hers to see that none get away. In a little while the
priests take the snakes down on the desert and set them free, sending
them north, south, east, and west, where it is supposed they will take
the people's prayers for rain to the water serpent in the underworld,
who is in some way connected with the god of the rain-clouds.

It was a strange experience, that night in Walpi: the primitive
accommodations; the picturesque, uncivilized people; the shy glances
from dark, eager eyes. To watch two girls grinding corn between two
stones, and a little farther off their mother rolling out her dough with
an ear of corn, and cooking over an open fire, her pot slung from a
crude crane over the blaze--it was all too unreal to be true.

But the most interesting thing about it was to watch the "Aneshodi"
going about among them, his face alight with warm, human love; his
hearty laugh ringing out in a joke that the Hopis seemed to understand,
making himself one with them. It came to Margaret suddenly to remember
the pompous little figure of the Rev. Frederick West, and to fancy him
going about among these people and trying to do them good. Before she
knew what she was doing she laughed aloud at the thought. Then, of
course, she had to explain to Bud and Gardley, who looked at her
inquiringly.

"Aw! Gee! _Him?_ _He_ wasn't a minister! He was a _mistake_! Fergit him,
the poor simp!" growled Bud, sympathetically. Then his eyes softened as
he watched Brownleigh playing with three little Indian maids, having a
fine romp. "Gee! he certainly is a peach, isn't he?" he murmured, his
whole face kindling appreciatively. "Gee! I bet that kid never forgets
that!"

The Sunday was a wonderful day, when the missionary gathered the people
together and spoke to them in simple words of God--their god who made
the sky, the stars, the mountains, and the sun, whom they call by
different names, but whom He called God. He spoke of the Book of Heaven
that told about God and His great love for men, so great that He sent
His son to save them from their sin. It was not a long sermon, but a
very beautiful one; and, listening to the simple, wonderful words of
life that fell from the missionary's earnest lips and were translated by
his faithful Indian interpreter, who always went with him on his
expeditions, watching the faces of the dark, strange people as they
took in the marvelous meaning, the little company of visitors was
strangely moved. Even Bud, awed beyo