Well, that old cook of Call's that likes to fry bugs will be happy, at least, he said. Soon the whites would come, of course, but what he was seeing was a moment between, not the plains as they had been, or as they would be, but a Lorena watched Jake closely for a few minutes to see if she was the cause of his sulk. I fear she's dead, he said.
He looked exactly as he had: he just was no longer breathing. Well, _adiós_, boys, he said. If you stay out of it she might, Clara said. Then they cut off part of one of the wagon sheets, wrapped the dead boy in it and carried him in the wagon to the grave.
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