40 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 65 
In the earth just west of the “nest” was uncovered a small frag- 
ment of a human occipital bone. Following this clew we dug exten- 
sively all along this part of the cliff in a futile search for burials. 
With Pictograph Cave we finished our work in the westernmost of 
the canyons that run down toward the “ Monuments” from the Cap- 
itan Plateau. In a country so broken and containing so many rami- 
fying side valleys our survey was necessarily superficial, but that we 
missed any ruins of considerable size is not likely. There are, how- 
ever, literally hundreds of caves which were not examined, and it 
is probable that some of them contain burials, caches, or sand-covered 
deposits left by people who did not build houses. Such a cave not 
far from our camp showed no superficial sign of occupancy, but 
yielded on exploration a number of shallow ash beds containing 
cracked bones and part of a sandstone metate. There were also 
picked wp in this cave a hank of yucca fiber prepared for spinning, 
and a small bone lozenge with incised crosshatching on one side; 
there were no potsherds. 
Hacor 
Our next move was to Hagoé Canyon, a gorge running roughly 
parallel to the one we had just left (see fig. 1). Its head is also in 
the Capitan Plateau, and it ends directly among the “ Monuments.” 
Although its source was apparently not more than 2 or 3 miles from 
our last camping place, as the crow flies, we had to ride 15 miles 
through the “ Monuments” to reach it. The scenery of Hagoé, 
especially about its lower end, where erosion has been particularly 
freakish, is as extraordinary as any that can be found in the South- 
west. The “ Monuments” themselves, shafts, and towers of wind-and- 
water-sculptured sandstone, guard its entrance (pl. 11, a, >); in its 
upper reaches the red and gray and yellow cliffs with their sheer 
faces, rounded domes, and small, high-perched natural bridges are 
superb beyond any description. The Hagoé Valley is dry and sandy; 
there are neither running streams nor springs; the few Navaho 
families who inhabit the region procure their water from tanks and 
reservoirs in the rocks. We camped by one of these at the head of 
the canyon. Just below, in a deep bay of the cliffs, partly over- 
hung by the upper strata and well sheltered from the wind, 
there is a Navaho peach orchard. Its 150 or more trees, heavy 
with fruit just ripening, seemed surprisingly green and _flour- 
ishing in so barren a setting. There is evidently an underground 
seepage of water at this place which the Indians have cleverly held 
back and concentrated on their trees by means of a series of cross- 
ridges of earth and rocks. Almost hidden in a cranny above the 
