When I first noted the possibility—the probability—of accident at this unguarded mesa-brink, I proposed stretching a stout rope along it as some small measure of precaution; and I summoned the old Snake man to advise him of its purpose. A rope there might easily have been against the traditions, and I was new at the game of supervision. From the kiva came a nude figure and stood before me in the sight of the multitude. The interpreter explained my plan. “I see,” said the old man, nodding; “these people are your friends, and you do not want them hurt.” Now I did not care to vouch for all those present, and so corrected him. “No, they are not my friends—not all of them; they are people who travel about the country and come to see your dance.” “Didn’t you send them letters—write to them to come?” “No.” “Well,” he concluded, “I didn’t send for them. They are no friends of mine. And you say they are not friends of yours. Why should we care about it? Let them fall off.” But notwithstanding his unconcern, every year I had a rope stretched there, and compelled the daring to stand behind it. This too prevented them from crowding the dancers, which the Indians appreciated; for when a man is juggling an angry snake he doesn’t crave close company, and I have seen an annoyed dancer thrash a tourist across the face, using a live snake as his whip. Some day the breaking of house rafters, or a flurry of panic at the mesa edge may present tragedy as a closing feature of this ceremony. “Let them fall off” may yet have a grim sound. The rites are conducted by the Indians with solemnity and reverence. It is not a show in a juggler’s booth, to be guyed and ridiculed. But when one of the poisonous snakes has coiled, and is hissing and rattling and striking, just the time when one would think spectators would become more tense, that is when taunts are flung and a perfect bedlam of thoughtless merriment arises. Were there fewer visitors, as at minor ceremonies, they would be reproved; but the Hopi are a patient people, and they never insisted that these strangers behave themselves; they only expected that the visitor would keep his place, and not attempt to join the dance, a thing that some wild whites—including a few wild women—are only too ready to do. You now see all the standpoint of the old priest.