As Joseph leans over her to check her wounds, he hears a gun cock behind him. He looks over his shoulder. It's Cullen. "You speak English?" Cullen asks. "Yes sir," Joseph answers. Cullen waves him away from Lily with his gun. Joseph, being a sensible sort, complies. He introduces himself and says that he's Christian when Cullen asks him if he's Cheyenne. Cullen assumes that Joseph has done something to Lily. Joseph explains about saving Lily from the Indians and how he's trying to take her to the railroad to see the doctor, but Cullen remains suspicious. After checking Joseph over for weapons, he moves over to Lily and checks her shoulder where Joseph tells him she took an arrow. He finally puts down his gun and peels back the neck of Lily's blouse for a look at her wound. It looks pretty nasty. Cullen gets Joseph to retrieve the field kit from his saddle bag. He seems to know instinctively what to do. He's efficient and capable and for the first time, I'm a teeny bit interested in his past. What did a tobacco farmer do in the war to make him so handy with field medicine?
"Hold her down," he says to Joseph. Cullen takes out a small pocket knife and starts to undo Lily's stitchery. It's no easy task, as the flesh has swollen and scabbed over the thread. Lily opens her eyes to the sight of the two men looming over her. She screams and struggles. She hears them as if from far away telling her to hush, which she understandably doesn't quite manage to do. Cullen digs around in the wound with a pair of pliers. Blood pours out. He digs some more and pulls out a fragment of arrowhead. Lily screams and then pants with relief that the ordeal is over. In a bit of shitty editing, the camera pans up and shows the wound all sewed up while Lily is still in mid-pant. Either Cullen managed to stitch it up faster than the eye could see, or it's a shot from before he started digging around. Joseph sweetly pats her hand.
Back at the construction site, the men are hacking at the cut. Psalms works in his pants and suspenders, the scars from past whippings obvious on his back and arms. "The man says we gotta do our work and theirs," he says, driving his sledgehammer into the ground for emphasis. "But I ask you: Why ain't that Negro ass down here with us?" Other men working beside him bear similar scars. Psalms goes on about the "old days" which he feels in some ways were better, even with "master" nearly working him to the grave. "At least you knew your place," he says. Elam hears all this and walks over to peer down at him from the top of the trench. "Less talk, more work," he says to Psalms. Psalms responds by heaving his sledgehammer to the ground and taking a step back. "Bust me some stone, Negro," Elam says. Psalms comes back with: "How 'bout you bust me your head?" Elam drops down into the cut and the two stand chest to chest. Psalms accuses the lighter-skinned Elam for forgetting who he is. For a tense moment, it looks like they're going to come to blows, but Elam reaches down, picks up a sledgehammer and goes to work. "This ain't for them, this is for us," Elam says. "White man ain't gonna give you nothing, 'cause they want us to fall." As he gets into a rhythm hammering at the stone, the other men on either side of him do the same. Psalms, having lost the crowd, looks like he could spit. Eventually, he sucks it up, joins in and gets to work, too.