About one hundred and fifty feet below the village is a terrace which almost surrounds the Mashonganavi mesa, as a rocky ruff around its neck. This terrace is so connected with the main plateau that one can drive upon it with a wagon and thus encamp close to the village. Here in 1901 the two wagon loads of sightseers and tourists which I had guided to the mysteries and delights of Tusayan, over the sandy and scorched horrors of a portion of the Painted Desert, encamped, during the last days of the Snake Dance ceremonies. From here a trail--at its head an actual rock stairway--leads down to a spring in the valley, where the government school is situated, and from whence all our cooking and drinking water had to be brought. Each morning and evening droves of sheep and goats passed our camp, coming up from below and going down to the scant pasturage of the valley. Scarcely an hour passed when some Indian--oftener half a dozen--came to our camp, and failed to pass. Especially at meal times, when the biscuits were in the oven, the stew on the fire, the beans in the pot, and the dried fruit in the stew-kettle, did they seem to enjoy visiting us. And they liked to come close, too; far too close for our comfort, as their persons are not always of the most cleanly character, and their habits of the most decorous and refined. Hence rules had to be laid down which it was my province to see observed, one of which was that visiting Indians must keep to a distance, especially at meal times. Another was that if our blankets were allowed to remain unrolled (in order to get the direct benefit of the sun's rays) they were not so left for our Indian friends to lounge upon. [Illustration: AN AGED HOPI AT ORAIBI.] [Illustration: A HOPI, WEAVING A NATIVE COTTON CEREMONIAL KILT.] We were generally a hungry lot as we sat or squatted around our canvas tablecloth, our table the rocky ground, and there was scant ceremony when ceremony stood in the way of appeasing our appetites. But we were not wasteful. If there were any "scraps" or any small remains on a plate or dish they were "saved for the Indians." So that at length it became a catch-word with us. If there was anything, anywhere, at any time, that we did not like, some one of the party was sure to suggest that it be "saved for the Indians." And that has often since suggested to me our national policy in treating the Amerind. There is too much national "Save that for the Indians." Land that is no good to a white man--save it for the Indians. Beef cattle that white men don't buy--save them for the Indians. Spoiled flour--save it for the Indians. Seeds that won't grow--ship 'em to the Indians.