Little Dove was riding her pony to gather some herbs at the spring, a four-mile distance from the camp. Her pony stopped and whinnied a low whuh, whuh, whuh. She looked ahead and saw a lone horse, saddled but no rider. There was a bulk on the ground on the other side of the horse. She nudged her pony forward and then realized the bulk was a man lying still. Little Dove called to the figure but received no answer, so she got down from her pony to investigate. It was John Linwood, bloodied and beaten; his eyes were swollen shut. "He must survive," she told herself. She managed to turn the unconscious body on his back. He groaned a little as she moved him. She winced then as though she had experienced pain too. John Linwood had won the heart of the beautiful daughter of the Indian chief, but John had given up on getting the chief's permission for her and left for home. His life as an oil field...

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