She was singing—in Navajo! She had been singing most of the night. He knew she did not recognize the words she sang, yet she had paid close attention and had learned the syllables of repeating refrains in the various Blessingway songs. Sometimes she whispered quietly to him, asking for translations of the words and ideas, and he did his best in rendering them. Now Eden was participating as fully as most of the Dineh women. The "special" or Biji night had not really started until the other singers arrived. Then, with the arrival of Freddie Nez and Johnny Bitsilly, the women had served a light meal of mutton, fry bread, and coffee while others brought in small items they would need for the night's ceremonies. Throughout that long first round of singing, Eden had stayed brightly alert and wide awake beside him, drinking in the details of the eons-old ceremony that surged around them in a combination of modern mirth and ancient solemnity. His mind quelled with awe as he watched her first mouthing and then singing the sacred words, and his heart swelled with tenderness toward her when the pouch of blessed corn pollen was passed "in a sacred manner," and Eden reverently passed it on, as though she deemed herself unworthy to partake.
