Many are the strange uses of plants by the Hopi, and much curious lore has gathered about them. Some of the plants are named for the animals and insects which live upon them, such as "the caterpillar, his corn," "the mole, his corn"; while some, from fancied resemblances, are called "rat's ear," "bat plant," "rattle plant," etc. Two plants growing in company are believed to be related and one is spoken of as the child of the other. Plants are also known as male and female, and each belongs to its special point of the compass. Many are used in the religious ceremonies; those beloved by the gods appear on the prayer-sticks offered to beseech the kind offices of the nature deities. Strange as it may seem, the Hopi have medicine women as well as medicine men. The best known of these is Saalako, the mother of the Snake priest. She brews the dark medicine for the Snake dance and guards the secret of the antidote for snake bites. The writer once met at the place called "Broad House" a Navaho medicine man. He was a wrinkled, grizzled specimen of humanity mounted on a burro and was hunting for herbs, as was seen by a glance into the pouch which he wore by his side. A little tobacco induced him to dismount and spread out his store of herbs. When shown the writer's collection of plants, he became much interested, no doubt believing that he had found a fellow practitioner. He requested samples of several of the plants, and when they were given him, stored them away in his pouch with every evidence of satisfaction. The Hopi priests are also very glad to receive any herb coming from far off, especially from the sea-coast, "the land of the far water," as they call it. They treasure such carefully and mix it with sacred smoking tobacco or introduce it into the "charm liquid" which is used in every ceremony to mix the paint for the prayer-sticks and to sprinkle during their strange rites. An American farmer might be at a loss to recognize a Hopi cornfield when he saw one. In the usually dry stream beds or "washes" he would see low clumps of vegetation, arranged with some regularity over the sand. This is the Hopi cornfield, so planted in order to get the benefit of rains which, falling higher up, may fill the washes, for the summer thunder-storms are very erratic in their favors. The Hopi farmer sets out to plant, armed only with a dibble which serves as plow, hoe, and cultivator combined. Arriving at the waste of sand which is his unpromising seed-field, he sits down on the ground, digs a hole, and puts in perhaps twenty grains, covering them with the hands. Whether he has any rule like One for the cutworm, One for the crow, One for luck, is doubtful, but in the years when cutworms are likely to be plentiful he plants more corn to the hill.