432 THE MOUNTAIN CHANT. 
about forty paces in diameter, and the fence was about eight feet high, 
with an opening left in the east about ten feet wide. 
125. The moment the dark circle of branches was finished it inclosed 
sacred ground. Any dog who dared to enter was chased out with 
shouts and missiles. The man or woman who came must, on the first 
occasion, pass around to the left, i. e., to the south of the great wood- 
pile. No one was allowed to peep through the fence or look over the 
edge of it to witness the ceremonies. That part of the auditorium was 
reserved for the spirits of the bears and other ancestral animal gods. 
No horse might be led into the inclosure until after sunrise next 
morning, when the fence was razed and all became common soil once 
more. 
126. When the night began to fall many of the visitors moved all 
their goods into the corral and lighted there a number of small fires close 
to the fence, temporarily abandoning their huts and shelters outside. 
Those who did not move in left watchers to protect their property ; for 
there are thieves among the Navajo. The woods around the corral 
were lighted up in various directions by the fires of those who had not 
taken their property into the great inclosure and of parties who were 
practicing dances and shows of an exoteric character. 
127. The nocturnal performances of this evening (Tuesday, October 
28, 1884) were as meager as any I have seen within the dark circle of 
branches. The best show I ever witnessed in the circle was one which 
took place at Keam’s Cafion, Arizona, on the 5th of November, 1882. 
For this reason I will make the notes taken on the latter occasion the 
basis of my description of the “corral dance,” adding as I proceed 
such comments as may be justified by subsequent observation and in- 
formation. 
128. At 8 o’clock a band of musicians which I will call the orchestra 
entered, sat down beside one of the small fires in the west, and began 
to make various vocal and instrumental noises of a musical character, 
which continued with scarcely any interruption until the close of the 
dance in the morning. At the moment the music began the great cen- 
tral fire was lighted, and the conflagration spread so rapidly through 
the entire pile that in a few moments it was enveloped in great flames. 
A storm of sparks flew upward to the height of a hundred feet or more, 
and the descending ashes fell in the corral like a light shower of snow. 
The heat was soon so intense that in the remotest parts of the inclos- 
ure it was necessary for one to screen his face when he looked towards 
the fire. And now all was ready to test the endurance of the dancers 
who must expose, or seem to expose (paragraph 149), their naked breasts 
to the torrid glow. 
129, First dance (Plate XII). When the fire gave out its most in- 
tense heat, a warning whistle was heard in the outer darkness, and a 
dozen forms, lithe and lean, dressed only in the narrow white breech- 
cloth and moccasins, and daubed with white earth until they seemed a 
group of living marbles, came bounding through the entrance, yelping 

