re in utter contradiction to the Herbert Spencer school of sociology
that among the Hopi the women not only rule but own the house and all
that therein is. The man may claim the corn patch outside the town
limits, where you see rags stuck on sticks marking each owner's bounds;
or if he attends the flocks he may own them; but the woman is as supreme
a ruler in the house as in the Navajo tribe, where the supreme deity is
female. If the man loses affection for his spouse, he may gather up his
saddle and bridle, and leave.

"I marry, yes," said Marie Iteye, my Acoma guide, to me, "and I have one
girl--her," pointing to a pretty child, "but my man, I guess he--a bad
boy--he leave me."

If the wife tires of her lord, all she has to do is hang the saddle and
bridle outside. My gentleman takes the hint and must be off.

I set this fact down because a whole school of modern sex sociologists,
taking their cue from Herbert Spencer, who never in his life knew an
Indian first hand, write nonsensical deductions about the evolution of
woman from slave status. Her position has been one of absolute equality
among the Hopi from the earliest traditions of the race.

At Laguna, you can obtain rooms with Mr. Marmon, or Mr. Pratt; but you
must bring your luncheon with you; or, as I said before, take chance
luck outside at the section house. A word as to Mr. Marmon and Mr.
Pratt, two of the best known white men in the Indian communities of the
Southwest. Where white men have foregathered with Indians, it has
usually been for the higher race to come down to the level of the lower
people. Not so with Marmon and Pratt! If you ask how it is that the
pueblos of Laguna and Acoma are so superior to all other Hopi
communities of the Southwest, the answer invariably is "the influence of
the two Marmons and Pratt." Coming West as surveyors in the early
seventies the two Marmons and Pratt opened a trading store, married
Indian women and set themselves to civilize the whole pueblo. After
almost four years' pow-wow and argument and coaxing, they in 1879
succeeded in getting three children, two boys and a girl, to go to
school in the East at Carlisle. To-day, those three children are leading
citizens of the Southwest. Later on, the trouble was not to induce
children to go, but to handle the hundreds eager to be sent. To-day,
there is a government school here, and the two pueblos of Laguna and
Acoma are among the cleanest and most advanced of the Southwe