St Josephs Academy - La Lumiere Yearbook (Prescott, AZ)

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ACADEMY CHIME . i9 sight is “ as thrilling as it is hideous and as exciting as it is repulsive.” Some two hundred snakes are used in one of these dances, and examination has proved that the fangs and poison - glands are in a normal and deadly con- dition both during the washing cere- mony and at the close of the dance. They proceed in double file; one man holds the snakes and the other attracts the attention of the monsters with the feather he carries, this acting as a charm keeps the snakes from biting the one holding them. There are, generally about ten Moqui girls standing on one side of the enclosure, holding baskets of sacred meal, and every time the snake- men pass them they scatter some of this meal. This has been repeated several times when the leader of the Antelopes makes a ring of the meal and sprinkles it with water. All the men now throw the snakes into the ring and the women cast the remainder of the sacred meal over them. All make a “grab” for the snakes and, taking as many as they can hold, run down the mesa. When they reach the base they fling the snakes in every direction and a general melee ensues. On their return from their race down the hill they drink of a medicine pre- pared by the women, and also bathe themselves with it. The medicine is of such efficacy that, in case of a bite hav- ing been inflicted by any of the rattle- snakes, it serves as an anTldote. How and from what it is produced is known only to themselves. Many, I believe, have vainly endeavored to force the Moquis to disclose the secret ; it would be a benefit to humanity to possess a remedy for rattlesnake poison. After the performance, the Snake and Antelope men adjourn to their respec- tive kivas and there await the women who are to bring them the much-needed food. Every woman from the three vil- lages of the mesa contributes something and they feast themselves to satiety. A Moqui Indian will never kill a snake. There is an ancient tradition among them that they received their language from the snakes which prob- ably accounts for their reverence. The morning of the Snake Dance, Rev. Father Vuillard celebrated Mass in the village of Walpi, the first time the Holy Sacrifice had been offered in that place for upwards of two hundred and fifty years. Barbara Hubbell, ’00. ALUMNA NOTES. Miss Elva Haskell, ’96, is teaching at Cottonwood, Arizona. Mrs. Bennet, nee Fannie Lindsay, ’94, of Jerome, visited the Academy a short time since. Miss Maddie Freuler, ’94, who was obliged to discontinue teaching on ac- count of ocular trouble, is now in San Diego under medical treatment. Miss Dollie Butler, ’97, has accepted a position with the Sunset Telephone Company. Her sister, Josephine, stud- ent, ’90, is teaching at Skull Valley. Miss Cora Lindsay, ’96, after an extended sojourn at the seaside, re- turned to Prescott and will make her home with her guardian, Mr. W. O’Neil. Miss Alice Campbell, ’98, after spend- ing a year in Washington, D. C., has returned to school for a post-graduate work. Alice is our exemplary gradu- ate. Ever regular in attendance at Sodality meetings and promptly on hand for First Friday rehearsals, her bright example is one well worthy of imitation. She manifests her affection for and her loyalty to her Alma Mater by rendering cordial assistance to all who are “ eager to drink at the foun- tain of Knowledge.” We welcome you to the class-room, Alice, for your pres- ence awakens sweet memories of “Ye olden time.” Barbara Hobbell, ’00.

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i8 ACADEMY CHIMES. THE SNAKE DANCE. 71 mong the many marvelous feat- ures of sunny Arizona, one of V I surpassing interest is the Snake J | Dance of the Moqui Indians. This wonderful religious cere- mony has often been described but no description can possibly do the subject justice. Last summer I witnessed it for the second time and, during my stay in the Moqui village, was forcibly im- pressed by the romance, history, and strange doings of the so-called “Snake people.” Our party of eleven, including Rev. Father Anselm, O. S. F., and Rev. Father Vuillard, left Ganado, the Navajo reser- vation at sunrise on Monday, and a two days’ ride brought us to our destination. The Moqui snake dance occurs every year in one of their villages. The best Snake Men are said to be those of the village of Walpi, which is situated on a mesa about six hundred feet high, in the northern part of the territory. The Moquis regard the snake with reverence as their maternal ancestor belonged to the “snake people.” The Snake Dance is therefore a prayer for rain and the ceremonials used are con- sidered necessary to propitiate “ those above ” who control the elements so that refreshing showers descend upon the otherwise barren fields. The men who take part in the dance fast for three days previous to it and devote that time to snake-hunting. Deadly rattle-snakes are captured from the fields, and, as they are to take part in the prayer, they must undergo a pro- cess of purification. Hence, a few hours before the open air dance, all the snakes are washed in the underground kiva. In this way the terrible reptiles are prepared to engage with their “ younger brothers,” the Moquis, in the petition for rain. Very few have ever witnessed this ablution as it is a secret proceeding—those only who belong to the Snake Order are supposed to be pre- sent thereat. The performance begins at four o’clock in the afternoon, generally in the month of August; the place where it is to be given having been previously swept, branches of Cottonwood trees are placed against the quaint structure near a wonderful pillar of erosion called by the Moquis the “sacred rock.” In front of these branches is dug a deep hole and some boards firmly fixed over it, so arranged that when one steps on them a hollow sound is pro- duced. When everything is in readiness, the Antelope Men (a minor order of the Snake Men) come out, some with sacred meal, others with rattlers, still others bearing large feathers; they follow the priest who carries a basin of water which he sprinkles around the dancing grounds. The procession moves in front of the Cottonwood trees and the dancers stamp their feet on the boards so as to notify the spirits of the under- world of their presence. They file up on each side of the trees and await the coming of the Snake Men. In a short time is heard the unmistakable tramp which heralds their approach. They appear looking fierce and warlike. They walk rapidly pass the Antelope Men for some distance and back again in front of the trees; then stamp their feet as the Antelope Men did and draw up in line directly opposite them. Now they are ready to begin the Dance which consists in raising the right foot and swaying the body from side to side, beating time with a feather or a rattler and accompanying these strange move- ments by a low monotonous chant. These preliminaries occupy about ten minutes. Now comes the most exciting and in- teresting scene. One of the men stoops, lifts the snakes and distributes them to the men who handle them with freedom and readiness that seems astounding. Some are. seen with two or three snakes in their mouths and the

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20 ACADEMY CHIMES. ACADEMY NOTES. Louise McKinney still insists on play- ing the entrance march tempo di cake- walk. Nettie has been pronounced the champion of the class in Word Analysis, though the word is sometimes inaudible. Loretta is giving her undivided atten- tion to the study of “ Voice as an acoustical phenomenon.” We await the announcement of that Bass Solo, Loretta ! Unique class pins have been present- ed the graduates. The emblem, Owl and Laurel Wreath, enameled in class colors, Sea-green and White, are com- bined most artistically. Louise is is our botanist, and now, that gentle Spring in all her surpassing loveliness has come, she may be found at peep o’ day with spade and bag in earnest quest of the Flora of Arizona. It is really cruel for those amateur amanuenses to display their intellectual superiority over some of us by circulat- ing so freely slips of paper covered with stenographic characters. Quid scribis, dulcissime f Etta has won for herself the enviable title of “Sub”; her average at the late examination was the highest. Let her success be a stimulus to others less fortunate in the fray and her example one for them to emulate. Inez, in the recent controversy on Century Question, proved herself elo- quent with pen and tongue. She de- bated the question skillfully and forcibly and her opponents, unable to “ prove an affirmative,” were forced to sur- render. The cupola is a popular rendezvous for the astronomy class on starry nights where the enthusiastic students view the “ Forget-me-nots of the Angels,” and with the aid of an opera-glass, in lieu of a telescope, read the heavens while meditating on the desolateness of space. Per aspera ad astra ! Some of the seniors who are aspiring to the delightful task of “ teaching the young idea,” have given manifest signs of a special aptitude for that profession. Sylvia agrees with others that the school-year has been “ one unbroken flow of rythmic bliss,” but a moment later pronounces the editorial board unkind for making our blunders an institute of their success. Our “ intensely literary girl, who idolizes Caesar, wears glasses, abjures bangs and caramels and ice-cream,” astonished the Rhetoric class the other day by her enunciation of the phrase, marched into Bellisle. Ask Barbara about it. Nettie is spending all her leisure pre- paring a very interesting article entitled “ Reminiscences of a School Girl.” As the pupils of St. Joseph’s form the dramatic personee we are most anxious to review it and hope to have it ready for publication in our next issue. Mary Day was the recipient of so many congratulations on the manner in which she recited “ The Widow’s Son ” that she fancies herself a Mary Ander- son in embryo—nor need she be cen- sured if she now walks and talks and brushes her hair with the airs of a heavy tragedian. Our “student,” nothing daunted by her failure to reach her usual high per- centage in Algebra, studies with in- creased diligence. Inez possesses the happy faculty of seeing the optimistic, not the pessimistic, side of school-life, and knows that the port of Success is made only by the ship called Venture. Anna Burke’s gentle countenance is missed from the class-room; on account of serious affection of the eyes, she was obliged to rest from her studies and is now in Phoenix under the oculist’s care. Anna has made rapid strides in the path of learning since September, and we trust she will soon be able to resume her work.