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place
he belonged, or would he eventually start longing for his bunkmates? Did he
even
realize he was being tested as a possible husband?
She finally said, "When I go back to High Meadow in a couple of days, I'll
leave
Damon here to see how he manages without me. When I come back, I'll ask him
what
he wants to do. I think I could let him stay for the summer. In Watfield he's
just one of five hundred soldiers, and no one needs him."
The day before she was to leave, Seth carried the midday meal to a flower
field
where Damon, with several others, was hoeing weeds and even tying young vines
to
trellises, for he was deft with his maimed hand. His shirt was sweat-stained,
his face dirt-smeared, and his shorn hair covered by a white head-cloth. His
back was even starting to bend.
They all sat on the rough stone wall that edged the field and started sharing
out the food. "You are quiet," Damon commented.
"I was thinking how I'd miss your company. Then I though what a marvel it
would
be, to come back for your wedding."
She had thought Damon would be startled by this possibility, but it seemed
his
lover had already mentioned it. "I am not a good soldier," he said with a
grin.
"Well, I hope that you're only the first. Maybe the Peace Committee will
become
matchmakers."
Damon began telling Seth about the flowering peas, which were a unique
variety
grown only on this farm, that was much sought after for the vividly colored
flowers. "But when people on other farms save their seed, the colors fade
from
year to year, until they are only pale pink. Why do they do that?"
Everyone within hearing engaged in a lengthy discussion of the importance of
keeping a unique variety pure, which led to Damon's exclamation, "And that is
why Ten-Furlong Farm grows no common peas in the vegetable garden!"
"We'll make a flower farmer of you, sure enough," someone said.
Seth began to say something but stopped short with surprise at the sound of a
dog's bark.
The flower farmers were so astonished that some jumped to their feet to peer
southwestward, where the sound had come from. It had been a peddler's dog,
some
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said. Others said it could have been a fox.
Seth said, "I'd swear that was a High Meadow cow dog."
"But it's impossible!"
Damon was standing beside her, tensely alert, a soldier again.
At the sound of another imperative, impatient bark, Seth shouted, "Come!" In
a
few moments, a group of four panting cow dogs came into sight, and the flower
farmers cried out with surprise. But Seth could not utter another sound. The
chief dog, leading the group, carried a limp black corpse in his mouth. He
raced
up to Seth and dropped the dead raven at her feet.
"I must go home at once!" Seth cried.
"I will fetch our gear." Damon started for the house at a run. His lover
followed, breathlessly asking plaintive questions.
The dogs all fell to the ground, scarlet tongues lolling, chests working like
bellows. Seth picked up the water jug and went from one dog to the next,
dribbling water onto their lapping tongues. Cow dogs were sturdy and agile,
but
their bodies were not shaped for running-Still, the chief dog had chosen
young,
vigorous dogs as his companions, and Seth's quick examination revealed that
they
were tired and hot, but not injured. The farmers gave the dogs the meals they
had been about to eat.
Seth examined the raven, then cut it open with her work knife. The bird had
died
of a broken neck. She sat back on her heels and looked around at the
befuddled
flower farmers. "Someone has killed a G'deon's raven."
"On purpose?" asked one stupidly, while others gasped.
"Of course it was on purpose," said another. "Everyone knows not to kill or
harm
any raven!"
"Even the dogs know."
The farmers' confusion turned to sober astonishment, and then to outrage.
"That's the same as murder.'"
"Or assassination," said Seth. She wrapped the raven's body in a
sweat-stained
head-cloth and the farmers buried it under a tree. Damon returned with the
knapsacks and kissed his miserable lover farewell. The woman had managed to
tie
a small love-knot in his short-cropped hair.
"I hope you told her you would return," said Seth, after the two of them had
been walking for a while, with the tired dogs trailing behind them.
"A risky promise, Seth. I did not say it."
It was evening when they reached the boundary of High Meadow Farm and were
greeted there by the rest of the dog pack. Seth found the dogs' ordinary
enthusiasm reassuring. The farmstead seemed as always. The cows were being
milked in the barn; shirtless people were washing off the mud and dousing
each
other with water by the well. Homely kitchen sounds and smells came from the
propped-open kitchen windows. In the bright parlor, many of the adults had
gathered as usual to wait for supper. But as Seth stepped in and was greeted
with surprise, she sensed an unusual tension. "The chief dog came to
Ten-Furlong
Farm to fetch me here," she said.
Then, of course, people must exclaim at and discuss the extraordinary
behavior
of the dogs. Everyone thought the dogs were not even capable of crossing farm
boundaries. But when Sarna began to tell a rambling dog story, Seth could not
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restrain herself. "I am in a hurry! Where is that visitor, Jareth?"
Mama, approaching Seth and Damon with cups of tea, said, "Oh, heÆs gone. He
left
in the dark of night, apparently. So put down your things and have a cup."
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