Means more than just that.
Indian words mean the sound and...

feel of a word, like...
crack of dawn, the first bronze light...
that makes the buttes stand out
against the gray desert.

The first sound you hear of a brook...
curling over some rocks, with trout jumping.
It's like when you get up in the first light...
just you and her and you go out of
a wickiup.

Where it smells kind of smoky and private,
just you and her, and...

kind of safe with just the two of you.
Stand outside and...
feel the bite of the first wind
coming down from the high divide...

that promises snowfall.
Can't say it in English,
but that was her name.

- You remind me of her some.
- Of an Indian girl?

Was she fair?
Her hair was black as 10 feet down.
Did you ever see a crow's wing,
how black and gleaming it is?

- Yes.
- That's the way her hair shined.

I'd like to pay you for that rope.
Riding dispatch,
I have the right to give U.S. script.

- You loved her?
- I don't know.

I needed her.
- But if she was dark and I'm fair...
- Why you reminded me of her?

- Yes.
- I don't know.

I thought about it.
You don't look anything like her.

I am fully aware
that I am a homely woman, Mr. Lane.

I didn't mean that.
I have a bad habit of telling the truth.
But being pretty isn't much.

I know a lot of pretty people
I wouldn't trust...

with a busted nickel-plated watch.
But some others, something comes out of
the inside of them and...

you know you can trust them.
Destarte had that.
And you've got it, too.