In warm weather he kept a few things in a small palisade driven in the shallow water at the river's edge, which was cool the year 'round.
Longley put his raised bread dough in a frying pan, put a second pan on top, raked the ashes off some coals, and started it baking. A man on horseback, driving two pack animals before him, stopped at the low doorway.
“Hello, John! Glad to see you,” called Longley.
“Glad to get here. Like to sleep in a house again. Tired of shaking the lizards out of my blankets every morning.”
“Ever shake out a rattler?”
“Not yet, though they say it's been done more than once.”
“You're just in time. Turn the beasts into the corral. And then will you just ride back to Kitty Douglas' for me? She promised me a pie, and I need a new starter for my sour dough (batter). By that time everything will be ready to eat.”
“You mean the 'Kitty Douglas' of the signs I've just passed?” asked John, grinning.
“Yes. What were they, today?”
“'Fresh pies, by Kitty Douglas,' 'Bread made every day, by Kitty Douglas,' 'New-laid eggs every day, by Kitty Douglas'!”