Cut, bearing a burning brand, entered a large grotto by means of a hole screened by bushes on the near face of the north hill. My love, clad only in his loincloth, was goose-fleshed from the chill, as the temperature in the cave was regulated by a frigid spring arising at one end to seep from the cave and join the creek within fifty paces of where I intended to build the house. The water was pure, perfect for domestic needs. This would be our cool room for hanging meats and preserving all manner of root vegetables. There was a tiny entrance on the far side of the hill, opening out onto the forest.
Emerging from the cavern by this smaller entrance, Cut grasped my hand and led me like a swain to a thick grove of trees. Without words, he laid me atop my abandoned clothing and relieved his Cu
