Across the Spectrum:The Interdisciplinary Life and Letters of John G. Neihardt (‘Flaming Rainbow’)

I am just back from 11 days in the hospital with virus pneumonia. I thought much of you while staring at that ceiling, and I am wondering what could have happened to our old friendship and our great prospect. I want you to believe that there is nothing here to explain any significant change of attitude in either, and your long silence increases my wonderment. There is so much in your MS that is excellent, and the errors that need correction are mostly matters of fact. Enid and I have a big job on hand, catching up with my mail; but we can go ahead whenever you can send us a bunch of copy copy.

I have re-read the foregoing, and I can assure you there is nothing but friendliness in it.

We had a 'rousing time at the Joplin (Mo.) Festival of the Arts. I gave three programs, and at each affair there was "standing room only". The enthusiasm was certainly notable. Gail drove me down to Joplin and helped me during the two days and nights there.

In September I re-visited Spearfish Canyon, in the Black Hills of S. D., where I spent the summer of 1907. It was a wonderful summer! Early in my stay there a shepherd dog from up the Canyon came to me and would not return to his his master. We became close friends. We really loved each other, and we explored the Northern Hills together. The dog came to hate the little mountain railway that sometimes took me to Deadwood, and he developed the habit of attacking the monster when it passed my cabin (within ten feet of my front door). When I left the Canyon in the Fall, and did not return, he fought the engine once too often and was killed. A friend in the Canyon (who almost took Mona's place before she appeared on the scene) built a monument to my doggie, telling of his our love for each other. That was 60 years ago. Here is the point of my dog's tail tale; When I approached my old cabin (there unchanged) a shepherd-dog came bounding joyously, leaped upon me, nearly knocked me down, kissed me on the mouth, licked my face!! The owner, who runs an Inn there, said he did not know what had come over the dog, who was ordinarily rather surly with strangers. The whole party with me had the same feeling — a bit "spoofy spooky"."

The little mountain railway is gone. I met the doggie at close to the place on the railway right-of-way where the other dog was killed — right in front of the old cabin.