At this I laughed and then said, Tell me Preacher, do you know the story of Hugh Glass? The Preacher did not, and so I began: Hugh Glass was part of an expedition in Nebraska. He was a mountain man, and was assigned two partners: men named Bridger and Fitzgerald. One day, he and his partners happened upon a mother grizzly. It was on him before he could fire a shot, and so he had to kill it with a knife. When it was over, the bear was dead and Glass was close to death as well. His partners were ordered by the leader of the company to stay with him until he died, then bury him at the site. Instead, they took the man’s weapons and equipment and abandoned him when night fell. I have heard this story, the Preacher said. Then tell me how it ends. Glass awakes. Despite a leg broken and his wounds exposed, he crawls two hundred miles to civilization. He lives. That’s right, he does. And then what does he do to Bridger and Fitzgerald? He tracks them down and cuts the still-beating hearts out of their chests. Why then do I not fear the retribution of those Irish cocksuckers? Elijah and I met Jim Bridger in an Oregon saloon when we were seventeen. Man loved to talk, and he told the story of Hugh Glass to anyone who’d listen. He was a despicable man in many regards, but we listened all the same. You got most of the story right, Preacher. Glass did track down Bridger with murderous intention, but in the end, he spared the man his life. He forgave him. The torrent of the river and the hooves of the horses filled the void left by our silence. You anticipate forgiveness from these brothers if you see them again? I anticipate that I would strike them dead regardless. The remnants of a splintered canoe rolled along the rapids of the river. I watched the largest piece bob with the current, until it smashed against a rock and dropped below the surface. Why do people change the ending to that story, Preacher? What is it that makes us want that? We rode until the sun grew cold and the howls of wolves filled the sky.