Indians, and straightway Massai turned away--his wild nature shunning
even the society of his kind.

"At times 'his heart was bad,' and once he sat brooding for a whole day,
finally telling her that he was going into a bad country to kill
Mexicans, that women were a burden on a warrior, and that he had made up
his mind to kill her. All through her narrative he seemed at times to be
overcome with this blood-thirst, which took the form of a homicidal
melancholia. She begged so hard for her life that he relented; so he
left her in the wild tangle of mountains while he raided on the Mexican
settlements. He came back with horses and powder and lead. This last was
in Winchester bullets, which he melted up and recast into .50-calibre
balls made in moulds of cactus sticks. He did not tell how many murders
he had committed during these raids, but doubtless many.

"They lived that winter through in the Sierras, and in the spring
started north, crossing the railroad twice, which meant the Guaymas and
the Southern Pacific. They sat all one day on a high mountain and
watched the trains of cars go by; but 'his heart got bad' at the sight
of them, and again he concluded to kill the girl. Again she begged off,
and they continued up the range of the Mogollons. He was unhappy in his
mind during all this journey, saying men were scarce up here, that he
must go back to Mexico and kill some one.

"He was tired of the woman, and did not want her to go back with him,
so, after sitting all day on a rock while she besought him, the old wolf
told her to go home in peace. But the girl was lost, and told him that
either the Mexicans or Americans would kill her if she departed from
him; so his mood softened, and telling her to come on, he began the
homeward journey. They passed through a small American town in the