“What about that one?” Nancy pointed at the crayfish trap. “That’s why I brought the stinking quail heads,” Silver Quail smiled. ...he tossed the four heads into the trap, then pinned the trap to the bottom of the river with a long forked stick. They watched for a moment to make sure nothing drifted away, then returned to the ranch. There wasn’t much going on, the girls were hunting food, the men were driving 30 head of cattle to Ft. Kearney for sale. Silver Quail had collected. She was still upset that she hadn’t been able to go home to her family.I didn’t argue the point with her. I could have pointed out that no one had made her stay and that she could have taken the risk involved in going back to our Earth, but that she hadn’t wanted to do that. However, I chose not to nail her on that point. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It was clear that the woman was suffering from depression and possibly worse: PTSD. Regrettably, there was very little that I could do for. More

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