Willock was greatly disconcerted by her attitude. He said regretfully, "I guess I've been so much with myself that I ain't noticed my outside as a man ought. Won't you make your home with me, child?" He held out his rough hand appealingly. She retreated farther, saying with disapproval, "Much hair!" Willock laid his hand on his breast, returning, "Much heart!" "Him white," said the Indian, swinging himself upon his horse. "Him save your life. Sometime me come visit, come eat, come stay with you." As he wheeled about, she held out her arms toward him, crying wildly, "Don't go! Don't leave me! Him much hair!" The Indian dashed away without turning his head. "Good lord, honey," exclaimed Willock, at his wits' ends, "don't cry! I can't do nothing if you CRY. Won't you come look at your new home?" He waved eagerly toward the dugout. "Hole in the ground!" cried the girl desperately. "I want my tepee. Am I a prairie-dog?" "No, honey, you ain't. You and me is both white, and we ought to live together; it ain't right for you to live with red people that kills and burns your own kith and kin." She looked at him repellently through her streaming tears. "Big hair!" she cried. "Big hair!" "And must I cut it off? I'll make my head as smooth as yonder bald-headed mountain-peak if it'll keep you from crying. Course you ain't seen nobody with whiskers amongst them Indians, but THEY ain't your people. Your people is white, they are like me, they grows hair. But I'll shave and paint myself red, and hunt for feathers, if that's what you want." Her sobbing grew less violent. Despite his ferocious aspect, no fear could remain in her heart at sight of that distressed countenance, at sound of those conciliatory tones. Willock, observing that the tempest was abating, continued in his most appealing manner: "I'm going to do whatever you say, honey, and you're going to be the queen of the cove. Ain't you never been lonesome amongst all them red devils? Ain't you missed your poor mammy as died crossing the plains? It was me that buried her. Ain't you never knowed how it felt to want to lay your head on somebody's shoulder and slip your little arms about his neck, and go to sleep like an angel whatever was happening around? I guess SO! Well, that's me, too. Here I've been for two long year, never seeing nothing but wild animals or prowling savages till the last few months when a settler comes to them mountains seven mile to the southwest. Looked like I'd die, sometimes, just having myself to entertain." "You lonesome, too?" said the girl, looking up incredulously. She drew a step nearer, a wistful light in her dark eyes. The man stretched out his arms and dropped them to his side, heavily. "Like that," he cried--"just emptiness!"