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freak of Nature in the way of an earth erosion that I would willingly drive miles to see, and Owen Wister's castle is a delightful spot to me. Del Mar is full of surprises and the climate, the wonderful wild flowers, and the queer freaks which old Dame Nature has prepared for our entertainment, will keep me happy for some time to come.

"Have you girls walked up to the picturesque old ruins near the school house, and have you seen the natural gargoyle which I photographed in the canyon?

"And have you listened to the music of the wind-harp in the fantastic pine tree? Mrs. S, who has lived in the Swiss Alps, tells me they are not more picturesque than the Pine Hills

and the Big Canyon.

"Then the introduced features of the landscape are invariably good and I find fascinating little nooks every day, while the 'Fairy Staircase' that leads. up to 'Happy Mine' has filled my heart with happiness every time I have climbed it, and when I sit and listen to the song of the wind in the pine tree harp I am indeed glad to be here in this lovely land, which to you girls. is full of yesterdays, but to me means a glad to-morrow."

"Then," said the Lady of the Land," "it is settled that we stay another week

and to-morrow I shall drive out to the old burying ground of the Dieguino Indians, and lay another flower at the shrine of Santa Ysabel."

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Trotters,

By May M. Longembaugh

Cushman Indian School

HINK! Think hard, ye worldtrotters, sensation-seekers, artists, ethnologists! Who

are

the most interesting living people, what the weirdest rite performed in the world of to-day? Surely your unanimous reply is, the Mokis and their Snake Dance. Mokis? Query the stay at homes, in Cambodia, Zambesi, the South Sea? No, in our own progressive United States, where we, departers from all tradition, may witness, in August, the rite which for

more than a thousand years has been annually performed, unchanged in the slightest detail. "As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be." The very method of establishing the date, which is twenty-one days after the sun strikes Corn Rock at such an angle, is unique, being cried by the Moki herald at seven o'clock in the morning throughout the pueblo, and then computed with never a mistake by the seven beef ribs, which are part of the paraphernalia of the chief. These

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bones are highly polished by years of calendar use. The Czar of all the Russias is not so autocratic as this Moki chief, and the laws-that is, the customs-prescribed to an iota, are as unchangeable as those of the Medes and Persians. Yet the Mokis are among the happiest, most contented people in the world, and their organization so remarkable that a very brilliant woman, Barbara Frere Marreco, of the Woman's Auxiliay of Oxford University, has been studying it for two years. Not long ago she spent a twelve month with the Mokis, and submitted her thesis to Oxford, where it was adjudged the best and upon the most unusual subject, gaining for her an appointment as professor in ab

sentia, with orders to complete the study of their political economy under salary for two years. At that time there was an awakened interest in many parts of learned Europe in the Mokis and in Indian affairs generally in this country. Now, however, it is war; but the Mokis, as ever uncaring, themselves never conquered, approach again their annual ceremonial prayer for rain, for that is, exactly, what the Snake Dance is.

I have lived for years with the Mokis, witnessed this dance many times, only to feel the spell it casts, bind more strongly. You cannot ride the Painted Desert for three days and be yourself. Preconceived ideas, booklearning, worldliness, to-day, all drop

off like Christian's load with every league of these three days journey into Mokiland.

The Painted Desert is the Land of Enchantment, its exquisite colorings seeming an optical delusion. The limitless, shimmering horizon and magnificent stillness of this mysterious

in

country constrain one to speak whispers lest he break the great silence. Freedom, illimitable space! Forgotten, impossible, that beyond that beyond those blue peaks lie crowded cities, reeking tenements, avarice! So So at last, quite selfless, only an incarnate interest, you reach Chimopovy, one of the seven cities of Cibola, perched on a sand stone rising abruptly six hundred feet out of the desert like the blade of a knife.

Twilight-mystery! Suddenly some one cried: "The Snake Men are coming." All grew silent and respectful as the bronzed figures approached, each carrying a sack of squirming reptiles, the bag of his venturesome day's hunt. The bodies of the snake men were nude, save for the loin cloth. Each man carried a hoe, a small sack of sacred meal and a snake whip, made by tying two feathers to a short, slender stick. This hunt is made by members of the Snake fraternity, and requires four days; one day the search being made to the north, one to the south, one to the east and one to the west. When a snake is discovered, he is addressed as "Elder Brother," and a quantity of sacred meal sprinkled over the body; then by means of the snake whip, he is folded into the snake bag. Ninety of these "Elder Brothers" now reposed in earthen ollas as honored guests in the kiva; for it is through them that communication is established with the rain gods, and only through this medium may Mokis obtain copious rain for their parched fields. The snakes collected for these sinister rites are venomous rattlers, blue racers, arrowheads and occasionally a bull snake, but rattlers always predominate. The profoundest ritualistic importance is attached to every part of the cere

mony. In some respects, it is the most unique sight on this continent to-day, and attracts tourists, scientists, anthropologists and men of letters from all parts of the globe.

The great day of the ceremony approaches, the ninth since the beginning of the celebration; and the snakes are ready for the secret rites which will make them ceremonially pure, previous to their public appearance in the plaza. At one time an aged rattler crawled into the crevice of a snake kiva, leaving only a portion of his nether body exposed to view. Now, as it would have been discourteous to extract him forcibly by the tail, they were obliged to proceed in the ceremony without him, much to their dissatisfaction. This incident, to the superstitious mind of the Moki, was of grave import, and signified to them that in some way they had been remiss in their devotions. The snake washing is performed by the priests, and occurs in the secret recesses of the underground kiva (council hall or lodge room) for the snake men are the highest degree Masons of the Moki. It is, therefore, only from one of their own number that any of these kiva ceremonies can be learned. A former member of the Snake fraternity, now Christianized, states that the snakes are next taken by the priests from the ollas, or large water jars which the reptiles are to replenish, prayers offered, and the heads and bodies are dipped into the water which was previously blessed by the priests, a prehistoric form of holy water. After the bath, they are laid on the sanded floor of the kiva to dry, and all conversation is carried on in whispers while the snakes are unconfined. Immediately after the snake washing, the priests and members of the snake clan bathe their heads.

As the sun nears the horizon, the time for the dramatic climax approaches, and the spectators hasten to the center of the plaza, where the shrine called the kisi is erected. This is made of cottonwood boughs, placed in an upright position like a shock of

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A Snake Chief removing his leather belt on the kiva.

corn or wheat, doubtless in itself a spiritual form of the desired harvest. The spectators mount the ladders to the roofs of the tiers of houses, and a hush falls as the aged priest enters the plaza, carrying a bag of reptiles, which he deposits at the base of the kisi. Then twelve Antelope priests appear, their semi-nude bodies covered with fanciful figures drawn with with white paint. They march to the center of the plaza, chanting a weirdly monotonous strain founded upon three notes of the scale, then to the front of the kisi, stamping in turn on the board placed in front of the booth. This board covers a hole in the earth, dug in order to open communication with the underworld; and on which the participants stamp to inform their ancestral spirits that the ceremony is given as proof of their sincerity and devotion. The Mokis have the old Greek idea of the underworld. They come from it, and after death they return to it, living there. Then the snake priests emerge from the kiva and face the Antelope priests and the setting sun. The two lines of priests sway back and forth, chanting a blood chilling strain in simulation of the

snakes' rattles. Their bodies are decorated with white paint, their chins blackened, and dark brown leather kilts and moccasins are worn. Just below the knees are fastened rattlers of tortoise shell filled with shot. The noise of these rattlers emitted as the priests move about is in imitation of thunder, and the zigzag markings on the body symbolic of lightning. The circuit of the plaza is made four times for the four seasons, and the bearer of the sacred medicine asperses to the cardinal points. Then a loud call is made by the chief snake priest, and a member of the fraternity is summoned from the house top for the perilous task of delivering the snakes to the dancers. Instantly the snake line breaks up into groups of three, composed of carrier, hugger and gatherer. The music becomes wilder now, and the first carrier drops on his knees before the kisi to receive a squirming, clammy reptile, which is placed between his teeth, the head being invariably carried to the left. In a moment the reptile is coiled about his neck, the head inquisitively crawling over his naked shoulders. The hugger walks immediately behind the carrier, with

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