wicker board
by plaiting willows and sew a buckskin cloth to either edge, and this is
fulled in the middle so as to form a sack closed at the bottom. At the
top they make a wicker shade, like "my grandmother's sunbonnet," and
wrapping the little one in a wild-cat robe, place it in the basket, and
this they carry on their backs, strapped over the forehead, and the
little brown midgets are ever peering over their mothers' shoulders. In
camp, they stand the basket against the trunk of a tree or hang it to a
limb.

There is little game in the country, yet they get a mountain sheep now
and then or a deer, with their arrows, for they are not yet supplied
with guns. They get many rabbits, sometimes with arrows, sometimes with
nets. They make a net of twine, made of the fibers of a native flax.
Sometimes this is made a hundred yards in length, and is placed in a
half-circular position, with wings of sage brush. Then they have a
circle hunt, and drive great numbers of rabbits into the snare, where
they are shot with arrows. Most of their bows are made of cedar, but the
best are made of the horns of mountain sheep. These are soaked in water
until quite soft, cut into long thin strips, and glued together; they
are then quite elastic. During the autumn, grasshoppers are very
abundant, can be gathered by the bushel. At such a time, they dig a
hole in the sand, heat stones in a fire near by, put some hot stones in
the bottom of the hole, put on a layer of grasshoppers, then a layer of
hot stones, and continue this, until they put bushels on to roast. There
they are.

When cold weather sets in, these insects are numbed and left until cool,
when they are taken out, thoroughly dried, and ground into meal.
Grasshopper gruel or grasshopper cake is a great treat.

Their lore consists of a mass of traditions, or mythology. It is very
difficult to induce them to tell it to white men; but the old Spanish
priests, in the days of the conquest of New Mexico, spread among the
Indians of this country many Bible stories, which the Indians are
usually willing to tell. It is not always easy to recognize them; the
Indian mind is a strange receptacle for such stories and they are apt to
sprout new limbs. Maybe much of their added quaint-ness is due to the
way in which they were told by the "fathers." But in a confidential way,
while alone, or when admitted to their camp fire on a winter night, one
may hear the stories of their mythology. I believe