Not long afterward there was a furious night storm of wind and rain. On the following morning, great seams appeared in the northern walls of the old building. I called a council of the Indians and urged that since they would not repair the míssa-house, it be torn down; for it might fall over some day and kill the women and children as they passed through the narrow alley it overshadowed, on their way to and from the spring. Again I was told that my words were good, but alas! they could not heed them; that it was the míssa-house of their fathers! How, if they took it away, would the fathers know their own? It was well that the wind and rain wore it away, as time wasted away their fathers' bones. That mattered not, for it was the work of the beloved, whereof they, the fathers, were aware, but for themselves to move it suddenly away, that were worse than the despoiling of the shrine; for it was the house of the fathers, the shrine only a thing thereof, not a thing of the fathers as verily as was the house itself. From their point of view this reasoning of the Indians was perfectly consistent, based as it was on their belief that the souls of their ancestors were mediators and that their mortal remains and the places and things thereof were means of invoking them, quite as sacrifices are supposed to be, for the time being, the mortal and mediate parts of the gods and spirits to which they have been offered, hence a potent means of invoking them. This is shown much more clearly in the only other instance of seeming reverence for the church that I can pause to give. The Zuñis are careful to remove all traces of Catholicism, or rather all symbols of the Mexican religion, from their persons or vicinity during the performance of their sacred dances or rites, seeing to it that no Mexican word, even, is ever spoken in the presence of the Kâ´kâ. If a Mexican or anyone suspected of being a Mexican happens to approach their town during a ceremonial, he is met by watchful sentinels and led, no matter what his rank, condition, or haste, to some sequestered room, where, although courteously treated and hospitably entertained without charge, he is securely locked up and rigorously guarded until after the dance or other observance is over. "The fathers of these Mexicans did violence to our fathers," say the Indians in explanation, "when that our fathers of old called the sacred Kâ´kâ. Therefore, in those days our fathers sought to hide the dancers from their eyes. Our fathers come nigh in breath, when now we call the Kâ´kâ, and they aid our songs and prayers to the beloved Gods of Rain and Wind. How, if they see we have departed from their customs, and reveal these things? Then will they be sad at our forgetfulness of their ways, and filled with fear lest these evil people, beholding, do sacrilege to their precious Kâ´kâ, and will flee away, nor aid our songs and prayers for rain, nor our calls for their beloved presence!"