We camped at Mooney Falls that night, so called on account of an
adventurous prospector of that name losing his life by falling over the
ledge there. It took ten months for his comrades to get equipment
together and recover his body, which they buried at the foot of the
falls. This place naturally holds no attraction for our Indian friends,
and we had literally to push them from under our feet. They almost sat
in the campfire, so determined were they to stay near us.

The next day we started to Hilltop, with Big Jim and his squaw with us
as an escort of honor. Jim rode serenely along, while Mary trudged after
on foot.

"Jim," said the Chief, "how is it that you ride and Mary walks?"

Jim's voice was reproachfully astonished that anyone could be so dense:
"Mary, she no got um horse!"

The Indians gathered to see us off. I looked at the faces before me.
Even the babies seemed hopeless and helpless. It is a people looking
backward down the years with no thought of the morrow.

"Can't you get them to be more hopeful or cheerful? Won't they even try
to help themselves?" I asked Wattahomigie in desperation. He sadly shook
his head.

"No help," he said; "plenty for today, maybe no tomorrow."

And maybe he's right. Not many more morrows for that doomed tribe.

[Illustration]

_Chapter X: WHERE THEY DANCE WITH SNAKES_[2]

A few days after our visit to Supai, Ranger Fisk dropped in.

"Going to the Snake Dance?" he asked me.

"What's a Snake Dance, and where is it?"

"Oh, it's over in the Hopi Reservation, and the crazy redskins hop
around with rattlesnakes in their mouths so it'll rain."

"I don't believe _that_. I'm going over and ask Joe about it," I
replied, indignant that Charlie would try to tell me anything so
improbable.

I returned pretty soon from my visit to Joe, who is Chief of the Hopi
Indians. He made his home with the Spencers at the Hopi House, and we
were tried and true friends.

"What did he say?" Both the Chief and Ranger Fisk hurled the question at
me.

"He said rattlesnakes are their brothers and they carry messages to the
rain gods telling them of the need for rain in Hopi land. He didn't want
to tell me much about it. White Mountain, let's go. _Please!_"

So we went. But before we started I managed to gather a little more
information about the yearly ceremony that is held in the Painted Desert
country. Joe told me that the Government at Washington was opposed to
their Snake Da