The defense of the camp was not without cost. Two young men and a seasoned round-belly were laid away in the rocks. One of the fallen was Broad Fist, Butterfly’s new husband.
Something about the Pipe Stem raid bothered me, so I cornered Cut as he moved through the camp checking on his People.
“Where were the scouts?” I demanded a bit more stridently than intended. His Porcupines were responsible for security and ordinarily knew when a stranger came within a league of the village.
His murderous look told me this was not the first time this question had been put. Nonetheless, he brooked my interference.
“It was Buffalo Shoulder.” He sighed. “He and three others were scouting our boundaries.
“Let me guess. He got drunk.”
“He and one of the other guards were in a gully with a jug when th
