under the influence of a narcotic; whether this was so or not we had no means of knowing. These old men sat on the floor with bahoos of feathers in their hands. When a snake attempted to move away from the wall the old men, with a snake-like motion, moved up to it and drove it back. These old men acted like snakes. At one corner of the altar in the estufa there were two earthen jars, one containing water, the other meal; in the middle of the outer gray band was a portion of an abalone shell, and in the center of the red band was a number of stone objects. We left this estufa after half an hour's visit and visited another one, and found therein only one person, an old man at work; here we found another altar about the same size as the one before described, but different in design and color; the center was a gray ground, the upper portion of which had a series of circles running together and colored yellow, green, red, and white; these represent clouds from which are coming four snakes, representing lightning, yellow, green, red, and white. This center is surrounded by four bands of color, the same as snakes and clouds, as three sides of this square are. As in the altar before described, there were small sticks stuck into balls of mud and surmounted by corn, feathers, and the down of eagles or turkeys dyed a bright red. This was surrounded by a broad band of gray color; in the center and upper portion of this band were four stone implements, hammers and axes. Behind the altar was some freshly cut corn, and near it were some pipes and stone implements in a pile. One of the pipes was of

stone and resembled a large cigar holder. Running around three sides was a number of stone implements. In front of the altar was also a pile of green corn. We went again in the afternoon, from 1 to 2, to the estufa where the snakes were kept, which is called, Captain Bourke informs me, 'Estufa of the Eagle Gens.' We found that the altar had been destroyed, and in its place on the spot was a bowl containing a medicine or decoction, which Bourke uncovered and tasted. We found a large number of men and boys painting and dressing themselves for the dance. There were two old men reclining on the floor keeping the snakes in order. All the business of preparation was carried on in silence, no noise or confusion of any kind; not a word was spoken. The room was now crowded with old and young, making ready for the dance by painting their bodies, faces, and arranging the ornaments they were to wear. At this time the old men, the guardians of the snakes, began to put the snakes into bags of cotton and buckskin, and as they were filled they were carried to the 'Estufa of the Rabbit Gens. We were here notified that we had better go out and get seats, as the dance would soon begin. We took a station on the second story of a house beyond the sacred rock. Against a wall running at right angles to the one on which we were seated was a lodge of cottonwood covered with a buffalo hide, called the snake bosky. Captain Bourke's account of the dance is complete and exact, and is identical with my account as to facts.

"There were no fires, sacred or otherwise, or even smoke in any of the estufas during our visit, nor any evidence that there had recently been any fire. We had exceptional facilities for seeing the dance, and there were few if any visitors besides Captain Bourke, our two men, Mr. Keam and Mr. Steven, and myself. I am also of the opinion that none of our party, resident or otherwise, had ever seen the snake dance before, and that probably we were the first white men who ever visited the estufas during the Moqui (Walpi) snake dance. The Moquis were not greatly pleased, but the presence of Captain Bourke with the two soldiers and the ambulance with 'U. S.' on it were potent. Captain Bourke, if he was not in fact, always appeared to be exactly the best friend of each and every Indian whom he had met; at least he seemed to convince the Indian that it was so, and so we were made welcome. Without Captain Bourke we never would have been permitted to enter the sacred estufa. Under his lead we went down the ladders and stayed. Of course we could not speak to the Indians, as not one Indian of the entire Moqui pueblos could speak English, and the only attempt made was by one man at Tewa, who could say 'one dollar.'

"On the morning of the dance, the snakes, more than a hundred in number, were kept close to the sides or walls of the estufa by the old men with the bahoos. I tried to buy a bahoo of one of these attendants, but he declined to sell it, saying that if he did his stomach would burst open. I am convinced that the snakes were not

doctored, neither was their poison exhausted by letting them strike a board or other object.

"During the dance, between 4 and 5 p. m., a rattlesnake struck one of the dancers on the right ear and held on. The antelope man became frightened and ran away. The dancer, becoming angry, grabbed the snake, which was a large one, tore it from his ear and threw it on the ground, but the bitten ear did not swell. The snake, thus released, coiled and struck at a Navajo, who was standing near the edge of the mesa, which so frightened the man that he drew back and ran off, and the snake bounded back of the sacred rock and got among some Indian women, who were mortally afraid and ran away in fright; then he escaped. If the snake had been doctored, and was not venomous, they would not have been afraid of it.

"I also observed in the dance that as each snake dancer passed around the sacred rock he threw the snake from his mouth by a quick jerk of his head to the right into the space in front of the bosky, where the antelope men took charge of it. Then he took a fresh snake from the bosky and danced around again, and so on." (It will be noted that in the account by Mr. Scott in 1891, the snake dancers kept the snakes they first received and danced with them until the end. In 1891 there was no change of snakes by the dancers at each round.)

In "Some Strange Corners of Our Country," 1892, Charles F. Lummis gives the following account of the snake dance of 1891, at which he was present:

"The Pueblos often protect in their houses an esteemed and harmless serpent, about five or six feet long, as a mouse trap, and these quiet mousers keep down the little pests much more effectively than a cat, for they can follow sheeid-deh to the ultimate corner of his hole. But while all snakes are to be treated well, the Pueblo holds the rattlesnake actually sacred. It is, except the pichucúate (a real asp), the only venomous reptile in the southwest, and the only one dignified by a place among the 'Trues.' The ch'-ah-rah-ráh-deh (the Tee-wahn name is imitative) resembles the rattling. The Moquis call the rattlesnake chú-ah. It is not really worshipped by the Pueblos, but they believe it one of the sacred animals which are useful to the Trues, and ascribe to it wonderful powers. Up to a generation ago it played in the marvellous and difficult superstitions of this people a much more important part than it does now, and every Pueblo town used to maintain a huge rattlesnake, which was kept in a sacred room, and with great solemnity fed once a year. My own Pueblo of Isleta used to support a sacred rattler in the volcanic caves of the Cerro del Aira (hill of the wind), but it escaped five years ago, and the patient search of the officials failed to recover it. Very truthful old men here have told me that it was nearly as large around as my body, and I can believe it with just a little allowance, for I have seen one here as large as the thickest part of my leg.

"There are many gruesome stories of human sacrifices to these snakes, the commonest being that a baby was chosen by lot from the pueblo