Her back would ache from holding the oar steady as a rudder in the rough waters. Tears streamed down her face and she did not care to wipe them. With her shoulders thrown back, Rebecca opened her soul to the river, shouting out the song that had rolled over her all the long winter.
The Bones, Wooing, Chapter 2
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song!
Over the rising and sinking waves—over the myriad fields, and the prairies wide;
Over the dense-pack’d cities all, and the teeming wharves
and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O Death!
She was the last one living the frontier life, and it was her duty to carry the past forward as her parents, and theirs, and theirs had.
by Laura Wythe
laurawythe 