“Hectored? That is to mean––tortured? Yes, I understand. It is that we not suffer the mind to be tortured?”
“About that, yes.”
“Thank you. I try to comfort her. But it is to lie to her? It is not a sin, when it is for the healing?”
“I’m not authority on that, Miss, but I know lying’s a blessing sometimes.”
“If I could make her see the marvelous beauty of this way we go, but she will not look. Me, I can hardly breathe for the wonder––yet––I do not forget my father is dead.”
“I’m starting you off now, because it will not be so hard on either you or the horses to travel by night, as long as it is light enough to see the way. Then when the sun comes out hot, we can lie by a bit, as we did yesterday.”
“Then is no fear of the red men we met on the plains?”
“They’re not likely to follow us up here––not at this season, and now the railroad’s going through, they’re attracted by that.”
“Do they never come to you, at your home?”
“Not often. They think I’m a sort of white ‘medicine man’––kind of a hoodoo, and leave me alone.”