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Show " Ttf UNSCIENTIFIC SCIENTIST San Diego Exposition, July 29, 1914. Il , Dear Herb: Have you heard about our In- jdlans (note the our)? We've got a bunch of them HL in tlie Painted Desert that the Santa Fo is H ,Lulldlng in the Isthmus. Not the regular Isthmus, tyou know, but the "Isthmus" at the San Dtego H? Exposition. It's the amusement street lots more B fun than the regular Isthmus. j Well, I went out to see poor Lo n the Paint- BJ ed Desert the other day and was formally Intro B duced to the chief, Napeshneeduta. (Red-Man-Who- B Flees'Not), and to some of his braves. I strugr B gled to entertain him with airy persiflage, but B. he gazed at me stolidly and didn't seem to ap- fl predate my efforts. I thought maybe he was B; human enough to be interested in his own af- B fairs bo I asked him how many squaws he had B, it seems to me that they have polygamous tend- B, encies but he just looked at me disgustedly and B grunted, "No sabe. No speak English." B Fleeing that my intellectual sweetness was be- B ! ing wasted on the desert heir, I turned to the B guide and very frankly expressed my views on B Indians in general. I showed him a copy of a B , local paper containing a write-up about these par- B ticular ones. Pie glanced at it and then handed B it to Mr. Red-Man-Who-Flees-Not. Five minutes B later I glanced at Mr. Red-Man-Who-Flees-iNot B and ho was still earnestly scrutinizing the paper. B "I thought you couldn't understand English," i remarked. His reply was somewhat disconcert- B ing: "I can't. But I can read it." Bk Casually I sidled toward the exit, while the B "' guide explained that Mr. Red-Man-Who-FleesNot B ' is a graduate of Harvard. H Wo walked around the pueblo and later came H upon one of the braves whom I had met. He was sitting in the shade of an adobe hut industrious- H : ly reading that same paper. I noticed that !t was B . up-side down. B '.$ "For the love of Mike! Look at that over- B grown child pretending to read that paper," I Hl exclaimed to the guide. "What are you reading Bh' about that's so interesting, Mr. Rain-in-the-Faco?" The gentleman in question looked at me sadly and remarked. "I read here, Mr. Scotty, where every man he 'tend to his own damn business." The deuce of associating with Indians is that "you never can tell till you've tried 'em. Ana then you're like to be wrong!" This fellow who bosses the Indians says they are going to perform their ceremonial rites and dances whatever that is. Maybe the next batch of red men will include some bearcat dancers, but these look to me more like sitters. There are many other interesting features about the desert, but I guess they'll keep till my next letter. let-ter. Yours for the noble white man, SOOTTY. P. S. Cut out the our in the first paragraph. They're only loaned to us, I've since discovered. |