Tell me the story again, Grandfather. Tell me who I am.
I have told you many times Boy. You know the story by heart.
But it sounds better when you tell it, Grandfather.
Then listen carefully. This may be the last telling.
No, no, Grandfather. There will never be a last time. Promise me that. Promise me.
I promise you nothing, Boy. I love you. That is better than a promise.
And I love you, Grandfather, but tell me the story again. Please.

It is sunset. There are mountains with flat tops called "mesa". We can see an old Indian man and a little boy.
They are sitting near the fire. Two horses are in the pen.