Chapter Six
Magistrate Brindle was ill-pleased with Duncan’s musical performance, his nephew Felton reported as Duncan rose up from under the wagon after a few hours’ sleep. Horses had been spooked. Several of the Welsh teamsters had insisted a banshee was descending on the convoy. As more grievances were recited, McGregor appeared at Duncan’s side. Something like rancor flashed across the gangly young Quaker’s face, then he shrugged, offered an exaggerated bow of his head, and retreated.
As Duncan made ready for travel he glanced up at the high ledge where he had played the pipes. Conawago was there, stretching in the dawn light, waking with the Iroquois chiefs. They had arrived the night before with wondering eyes to listen as he had played, had nodded solemn approval when he had finis
