“I understand you,” he replied, presently. “An' I'm sure surprised that I can. I've read my books—an' reread them, but no one ever talked like that to me. What I make of it is this. You've the same blood in you that's in Bo. An' blood is stronger than brain. Remember that blood is life. It would be good for you to have it run an' beat an' burn, as Bo's did. Your blood did that a thousand years or ten thousand before intellect was born in your ancestors. Instinct may not be greater than reason, but it's a million years older. Don't fight your instincts so hard. If they were not good the God of Creation would not have given them to you. To-day your mind was full of self-restraint that did not altogether restrain. You couldn't forget yourself. You couldn't FEEL only, as Bo did. You couldn't be true to your real nature.”
“I don't agree with you,” replied Helen, quickly. “I don't have to be an Indian to be true to myself.”
“Why, yes you do,” said Dale.
“But I couldn't be an Indian,” declared Helen, spiritedly. “I couldn't FEEL only, as you say Bo did. I couldn't go back in the scale, as you hint. What would all my education amount to—though goodness knows it's little enough—if I had no control over primitive feelings that happened to be born in me?”
“You'll have little or no control over them when the right time comes,” replied Dale. “Your sheltered life an' education have led you away from natural instincts. But they're in you an' you'll learn the proof of that out here.”
“No. Not if I lived a hundred years in the West,” asserted Helen.
“But, child, do you know what you're talkin' about?”
Here Bo let out a blissful peal of laughter.
“Mr. Dale!” exclaimed Helen, almost affronted. She was stirred. “I know MYSELF, at least.”
“But you do not. You've no idea of yourself. You've education, yes, but not in nature an' life. An' after all, they are the real things. Answer me, now—honestly, will you?”