Cornelia Meigs, The Black Sheep's Coat
“ The sun was just coming up through the winter fog, a round red ball like a midsummer moon, when Andrew set forth next morning, the little bag of money safe beneath his coat, the scant bundle of Drusilla's provisions under his arm. A great, long-legged shadow strutted before him, seeming to mock at him and his fantastic errand. To come face to face with the lurking Indians, to explain that the white men had used their corn and wished to repay them, surely it was impossible. Yet Andrew shook his head doggedly and repeated almost aloud, "If I do not succeed, I will never come back." ”
