A day at Tyuonyi during “corn gathering month” about 1537 A.D. was an interesting one. The large plaza inside Puwige was swept clean, if customs of yesteryear parallel those of today, and the corn was brought therein. Corn, they believed, had life like people and would be glad to be brought in and housed and protected. It was placed in piles and everybody from the pueblo helped with the husking—men, women and children. And when they finished they might have gone to the cliffs to help their relatives with their husking. As fast as the ears were husked they were thrown on the flat mud roofs of the houses to dry. These Indians did not use all the corn at once. The old women thought of crop failures the next year and so they saved a double amount of the life-giving grains to plant the year after. After all the husking was done, the pueblo was swept clean with brooms made of grass bound with yucca fiber or corn husks. This was in preparation for a festival—a dance perhaps, to observe the gathering-in of the crop. Strange customs these Indians had! While corn was standing in the fields it was the property of the men. As soon as it was gathered, husked and stored, it belonged to the women who were the caretakers, even though they took little part in pueblo life at Frijoles which was predominantly a masculine society. Not all the four hundred rooms at Puwige were used for dwellings. Perhaps no more than a hundred Indians lived here. The smaller rooms around the inside of the circle, more than likely, were used for storage purposes. If this were so, it was here that great stores of corn were kept—inside the circle, safe from plunderers and robbers. How important this corn was! It might have been offered to the Gods as a request for various favors and Indian women might have taken corn along when they went to look for pottery clay, for clay was a scarce item here. And some of the people might have worn little bags of corn around their necks. Even in prehistoric times a corn cake would have tasted good. Green corn was pounded into a pulp, patted into a cake and then baked on a hearth of black stone over a little fireplace. And Indian women could have greased the little cakes with the fat of a deer to make them tasty. When the corn was all dry old women knelt before their angled metates set in bins and with a hand-piece or mano of black basalt they ground. Their fingernails were worn oblique on the ends from constant rubbing in rhythmic time with a corn-grinding chant sung by the men as they beat a drum or two. And they ground on three or four metates. First, they broke the corn, then by the time it was passed on and ground on each of the metates, it was transformed into fine corn flour. And lastly, it was stored away or perhaps packed over the mountains to other villages. Some of it might have been traded for buffalo hides by traders who penetrated the buffalo region to the east, far out of the realm of the pueblos of