Francis couldn’t help himself. “Why do you have to bring them powder and lead? They turn right around and use it on white people—like my folks. That doesn’t seem right to me …”

Francis felt the trapper stiffen in the saddle. He bit his tongue, and thought that he fully deserved getting knocked on the ground and left for the Indians.

Gradually the stiffness went away. Without turning, and in a dead-even voice, Mr. Grimes said, “I guess we’d better ride quiet for a while.”

For nearly an hour there was only the sound of the sorrel’s hooves and bird calls and their own breathing. Francis called himself many kinds of a fool in that time.

When the silence was at last broken, it was Mr. Grimes who spoke.

“You’ve been through a lot in the past month or so, and I guess maybe I ought to take that into consideration a mite—”

“No,” Francis interrupted, glad of the chance to speak. “I was dumb. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have talked that way.”

“Well, I’m going to say something to you that I shouldn’t have to say. I’m not a war maker. I don’t want to kill Pawnees, and I don’t want to kill whites. If they want to kill each other, that’s something else again. I ride right down the middle. And if my powder and lead is used to kill whites, I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault. That same powder and lead would kill a lot of buffalo and antelope—and that’s how most of it is used. Some mountain men and traders bring the Indians whiskey—if you want to pick yourself a real fight, go after those men.”

“But I didn’t mean—”

“And don’t come clawing at me. I’ve killed a few Indians in my time, and I’ll probably kill a few more. I may even put Braid under, someday, or he may kill me. But you can make money on this: If I do kill Braid, it won’t be because he has something I want, like land. I’ll leave that to the farmers—your people. And that’s the last I want to hear about it.”

He quit talking as suddenly as he’d begun. Again the silence was thick and painful. There was nothing Francis could say, and he knew it, and the knowledge made him even sadder.

“Mr. Grimes,” he asked, “where are we going?”

“You mean today, or next month?”

“Well, today, I guess. I thought if we happened to be going near a settlement of some kind in the next few days, you could drop me off.”