and talking and rehearsing for the coming ceremony. The second day all
go for wood, bringing it home on their backs, for so the ancients
did when beasts of burden were unknown to them. The third day is also
spent in gathering wood, and the fourth day likewise. On the same day
the ten men who are to personate the Kō-yē-mē-shi, in company with
the [t]Sī-[t]sī-[t]ki (great-grandfather of the Kō-yē-mē-shi),
pass through the village, inquiring for the boys who are to be
initiated; before such houses as have boys ready for this ceremonial
these men assemble; one of them enters the house and, greeting the
mother of the boy with "Good morning," inquires the name of her son.
She replies: "He has no name," and requests the Kō-yē-mē-shi to
give him one. The man then joins the group, repeating the words of the
woman. In passing from the kiva through the village the Indian screens
his face with a blanket, so as not to see the women as he passes. On
the fifth day they go on a rabbit hunt, the capture of but one rabbit
being necessary. The rabbit is carried to the He-i-i-que (or Kiva of
the North) by the [t]SÄ«-[t]SÄ« [t]ki, who, after skinning the rabbit,
fills the skin with cedar bark; a pinch of meal is placed for the
heart and the eye sockets are filled with mica; a hollow reed is
passed through the inside filling to the mouth. The sixth day
the inmates of the kivas again go for wood; the seventh day large
Tē-līk-tkī-nā-we are made of eagle plumes; the eighth day is
consumed in decorating the masks to be worn. As these people have
not the art of mixing their pigments so as to be permanent, masks and
altars have to be freshly decorated before using; and, when the masks
are completely decorated, they, with the other paraphernalia, are
carried on the same day by the men and youths who have to wear them to
some secluded nooks among the rocks, a distance from the town, where
they put them on, returning to the village by early moonlight.