There were ceremonial antelope hunts before cattle and horses destroyed the grass on the ranges and while these members of the deer tribe were plentiful. One of the most beautiful flowers of the Southwest, the scarlet gilia, is thought to be especially liked by the antelope, and tradition says that for this reason the hunter formerly ground up the flowers with sacred meal and made offerings with it for success in hunting that graceful animal. Remains of extensive stake fences and corrals built by the Navaho for driving the antelope are to be seen south of the Hopi Reservation. One of these is called the "Chindi corral," because the Navaho say that in the last great hunt those who ate of the antelope captured were made sick and many died. Hence no Navaho will camp in this bewitched corral or use a piece of the wood for camp fires, no matter how great the necessity. The Hopi sometimes hunted the antelope by driving, but usually relied on surprise, fleetness of foot, the bow and arrow, and the boomerang. No doubt the deer and great elk were ceremonially hunted in the old days of tradition. There is little reason to believe that the Hopi vegetarians have for centuries gained more than a flavor of animal food to vary their diet. Formerly the antelope must have been more important, though always difficult to capture. Now, the Hopi perforce hunt rabbits, as the _tabo_ or cottontail and the _sowi_ or jackrabbit alone of all the game animals survive in this region. If one chances to see a hunting party set out or to encounter them in active chase he will have a novel experience and wonder what all the screaming, barking of dogs, and running hither and thither mean, if he does not fear that he has met the Peaceful People on the warpath. The hunters smeared with clay present a strange appearance. In their hands they carry bow and arrows, boomerangs of oak, and various clubs and sticks. One of the party is delegated to carry the rabbits, and he usually rides a burro. In and out among the rocks of the mesa sides they skirmish like coyotes and with quite as fiendish noise. Rabbits have little chance unless they take to earth, and even then the Hopi stop to dig or twist them out. Such a hunt means sixty or seventy miles, perhaps, of hard work before the hunters dash up the home mesa with their game to "feed the eagles" or for some other ceremonial purpose. Some of the ceremonial hunts bring out as many as a hundred Hopi, and in such case those on horse or burro or afoot drive the rabbits into a narrowing circle and close in with an exciting melee that displays more energy than a football game. If for any reason the rabbits are scarce and the result of a hunt is small, the Hopi return somewhat dejected and have little to say, but if the _sowimaktu_ has been a success they make a triumphant entry with much shouting and exultant song.