on. Mr. Smith chaperoned one group of them on their tour
through the Hopi House. In the sand painting of the kiva they seemed to
find something that particularly interested them. They put their heads
together, talking in undertones and pointing--so Smith said--first at
one design and then at another. An old Hopi buck, a priest of the
Antelope clan, was lounging in the low doorway watching them. What the
Shriners said to one another could have had no significance for him,
even admitting that he heard them, for he did not understand a word of
English; but suddenly he reached forth a withered hand and plucked Smith
by the sleeve. I am letting Smith tell the rest of the tale just as he
told it to us:

"The Hopi pointed to one of the Shriners, an elderly man who came, I
think, from somewhere in Illinois, and in his own tongue he said to me:
'That man with the white hair is a Hopi--and he is a member of my clan!'
I said to him: 'You speak foolishness--that man comes from the East and
never until to-day saw a Hopi in his whole life!' The medicine man
showed more excitement than I ever saw an Indian show.

"'You are lying to me!' he said. 'That white-haired man is a Hopi, or
else his people long ago were Hopis.' I laughed at him and that ruffled
his dignity and he turned away, and I couldn't get another word out of
him.

"As the Shriners were passing out I halted the white-haired man and said
to him: 'The Hopi medicine man insists that you are a Hopi and that you
know something about his clan.' 'Well,' he said, 'I'm no Hopi; but I
think I do know something about some of the things he seems to revere.
Where is this medicine man?'

"I pointed to where the old Indian was squatted in a corner, sulking; he
walked right over to him and motioned to him, and the Hopi got up and
they went into the kiva together. I do not know what passed between
them--certainly no words passed--but in about ten minutes the Shriner
came out, and he had a puzzled look on his face.

"'I've just had the most wonderful experience,' he said to me, 'that
I've ever had in my whole life. Of course that Indian isn't a Mason, but
in a corrupted form he knows something about Masonry; and where he
learned it I can't guess. Why, there are lodges in this country where I
actually believe he could work his way in.'"

Not being either a Mason or a Hopi, I cannot undertake to vouch for the
story or to contradict it; but Smith has the reputation of being a
truthful