In spite of this he is not hospitable; the guest gets food, but there is no room for him in the house of a Tarahumare.  A visitor never thinks of entering a house without first giving the family ample time to get ready to receive him.  When he approaches a friend’s home, good manners require him to stop sometimes as far as twenty or thirty yards off.  If he is on more intimate terms with the family, he may come nearer, and make his presence known by coughing; then he sits down, selecting generally some little knoll from which he can be readily seen.  In order not to embarrass his friends he does not even look at the house, but remains sitting there gazing into vacancy, his back or side turned toward the homestead.  Should the host be absent the visitor may thus sit for a couple of hours; then he will rise and go slowly away again.  But under no circumstances will he enter the home, unless formally invited, “because,” he says, “only the dogs enter houses uninvited.”  Never will the lady of the house commit such a gross breach of etiquette as to go out and inform him of her husband’s absence, to save the caller the trouble of waiting, nor will she if alone at home, make any statements as to that gentleman’s whereabouts.

The Tarahumare never does anything without due deliberation; therefore he may, for quarter of an our, discuss with his wife the possible purport of the visit, before he goes out to see the man.  They peep through the cracks in the wall at him, and if they happen to be eating or doing anything, they may keep the visitor waiting for half an hour.  Finally the host shakes out the blanket on which he has been sitting, throws it around himself, and, casting a rapid glance to the right and left as he passes through the door, goes to take a seat a few yards distant from the caller.  After some meditation on either side, the conversation, as in more civilised society, opens with remarks about the weather and the prospects for rain.  When this subject is exhausted, and the host’s curiosity as to where the man came from, what he is doing, and where he is going to, is satisfied, the former may go back to the house and fetch some pinole and meat for the traveller.  The object of the visit not infrequently is an invitation to take part in some game or foot-race; and as the men are sure to remain undisturbed, they generally reach some understanding.  A friend of the family is, of course, finally invited to enter the house, and the customary salutation is “Assaga!” ("Sit down!”) In this connection it may be noted that the Tarahumares in conversation look sidewise, or even turn their backs toward the person they speak to.

After having eaten, the guest will carefully return every vessel in which food was given to him, and when he rises he hands back the skin on which he was seated.  Should occasion require, the host will say:  “It is getting late, and you cannot return to your home to-night.  Where are you going to sleep?  There is a good cave over yonder.”  With this he may indicate where the visitor may remain over night.  He will also tell him where he may find wood for the fire, and he will bring him food; but not unless the weather is very tempestuous will he invite an outsider to sleep in the house.