We put up our pathetic shelter, then Blue Mountain Woman unwrapped a small bundle of blessedly dry twigs and cow chips from an oilskin packet. More interested now, Meopwits started the fire. The kindling gave out too soon, but while it lasted, we managed to get the chill off the meat at least.

I had never eaten anything so close to raw before, but I wasn’t about to stand on ceremony. We waited until Hawk returned from the diminished horse herd, then dug in. I know I presented quite a sight, with my hair wet and tangled and my clothes muddy. Blood dripped down my chin from the rabbit. Miss Sumner would have retreated into the solitude of the Sinai Desert if she had witnessed the way I attacked that main and only course.

Since it was barely cooked, we had to gnaw pretty hard at the meat near the bones. I even scraped at it with my fingernails to detach every bit of flesh.

I say we. After only a few bites, Meopwits refused to eat any more. He sat hugging his knees up to his chin, staring into the dead fire. Hawk sat by him, saying nothing. After a short time, the old man leaned his head against his grandson’s shoulder. They sat like that together until the stars began to peek through the clouds.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Perhaps I should speak of calendars and watches and time. I’ve looked back through these pages and sense a sameness, as in, we traveled, we ate when we found something to eat, we tried to mask our fears (I was never good at this), and we slept. I had no idea what day it was.

At first it bothered me when I couldn’t tell the time. Our house in Omaha seemed to have a clock in every room, as if exhorting that we be busy and doing and mindful of each moment. There was none of that on the march toward Canada. Our lives were governed by the rising and setting of the sun, and a watchfulness borne of the real fear that any moment, an army could appear and ride us into the ground.

The extent of that possibility came home later, when we learned that our enemy had wired ahead to other departments and stationed troops all along our supposed line of march. Colonel Sturgis at Canyon Creek should have been Sturgis farther north at Judith Gap, except that he probably consulted a watch, felt impatient and moved south.