In the ear­ly dark­ness of morn­ing, a group depart­ed from the Yuma camp, their jour­ney illu­mi­nat­ed only by the con­stel­la­tions like Can­cer and Cas­siopeia shin­ing above. Over the course of the pre­vi­ous night, they had con­spired with the Yumas to seize con­trol of the fer­ry. As day broke, the locals dis­cov­ered an “idiot” in a cage, lead­ing to a com­mo­tion among the women at the cross­ing. They were large­ly unfazed by the man’s disheveled state and gath­ered around him, even­tu­al­ly enlist­ing the help of a woman named Sarah Borgin­nis to address him.

Sarah, described as a large woman with a strik­ing red face, stern­ly queried the man, known as Cloyce Bell, about the iden­ti­ty of the impris­oned idiot. He referred to the man as James Robert, but empha­sized that nobody used that name. When ques­tioned about his moth­er, Cloyce revealed she was dead, show­ing lit­tle remorse, which led Sarah to chas­tise him. As the con­ver­sa­tion con­tin­ued, they moved to bathe the idiot and clothe him, while Cloyce offered lit­tle resis­tance.

As the women pre­pared for the task, Toad­vine and a young boy observed their actions. The women pulled the cart clos­er to the riv­er, even­tu­al­ly open­ing the cage to free James Robert. He hes­i­tat­ed but was coaxed by Sarah, who then led him to the water amidst cheers from the women. While she remained unboth­ered by her soiled state, she insist­ed they burn the cage. As he wad­ed into the water, he grabbed at the skirts of the women and behaved errat­i­cal­ly, elic­it­ing sym­pa­thet­ic mur­murs.

In the evening, after being cleaned and dressed, James Robert was seen seat­ed by the fires, look­ing dis­ori­ent­ed yet odd­ly fas­ci­nat­ed. The Borgin­nis woman took care of him, pro­vid­ing com­fort for the night. How­ev­er, under the cov­er of dark­ness, James Robert found him­self alone again, wan­der­ing aim­less­ly by the river­bank until he ulti­mate­ly entered the water.

Just then, the judge, on his noc­tur­nal patrols and equal­ly unclothed, inter­vened to res­cue him from drown­ing. He lift­ed the strug­gling man out of the water as though par­tic­i­pat­ing in a pro­found rit­u­al, return­ing him to his com­pan­ions and restor­ing him to their midst. This act bore the weight of both a new begin­ning and a somber acknowl­edg­ment of their shared exis­tence.