Our kind hostess gave us a pleasant room, and carte blanche to the icebox, for I believe we had no supper that night. It may have been partly our kind reception, but not entirely so, that made Shiprock seem, when we inspected it next day, one of the most attractive and sensibly conducted agencies we had visited. It is beautifully situated where our old friend the San Juan river joins another stream, and turns the desert into the greenest of farm lands. Roses bloomed about each neat, white-picketed house, big trees shaded the road, and the lawns were like velvet. Happy looking Navajo children in middy blouses played about the schoolyards or splashed in the big swimming pool devoted exclusively to them. The teachers and agents whom we met lacked that attitude of contempt for their charges we had sometimes observed in other Indian schools. I have heard teachers who could hardly speak without butchering the President’s English sneer at their Indian charges for reverting to their own tongue. [Illustration: NAVAJO SHEEP-DIPPING AT SHIPROCK. Fat Navajo squaws pulled the unhappy beasts to the trough by the horns.] The day of our stay on the reservation an interesting event took place. Once a year the government requires all Navajos to bring in their sheep to be dipped in a strong solution of lye and tobacco, to prevent vermin and disease. In the early morning the air was filled with a thousand bleatings. The dust rose thick from countless hoofs driven to the sheep-dip. The dip was situated against great yellow buttes, and in the distance the ship rock sailed in lilac light. Fat Navajo squaws with their jewels tied to their belt for safe keeping pulled the unhappy beasts to the trough by the horns, where they completely submerged them, with the aid of an Indian wielding a two-pronged staff.