With the disappearance of the last wah-shee-chue from the farm—who happened to the surviving wig-wag signalman from the day of the fight—Cuthan’s family finally settled back into a familiar routine after all the excitement. Thus, I deemed the time right for my departure to help build a farm with James. To delay longer would put me at risk of having to winter in nothing more substantial than a buffalo skin tipi. I had often done that in the past, but many years spent in a comfortable house had weakened my will in that direction.