Roger nodded. "I think many times you're right, Rabbit Tail. But it's too late now. Whites have lived like this too many hundreds of years. They can't change to your ways any more than Indians can change to white ways." Again there was a long pause before Rabbit Tail began once more. "You know you whites kill many Injuns. Give Injun dirty sickness--kill Injun babies. Me--I see white take Injun baby by feet, smash head against rock. See Injun squaw belly cut out by white man. You know all that?" Roger nodded. "The whites have been rotten to the Indians. I don't blame you for hating us. But how about Charley and the little girl?" One of Qui-tha's squaws spoke. She had been educated at an Indian school. "Charley showed me how to cure my baby of sore scalp and how to take care of him when he had croup. She lets me stay with her when he is sick or I am." "She lets me use her sewing machine whenever I want it," spoke up a pretty young squaw in a red gingham dress. "When old Chachee die," an elderly Indian woman looked from Charley to Rabbit Tail, "she die in Charley's house. Charley help sickness in her chest better'n medicine man." Roger looked at Charley. He knew that she liked the Indians but she never had mentioned her good works to them. The educated squaw spoke again. "I hate most white women. They treat us as if we were servants. But Charley treats us as if we were human beings like herself. And Felicia was a beautiful child." "It's queer some of you have never been near Charley then, in her trouble," said Roger. "The men have been working for months on the government dam at Bitter Peak. We were with them and just got here three days ago. Of course, Qui-tha didn't tell what little he knew. If the men won't help Charley, we women will. We could carry water to the field." Qui-tha rose and walked over to Charley. "Qui-tha heap sorry. You give Qui-tha to sheriff." Charley shook her head. "What good would that do?" "All right then, Qui-tha go help one week, fix the alfalfa." Old Rabbit Tail lighted another cigarette. "We come Monday, bring fifteen men, one week," he said. "You know neither Roger nor I have any money, Rabbit Tail," explained Charley. "Money no pay for blood. You good to Injuns. Now Injuns good to you." Roger rose. "Thank you," he said simply. But Charley was too moved for words and as if she understood, one of the squaws put one hand on the girl's shoulder while she patted her cheek. They clambered back to the top of the trail, without a word until the camp was out of sight, then Roger said with a half smile, "You are some girl, Charley dear." "And you are some boy, Roger." "I? Why Charley, I'm just beginning to realize that I have gone through life with my eyes shut. The man with one idea misses most of life. I went up there with the intention of threatening a lot of savages. I've come away feeling as if I'd met a group of intelligent and kind hearted fellow humans."