Chapter 14I invested the gains from my venture with Caleb Brown in the Yawktown gunsmith’s entire stock of percussion rifles and cartridges. I also bought a new dressing mirror and asked the glazier to throw enough blown glass lights for all the windows at Teacher’s Mead and several to spare.
Although I delayed my start for the Mead late into the thaw, the going was rough. My wagon was a buckboard, and Long Wind did not take kindly to being hitched beside the sturdy black I purchased. He cast sullen looks over his shoulder designed to convey his humiliation at this change from proud Indian pony to draft horse. Patience, I urged. It would only be for a few days.
The homestead had weathered well. Deep snowdrifts choked the north side of the building all the way to the hillock. A rangy dog
