Avoiding Envenomation While Dancing with Rattlesnakes, the Hopi Snake Ritual and Tobacco

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Avoiding Envenomation While Dancing with Rattlesnakes, the
Hopi Snake Ritual and Tobacco
John C. Murphy1 and Michael D. Cardwell2
1 Science & Education, Field Museum of Natural History, 1600 Lake Shore Dr., Chicago, IL, USA.
Current address: 2564 E. Murdoch Ct., Green Valley, AZ 85614, USA, serpentresearch@gmail.com
2 Biology Department, San Diego State University, 5500 Campanile Drive,
San Diego, CA 92182, USA, mikecardwell31@gmail.com
The ancient art of snake-handling transcends geography
and culture and represents attempts to manipulate nature
through magic (Morris and Morris 1965). The earliest
evidence of indigenous North American people using snakes
in ceremonies is a 14th-century bowl from the Jeddito Valley
in Navajo County, Arizona (Parsons 1940). The bowl (Fig. 1)
links snakes, music, and the Pueblo people. Spanish explorers
Hernan Gallegos in 1581 and Antonio de Espejo in 1582 ob-
served indigenous people handling rattlesnakes in what is now
northeast Arizona (Parsons 1940). However, rattlesnakes were
on the minds of indigenous peoples long before this, as is sug-
gested by petroglyphs with rattlesnake imagery dated 15,000
years before the present (Reiserer 2016). For information on
how this was dated see Benson et al. (2013).
The Hopi Nation lives on the longest continuously inhab-
ited site in the western hemisphere. Today, Hopi villages are
surrounded by the Navajo Nation, in Navajo and Coconino
counties, Arizona. The site covers about 6,500 km² in north-
eastern Arizona; and about twelve thousand people are distrib-
uted among thirteen villages located on or around three adja-
cent mesas (Arizona Department of Health 2020). The oldest
village, Walpi, is located on First Mesa (Fig. 2).
The mesas are the southernmost extensions of Black Mesa,
part of the Colorado Plateau. Each mesa is about 12 kilometers
from the next, separated by valleys that drop about 150 m be-
low the summits of the mesas. The Second and Third Mesas
are in Navajo County (Weir 2020). Signicant cultural differ-
ences distinguish the people on each of the mesas (Whiteley
1988) and this includes differences in the way they practice
rituals like the late summer rain ceremonies.
The Hopi have also been known as the Tusayan and the
Moqui (sometimes spelled Moki) people. However, the people
living on these three mesas call themselves the Hopi. Since
knowledge of the Hopi snake dance reached the American
public and the rest of the world in the late 1870’s, the snake
dances of the Hopi have been plagued with tourists, artists, and
scholars wanting to peer into their lives (Fig. 3). An older Hopi
man who learned of anthropologist Peter Whiteley’s (1988)
studies of the Hopi asked him, “So you studied us, huh? Were
we interesting?” The Hopi have been exploited in part because
their culture is interesting, it persists today because the Hopi
have resisted conversion to Christianity.
Much of the Hopi culture is based upon the Kachina Cult.
Kachinas are visualizations and personications. Therefore,
a kachina can represent anything in the natural world (an an-
cestor, an element, a location, a quality, a natural phenom-
enon, or a concept).
Waters (1977:166–167) working with native Hopi White
Bear Fredericks described the Kachina Cults this way:
“The kachinas, then are the inner forms, the spiritual
components of the outer physical forms of life, which may
be invoked to manifest their benign powers so that man may
be enabled to continue his never-ending journey. They are the
invisible forces of life -- not gods, but rather intermediaries,
messengers. Hence their chief function is to bring rain, insuring
the abundance of crops and the continuation of life….
On page 167 Waters continues:
“As their name denotes (ka, respect, and china, spirit) they
are respected spirits: spirits of the dead; spirits of mineral, plant,
bird, animal, and human entities, of clouds, other planets, stars
that have not yet appeared in our sky; spirits of all the invisible
forces of life.”
The basis of the Kachina Cult is the idea of the presence
of life in all objects that ll the universe. Everything has an
essence or a life force, and humans must interact with these
if they are to survive (Wright 2008). Wright (2008) noted that
it is easier to interact with impersonal forces if they are given
life forms and if patterns of reciprocity and mutual obligations
are established. Some archaeological evidence suggests the
Kachina Cult may have originated in Meso-America.
Udall (1992) observed that the appeal of the snake dance
to Euro-Americans extended well beyond academic interests
and entered the American imagination through the ne arts
and popular literature. She suggested the discovery of the
snake dance coincided with America searching for its national
identity. Euro-Americans longed for a noble past and they
© International Society for the History and Bibliography of Herpetology, ISHBH. 2021. www.ishbh.com.
Bibliotheca Herpetologica, Vol. 15(6):46–60. Published online May 13, 2021.

47
adopted the country’s ancient roots that visibly survived in
indigenous American ceremonials like the Hopi snake dance.
Hopi religious rituals are performed on a well-regulated
calendar. They start in August and, in even years, the Snake-
Antelope ceremonies are performed by the Snake and the
Antelope societies. In odd years, the Flute ceremony is
executed by the Blue Flute and Gray Flute societies. Both
events are magical efforts to bring rain as the corn crop is
maturing. In Arizona, July through September is considered a
fth season—the monsoon (Adams and Comrie 1997).
The Hopi rain ceremony lasts nine or sixteen days
depending on who is telling the story; and has multiple
components that vary from mesa to mesa. The last day
includes a diurnal snake washing ritual and a sunset dance-
procession that includes snake handling. The snake dance is
the most photographed, drawn, painted, and written about
indigenous ritual in North America (Whitley 1988; Udall
1992; Waters 1977).
This paper discusses how knowledge of the Hopi snake
dance reached the Euro-American public in the late 19th
century and why it attracted the attention of scientists.
Additionally, we provide a hypothesis on how the Hopi snake
dancers may have reduced the risk of envenomation from
rattlesnakes handled during the ceremony.
The discovery of The snake dance by
euro-americans
Explorer and soldier, Major John W. Powell visited the Hopi
people for two months and wrote about it in Scribner’s Month-
ly (Powell 1875). Powell observed some ceremonies but did
not write about seeing the snake dance, nor does he report
people handling rattlesnakes. Powell’s expedition included
anthropologist and artifact collector Frank Cushing, from the
Smithsonian Institution. Traveling with Powell, Cushing vis-
ited the Hopi, and he may have gained some knowledge of
the snake dance, but this is not at all clear from his writings.
The earliest report in the American press of the Hopi (Mo-
qui) using snakes is questionable. The eminent 20th century rat-
tlesnake authority Laurence Klauber (1932) suggested the Pres-
byterian Messenger of 1881 published the initial article on the
ceremony and he stated the story was simultaneously reprinted
in Edinburgh, New York, and London. However, Udall (1992)
cited Mateer 1879 as the earliest public media report of the event
in a journal titled Masterkey. William R. Mateer was the Indian
Agent for the Hopi between 1877–1879 (Donaldson 1893).
We attempted to locate the rst report of the snake dance
by following Udall’s 1992 suggestion that it was published
in the journal Masterkey in 1879. The Southwest Museum
in Los Angles published a journal by that name, but the rst
issue appeared in 1900. The term Masterkey seems to be
strongly associated with Freemasons but we failed to nd the
article Udall refers to (1992).
Instead, we turned to searching newspapers from 1879
using Newspapers.com, and searching with the words “snake
dance.” The search returned 3,635 articles mentioning snake
or dance, or snake dance. We added the name Mateer and
Fig. 1. The bowl (A) was excavated in the Jeddito Valley in 1901 and
is now in the Southwest Museum. The design on the outside of the
bowl is shown in (B) and it may represent a textile pattern. Parsons
notes the two anthropomorphic gures as being Locust and Snake.
They are patrons of the Flute and Snake societies. The other drawings
in the internal bowl are snakes and insects (probably locust). The
anthropomorphic Snake is holding a snake in his mouth, and Parsons’
suggests the snake’s head is in his mouth.
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48
the search returned 57 articles. [Repeating the search for
1878 yielded 2,744 but adding the name Mateer produced no
results. Repeating the search again for 1880 it yielded 3,475
articles containing snake or dance, adding the name Mateer
reduced the articles to 13, and ve of those were on the Hopi
ceremony, inferring the story broke in 1879. Organizing the
articles by the date of publication the rst newspaper to carry
the story was the St. Louis Globe Democrat on Thursday
September 25 (Fig. 4). The article follows.
W.R. Mateer, Indian Agent of the Moquis Pueblos, of Arizona
gave our reporter, a day ago, a thrilling account of a strange
ceremony practiced by that tribe, called the “Snake Dance.” The
Moquis regard the serpent as a sacred reptile, possessed of the
power of controlling the elements, and disposed to be friendly
to man. They never kill a snake, and frequently handle the most
poisonous serpent with impunity. The rattlesnake is regarded
with special veneration, and their bite is no more dreaded than the
scratch of a mesquit thorn or the pricking of a cactus. They have
an antidote for the bite of a rattlesnake which is infallible, and
never fails to effect a cure in a few minutes when administered
immediately. An Indian of this tribe, when bitten by a rattler,
swallows the antidote at once, and after being stupeed for a
moment becomes entirely restored and never feels any pain or
inconvenience afterwards. All attempts of white men to learn the
ingredients of this antidote have proven futile, as the secret is
guarded with religious delity, and an Indian would lay down
his life rather than communicate the new recipe for snake bites
to a pale face. If a white man is bitten by a rattlesnake the Indians
will not hesitate to give him the antidote, but he must not inquire
what it is composed of.
The Snake Dance
is performed by the Moquis every two years and is resorted to
as a means of propitiating the spirt of the Summer Rain to send
abundant showers to fructify the earth and make the crops grow.
The corn is planted in the moist sand of the mesa, without previous
preparation of the ground, for the plow is unknown to the tribe,
and after it has grown to a certain height and needs moistening
from the clouds, preparations are made for the grand snake dance.
A deep and wide excavation is made in the dirt oor of one of
the largest houses in the village and the whole tribe go out to
hunt snakes. These they catch with their hands, and bring them
in twined around their necks, coiled in their bosoms, or wrapped
around their legs and arms. All kind of snakes are captured -
the rattler, the viper, the moccasin, the blue racer, the black, the
Fig. 2. Walpi, Arizona as photographed by Ansel Adams. US
National Archives.
Fig. 3. A crowd gathered to watch the 1887 snake dance at Walpi on 21 August. Hopi
priests performing the Antelope-Snake Ceremony near the Dance Rock. Photograph
by Ben Wittick.
garter, the green, spotted- in fact, every variety
existing in the country. These to the number of
several hundred are placed in the pit in the oor,
and the mouth?? is covered over with a buffalo
robe, the hairy side down to prevent the reptiles
from crawling out and escaping. Then a certain
number of the old men dance around the pit,
chanting monotonous songs and calling upon the
imprisoned serpents to intercede with the Spirit
of the Clouds to send rain upon the thirsting corn-
elds. A body of younger men next go through
a similar ceremony. Then come the old women,
who have a different chant, then the young
married women, then the boys, and nally the
virgins with their hair done up in loops, and then
for a few moments a solemn silence prevails,
during which the hissing of the serpents and the
shrill sound of their rattles are heard under the
buffalo robe. These sounds are taken as favorable
tokens that the incantations have been successful,
and that a copious fall of rain will follow. Then
the buffalo robe is removed, and then the men
and boys leap into the pit, and each one brings
forth a snake, which he holds in his mouth. As
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49
each man emerges from the pit with his mouth full
of snakes, he runs at full speed down the almost
perpendicular side of the mesa until he comes to the
plain, and there gently releases his captives, who
at once take to the grass and quickly disappear.
After the pit has been emptied the men examine
the wounds on their arms, breasts and faces, and if
blood has been drawn, they know that the fangs of
a rattler have entered their esh, and they lose no
time in applying the antidote.
The wounds inicted by the rattlesnakes are very
painful. The rattler, when provoked, is the most
savage of all serpents, and will continue to strike
and lacerate an enemy as long as he is within reach.
Sometimes an old snake with full grown fangs will
fasten upon the cheek or arm of an Indian and hold
on until the fangs are torn from his jaws, Mr. Mateer
witnessed one of these snake dances of the Moquis
recently, and was horried at the sight. He saw the
blood streaming from the arms and breasts of the
Indians, who bore the pain with stoic indifference,
and seemed to take pleasure in the iniction. They
believe that the more savage the snakes became and
the deeper the wounds inicted the more copious
would be the shower. On the occasion of the last
snake dance the Indians of one of the villages
refused to participate. For some reason they
believed the rain would come without the dance,
and while the other villages were engaged in the
ceremony they sat idly in their houses listening to
the noise and smiling at the unnecessary trouble
their neighbors were taking. Subsequently they
had good cause to repent, for when the rain came
sweeping down from the mountains it poured a
copious ood upon the snake-worshiping villages
and their elds and passed around the heretic village and their
parched corn-elds, leaving them as dry as a powder-horn. The
result was that six of the seven villages raised abundant crops, and
the other had to call on the Agent for Government rations.
Mr. Mateer was formerly a resident of this city and appears to
be a truthful man. He was a spectator of this strange snake dance,
but witnessed it from a safe distance, sitting on a wall overlooking
the scene.
The snake dance drew the attention of scholars and artists
as well as the popular press. Public awareness of the event
rapidly spread across the country. Mateer clearly stated that
the Hopi have an antidote for envenomation, which was
of great interest to the scientic community. This was eight
years prior to Henry Sewall’s (1887) pioneering work with
experimentally immunizing pigeons against rattlesnake venom
and 13 years before Calmette’s (1892) work with cobra venom
and the immunization of horses. And it was 48 years before
the rst commercially available rattlesnake antivenom would
be available in the United States in 1927 (Pucca et al. 2019).
In 1881, U.S. Cavalry ofcer and anthropologist, Lt.
John Gregory Bourke (Fig. 5), traveled with his 15-member
support team from Santa Fe, New Mexico, to the Hopi mesas.
Bourke was on a yearlong leave of absence to conduct an
ethnographic scouting mission. At age 35, Bourke was a
graduate of West Point Military Academy and an experienced
combat veteran. He fought in the Civil War and in two Indian
wars (the Apaches and the Lakotas). Bourke was a diarist,
ethnologist, folklorist, friend of imprisoned Apaches, a
recipient of the congressional Medal of Honor, and throughout
his life, a professional U.S. Army ofcer (Lyon 1982).
In September 1871, Bourke was appointed aide-de-camp
to General George Crook, commanding the Department of
Arizona. Bourke accompanied Crook on trips throughout
the Southwest. They visited the Hopi in October 1874, and
this experience became the basis for Bourke’s rst published
article (Bourke 1874).
From 1875–1882, Crook commanded the Military
Department of the Platte, Omaha, Nebraska, and Bourke
was again Crook’s aide-de-camp. His interest in science
Fig. 4. Oldest News story describing Hopi snake Dance. From the St. Louis Globe
Democrat on Thursday September 25, 1879.
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50
developed during this period when he met members of
the U.S. Geological Survey and the Bureau of Ethnology.
Early in 1881, Bourke requested an assignment to full-
time ethnological studies of the western Indians. General
Philip Henry Sheridan, the Missouri Division commander,
recognized the need to know more about the tribes living
within the area of his command. He gave Bourke orders
on March 26, 1881, to study the Indians south of the Union
Pacic Railroad. Thus, Bourke had the resources of the
military at his disposal to study indigenous tribes. On April
27, 1881, Bourke was at Fort Wingate, New Mexico, and met
Frank Cushing (Lyon 1982). Cushing learned of Bourke’s
research and told the Hopi to allow Bourke to observe the
rain ceremony. Whether Cushing obtained information
about the ceremony while he was with the Hopi, or from the
popular press is unclear. On August 7, 1881, Bourke, artist
Peter Moran, and Bourke’s friend Tom Kearn, traveled to
visit the Hopi villages. They attended the snake dance at
Walpi on August 12. This experience and the Corn Dance at
Santo Domingo formed the basis of Bourke’s rst book, The
Snake-Dance of the Moquis of Arizona. Writing about how he
learned of the snake dance, Bourke (1884:1) stated,
Although vague rumours had from time to time reached me
of the peculiar ceremonies to be noticed among the Moquis, I
had paid but slight attention to them, as they came from mining
prospectors and others of the same genus, who delighted in the
marvelous; and I rst heard with certainty of the rattlesnake-dance
of this strange people from my old friend Mr. William Leonard,
then trader at the Navajo Indian Agency, Fort Deance, Arizona.
Bourke’s (1884) contribution to the knowledge of the Hopi
ritual was the rst detailed description of the snake dance and it
furthered public interest, including that of herpetologists such
as Henry C. Yarrow (Fig. 6), who attended the 1883 dance.
Yarrow (1888a:172) reported seeing two Hopi bitten
by non-venomous snakes during the snake dance. He also
described the Hopi antidote as,
…a pale, dirty-green uid without odor, and slightly bitter
taste, but its composition could not be ascertained, only
two individuals in the tribe knowing how to prepare it. This
preparation is used, mixed with saliva and the charcoal of pinon
Fig. 5. Captain John Gregory Bourke, Circa 1865–1882. Bourke was
the rst to document some of the details of the Hopi dance in 1881. Fig. 6. Henry C. Yarrow, the rst herpetologist to view the Hopi
snake dance and examine a rattlesnake for the condition of its venom
delivery apparatus.
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51
nuts, to smear the bodies of those Indians who
are to participate in the dance, and after it is
nished copious draughts of it are swallowed,
which produce prompt emesis. In case one is
bitten, which happens occasionally, the wound
is immediately sucked, some of the antidote
rubbed into the wound, and a large quantity
swallowed. During the last ten years, in which
period ve dances have occurred, but one
individual has perished from snake bite; and this
is more surprising when the fact is made known
that the salient feature of the dance consists in
the dancer holding one or two rattlesnakes in
the mouth.
There appears to be no comprehensive rst-
hand account directly from Yarrow’s 1883 visit
other than a paper that he read at a meeting and
was discussed by Mindeleff (1886). Thus, we
are mostly dependent on Mindeleff’s (1886)
live snakes, incessantly writhing about which are kept under control
by an Indian waving a bundle of feathers. In the middle of the
estufa stood a clay basin, lled with a pale brown liquid that had an
astringent taste and with a large white seashell, serving as a drinking
bowl, oating on top of it. The liquid was an antidote for snakebite,
which the priests had been drinking for days while fasting…
Ten Kate’s description of the dance differs slightly from
Bourke’s but the differences are to be expected given that
they occurred on different mesas.
Building on the observations of Bourke (1884), J. Walter
Fewkes (1894:85), anthropologist, naturalist, and writer
described his reaction to the snake dance (Fig. 8) as a sight that
… haunted me for weeks afterwards, and I can never forget
this wildest of all the aboriginal rites of this strange people,
Fig. 7. A Hopi snake priest entering the underground kiva where the snakes are held
and the washing ceremony is performed. This image is one of a series of postcards
produced by the Fred Harvey Corporation to promote tourism in the southwest.
description of Yarrow’s presentation except for the comments
Yarrow published (1888a, b). Yarrow attended the dance
at Walpi in 1883 to examine the snakes used in the dance.
He identied four species used in the snake dance, the only
venomous one being “the spotted rattlesnake, or Crotalus
conuentus.”
Yarrow entered an underground room (a kiva) (Fig. 7) on
the eve of the snake dance, found a large rattlesnake being
held for the ceremony, opened its mouth, and found the fangs
were intact. After the dance, two rattlesnakes were captured
and sent to the Smithsonian where physician and snake venom
researcher S. Weir Mitchell examined them and conrmed
Yarrow’s observations—the fangs had not been removed.
Yarrow reported that snakes were washed repeatedly in
“medicine-water” over a ve- or six-day period but that some
snakes captured just hours before the ritual were also used. This
Fig. 8. A Hopi snake priests carrying gopher snakes (Pituophis catenifera) in his mouth.
Photo from the Library of Congress.
led him to suggest that repeated handling was
habituating the snakes to human manipulation.
During the dance Yarrow observed that the
snakes seemed numbed and lifeless but when
dropped on the ground from the dancer’s mouth
they displayed defensive behavior.
The 1883 snake dance was also attended
and reported on by Herman Ten Kate (Hovens
et al. 2004:249–250), a Dutch explorer and
ethnologist. He wrote,
I encountered a row of hideously painted
Indians sitting along the wall in the small oblong,
square room, busily putting the nal touches
to their dance toilette. Above their heads were
suspended eagle feathers, fox hides, rattles,
tortoise shells, and other necessities with which
they, the priests of the Order of the Serpent, will
initiate the dance later. In a corner lay a heap of
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52
which showed no element of our present civilization. It was a
performance which might have been expected in the heart of
Africa rather than in the American Union, and certainly one
could not realize that he was in the United States at the end of
the nineteenth century.
Later in the same article, Fewkes (1894:124) described the
ritual as,
...an elaborate prayer for rain, in which the reptiles are gathered
from the elds, intrusted with the prayers of the people, and then
given their liberty to bear these petitions to the divinities who
can bring the blessing of copious rains to the parched and arid
farms of the Hopi.
Fewkes, a member of the Smithsonian’s Bureau of
American Ethnology, published extensively on the Hopi snake
ritual (Fewkes, 1894, 1895, 1898, 1902). He considered the
snake dance as a serious ancient ritual which survived from
prehistoric times to the present day. In discussions with the
Hopi priests, he realized none of them understood the meaning
of all the details of the dance. It appeared to be an ancient
ceremony culturally passed from one generation to the next
and lled with small changes in knowledge regarding why the
various components exist or what they meant (Fig. 9).
Bourke (1895:193–194) also suspected that snake
ceremonies among North America’s indigenous people were
more widespread than just the Hopi ceremony. He wrote,
Great as has been the work accomplished, it is not yet
perfected. Connection must be established between the Moqui
form of the snake dance and any variants which may exist, as
I am inclined to suspect they do still exist among the people of
Acoma, Sia, Jemez, or Zuñi, as well as among the Mohave and
Apache. It will be of interest to note that the Apaches took me
to their sacred caves in the Pinal range and the Sierra Ancha,
and on the way we stopped at and prayed to stone heaps exactly
like those described by Dr. Fewkes (p. 41). In these caves the
Apaches showed me phallic symbols in stone and pointed out
where their medicine-men stood with naked feet and danced
about among rattlesnakes. They also asserted that their medicine-
men would take little rattlesnakes in their mouths and swallow
them. Incredible as this may seem, it is strictly in line with what
has been related of the Aztecs by early Spanish authors.
Not all ceremonial attendees were interested in the origins
and meaning of the snake dance. An observer at the 1885 snake
dance wrote, “So ended the snake dance, and a more revolting
exhibition of savagery (Canabalism [sic] not excepted) does
not mar the face of history.” (Anonymous 1885).
Fig. 9. Hopi snake dance ceremony based on a painting from E. Irving Couse. This is a postcard from the Fred Harvey Corporation to promote
tourism in the southwest.
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53
hopi snake handling
As word of the snake dance spread, interest grew. Including
the question: do the Hopi know something about snake bite
treatment that Euro-American science does not? Did they
discover an efcacious treatment for snake envenomation?
Mindeleff (1886:12) comments on Yarrow’s interview
with a snake priest after a dance. Yarrow showed the man
a syringe full of potassium permanganate. (At the time this
was considered a treatment for snake envenomation.) The
Hopi replied, “No doubt my brother’s medicine is good, but
we are quite satised with our own.” Mindeleff (1886) also
quotes a letter from a Mr. Trumble (Science vii, June 4) who
proposed the snakes are overfed prior to the dance making
them lethargic and less likely to bite.
Rejecting the idea that the snakes were drugged, Voth
(1903:341–342) proposed the following.
While I do not pretend to be able to fully explain the matter, I
offer the following suggestions: (1) The repeated handling of the
snakes undoubtedly makes them more or less gentle. There is no
question but what the priests are more afraid of the snakes when
they rst capture them than later. One of them, in explaining to
me the details of the snake hunt, emphasized the fact that they
at once commence to ‘’tame” them by careful handling and by
slowly stroking them, and when I asked him why so very seldom
one was bitten by any snake, he said he could only explain it by
the careful handling of the snakes. He said they never hurt the
snakes and hence the latter became used to them and were not
afraid of them. He compared the case with that of a wild pony,
which, when rst caught, would “kick, bite, and jump,” but when
repeatedly and carefully handled would become gentle; (2) The
snakes, being often touched by the points of the snake whips,
become used to seeing objects over themselves and to being
touched by them, and hence do not nd it so strange when a hand
reaches towards or touches them. It must be added, however, that
if this point explains anything, it does so to a limited extent only,
as snakes are brought in even up to the last days, which from the
very nature of the case have been handled but very little; (3) The
principal explanation, therefore, does not, I believe, lie in the
frequency of the handling, but rather in the manner in which it
is done. I have again and again seen the snakes picked up in the
kivas and on the plazas, put into and taken out of the jars, jugs,
and bags, not only in Oraibi, but in all the other villages, by the
old experienced priests as well as by the novices, but only very
seldom have I seen one reach after or grasp a reptile with a quick,
jerking, hesitating movement of the hand, and even on those few
occasions the snakes were generally trying to get away, at least
they were not in a proper position to strike when taken. Under
ordinary circumstances the movement of the hand, in trying to
take a snake is slow, gentle, but sure and unhesitating. I saw old,
half-blind Nuva-kwahu reach towards several snakes, that with
heads raised and drawn back, were watching the approaching
hand, and that probably would have struck, since they were at
least partly coiled, had they noticed the least twitching or jerking
motion of the hand; (4) Never, at any time, have I seen even
the most experienced member of the Fraternity try to take a
snake when the reptile was entirely coiled up. They seem to be
convinced, and in fact have told me, that a rattlesnake does not
strike unless entirely coiled up or at least nearly so. If a snake
does coil up it is invariably rst induced to uncoil by waving the
snake whip over it.
Few outsiders have been able to observe a Hopi snake
hunt and those that have were on unsuccessful hunts. In his
Appendix 1, Klauber (1932:68) considered the only rsthand,
eyewitness account of a successful Hopi snake hunt to be that
reported in a newspaper article by Stephen and Messinger
(1889:9), who wrote,
Presently they (Snake priests) broke into groups of two and
three and began cautiously to, peer and poke among rocks and
bushes for the snake mother’s children. In a short time a low call
came from a man who was thrusting his stick into a dense clump
of greasewood, and as the hunters gathered there it was found to
be a large rattlesnake lying in the heart of the thicket. Without
hesitation they at once proceeded to cut away the bushes with,
their hoes, and strangely enough, although the snake lay in coil
and watched them, it made no rattling or other display of anger.
One of the twigs fell upon it, and the man nearest stooped down
and deliberately lifted the branch away.
Each one then sprinkled a pinch of meal upon the snake, and
the man who had found it bent over and rapped it lightly with the
feathers of his snake-whip. It swayed its head a little and then
straightened out to make off, but just as it relaxed from coil, the
hunter, using the right hand, in which he held his snake-whip,
instantly seized it a few inches back of the head. Holding it out,
he gave it quick shake, and then proceeded to fold it up, and put
it in one of the small bags carried for this purpose, showing no
more concern in its handling than if it had been a ribbon.
However, in the body of his paper, Klauber (1932:19)
suggested the snakes are handled with more care prior to the
washing. He wrote,
When a snake has been found, it is picked up immediately
behind the head if outstretched; or, if it coils and shows ght,
it is teased and brushed with one of the feathered snake-wands
until it uncoils and attempts to escape, whereupon with great
quickness it is seized behind the head and handled in a safe
manner. The catches are deposited in the snake bags carried for
the purpose. Many hunts result fruitlessly for numbers of the
priests engaged, a situation which will gain the sympathy of the
eld herpetologist.
The snake priests were very secretive regarding how they
captured rattlesnakes. Fewkes (1895) called the chief snake
priest’s attention to a hole into which he had seen a rattler take
refuge, but the chief would not dig it out “in my presence, so
avoiding envenomaTion While dancing WiTh raTTlesnakes

54
carefully do they preserve this one feature of the ceremony,
the capture of the reptiles in the open.”
On Saturday, August 15, 1931 Laurence Klauber and his
son Phillip left California for the 1931 Hopi Snake ceremony
at Mishongnovi on Second Mesa. By Saturday evening they
were in Williams, Arizona, and left town by 8AM Sunday
headed for the Grand Canyon where they met herpetologist
Charles Bogert and Grand Canyon National Park naturalist
Edwin McKee.
Based upon his experience and the literature, Klauber
(1932) published a detailed report and analysis on the Hopi
snake dance. He estimated the number of people attending
the 1931 dance was about 750. He also identied four
species of snakes used during the ceremony. Conrming
Yarrow’s observations, he found only one was venomous,
Crotalus conuentus (now Crotalus viridis). In addition to
the rattlesnake, Klauber conrmed the use of the gopher
snake, Pituophis catenifer, and the whipsnake, Masticophis
taeniatus. Klauber suspected the fourth species was the
Glossy Snake (Arizona elegans) but could not conrm it
because it was seen at a distance.
The snake priests perform a dance and procession with
many of them holding snakes several inches behind the head
(giving the snake an opportunity to bite) or they hold them
in their mouths at mid body. Again, giving the snake an
opportunity to bite. Klauber summarized ten bites reported
by observers of the dance. Klauber (1932:19) did not directly
observe the Hopi catching snakes but based upon the literature
and descriptions from some of the snake priests, he wrote,
Not only are snakes taken where found resting in the shade
under bushes, but likewise a denite effort is made to secure
them by following their tracks, and the Snake priests work
energetically in excavating holes into which tracks give
evidence that snakes have sought refuge. These excavations are
made with Indian digging sticks, or more often in recent years
with hoes; these tools can be used for no other purpose during
the ceremony. Dorsey and Voth (1902, p. 183) observed that the
Indians apparently had no fear in plunging their hands to the
bottom of holes which were presumed to contain snakes.
Following this, Klauber (1932:20) writes,
All observers agree that there is incautious (but not
inconsiderate) handling of snakes within the kiva during these days
of ceremony. Both rattlers and harmless species, when at liberty,
roam about amongst the priests and have little or no attention paid
to them. During certain of the rites they are herded to one side,
usually by means of the snake-wands. When it is necessary to
handle them, as, for instance, when they are returned to the jars,
or during the nal washing ceremony, no effort seems to be made
to manipulate the rattlers safely by holding them immediately
behind the head; on the contrary they are picked up quite at
random. One photograph of the washing ceremony demonstrates
denitely that the rattlers are not grasped behind the head.”
Klauber observed that the snakes seemed to have little
energy when dropped, sometimes violently. They would just
try to escape and not display the very distinctive rattlesnake
defensive behavior. Eventually, all the snakes are thrown into
a single pile by the dancers and the snakes can move away
in all directions. The snakes are then gathered up, the dance
ends, and the snakes are released in the desert.
Mateer’s statement about a Hopi antidote was investigated
by Coleman (1928). He secured a pint of the antidote and
stored the mixture in a refrigerator for two months. Then
tested it with dried rattlesnake venom and guinea pigs.
He found it totally ineffective. That said, the experimental
methods used would be questioned today.
Photographer Edwin Curtis (1922) suggested the fangs
were removed and, in fact, Bogert (1933, 1941) collected
a specimen released after a dance and sent it to Klauber
for inspection. Klauber found it did indeed have its fangs
removed—a change from what Yarrow and Mitchell
(Mindeleff 1886) had previously found. Yet the main
conclusion in Klauber’s (1932) paper was that the snakes
were habituated to handling and the Hopi were skilled at
handling them. The same conclusion was reached by Yarrow.
Observations of the Hopi snake dance post-Klauber were
discussed by writer Frank Waters. Waters lived with several
indigenous societies and wrote about them in both novels and
non-ction works (Kishbaugh 2017). In his Book of the Hopi,
Waters (1977) describes a 16-day Chu’tiva (snake dance) by
the Snake-Antelope Ceremony using descriptions related to
him by participants and observers and is second hand but
provide the Hopi perspective on the ritual.
The snakes are collected over four days, each day the
hunters move in one of the four cardinal compass directions
(west, south, east, and north – in that order) in search of
snakes. Waters informant on snake gathering was a Hopi
named Watchful Bee. The hunters carried a jar of water, corn
meal, and a kwάwicki. The kwάwicki is two vulture feathers
tied together. Watchful Bee was told by his grandfather that
the feathers have gray spots on them that have a strange odor
and the power to calm an angry snake. If a snake is coiled the
feathers are waved at the snake causing it to become calm
and uncoil at which time it can be picked up.
Watchful Bee was afraid of nding a rattlesnake knowing
they are venomous, but he was told he should collect a
rattlesnake on the rst day rather than a far more dangerous
bullsnake that could suck the life out of a man’s body. A
statement like this seems to be a condence building strategy
on the part of the snake priests.
The account continues with Watchful Bee collecting a
racer that was dug out of a rodent burrow. The snake was
blessed with corn meal but became agitated and struck at
Watchful Bee. He held the snake behind the head, spat in the
hand not holding the snake and brushed the snake with his
hand. The snake went limp.
The snakes were held in the kiva, and Watchful Bee
noted the Snake Chiefs smoked in the room every night.
John c. murphy and michael d. cardWell

55
The snakes were held in jars covered with
buckskin perforated with holes. In the evening
the snakes were fed corn pollen.
Watchful Bee reports that about midnight
the Snake chiefs returned to snake kiva for deep
concentration, a blessing, and entertaining
the snakes. Waters added a footnote to pages
221–223 that states that the fangs are not
extracted, nor are the venom glands emptied.
He comments on bites that occur without
any effects, because snake dances take a
mixture of chu’knga as snake medicine. Some
is taken orally, and some is rubbed on their
hands before going snake hunting. If a bite
occurs in the kiva it is rubbed on the wound.
The mixture is made from the leaves of the
hohoyawnga (stinkbug plant), the root of the
chu’si (snake ower), and leaves of the plant
chu’őqwpi (snake vertebrae). The plant parts
are boiled in water and then blessed.
The Hopi perspective on rattlesnake bites
is that they only occur when the snake senses
fear or anger from humans and that snakes
will only bite when they are coiled (Stephen
and Messinger 1889; Klauber 1932; Waters
1977).
croTalus viridis and iTs venom
The rattlesnakes used by the Hopi are part
of the Western Rattlesnake Complex (WRC;
Davis 2016), a diverse assemblage of closely
related rattlesnakes occupying nearly all the
United States west of the 100th Meridian.
Throughout the 19th century, numerous specimens were
collected by mostly military expeditions to the American
West and shipped to the Smithsonian Institution where they
were sorted, described, and named. The rst documented
WRC rattlesnake was collected in “the Upper Missouri”
and described in 1818 by C. S. Ranesque. For more than a
century thereafter, biologists added specimens and classied,
named, and renamed the various forms.
Four years after witnessing the Hopi snake dance in 1931,
Klauber described a new “stunted subspecies” in the WRC
from the area as the Arizona Prairie Rattlesnake, Crotalus
conuentus nuntius. Describing his selection of the
subspecic epithet, he wrote, “Nuntius, the messenger. In the
Hopi Snake Ceremonial, these snakes are used as messengers
to gods of the underworld” (Klauber 1935).
Compared to 1,900 specimens of the nominate form,
conuentus conuentus, the 200 specimens of the form
he named nuntius were smaller in size, reddish-brown in
coloration, and had lower dorsal and ventral scale counts,
suggesting that subspecic designation was warranted
(Klauber 1935).
Eventually, Klauber synonymized the two specic
epithets widely used within the WRC, conuentus and
viridis, as viridis (Klauber 1936). By 1956, he recognized
nine subspecies, including Crotalus viridis nuntius (Klauber
1956). But as the 21st century dawned, new genetic studies
revealed a clear evolutionary divergence between eastern and
western lineages, separated by the continental divide. As a
result, all but two forms of the WRC were renamed Crotalus
oreganus, leaving the eastern lineage comprised of only
Crotalus viridis nuntius (Fig. 10a) and Crotalus viridis viridis
(Fig. 10b).
In the rst edition of his tome Rattlesnakes, Klauber
(1956) continued use of the common name Arizona Prairie
Rattlesnake. But in the same year, Conant and his committee
of nomenclature experts published the common name
“Hopi Rattlesnake” for Crotalus viridis nuntius (Conant et
al. 1956) without stating their rationale. Hopi Rattlesnake
was immediately adopted by other authorities, including by
Klauber in the second edition of Rattlesnakes (1972), and is
universally used for this rattlesnake today.
We note that Klauber found classication of Crotalus
viridis from the Little Colorado River drainage problematic,
Fig. 10. A. Crotalus viridis nuntius and B. Crotalus viridis viridis. Michael Cardwell and
Daniel Massey.
avoiding envenomaTion While dancing WiTh raTTlesnakes

56
complicated by the fact that the Hopi often brought in
rattlesnakes for the snake dance from areas distant to the
reservation. Klauber (1935) observed both subspecies in
the snake dance. Despite the transport of snakes from areas
away from the reservation activity, Klauber indicated that
individuals from the San Juan drainage area in northeastern
Arizona were C. v. viridis. He (Klauber, 1930) stated that
specimens typical of conuentus (= C. v. viridis) were
captured “…as far westward as the Santa Fe’s branch line
to the Grand Canyon” (at Williams, Arizona, about 52 km
west of Flagstaff). This is not the only example of the Hopi
transporting reptile resources used in the snake dance;
Bettelheim (2020) found the Hopi obtained Western Pond
Turtles from California and used their shells as rattles.
The venom of the nine historic subspecies that previously
comprised the WRC (C. oreganus = 7 and C. viridis = 2)
were investigated by Mackessy (2010). He found that C.
v. nuntius and C. v. viridis have the second and third most
toxic venoms, respectively, based on lethality studies in
mice. Crotalus v. nuntius venom contains high levels of
tissue-destroying metalloproteinases, moderate levels of
myotoxins, and no PLA2 neurotoxin. But the venom yield of
C. v. nuntius was found to be the smallest of the group, which
is not surprising, because it is the smallest animal and venom
yield varies exponentially with length. Saviola et al. (2015)
described 175 bites by C. viridis in Colorado over a period
of four years with no fatalities, suggesting death from this
species is unlikely with access to modern medicine.
Although the story may be different without modern
medicine, lethality (LD50) studies in mice have not always
translated well to people. For example, initial mouse studies
indicated that CroFabTM antivenom was signicantly less
efcacious against C. oreganus helleri (southern Pacic
rattlesnake) venom than the venom from other rattlesnakes
(Protherics 2000), yet subsequent clinical experience
demonstrated otherwise (Bush et al. 2002). And mouse
LD50 studies have repeatedly indicated that neurotoxic
(venom-A) Mohave rattlesnakes (C. scutulatus) are one of
the deadliest rattlesnakes yet human deaths are rare despite
many annual bites (summarized by Cardwell 2020). With
the limited distribution of the Hopi rattlesnake and relatively
few recorded human bites, characterization of the sequelae of
bites in humans remains challenging.
snakes and Tobacco
Herpetologists have proposed that the Hopi avoid
envenomation by cautious handling, habituation to handling,
extraction of fangs, and drugging the snakes. Sedating snakes
has been mentioned but no one seems to have discussed the
substance used or the details. The obvious strategy that seems
to have been overlooked or outright rejected is exposing the
snakes to tobacco in multiple ways.
In the very rst articles describing the snake dance
(Anonymous 1879; Mateer 1879) William Mateer speculated
about the snakes being “stupeed” during the snake dance.
Bourke (1884:178) noted the kivas, where the snakes were
kept, were lled with tobacco smoke as the dancers prepared
for the performance. He (Bourke 1884:259) further notes
that tobacco is used in religious ceremonies of all southwest
Indians. This is documented by a photograph Waters (1977:
photos between pages 190–191, third to the last image)
provided a photograph of two snake priests in the kiva sitting
near the snake altar and two pipes are visible in the foreground.
This may be the best photographic evidence of smoking in
the kiva associated with the snake dance ceremonial.
Fewkes (1898) discussed the snake washing ceremony
that occurs about noon on the day of the snake dance. The
dance occurs at sunset. He observed the ritual four times
(Fewkes 1891, 1893, 1895, 1897). The snake washing is
performed by the priests in a kiva. The following are relevant
observations from Fewkes (1898:315–318).
After all of the priests were seated, except a few in charge of
the bag of snakes and two or three lads who stood in the middle
of the kiva back of the line of seated men, the Snake chief made
symbols of sacred men on a hillock of sand before him. Upon
the hillock he then deposited a large earthen wash bowl, such
as is used in bathing the head, and poured liquid into this bowl
from the north, west, south, and east sides, following a sinistral
ceremonial circuit. Pinches of sacred meal were then dropped
into the liquid, rst on the north side, then on the west, south,
and east, adding two more. One for the above and another for
the below. The chief then took from his mouth a fragment of
chewed root and dropped it also into the bowl. All remained
silent during these acts, and soon a lighted pipe was passed
from one to another of the priests, beginning with the chief,
who puffed great clouds of tobacco smoke into the liquid and
to the cardinal points in the prescribed circuit.
Soon after the priests began to sing, I noticed that the man
with the bag of reptiles handed the snakes to the chief and his
neighbors, and that they plunged the reptiles into the bowl
before them, later depositing the snakes on the sand covering
the oor. While this transpired the singers kept on with their
songs and other snakes were handed to the chief, who plunged
into the liquid and placed them on the sand. The oor enclosed
by the row of sitting priests was soon covered with a mass of
writhing reptiles, and rapidly moving species darting from one
end to the other of the sanded area, the rattlers, which move in a
more deliberate way, extending themselves at length or coiling
for defense….
It has been suggested that the liquid is a stupefying
compound into which they are introduced to render them more
tractable when carried on the plaza a few hours after. I nd no
good evidence that such is the object of the washing, nor do I
believe that any means are adopted to stupefy them….
The Snake washing at Miconinovi, and the same may
probably be said of that at Oraibi, Cipaulovi, and Cunopavi,
is a tame affair as compared with that at Walapi, which has
John c. murphy and michael d. cardWell

57
always seemed to me the most fearless episode of the Snake
dance. When the snakes are removed from the jars, at the
last pueblo, the Snake men fearlessly plunge their hands into
receptacles lled with reptiles, any one of which might strike
them…I have witnessed the Walapi Snake washing four times
I have never seen one of the men bitten.
The effects of tobacco (Solanaceae) have been well
studied in humans but relatively few studies have examined
the impact of tobacco smoke or a tobacco tea (tobacco
leaves soaked in water) on snakes. Nicotine is the primary
psychoactive compound associated with tobacco (Perkins et
al. 1994). The oral and dermal toxicity of nicotine and other
chemicals to the Brown Tree Snake (Boiga irregularis) was
evaluated by Brooks et al. (1998). Nicotine produced 100%
mortality when applied dermally at a dose of 40 mg/kg. This
implies that snakes are extremely sensitive to nicotine. For
comparison purposes the nicotine per cigarette is about 8
mg, while total nicotine per cigar ranged from 5.9 to 335.2
mg. Nicotine concentrations ranged from 10.3–19.1 mg/g in
small cigar tobacco but average concentrations (12.6 mg/g)
were lower than those in cigarettes (19.2 mg/g) (Henningeld
et al. 1999; Benowitz et al. 2006; Lawler et al. 2017).
Burning tobacco produces not only the smoke inhaled
and then exhaled by the smoker, but also a side stream of
unltered tobacco smoke coming directly off the cigarette
or pipe bowl. The exhaled smoke is second-hand smoke,
while the side stream smoke has not been ltered through the
lungs. Nonsmokers exposed to secondhand smoke had hair
nicotine levels comparable to active smokers (Al-Delaimy et
al. 2001; Dimich-Ward et al. 1997; Okoli 2007). The point is
that Hopi priests preparing snakes for handling in the kiva are
exposing the snakes to nicotine via the respiratory system and
most likely through their skin via the “medicine water” used
during the washing ceremony.
The broadly dened Hopi theory of medicine and its use
of charms to inuence gods, men, and animals or to cure an
upset stomach was discussed by Hough (1898). These charms
are all plant-based and Hough provides a list of about 40
plants used for everything from growing hair to stimulating
childbirth. Of all the plants used by the Hopi, Hough only
considered two species of tobacco to be narcotics. The Hopi
gather and sometimes grow Coyote Tobacco, Nicotiana
attenuata and Desert Tobacco, N. trigonophylla (Adams et
al. 2015). There are at least six species of tobacco native to
Arizona. A seventh invasive species, Tree Tobacco, Nicotiana
glauca, is thought to have been present only during the last
century and there is no evidence the Hopi use this species.
The Hopi mix one of two native tobacco species together
with other plants to produce yoyviva (rain tobacco) and
ommawviva (cloud tobacco)—the association of smoke with
clouds and rain (Malotki and Gary 2006:xxxviiii) is obvious.
The cloud tobacco is a mixture of wild tobacco, corn pollen,
yellow feathers, and other plant material (Winter, 2000).
The rain tobacco is a mixture of Mullein, Verbascum sp.
(Scrophularieae); Purple Sage, Salvia dorrii (Labiatae); and
Giant Trumpets, Onosmodium thurberi (now Lithospermum
macromeria) (Boraginaceae) and tobacco to create sacred
tobacco thought to be more effective in producing rain. All
these plants have compounds that effect the nervous system
(Baricevic and Bartol 2005). However, Moerman (1986)
reports Verbascum and a related species, Salvia carnosa,
contain anticonvulsant, while Onosmodium thurberi is
considered by the Hopi a cure for witches, ts, and mental
illness.
In Fewkes’ account (1898:315–318; quoted above), he
observed the chief was chewing a root that was added to the
water, and that the men all blew tobacco smoke into the water.
Voth also studied the Hopi at the turn of the 20th century and
made observations that suggest tobacco smoke was used to
drug the snakes. This is evidence contrary to what he said in
the quote above. He (Voth 1903:292) wrote,
If a reptile refuses to uncoil, the party or parties sit down near
it and begin to smoke, blowing the smoke toward it. Should
a certain party absolutely fail to take such a coiled snake, he
infers that his “heart is not good,” and that the snake is angry.
Another man is then called to try the experiment, and if he
fails, another one, etc.
In a footnote, Voth (1903:293) commented, “I have
never seen the individual hunter take tobacco and pipes
with them, but this smoking towards a rebellious reptile has
been mentioned to me several times.” Like Bourke, Voth
(1903:289) also describes the chief snake priests and other
men smoking in the snake kiva during the ceremonial days
leading up to the dance where the snakes collected for the
snake dance are housed. He also contradicts himself, on
page 286 where he specically states the chief priest carries
tobacco and pipes on the snake hunt.
The chief priest carries in a bundle, a pouch with tobacco,
some pipes, and some food ─ especially piki. All are attired in
a common kilt and moccasins, the body decoration consisting
of a pinkish spot on the lower and upper leg, lower and upper
arm, forehead, and on each side of the sternum and the spine.
There is another plant possibly involved in altering the
snakes’ behavior. The Hopi chew the Basin Bladderpod
(Lesquerella cinerea) during the snake ceremony. It is
chewed and spit out. There appears to be no evidence it
contains psychoactive molecules (Voth 1903:286). However,
the Western Jimson Weed, Datura wrightii, does contains a
hallucinogen (scopolamine) and the Hopi are known to chew
its root (Whiting 1939; Colton 1974). Confusion about which
plant was being used during the ceremony cannot be ruled
out.
The suggestion that fangs were removed was previously
discussed. Bogert and Klauber found a snake that did indeed
have its fangs removed—a change from what Yarrow and
avoiding envenomaTion While dancing WiTh raTTlesnakes

58
Mitchell had previously found. Snake handlers the world
over have a variety of strategies for avoiding envenomation.
Some simply assume the risk of being bitten, some habituate
the snake to handling reducing the risk of a bite; yet others,
who are more cautious, alter the snakes by removing fangs,
plugging fangs with wax, or sewing the mouth closed
(Buckland 1899; Villiers 1975; Minton and Minton 1980).
Considering the Hopi’s extensive knowledge of medicinal
plants, the observations of Fewkes and Klauber suggesting
the snakes appeared drugged (stupeed), and the lack of
caution taken by the snake priest during the dance (holding
snakes insecurely and holding them in their mouths) and
tobacco use in the kiva for a period of days prior to the ritual,
suggests to us the snakes were under the inuence of nicotine
poisoning. The observations of Bogert and Klauber of snakes
used in the 1933 snake dance provides evidence that some
performers took the extra precaution of removing the fangs
and may represent one of the variations in the ritual between
villages and performers as noted by Whiteley (1988).
So, is there a way to test for the presence of nicotine in
the water used by the Hopi during the washing ceremony?
Yarrow obtained a sample of the liquid used during the
washing ritual after the 1883 dance and Mindeleff (1886)
stated that it is in the army medical museum. Recent attempts
to locate Yarrow’s sample have been unsuccessful.
Tobacco use is widespread in cultures around the
world. Archeological evidence suggest the Maya were
using tobacco in the rst century BC in sacred ceremonies
(Goodman 2005). Therefore, its use by the Hopi to intoxicate
rattlesnakes seems a possibility and when combined with
other precautions (habituating the snakes to handling and
fang removal) to avoid bites the dancers reduced their overall
risk of envenomation.
In summary, previous literature on the snake dance is
unclear when and how news of the ritual was discovered by
Euro-Americans. Klauber (1932) suggested the news broke
in 1881 in the Presbyterian Messenger and Udall (1992)
suggest the story was rst released in a publication called
Masterkey in 1879. Udall’s article suggests a former Indian
Agent for the Hopi, William Mateer, released the story in
1879. We were unable to locate the publications Masterkey
or the Presbyterian Messenger discussed in earlier literature.
Using newspaper archives, we can conrm that William
Mateer did report the story to the press in 1879, the oldest
article was dated September 25 and appeared in the St. Louis
Globe Democrat. Hypotheses suggesting how the Hopi
avoided envenomation by rattlesnakes during the ceremonial
dance included: removal of fangs, habituating the snakes
to handling, and drugging the snakes. Most of the authors
writing about this concluded that habituation to handling
was used to avoid envenomation. We suggest that the snakes
were saturated with nicotine via the respiratory systems and
absorbed nicotine via their skin when they were washed with
medicine water. This treatment poisoned the snakes so that
it was unlikely dancers would be bitten. However, there is at
least one documented case of the fangs being removed from
the snake.
acknoWledgemenTs
The authors thank Christopher Bell for drawing our attention
to the Ten Kate translation (Hovens 2004). We also thank
two anonymous reviewers whose suggestions improved the
manuscript.
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We suggest the following format for citing this article:
Murphy, J. C. and Michael D. Cardwell 2021. Avoiding Envenom-
ation While Dancing with Rattlesnakes, the Hopi Snake Ritual and
Tobacco.
Bibliotheca Herpetologica 15(6):46–60.