On this particular Sunday the exploring party felt out of sorts. The Indian workmen who had been digging in the ruins of an ancient pueblo near by had been served notice by the chief of the neighboring village to quit and a warning sent to our party in this wise, "Go away, you are bad; you bring the wind and keep away the rains." This is a grave charge in a country where winds disperse the thunder clouds with their precious burden before they reach the corn fields. No invention could devise a more damaging statement. The Walpi, who are freer from superstition than most of the Hopi, felt less desire to earn the coveted silver after this announcement. Finally it was decided to ask Nashihiptuwa to a council, talk it over with him and persuade him to withdraw his ultimatum. A boy was dispatched to find him in his field where he was at work. Shortly the old chief of Shumopavi appeared in the distance, clad in a breech-clout and with a hoe on his shoulder. He stopped outside the camp and put on an abbreviated cotton shirt, making himself somewhat more presentable. Squatting on the sand with hands clasped around the knees, a favorite Indian posture, the superannuated chief helped himself to tobacco and prepared for the argument with the circle of interested listeners. The day was very warm and a bank of clouds slowly coming up from the San Francisco Mountains seemed to promise rain which might convince the old man of the fallacy of his views. Hence the progress of this rain storm was an object of uncommon solicitude to the explorers. Dan, a school boy, who had been taught English, acted as interpreter. After a few preliminary remarks in which the old chief craftily laid the blame of the edict to the chief of another town whom all the Middle Mesa people fear, the discussion began as to whether the contact with the white man had been beneficial or injurious to the Hopi. Since circumstances, geographical and governmental, have conspired to keep the Hopi away from strong drink and other contaminations, the white man had a better case than usual. On his side the old chief mumbled that in the good old times the fields were more fruitful, the country covered with grass waist high, there were no cares, the people were happy and long-lived, the gods propitious, Urukiwa, the wind-god, did not drive away the rains; now all this was changed. The Walpi spokesman then in his turn pointed out the benefits which the white man had brought. Said he: