Francisco, Abel's grandfather, has one foot in the distant past and one foot dragging through the present day. He has taught Abel everything he knows of the history of the land around him and the history of his people. When Francisco was young, the experiences of his people were far different than they are today: the races still occurred, he could run for miles to hunt a deer, and the women were enchanting and powerful. Now in his old age, Francisco sees that some of the old ways remain, but he is devastated to see that his grandson is so ravaged by the rigors of existence and entrapped by alcoholism—hardships that Francisco himself never experienced as a young man. Francisco is not only sensitive to what the environment has to tell him, but also seems to have the power to know what will happen next. Indeed, in the narrative, Momaday establishes a strong connection—almost psychic—between Francisco and Abel. The night Abel kills the albino, Francisco senses it, and realizes that he soon will be alone again. The vacancy that surrounds Francisco at the end of the first section suggests not only loneliness, but also a finality that eventually becomes apparent when he dies.