George cut off its engine.
Over Good Fox's shoulder hung a small clay water jug hung in a plaited yucca net. George asked for a drink from it and when he tasted it and found it fresh it was wondrous to him that its water was hundreds of years old. He brought out a thermos, showing the Indians the modern version of carrying water. They tasted of its contents and exclaimed at its coolness. Good Fox held the thermos, admiring it.
"Would you like to have it?" asked George.
"You would give it to me?" the handsome young Indian asked.
"It's yours."
"Then I give you mine." He gave George his clay water jug and could not know how much more valuable it was than the thermos.
George then took them to the portable television set and turned it on. When faces, music, and words appeared the Indians jerked back, then jabbered and gathered closer to watch. A girl singer, clad in a gown that came up to her neck, caused Moon Water to inquire, "Why does she hide herself? Is she ashamed?"
The standards of modesty, George reflected as he glanced at the lovely nude form of the prehistoric Indian girl, change with the ages.
Of the people and noises on the TV screen Good Fox wanted to know quite solemnly, "Are these crazy people? Is it the way you treat your people who go crazy?"
George laughed. "You might say it's something like that."