ge deer, like black tails, and
exquisite species of dwarf deer, about the size of a three months' fawn,
pecarries, wild turkeys, prairie dogs, rabbits and quail. They take very
large green turtles in the Gulf of California. Mesquite beans they eat
both cooked and raw. The mesquite is a small tree that bears seeds in
pods.

The snake dance is another evidence of the comparative failure of
civilization to civilize. This is seen chiefly in the vicinity of the
Grand Canon of the Colorado. Venomous rattlesnakes are used in the
dance, which is an annual affair. Hundreds of snakes are caught for the
occasion, and when the great day arrives the devotees rush into the
corral and each seizes a rattler for his purpose. Reliable authorities,
who have witnessed this dance, vouch for the fact that the snakes are
not in any way robbed of their power to implant their poisonous fangs
into the flesh of the dancers. It even appears as though the greater the
number of bites, the more delighted are the participants, who hold the
reptiles in the most careless manner and allow them to strike where they
will, and to plant their horrible fangs into the most vulnerable parts
with impunity. When the dance is over, the snakes are taken back to the
woods and given their liberty, the superstition prevailing that for the
space of one year the reptiles will protect the tribe from all ill or
suffering.

The main interest attached to this dance is the secret of why it is the
dancers do not die promptly. No one doubts the power of the rattlesnake
to kill. Liberal potations of whisky are supposed by some people to
serve as an antidote, while Mexicans and some tribes of Indians claim to
have knowledge of a herb which will also prolong the life of a man stung
by a snake and apparently doomed to an early death. Tradition tells us
that for the purposes of this dance, a special antidote has been handed
down from year to year, and from generation to generation, by the
priests of the Moquis. It is stated that one of the patriarchs of old
had the secret imparted to him under pledges and threats of inviolable
secrecy. By him it has been perpetuated with great care, being always
known to three persons, the high priest of the tribe, his vice-regent
and proclaimed successor, and the oldest woman among them. On the death
of any one of the three trustees of the secret, the number is made up in
the manner ordered by the rites of the tribal religion, and to reveal
the