near the railroad stations. A traveler
going through the average small Southern town sees practically the
entire strength of the colored citizenry gathered at the depot and jumps
at the conclusion that the population is from ninety to ninety-five per
cent. black. In the West he sees maybe one little Indian settlement in a
stretch of five or six hundred miles, and he figures that the Indian is
practically an extinct species.

Of course, though, he is not extinct. In these piping commercial days of
acute competition he has no time to be gallivanting down to the depot
every time a through train rolls in, especially as the depot is
frequently eighty or ninety miles distant from his domicile. He is
closely confined at home turning out souvenirs. It is a pity, too, that
he cannot spare more of his time for this simple and inexpensive
pleasure. In one week's study of the passing tourist breed he could see
enough funny sights and hear enough funny things--unintentionally funny
things--to keep his family entertained on many a long winter's evening
as they sit peacefully in the wigwam making knickknacks for the Eastern
trade.

[Illustration: EACH NAVAJO SQUAW WEAVES ON AN AVERAGE NINE THOUSAND
BLANKETS A YEAR]

No, sirree! Those Southwestern tribes are far from being
extinct--especially the Navajos. You can, in a way, approximate the
tribal strength of the Navajos by the number of Navajo blankets you see.
From Colorado to the Coast the Navajo blanket carpets the earth. I'll
bet any amount within reason that in six weeks' time I saw ten million
Navajo blankets if I saw one. As for other things--bows and arrows, for
example--well, I do not wish to exaggerate; but had I bought all the
wooden bows and arrows that were offered to me I could take them and
build a rustic footbridge across the Delaware River at Trenton, with a
neat handrail all the way over. Taking the figures of the last census as
a working basis I calculate that each Navajo squaw weaves, on an
average, nine thousand blankets a year; and while she is so engaged her
husband, the metal worker of the establishment, is producing a couple of
tons of silver bracelets set with turquoises. For prolixity of output I
know of no female in the entire animal kingdom that can compare with the
Navajo squaw--unless it is the lady Potomac shad.

Right here I wish to claim one proud distinction: I went from the
Atlantic to the Pacific and back again--and I did not buy a single
blank