||Baker Sipapu 8 her, her hair was so beautiful, black and silky, and she was so graceful with it. She had a way of running her hand under its fall, palm in, pulling her hand back slowly and letting the hair slip off the tips of her fingers. It looked like a sweeping rainfall on the desert to him, and he named her Rain. A small waterfall cascaded off the front of the cave into a pool at the bottom, with the overflow running down the wash. Across the valley beyond, he could see the burned wreck of the plane, and the blackened butte. Rain fed him gruel from an earthen bowl, and wiped his hands and face with a damp, coarse cloth. Every evening she brought him a bowl of some kind of herbal tea, kind of faintly bitter and a little sweet. After he drank it, he slipped into a deep sleep that lasted all night. His leg was mostly comfortable and he had the feeling it was healing rapidly. After a few days the girl stopped bringing the evening bowl of tea, and Bob was awake more during the night. He was alone; no one remained in the cave at night. In the early morning, the Medicine Man stood at the mouth of the cave and chanted his greeting to the sun. On his way back to the flint bed, he stopped and put his hands on Bob's leg, and Bob could feel the heat go down to the break. Apparently this had been going on every morning before he woke, but now he was stronger, he was more aware of what was happening around him.