Chapter 32By the time the first blue norther swept down from Canada to encase our world in a white cocoon, there had been no reaction from Smith or his militia. Under the circumstances, we welcomed this forced isolation. I did not mind spending the cold winter months bound to the house with James. I enjoyed his ready mind and quick wit. His turn of phrase was not as biting as Billy’s had been, but it was sharp enough to keep me on my toes.
The winter of ‘68–’69 might not have been as severe as the one in 1865, but it clung to the land beyond the normal thaw and reversed my earlier contentment, making me impatient for snowmelt and its season of renewal. This despite the fact I would soon have to move back into my tipi.
Both James and I were men of action and chafed at the bit to begin wor
