His cup and plate and saucer were of tin, and his cutlery was an iron
spoon, a three-tined fork and a hunting dagger. The dishes had not been
washed for weeks.
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.
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