Hopi Snake Dance

Extract from the book "A Lasting Legacy" by Otho R. Stubbs, p. 29-30

The snake dance symbolizes their desire for rain and a bountiful harvest. To the Hopi, the snake moves in the darkness of the underworld and communicates with the gods. There is an awesome respect for the rattlesnake, a respected brother to be revered, not feared. "Dancing", they believe, brings the snakes pleasure. They are then released back onto the desert, to convey their prayers for rain. [...] Only the pure in mind and heart can dance successfully without being bitten by the sacred snake in his mouth. [...] The ceremony takes place in mid August every two years during a full moon, the exact time is determined by the sunrise position.

As I approached the plaza, I saw red chiles and bunches of Indian corn, tied with white fluffy Eagle feathers, hanging by the shuck from the vegas of their three and four story home. People were sitting on house tops and standing in doorways. The women had black jackets draped over their right shoulder, the left harm being free to work. Their hair was held in a bun at the back of their head and tied with a white cloth. The Hopi men wore shirts, silver concho belts, moccasins, and a band around their head. Babies were tied in papooses and never cried. [...] Next, the Snake Priests lined up and entered the plaza with lively steps. Their faces were painted black with white streaks, resembling lightning in the darkness. Tortoise shells rattled around their right knees above the leggings as they stepped. Abalone shell and turquoise beads hung around each neck. Pelts of fox or coyote were suspended from the waists of their white, short, buckskin skirts. Each dancer had a different painting on their skirt symbolizing lightning. Their bodies were painted gray with white zigzag lines down their arms, chest, and shoulders. Most of their hands were painted white. In their long black hair was red feathers. They circled the kishka slowly, stamping their feet at the entrance.

[...] Corn Maidens in black hand-woven dresses came into the plaza one at a time and stood opposite the antelope chorus. They sprinkled cornmeal on the shoulders of the snake Men from flat-woven baskets. [...] Paired with each dancer, a Hugger stopped before the kishka and brought out handfuls of squirming, wriggling rattlers, and gave them to each dancer who put them in their mouth. The Hugger carried an Eagle's feather "snake whip" in his hand, gently coaxing the hissing heads of the serpents with its light touch. If a snake became restless, a brush with the wand made him docile. Bodies of the snakes hung limply and obediently from the withe teeth of the Snake Men, jerking with the rhythm of the dance steps.

[...] Once danced, the snake was given to the Antelope Priest who holds them until all were danced. Clouds began to form overhead. Stronger and faster the drums beat. Corn Maidens darted among the dancers, making a big circle of cornmeal on the ground. The snakes were placed inside this circle. Once the snake had crawled out of the circle, the "Gatherer" grabbed him and ran to one of the four exits of the plaza and let them loose onto the desert to communicate with the gods.

The ceremony lasted only half a hour. The crowd dispersed. That night came down a pour. In my painting you can see the clouds rolling in and the things I have told you. Whether or not the snake dance had anything to do with the rain, I have no idea. It could be they are very good weather forecasters.