I understood what Poker Joe was telling me. When we took the Union Pacific west from Omaha, I saw miles of tidy farms and ranches. Someone had lived on that land before the settlers. All were gone now, herded onto reservations, out of sight and out of mind to most Americans. Sitting in a private railcar, I had been an observer. Sitting on my creaky horse, I was a participant.

“So many have lost so much,” I said. “Only yesterday…” I couldn’t continue. I knew I would see that falling baby in my dreams for a long time.

“That was a terrible thing, but a small event,” Joe said. “Now, now! Hear me out! Three weeks ago we were surprised by another Bluecoat and his troops at the valley of the Big Hole.”

I looked at his face, then looked away, because I could almost see that battle on his face. His hair was already short in the white man’s way, but I asked anyway. “Who did you lose, Joe?”

“My wife and daughter,” he said.

“Oh, God,” I whispered.

“They cried out to God, they did, Liz. They were Presbyterians. Maybe like some of the soldiers.” He visibly gathered himself together. I wanted him to stop; I had heard enough, but I wasn’t rude enough to stop him. “Sixty women and children gone and thirty warriors, but we stopped that Bluecoat.” He sighed. “And here we are, the victors and still retreating.” He gave me a searching look. I knew better than to turn away this time. He deserved more from me. “You are a bright woman. We will meet more soldiers and more soldiers, won’t we?”

I nodded. “No matter how many you defeat, there will always be more.”

“More and more until we are gone, because we cannot replace ourselves. All this because we wanted to be left alone. Some thought leaving Idaho for Montana Territory would accomplish that. You and I know better, don’t we, Liz?”

I had all the education I needed from Poker Joe. I fell back and he rode beside Joseph again. As we parted company, I knew I had an ally, even if he had none.

Another thing of merit happened that day, a much smaller thing, but one which further my education in the ways of the Nimiipuu.

After the sun was directly overhead and sliding down, I felt that familiar trickle of moisture on the inside of my thighs that heralded the arrival of my monthly. I had lost track of the days, so it came as an unwelcome surprise.

I didn’t know what to do. At home I would have gone to that special box in the linen closet, but here I was in the middle of nowhere. Blue Mountain Woman’s English was somewhat south of adequate, and I dreaded having to corral Poker Joe into interpretation. I did the time-honored thing and tried to ignore the situation.

It wasn’t going away. I was looking around for Blue Mountain Woman when she rode up beside me. Poker Joe was nowhere to be seen, so I edged Methuselah closer to her horse. I lifted up my skirt and showed her my problem. She nodded and motioned me to follow her.