Marilyn Harris may have intended to write an exposé of white cruelty to Native people, but the book's message is that, for Indians, there is no hope—they do not have a place in white America. Over and over again, the point is made that the fate of Hatter Fox is a metaphor for the fate of her people, and "Hatter Fox was an unworkable genetic formula."

For Indians, Harris sees no options. If they will not—or cannot—assimilate, they are doomed. On the other hand, assimilation can only corrupt the noble savages:

The Indian with the bogus name who owns the trading
post is a pudgy little man with an enormous beer
belly and liver spots on his hands and sellout on his
face. . . he is not liked or trusted by his own people
but he drives a Cadillac, so who cares? . . . I . . . looked...