She started forward to save it--she who had taught the little black dog to hunt gophers and prairie-dogs!--and when she was too late she scolded the dog in the language of the Sioux.

She tore the rabbit away from him while he eyed her reproachfully; but when she saw that it was quite dead, she flung the warm body back to him and went and sat down again with her back to the rock.
A train whistled for the little station of Bernalillo, and soon she saw its headlight paint the squat houses that had before been hidden behind the creeping dusk.

Ramon was late in coming and for one breath she caught herself hoping that he would not come at all.

But immediately she remembered the love words he had taught her, and smiled her inscrutable little smile that had now a tinge of sadness.

Perhaps, she thought wishfully, Ramon had come on the train from Albuquerque.