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Garima Soni - words world

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“Other times they played some of their own games such as 'going to see the coyote' or ban-madr-che_gio as the Pimas called it. The game was played by very young Pima Indian children. A group of children line up in a single file with hands holding on to the one in front and marching towards another, usually a boy, lying down pretending to be asleep away from the crowd. When they reach the place where the boy is lying asleep, they march around him singing, alha, alha. When they have marched four times around him, the leader pokes the sleeping boy in the ribs and he jumps up and tries to catch one of the children in the line. The business of the leader of the lines is to prevent the coyote from catching one of the children. The coyote and the leader struggle while the line of children sways back and forth to keep from being caught. When the coyote grabs one of the children he runs off with him or her and that means he is supposed to have eaten him or her up. When he comes back, another coyote is lying asleep and the game is played over again. The first one caught by the coyote will be the next in turn to lie asleep as the coyote. We played this game when I was a boy, but the game is not any longer played among the Pima children. Now they play 'London Bridge is Falling Down.' Sometimes a toka contest is held between two villages. Toka is played only by the women. It is like hockey. Sticks about six feet long were used to throw a pair of small wooden balls tied together about three inches apart with a string of raw-hide. A team is ten or more women on each side. They pick up the set of balls with the end of the stick and toss it as far as they can. Another on that team will toss it again if she can, and run after her toss, until she gets it over the goal line. The playing field is a hundred steps long and fifty steps wide. When an argument arises they often use the sticks to settle it. [page 42, Pima Games]”

“The ruins of Chief Azul's house can still be seen to the right as your enter the town of Sacaton from the north--a two story structure with the roof fallen in. In front, across the road to the south is a monument which was put up in memory of the first Indian killed in World War One who was a Pima Indian from our tribe. [page 51, Progress]”

“So Janie waited a bloom time, and a green time and an orange time. But when the pollen again gilded the sun and sifted down on the world she began to stand around the gate and expect things. What things? She didn't know exactly. Her breath was gusty and short. She knew things that nobody had ever told her. For instance, the words of the trees and the wind. She often spoke to falling seeds and said, 'Ah hope you fall on soft ground,' because she had heard seeds saying that to each other as they passed. She knew the world was a stallion rolling in the blue pasture of ether. She knew that God tore down the old world every evening and built a new one by sun-up. It was wonderful to see it take form with the sun and emerge from the gray dust of its making. The familiar people and things had failed her so she hung over the gate and looked up the road towards way off. She knew now that marriage did not make love. Janie's first dream was dead, so she became a woman.”