ed rather unexpectedly yesterday," said Clifford, with a smile
that had a good day's nursing in it. "In fact, you arrived in a hurry.
Don't talk. You don't have to."

"My head," said Bauer, and he laid down again.

"That's right, son. We prescribe perfect quiet for you. You don't need
even to ask a question. There will be time enough."

And so Bauer found out as the desert days slipped by and he slowly and
surely drank in health and strength. He would lie there in perfect
contentment, each day noting a little more of life. The nights were
splendid with God's own peace. The friends would place his cot near the
opening of the hogan and from where he lay he could see the stars come
out and blaze all up the half dome of the visible sky, Peshlekietsetti,
the old silver smith, who had been near the door the first morning after
the accident on the river, would come and sit down inside the hogan to
relieve the other watchers. And even after there was no particular need
of special nursing, the old man would come and gravely, without attempt
to speak, sit there by him, occasionally working at some bit of silver
ornament. Groups of the children from the mission would come and stand
at the hogan opening, and often come by twos or threes sent by Mr.
Clifford with some token which they left on the sand and then shyly ran
back to the mission. The doctor at Flagstaff had been over and he had
pronounced Bauer's case to be entirely susceptible to climate, diet and
time. And Bauer, who had heard him talking with Clifford, from that
moment made wonderful progress, and to Clifford's delight was soon able
to walk about, and even go as far as the river, where he would sit down
on the fallen trunk of an old cottonwood and watch the Navajos on the
other side cultivate their corn and melon patches.

He was sitting there one afternoon watching the thick waters trickling
by and wondering how such an insignificant and shallow stream could
overturn a heavy wagon and two horses, when the man called Clifford, who
had been mending a harness at a bench under a tree near by, came and sat
down by him, bringing a part of his work from the bench.

"I have a lot of questions I want to ask," said Bauer, watching the
Mission worker as he sewed on a buckle.

"All right. But before you begin might as well say to you I was born in
Vermont."

"Born in Vermont?"

"Yes, ever hear of it?"

"Yes," said Bauer slowly. "But what has that to do with my asking
q