342 Field Columbian Museum — Anthropology, Vol. III. 



time, have I seen even the most experienced member of the Fraternity 

 try to take a snake when the reptile was entirely coiled up. They 

 seem to be convinced, and in fact have told me, that a rattlesnake 

 does not strike unless entirely coiled up or at least nearly so. If a 

 snake does coil up it is invariably first induced to uncoil by waving 

 the snake whip over it. 



But return we now to the bathing of the snakes. One has fol- 

 lowed the other until all have gone through the two baths and been 

 placed on the sand field. When the snakes see that they cannot 

 escape they finally pile up in the corner on the floor and on the ban- 

 quette (see PI. 19s), enjoying the sunshine that falls on those places 

 through the hatchway just at that time. Occasionally one tries to 

 escape, especially the racers, but usually one or two boys, who are left 

 in charge, can manage them. When the washing is completed, the 

 three men who handled the snakes carefully wash their hands and 

 then the chief priest and one or two others usually utter a brief prayer, 

 whereupon all seat themselves around the fireplace and smoke, 

 exchanging terms of relationship. The snakes are left in charge of 

 one or two of the small boys. In 1896 little Hoveima, who was then 

 a lad of about ten years, herded or watched them alone (see A, PI. 195), 

 though they kept him very busy when the other men had withdrawn. 



At about two o'clock the snakes are replaced in the large bag, 

 usually by the men who bathed them and the boys who watched them, 

 afterwards. Often the largest ones are picked out and put into the 

 small snake bags by the men. I have seen them pick out several of 

 the larger ones and measure them, selecting the largest they could 

 find. Little Hoveima had on one occasion selected a large bull snake, 

 which he was trying to get into his little snake bag. Before he could 

 close the bag, the snake would shoot out past his face, which elicited 

 from him several times a half-despairing, "Icana!" (Oh my!) Finally, 

 however, he succeeded in subduing and confining the protesting 

 reptile. After all the snakes have been put away, all wash their 

 hands and the chief priest sweeps up and carries out the sand. 



The washing of the snakes is considered by the snake priests to 

 be one of the most sacred and solemn rites of the whole ceremony, 

 and has been witnessed, as far as I know, by only two white persons 

 besides myself. Professor Ehrenreich from Berlin, Germany, and a 

 government employee who had been with the Hopi for a number of 

 years. In both cases, however, the priests acquiesced in the presence 

 of the men only after arguing the case a long time, in which they were 

 so serious, that in the case of the last named gentleman, the washing 

 took place over an hour after the appointed time, and even then they 



