Timo had fashioned two iron hoes and was fitting them into stout handles. He talked a blue streak to John as the lad assisted in the labor. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the adoration in the smith’s eyes. It was the same fondness Timo had lavished upon Cut Hand now transferred to the boy, a smaller replica of his grandfather.
* * * *
Despite their youth, both John and Little Bear were accustomed to hard work and did not need my supervision. A small spring feeding Turtle Crick lay close by, so I dug trenches and developed a series of channels I could dam or open as needed to water the fields. After a good soaking, the plants took on new life.
A week or so into their visit, I eased off on the hard labor and devoted more time to the boys’ studies. This suited John perfectly, but Bear clearly preferred to be outside. I moved the classroom to the porch, hoping to strike a balance.