He wouldn't hurt you." Phoebe reached up, and caught the hands in a reassuring clasp.
Evadna's eyes strayed from one face to another around the table till they rested upon Good Indian, as having found sanctuary there.
"But, Aunt Phoebe, he was WASN'T.

He was a white man.

And he has a camp there, right by that tree the lightning peeled the bark off.

I was close before I saw him, for he was sitting down and the currant bushes were between.

But I went through to get round where Uncle Hart has been irrigating and it's all mud, and he jumped up and pointed the gun AT me.
Just as if he was going to shoot me.