nce. He told me to bear in mind that water is the very
breath of life to the desert dwellers, and that while his people did not
like to oppose the agents placed there by the Government they certainly
intended to continue their dance.

We loaded the flivver with food and water, since we knew our welcome
would be a shade warmer if we did not draw on the meager water supply in
the Reservation. We dropped down to Flagstaff, and there on every street
corner and in every store and hotel the Hopi Snake Dance was the main
subject of conversation. It seemed that everybody was going!

We left the main road there and swung off across the desert for the Hopi
villages, built high on rocky mesas overlooking the surrounding country.
It was delightful during the morning coolness, but all too soon the sun
enveloped us. We met two or three Navajo men on their tough little
ponies, but they were sullen and refused to answer my waves to them.
While we repaired a puncture, a tiny Navajo girl in her full calico
skirt and small velvet basque drove her flock of sheep near and shyly
watched us. I offered her an apple and she shied away like a timid
deer. But candy was too alluring. She crept closer and closer, and then
I got sorry for her and placed it on a rock and turned my back. She lost
no time in grabbing the sweet and darting back to her flock.

The road was badly broken up with coulees and dry washes that a heavy
rain would turn into embryo Colorados. I found myself hoping that the
Snake Dance prayer for rain would not "take" until we were safely back
over this road.

Evening found us encamped at the foot of the high mesa upon which was
built the Hopi village where the dance would be held this year. Close
beside was the water hole that furnished the population with a scant
supply. It was a sullen, dripping, seeping spring that had nothing in
common with our gushing, singing springs of the Southern mountains. The
water was caught in a scooped-out place under the cliff, crudely walled
in with stones to keep animals away. Some stray cattle, however, had
passed the barrier and perished there, for their bones protruded from
the soft earth surrounding the pool. It was not an appetizing sight.
Rude steps were cut in the rocky trail leading to the pueblo dwellings
above two miles away, from whence came the squaws with big ollas to
carry the water. This spring was the gossiping ground for all the female
members of the mesa. They met there and l