Well, when I was makin' me way west, me 'n Liam, we both were amazed at how big the place is. And the variety......plains with farms, wide rivers, mountains, lots of mountains, some of them shaped so odd too. You ever been to the Black Hills, doubt Ireland has anythin' like em?"

"We passed through them on the way through Dakota, yes." Aoife confirmed. "They're certainly something else. Who'd have thought a forest could grow down the side of a mountain?"

"Then all the people too - folk from all sorts of countries from Europe along with negroes and Injuns of course too. Even up north here, seems to me some folk hate the negro more than they hate the Irish? I don't mind 'em none. Few I ever talked to seemed decent enough. Now Injuns...never actually talked to any but about now don't think I want to take the chance to either."

Aoife nodded along. "I think the negro folk'll probably have a hard time for some years yet. Goodness knows it took the Americans their fair share of time to outlaw their purchase and trade. As for the Indians, well, that struggle is still struggling." she said. "Tensions'll be high so long as their folk keep killing white folk and white folk keep killing theirs."

Aoife had grown up in a place where the right of one man to own another had long since been abolished, as enforced by the crown at least, but for some people here that right was one in living memory. The war that had come with it did not help defuse tensions either. Ironic, for a country founded in principles of liberty and freedom.

She gave Abraham a cautious pat on the neck, his tawny hair coarse to the touch. As they traveled, she began to grow more comfortable with the ride, and found herself relaxing her grip on the saddle horn a little.

"Have you met many others, out here? Aside from that prospector, I mean." she asked. If there was gold to be found in these hills, then surely there would be a few entrepreneurial souls trawling the forests and streams.

"They should go east n' see the size of our cities and how many of us there are. That might realize then it's over for them." Robert suggested, to which Aoife nodded in agreement.

"Aye, big cities is right. I'd never really been in one until we came into Boston harbor, that was like a whole other world."

"Not often though. Mostly folk passin' thru... sort of like you, only none of 'em were as pretty as you." Robert answered to her question, and Aoife felt a touch of heat rising to her face, enough that she glanced away, pretending to be interested in one of the plants they were passing.

"That's kind of you to say." she said simply, but added nothing more, for the comment had left her feeling rather embarrassed. Being rescued from the harsh woods and ever-present Indians like a damsel from a dime novel was unbecoming enough.

For a time she was quiet, letting the awkwardness fade before speaking again. To occupy her mind, she kept her eyes glued to the ground, attempting to pick out mushrooms she recognized, and every so often pointing one out to Robert. Parasol mushrooms, penny buns, chantrelles, and there, even a rare cluster of fly agaric.

"Amanita Muscaria." she told the young prospector, pointing out the red-and-white-spotted toadstool. "They're mildly toxic, enough to make you see things, but usually not enough to kill you. Though I'm told if you boil them long enough, they can be safe to eat."

"Interestin', I never picked any meself ya know. As with my luck I'd eat some poisonous ones and keel over and die. So you eat 'em i take it? The edible ones of course. Are they good?"

"Ha, well, sometimes. Depends on how you cook them." she told him. "Honestly, I've never been all that good at cooking. Which is funny, you know, because I had plenty of practice, with my Ma when I was little."

She shifted a little in the saddle as Abraham crested a rise in the ground, but her firm grip on the horn kept her from becoming all too dislodged.

"It's good to know which are which, though, living out here." she continued, and after some pause she added; "I could draw you some. If you'd like. A sort of list, maybe, telling you which're good and which're bad?"

"Well, to be truthful I never learned how to read or write. But I could certainly look at yer drawin's couldn't I now? Thank ye, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like that indeed."

"Not at all." Aoife replied. "It would be the least I could do."

The least it would be too, considering Robert had put his hunt and his livelihood on hold to bring her into town. Not to mention that the idea of him choking to death on his own vomit in the woods because he ate a bad mushroom left a poor impression on the mind.

As for his illiteracy, well, it seemed fairly standard for frontier folk, or indeed, most folk. The rest of her family had never bothered with reading or writing, and admittedly; it seemed a rather silly endeavor, given everything else that one had to watch for out here.

"Very well then, I'll come up with them as soon as I'm able. I should like to do a few sketches of the land around here as well, which should make for a worthwhile trip. Maybe I could teach you some letters, too. If you'd like." she offered. As like as not, Robert would care very little for literacy, but it was worth a suggestion.

"Oh thanks but no need. I'm too old now to learn such things."

Aoife nodded in understanding, she had expected as much. It was likely for the best, anyway, as she could not imagine having the patience to be a pleasant teacher.

"Although... on a few occasions I bin called upon to sign me name to certain papers. I have to trust the person there with the papers then, that he be tellin' me the truth of what all those words are sayin'. Maybe I could bring 'em ta you and you could read 'em and then let me know exactly what's on the pages. I mean next time of course."

"Aye, I could do that." she told him, though it was an odd request. She couldn't imagine who might come knocking about demanding Robert's signature, and it may well be that he was already being taken advantage of.

"Papers about hunting for gold and the like, you mean?"