Chapter 23The next morning Raven demonstrated no awkwardness over the night before. In fact, he took sly liberties: sanding too close, a hand on the arm. I did my best to act natural while keeping my distance.
Mindful of the chore Matthew had given me, I removed one of the white pigeons, affixed a message saying I’d arrived safely to a small strap tied to one of the bird’s legs, and released it. We watched from the big loft doors as the little creature rose swiftly, seemed to pause for a moment, and then streaked off in an easterly direction.
“Pretty smart,” Raven said. “Damn near as good as the army telegraph if some hawk don’t get him.”
“That’s why we send two.” I removed a second white bird from the cote and repeated the procedure. That one too, seemed a bit uncertain before flying i
