Dear Comrade:

I think you are decidedly right about the sonnets by Edna Millay in the 50th Anniversary number of the Post-Dispatch. Yell as loud as you like; it will be wholly defensible.

"Red Snow" comes dangerously near being a great book. I think so much of it that I'm having my copy bound. Moxley is somebody.

Am off at 7 tomorrow morning on a 4,000 mile trip. Banquet of Writers Guild at Lincoln ( principal speaker); two days at Wayne; one at Chadron, then 10 days with 6 old men of the Sioux - all over 75 and two about 90. They are making big preparations - building a village, "like old times", and we will all live together in the ancient way - no white people but Enid, Hilda & myself. Horses ready for riding, they assure us. Black Elk has just written: "Of course not, kola, I could not charge you for using your tepee while you are here!" Also, "it is great to remember old times & to keep others from forgetting, and we will make a book that will last forever." That's a long time but it may last quite a while anyway. We will go through Black Hills, Slim Buttes, Forks of Grand, then westward to Battlefield of the Rosebud, Little Big Horn, Wagon Box Fight, and home by the North Platte.

Endless love. The good to the bad arm. Write me at Wayne, where I will get mail until May 6th; to Manderson, S. D., where I'll be until May 15th. After that we'll be roving pretty fast on eight-cylinders and will be hard to catch. It's not like going in a Ford.