The ranger took La Grande Sauterelle to the other end of the room. The tourists followed them, chatting as if it were a guided tour. The old lady asked Jack if “the young girl” was an Indian, and he replied that he had no idea, he’d never seen her before in his life. The ranger took a key from his pocket and unlocked a glass display case and removed a black leather notebook. It was the fort commandant’s diary.

Before a silent audience, the ranger carefully turned the pages of the notebook, then began to read an excerpt. The commandant had recorded there a despatch he had sent to the authorities in Washington to complain because the Gatling constantly jammed with black powder from the ammunition, which rendered it totally useless.

As the ranger read, La Grande Sauterelle’s face lit up; there was the beginning of a smile at the corners of her mouth and, finally, she started to laugh and the tourists did the same. There was some applause.

The girl vigorously shook the young ranger’s hand. She even gave him a couple of friendly pats on the back and declared in her inimitable accent, “This machine gun — I like it very much!”

The storm had blown over.

It was lunchtime, and they munched sandwiches before getting back on the road. La Grande Sauterelle poured some milk for the cat. Jack was driving. The girl said little and seemed very calm. However, that afternoon there was a sudden storm. She told him what had happened at Sand Creek.