of him and in turn bathe him in flame. At times when a dancer found no one in front of him he proceeded to sponge his own back, and might keep this up while making two or three circuits around the fire or until he caught up with some one else. At each application of the blaze the loud trumpeting was heard, and it often seemed as if a great flock of cranes was winging its way overhead southward through the darkness. If a brand became extinguished it was lighted again in the central fire; but when it was so far consumed as to be no longer held conveniently in the hand, the dancer dropped it and rushed, trumpeting, out of the corral. Thus, one by one, they all departed. When they were gone many of the spectators came forward, picked up some of the fallen fragments of cedar bark, lighted them, and bathed their hands in the flames as a charm against the evil effects of fire. [Illustration: Bureau of Ethnology Fifth Annual Report Pl. XIII FIRE DANCE.] 149. Did these dancers, next day, hide sore and blistered backs under their serapes? I think not, for I have seen and conversed with some of the performers immediately after the fire show, and they seemed happy and had nothing to complain of. Did the medicine they spat on one another save them? Certainly not, although the Indians claim it is a true prophylactic against burns and call it azè-sakázi or cold medicine. But it is probable that the cedar bark ignites at a low temperature, and more than probable that the coating of white earth with which their bodies were covered is an excellent non-conductor. However, the thought that their bodies might have been thus ingeniously protected lessened little, if any, the effect produced on the spectator. I have seen many fire scenes on the stage, many acts of fire eating and fire handling by civilized jugglers, and many fire dances by other Indian tribes, but nothing quite comparable to this in all its scenic effects. 150. The closing ceremonies I did not witness on this occasion, but I saw them at subsequent dances. Shortly before sunrise an assistant passed around the fire four times and sprinkled a little water on the mass of smoldering embers, while the medicine man chanted the appropriate song. Later, three gaps were torn in the circle of branches--one in the south, one in the west, and one in the north--making, with the original gate in the east, four entrances to the corral. (See Plate XIV.) Just after sunrise the entire circle of branches was razed, but the branches were not carried away. The traveler through the Navajo country often encounters withered remains of these circles. In the ceremony of October, 1884, the chanter, having another engagement which was pressing, packed up his sacred utensils and left soon after sunrise. The patient, it was said, was not permitted to sleep until after sunset.