was all pure guesswork.

  * * * * *

  The two scientists meant to spend the entire summer trying to solve thisriddle for all time, concentrating on it to the exclusion of everythingelse. They drove west in a station wagon stuffed with equipment andtracking a U-Haul-It packed with more.

  George drove, on a road that was only two sand tracks across the wildempty desert between Casa Grande Monument and Tonto National Monumentwhere cliff dwellers had lived. It was here, not far ahead, in new ruinsthat were being excavated, that they hoped to solve the secret of theexodus of the prehistoric Indians. The place was known as the HohokamDig.

  They topped a rise of ground and came to the site of the dig. Here thesand tracks ended right in the middle of long trenches dug out to revealthick adobe walls. In the partially bared ruins the outline of a smallvillage could be seen; the detailed excavation would be done this summerby workmen who would arrive from Phoenix and Tucson.

  George stopped their caravan and the two men got out, stretching theirlegs. They looked about, both more interested in the dig, now they wereback at it, than setting up camp. They walked around, examining variousparts of it, and the excitement of the promise of things to bediscovered in the earth came to them. "This summer we'll learn theanswer," Sidney predicted.

  With skeptical hope George replied, "Maybe."

  It was early afternoon when they set up camp, getting out their tentfrom the U-Haul-It. They took out most of their gear, even setting up aportable TV set run on batteries brought along. They worked efficientlyand rapidly, having done this many times before and having theirequipment well organized from long experience. By the middle of theafternoon all was ready and they rested, sitting on folding chairs at asmall table just outside the opening of their tent.

  Looking around at the dig Sidney remarked, "Wouldn't it be easy if wecould talk to some of the people who once lived here?"

  "There's a few questions I'd like to ask them," said George. "Icertainly wish we had some to talk with."

  He had no more than uttered this casual wish than there sounded, fromall sides of where they sat, screeching whoops. The naked brown men whosuddenly appeared seemed to materialize from right out of theexcavations. As they yelled they raised their weapons. The air wasfilled, for an instant, with what looked like long arrows. Most of themwhistled harmlessly past the two scientists, but one hit the side of thestation wagon, making a resounding thump and leaving a deep dent, whiletwo buried themselves in the wood of the U-Haul-It and remained there,quivering.

  George and Sidney, after the shock of their first surprise at thisattack, leaped to their feet.

  "The car!" cried Sidney. "Let's get out of here!"

  They both started to move. Then George stopped and grabbed Sidney's arm."Wait!"

  "Wait?" Sidney demanded. "They'll kill us!"

  "Look," advised George, indicating the red men who surrounded them; theynow made no further move of attack.

  George gazed about. "Oh," he said, "you think somebody's playing a jokeon us?"

  "Could be," said George. He ran one hand over his bald head.

  "Some dear friends," Sidney went on, resenting the scare that had beenthrown into them, "hired some Indians to pretend to attack us?"

  "Maybe Pimas," said George. He peered at the Indians, who now werejabbering among themselves and making lamenting sounds as they glancedabout at the ruins of the ancient village. There were eighteen of them.They were clad in nothing more than a curious cloth of some kind runbetween their legs and up and over a cord about their waists, to form ashort apron, front and back.

  "Or Zunis," said Sidney.

  "Maybe Maricopas," said George.

  "Except," Sidney observed, "none of them look like those kind ofIndians. And those arrows they shot." He stared at the two sticking inthe U-Haul-It. "Those aren't arrows, George--they're atlatl lances!"

  "Yes," said George.

  Sidney breathed, "They aren't holding bows--they've got atlatls!"

  "No modern Indian of any kind," said George, "uses an atlatl."

  "Most of them wouldn't even know what it was," Sidney agreed. "Theyhaven't been used for hundreds of years; the only place you see them isin museums."

  An atlatl was the weapon which had replaced the stone axe in the stoneage. It was a throwing stick consisting of two parts. One was the lance,a feathered shaft up to four feet long, tipped with a stone point. Thetwo-foot flat stick that went with this had a slot in one end and tworawhide finger loops. The lance end was fitted in the slot to be thrown.The stick was an extension of the human arm to give the lance greaterforce. Some atlatls had small charm stones attached to them to givethem extra weight and magic.

  Charm stones could be seen fastened to a few of the atlatls being heldby the Indians now standing like bronze statues regarding them.

  George whispered, "What do you make of it?"

  "It isn't any joke," replied Sidney. He gazed tensely at the Indians."That's all I'm sure of."

  "Have you noticed their breechclouts?"

  Sidney stared again. "They aren't modern clouts. George, they're rightout of Hohokam culture!"

  "They aren't made of cloth, either. That's plaited yucca fibre."

  "Just like we've dug up many times. Only here ..." George faltered."It's being worn by--by I don't know what."

  "Look at their ornaments."

  Necklaces, made of pierced colored stones, hung about many of the brownnecks. Shell bracelets were to be seen, and here and there a carvedpiece of turquoise appeared.

  "Look at the Indian over there," George urged.

  Sidney looked to the side where George indicated, and croaked, "It's agirl!"

  It was a girl indeed. She stood straight and magnificent in bodycompletely bare except for the brief apron at her loins. Between herbeautiful full copper breasts there hung a gleaming piece of turquoisecarved in the shape of a coyote.

&nbs
p; At her side stood a tall young Indian with a handsome face set withgreat pride. On her other side was a wizened little old fellow with awrinkled face and ribs corrugated like a saguaro.

  Sidney turned back and demanded, "What do you make of this? Are weseeing things?" Hopefully, he suggested, "A mirage or sort of a mutualhallucination?"

  In a considered, gauging tone George replied, "They're real."

  "Real?" cried Sidney. "What do you mean, real?"

  "Real in a way. I mean, Sidney, these--I sound crazy to myself sayingit--but I think these are--well, Sid, maybe they're actual prehistoricIndians."

  "Huh?"

  "Well, let's put it this way: We asked

‹ Prev