Chapter 101
As we made ready to start for home, Buffalo Leg handed Bear a plain, wooden flute and advised him to play a heap of love songs to me. He also counseled Matthew to beat me only when necessary. Honest advice or sly tickling?
We thanked our two friends and turned east to catch the road, keenly aware of how changed our circumstances were since coming this way eight days ago. Eight days. It seemed more like eight weeks. Being penned up in an iron cage distorts a man’s sense of time. My bruises were an ugly purple, but they no longer stung so badly. Even so, riding horseback was not a pleasant pastime now. But it was bearable.