THE HOPI SNAKE-DANCE 81 



were in an atmosphere of quiet peacefulness. 

 When I rose to say good-by, I thanked my hosts 

 for their courtesy; they were pleased, and two 

 or three shook hands with me. 



On the afternoon of the following day, August 

 20, the antelope priests — the men of the an- 

 telope clan — held their dance. The snake 

 priests took part. It was held in the middle of 

 Walpi village, round a big, rugged column of 

 rock, a dozen feet high, which juts out of the 

 smooth surface. The antelope-dancers came in 

 first, clad in kilts, with fox skins behind; other- 

 wise naked, painted with white splashes and 

 streaks, and their hair washed with the juice 

 of the yucca root. Their leader's kilt was white; 

 he wore a garland and anklets of cottonwood 

 leaves, and sprinkled water from a sacred vessel 

 to the four corners of heaven. iVnother leader 

 carried the sacred bow and a bull-roarer, and 

 they moved to its loud moaning sound. The 

 snake priests were similarly clad, but their 

 kirtles were of leather; eagle plumes were in 

 their long hair, and under their knees they car- 

 ried rattles made of tortoise-shell. In two lines 

 they danced opposite each other, keeping time 

 to the rhythm of their monotonous chanting. 



On the top of the column were half a dozen 

 Hopi young men, clad in ordinary white man's 



