AMONG THE CLIFF DWELLERS. 3 8 3 
of some kind, sheep, cattle, or goats, and 
large numbers of these change hands on 
the outcome of the races. In a letter to 
me regarding these races, Mr. Ewing 
writes of one of the runners : 
“ I was with him ”—the Indian —“ when 
he was running his fifth round. It was 
about eight o’clock in the morning, and he 
was running at about eight miles an hour. 
At that time his competitor was about 
six miles behind him. I rode beside him 
for about four miles, when my horse had 
enough of it. There were a hundred 
Indians or more to see the race, and they 
had stations about every two miles on the 
trail, where they stopped the runners, 
rubbed them down, and gave them pinola, 
a parched corn, ground fine and mixed 
with water. The runners stopped one 
minute, or about that, at each station for 
