(The Chisera produces the sticks from her medicine bag, and hands them to one of the Old Men. To each of the others who will dance with her (two or three) she gives a fetish from her bag. They have already put on appropriate headdresses and are prepared for dancing. She motions the rattles to begin. Behind her are the Old Men, with the drums and rattles; on each side, the Fighting Men seated on the ground. The dance begins, the Chisera singing. The Old Men keep up a crooning accompaniment; from time to time the Fighting Men join the singing and exhibit a growing excitement as the dance progresses. At intervals, one and another of them, leaps to his feet and joins the dance. At the last, the Chisera, whirling rapidly, falls to the ground. Instantly the rattles are stopped, and the people wait in suspense the word of the gods. The women are seen to steal up through the toyon bushes. The Chisera lifts herself slowly on one elbow, as if waking from a drugged sleep. She stretches out her hand for the sacred sticks. She drops them with a quick turn of the wrist, gathers them up and drops them again, seeking for an augury. She throws up the arm with the medicine stick and begins to chant.)
The Chisera
The bows of Castac shall be broken.
The bowstring shall break asunder.
The bows of thy foes shall be broken and the vultures come to the battle.
(Excitement and confusion.)
Indians
The omen, the omen! the war leader!
The Chisera
(Chanting)
The Maker of Arrows shall lead you.
He that makes arrows of eagles' feathers,
Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, he shall lead you,
Simwa shall break the bows of Castac.
Tribesmen
Simwa!