not
raise my feet and it was raining part of the time. Every place where
the Indians live in their natural mud huts it is clean and
inoffensive. As soon as there is a sign of a real house, or what you
call civilization, there is dirt, smells, refuse heaps and flies--and
of all the sights in my life, bar none, the washstand in Mr. Hubble's
store, with wet newspaper, stagnant slop jar, dirty tooth brush,
filthy basin, sloppy soap--all humming with flies--is the worst I
have ever seen and the most stomach turning. There is some freak from
Boston in a checkered suit and goggles who walks around with some
ideas for Indian betterment. I think they have reached the highest
pitch in the fact that they do not scalp him! I had coffee, oatmeal
and bacon all out of one bowl. I drink water that looks like bean
soup and never use a fork and a spoon at the same meal. Sand and
cinders or charcoal flavor everything, and I have fished olives out
of the sand where they had fallen and eaten them with perfect
satisfaction. Materially this certainly is the way to live.
Spiritually some shifting might improve it."

Back from the trip and into civilization, Nelka again was restless
and discontented with her surroundings. Again she longed for Europe
and especially Russia.

Her little dog Tibi became of primary importance in Nelka's life.
Despite her love for animals, Nelka admits that up to that time she
had no special attachment or deep affection for dogs. Dogs were just
something you had around you; they were part of everyday life, but
that was about all. But with Tibi, Nelka's affection for her grew and
grew, and they became unusually attached to each other. Like all dogs
who are constantly with a person, they develop a great maturity and
intelligence. Tibi did just that. She was a very highly developed
animal, as I remember her well.

The winter of 1910-1911 Nelka spent again with her aunt Martha in
Washington. Her aunt had a large house and was in the social whirl of
the capital. Dinners, balls, the White House, the Embassies--but all
this meant little to Nelka and she felt the futility of all that
activity, its artificiality and uselessness. Irritated and longing
for a change she once again returned to Russia, and once again went
back to the Kaufman community.

Her feeling for dogs and animals in general was becoming more and
more pronounced--thanks in part to her close association with Tibi.
In one of her letters to her aunt Susie