I had almost forgotten that I am a boy now.

I felt my braids and said—“Oh, well, in the village I come from we wear our hair like this.”

“Well, if you’re for seeking your fortune in the city you’ll not be wanting to wear it so any more,” he said. “Are you unhungered? We can do it now, before sleep.”

He stood up, and, stampeded, I went over to him. He was expert with the knife. I was heart-broken as I saw the shining hair slide to the ground. It has never before been cut since my childhood. He spun the knife again, caught it, grinned and said, “For all your time in the wild you’re not needing a shave yet, milk-tooth.” He slapped me on the shoulder and said, “O.K., buck, bed now.” He whistled and immediately the children, babies, hens and goat scampered scrambling to the sides of the room and the light was extinguished.

In the morning after the noisy breakfast the wagoner said he’d drive me into the city and leave me there, he going the same way himself to sell his peat. I thanked him and the woman said I must have boots, for one sandal was worse than two bare feet. “My husband can spare a pair,” she said unequivocally while he winked at me.

“No matter how many pairs he can spare I’m not taking his,” I said. “I’ll earn myself a pair in the city. And one sandal is better than none, for this way there are holes in only one foot of my tights.” I was learning how to wedge in speech in this household.

“Holes in your feet! No wonder, all that way,” said the wife. “You with no more sense than to start on your journey when the army was already across, and though they’re Northerners they’d have taken you if you’d worked your keep, they’ll use anything and everything, and no more sense than to walk to the plains when the army was already across and the murderess loose.”

“Murderess?”

“They’ve been asking for her this side already, galloped fast to tell all in the city to watch for her when she crossed. No good searching for her on those endless plains, and it’s my belief she’s the sense to know it and will stay in them.”

“Ready, buck?” said the man and I swung up into his wagon with the peat and straw.

He made strange clucks and flapped the reins and as the horses moved the woman threw something clattering into the wagon and ran back to the house.

“She’s thrown in the boots, and a hood,” I said.

“Keep them.”

“But I can’t take—”

“Keep them,” said the wagoner and clucked to his horses.