Chapter 7Canadian northers heralded an early winter, and with the appearance of chill winds, the dress of the People changed. Buckskin leggings covered red-brown legs, soft hide shirts hid bronzed chests, and moccasins rose to the knee. Coats and robes and body blankets draped broad, muscled shoulders. My deviancy apparently now clasped me in a firm grip, as I frankly preferred the summer months, when the men’s habit usually consisted solely of loincloths. Although tempted by none beyond my ability to resist, there was nothing to prevent me from enjoying the sight of such flagrant masculinity. I knew full well that Cut peeked down a maidenly bosom on more than one occasion.
We decided to accompany the People on their trek south to haul the heavier provisions in the Conestoga. This was my
