Rick-John told me how earlier on their journey they had lost two of the girls to a couple of cowboys promising a thousand acres and the most beautiful country a man had ever seen.
I suggested that maybe that wasn’t a loss and maybe it was a beautiful thing. He didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at. Perhaps he was getting greedy.
This reminded me of a legend I once heard of a man living in the wilderness with his daughters because he didn’t trust anyone and couldn’t handle losing a piece of his stead. I can’t imagine what it was like for his daughters as they birthed his children. I had always hoped that one of them was educated some how. Legend has it that his wife slit her own throat with his prized knife. The bastard didn’t even know she was missing until he looked for his knife.
Rick-John, of course, was as innocent as any bank-teller yet as foot loose and wagon jumping as any Iroquois I’d ever met.
I oiled my long barrel thinking about this, John-bo neighed softly in the darkness nearby.
[note: to read the full epic track my land]