Since mid-February, there had been no rain. The jerky rhythms of the medicine men may have charmed the tourists, but they failed to move the Sky Father. It was costing the Navajos $25,000 a month to haul in enough water to save their 150,000 grazing sheep.
Last week in Arizona, Navajo chiefs, with the help of interpreters, held a powwow with Pilot C. S. Barnes, a onetime Army colonel now prospering in the rainmaking business. It was hard going, because there are no Navajo words for Barnes's way of producing rain. Talking Navajo, however, was a mere concession to ceremony:...
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