Red Rock
August 18, 1932
Dear Emily,
Yesterday morning an errand took me to the trading
post and I was tempted, as always to linger, to watch, and listen
while the trader did business with the Indians.
The Navajos seldom have money with which to buy the
trader's wares but trade on credit from the sheep, wool, pelts, blankets
and silver. Their jewelry is generally pawned during the winter and
redeemed in the spring when wool is sheared, or in the fall when their
lambs are sold.
Trading, with the Navajos, is a serious matter not
to be hastily done, and the trader consequently has developed a matchless
patience in dealing with them. I love to stand in the corner and
watch the groups waiting to trade or stopping to gossip. In the winter
time they gather around the stove in the corner of the long store, in the
summer find seats on the benches before the big windows. The affairs of
the reservation are here discussed and no trivial happening of local interest
is overlooked or neglected. I have found no better way of getting
news of patients than to let Timothy spend some time amongst the loiterers
at the the post. I am always interested in the Indian's love of his
jewelry and am happy with him when he redeems his pawn nd swaggers amongst
his fellows adorned with silver and turquoise rings and bracelets, handsome
conchos and strings of wampum and coral. Our trader is generously
inclined to hold these prized possessions for them long after their pawn
is legally "dead."
Next to the fascinating rows of pawned jewelry I love
the rug room where stacks and stacks of "blankets" proclaim the industry
of our weavers.
When I went home I was followed shortly by a young
Medicine man who, though quite reserved and shy, has shown decided symptoms
of friendliness. He spent hours in my rooms, evidently interested
in many of my possessions, had 
lunch
with me and finally disclosed the purpose of his visit. He told Timothy
that he recognized my interest in his sings and ceremonies and wished to
invite me to see a sand painting he was to do the following Sunday for a
patient who lived about forty miles away.
Endeavoring to emulate the politeness which is so marked
a characteristic of the Navajo, I accepted the invitation, and Sunday morning
accordingly found us traversing a bump road to the distant hogan.
There we were cordially received by my friend and his brother medicine
man and taken into the hogan to see the sand painting which had just been
completed. To my surpass and old man pointed out various figures
for us, explaining their identity and significance. When the ceremony
was about to begin, the patient, 
to whom I was a stranger, obviously objected
to my presence, so hastily expressing my admiration for the sand painting
I departed. My friend followed me from the hogan with an invitation
to return to subsequent paintings, of which there were to be three in this
series.
On the third day I returned, and this time I went armed
with my medicine bag, in response to a request on my last visit, and was
amused to find myself holding a small clinic outside the hogan for the
medicine men, patients and guests. The medicine men frequently stop
at my dispensary on their way to or from sings to ask for "khosaze" (cough
medicine), and when one hears them sing for days and nights on
end the
reason is readily understood--a soothing throat remedy must be a welcome.
In visiting hogans I am invariably impressed by the
happy home life I find therein. Except where there is extreme illness,
entire families gather to enjoy visitors, and laughter and good natured
joking are much enjoyed. The children, though usually shy, seldom
cry and always submit to necessary treatment much more readily than most
of the small white patients
I have known, and once they decide to make friends they do so in
whole-hearted fashion. Their affection for one another isevidenced
in many ways and the feeling between parents and children is as obvious
and tender as I have ever seen. I am, of course, interested in the
amicability existing between the several wives and families of the older
men. These wives are not infrequently sisters, and never but once
or twice have I found evidence of jealousy between them. Usually
each wife has her own hogan, though I have seen two living in the same
hogan at times.
As in other communities the world over, there occurs
an occasional family row, usually precipitated by jealousy between husband
and wife, but the atmosphere of the home is generally good natured and
happy and dominated by characteristic Navajo politeness.
