Choosing between “studies” and “stories,” as Herbert Butterfield couched the alternatives in 1959, has aggravated historians for years. He preferred an exit. With structure and narrative combined, Butterfield thought, “one may gain a profounder insight into both the ways of men and the processes of time.” Difficult as that approach may be, Karl Jacoby cautioned, it only balances a false dichotomy. Like the event in Apache history he reconstructed, some episodes lie hidden, wholly or in part, in silences not broken by documents or statistics. Adding American Indians to the mix of U.S. history, he argued, illustrates ways to resolve the dilemma and lead “toward a deeper revisioning of the American past.” Jacoby proposed “spotlighting the fraught relationship between storytelling and historical evaluation” to loosen the stubborn knot of history. The essential aim is not merely to fill a knowledge gap, an easier undertaking, but to evoke an episode's meanings, then and later. Undeniably, the past has legs, its tracks detected or hypothesized along divergent, sheltered, and sometimes surprising courses. Historians happen upon them more often along the way than at the outset, however careful and comprehensive the research design. Leaving room for possible interpretations tests its adequacy for reducing unknowns and finding new ones. They may use a compass of sorts to begin, if only to chart a general direction, but other research tools are essential for exploring details of unfamiliar territories. There, enhanced capacities for seeing and listening can help avoid unfounded claims and other epistemological disasters. For Jacoby, such are the risks historians run upon entering the places of American Indians' pasts.