Evening star., 1926-11-07

| the end. small martyr to his faith.
and to the need of rain that his people
might live on.
| They do not die. The snakes are
not tampered with beforehand. The
| truth seems to be that the Hopi have
an antidote, administered not before
but after the fact.
In three days" said the Indian
policeman calmly, "the boy is all right
again.
But there is humor at the snake
dance. Plenty Of ii. It comes be-
tween the moment when the car
rier" priest drops the snake on the
ground. and before the "gatherer''
priest has picked It up.
In that moment the snake has but
one idea and that is fight. With in
credible rapidity. 1t launches itself
toward the human ring and who is
there in that ring to say 1t nay? So
far as our audience was concerned.
| it could go as far as IL wanted.
And-I may he mistaken--but was
there not a slight twitch about the
mouths of those "Ratherer" priests
when they allowed the snakes to
reach the very feet OF that stamped
ing crowd before they swoOped down
and picked them up? A faint twinkle
about the eyes?
At last. all the snakes are out of
the kisi. and now lie in twisting,
hideous heap on the ground. The
mass is sprinkled with sacred meal:
the chief priest prays. and then
Happening to look away. I saw Bill
leaving the plaza. On hearing run
ming steps behind him. Bill stopped,
and turned, to stand petrified. And
we'll he might. for almost on him was
priest, his arms full Of snakes. and
running as only a Hopi can run.
Bill stood. however, but an instant.
The narrow way was choked with
cars. SO Bill ran, too. and he took
two leaps to the priests one. and 8
few extra. For hours after, Bill was
a chastened man.
The reason for Rill's Contretemps
was simple. for. the ceremony over.
the snake priests catch up armfuls of
snakes and run like deer to the plain
below the mesa. There they rev
erently deposit the snakes. pray over
them, and leave them there, TO carry
the supplication for rain to the gods
of the underworld.
IOF the ceremony. Of. publication
that follows the dance. l cannot
speak with authority. Il carried away
with me a sense of the essential dig
nifty of religious ritual. however primi-
tive, of custom sanctifed by an
tiquity, OF faith and its undying quail
ity. l wished no anti-climax.
Impressive, barbaric, and in its
primitive surroundings the snake
dance takes the civilized onlooker and
carries him back to those early days
Of the world when his savage fore
bears worshiped nature as their god.
1t is sometimes horrible. but never
grotesque. And it is worth long
journey to see.
During the dance a high wind had
been blowing. When we returned to
the camp we found that there had
been a sand storm. The cook tent
had blown down. Sand was over
everything and In everything: beside
the ruins Of the tent, a depressed
Jimmy and his Indian helper were
washing in our scant supply of water,
the sand from the dishes and out OF
the supper. There was sand in my
bedding, in my spare boots, in my
hairbrush and Toothbrush, in my cold
cream and my soap.
Since that time | have wondered
about those idyls Of the desert. those
travels of lovers In camel caravans.
Was the lady always beautiful and
amiable, with sand down her neck
and in her powder hox? Was her
lover always above such trifies as the
sugar bowl contents looking Hike
ground pepper? Did neither Of them
ever sit on a cactus plant, or feel the
need of a daily bath?
Copyright 1921