"You walked a vast way, and alone? In the dark hours of the morning? You, a woman?"
She caught her breath and glanced away from him.
"You have much courage to have done this."
"No, sir," she said. "You are wrong. I am not courageous. I am simply troubled, and I walked here to pray. I wished to be away from the wagon train when I spoke to God."
He nodded. Yet, he repeated his observation and said, "I understand what you say, and yet, I disagree with what you have told me about your bravery. What you did took courage."
"Or, perhaps I was too deeply grieved and so gave no notice to what was in the environment around me."
He nodded. "From your song, I have come to understand your heart is burdened. Have you lost someone? A husband, perhaps, or a child?"
She bit her lip before saying, "Sir, I do not have to answer your questions. Know simply that I tell you the truth. I have not come into this country alone."
He nodded. "When you are ready, I will take you back to your people."
He watched as she bit her lip yet again. But, at length she said, "Sir, I fear to tell you this, but I do not wish you to accompany me to the others. It could turn out in a bad way for you. But, also, I am frightened of you."
He didn't acknowledge her in any way. Instead, he simply looked at her quickly before withdrawing his gaze. But, within his glance, quick as it had been, he noticed the element of sadness again within her dark eyes. With this woman's wavy dark hair blowing in the wind and because she was wearing a feminine, flattering blue dress, she looked beautiful almost beyond description.
At last, he said, "A woman like you should not be alone in this country. At this time of year, there are always war parties about, and you could come upon one. If this were to happen, it might not go well for you. It would depend upon the war party's opinion of the white man."
"And yet," she replied, "I have come here on this cliff without incident, until now. Sir, what do you intend doing with me or tome? You say you mean me no harm, yet you are standing in the way of me leaving here, unless, that is, you wish me to jump off this cliff."
"Pisskan."
"Pardon?"
"Pisskan. It means a buffalo jump. In the long ago days before the horse, my people used places like this to lure the buffalo here to jump off this cliff."
She paused, then said, "It is a rather cruel practice, isn't it?"
"Cruel? Is it heartless to use a place like this to obtain enough meat to see the people through the long winters? Without this, the people would starve and die, for the winters are long and dangerous in this part of the country, and sometimes even our best men are lost in the blizzards during the great snows. This makes hunting difficult and food scarce."
"Oh." She looked down. "I am sorry. You are right. I do not know this country well enough to place values on it that are foreign to it."
He nodded and smiled a little.
"Why do you grin, sir?"
"Your words were kindhearted and wise, and I smiled because your kindness brought joy to my heart."
"Joy? To your heart? But, sir, I thought…"
He waited a moment, then encouraged her to explain by asking, "You thought…?"
She looked away from him. "Sir, truly, how can this be so?"
He frowned, then repeated, "How can this be so? Say what you mean."
She turned slightly away from him, her gaze seemingly lost somewhere in the distance. At length, however, she murmured, "I fear to speak further."
"Fear? I understand fear. And yet, if I am to help you, it might be wise to say your thoughts aloud. I believe I am manenough to hear an insult without wishing to harm you, if it is an insult which causes you distress."
"Will you give me your word of honor to do me no harm if I tell you a description of the Indians, one that is commonly told by the men in this country?"
"I can and I do."
