The katchinas are supposed to come to the earth from the underworld in February and remain until July, when they say farewell. Hence there are two specific times which dramatically celebrate the arrival and departure of the katchinas. The former of these times is called by the Hopi _Powamû_, and the latter _Niman_. At these festivals, or merry dances, certain members of the participating clans wear masks representing the katchinas, hence katchina masks are often to be found in Hopi houses when one is privileged to see the treasures stored away. In order to instruct the children in the many katchinas of the Hopi pantheon, _tihûs_, or dolls, are made in imitation of the ancestral supernal beings, and these quaint and curious toys are eagerly sought after by those interested in Indian life and thought. Dr. Fewkes has in his private collection over two hundred and fifty different katchina tihûs, and in the Field Columbian Museum there is an even larger collection. Of the altars, screens, fetishes, cloud-blowers, ceremonial pipes, bull-roarers, etc., I have not space here to write. Suffice it to say they have a large place in the Hopi's ritual and all should be carefully studied. When I first began to visit the Hopis my camps were generally at the foot of the trail, as near to water as possible. Every morning at a very early hour I was awakened by a loud ringing of cowbells, and at first I thought it must be that the Hopis had a herd of cows and they were driving them out to pasture. They were evidently going at a good speed, for the bells clanged and clattered and jangled as if being fiercely shaken. But when I looked for the cows they were never to be seen. Then, too, as on succeeding mornings I listened I found the animals must be driven very hastily, for the sound moved with great rapidity towards, past, away from me. One morning I determined to get up and watch as soon as I heard the noise approaching. It was just as the earliest premonitions of dawn were being given that I was awakened, and, hurriedly jumping up, stood on my blankets and watched. Soon one, two, four, and more figures darted by in the dim light, each carrying a jangling cowbell, and to my amazement I found they were not cows, but Hopi young men, naked except for a strap or girdle around the loins, from which hung the bell, resting upon the haunch. They were out for their morning run, and it was not merely a physical exercise, but had a distinct religious meaning to them. As I have elsewhere written:--