REBECCA Boone understood that things had reached a point of desperation. It was clear to her that there was no way she could carry her 6'6 husband anywhere. She had tried, briefly, to drag him on a makeshift sledge she had crafted, but he was far too heavy, and she far too weak. The last few days had taken a toll on her, not just emotionally but physically. She hadn't slept, and hadn't really eaten. Although she was dry now, she had been cold far too long, and was fairly certain she was feverish.

As for Daniel, he was no longer responsive, and she couldn't rouse him. He was flushed with fever and she feared his wounds had already become infected. She understood that things were dire, and worse, understood her only course of action at this point was something she'd never dreamed of doing.

It took every ounce of strength she could muster to drag him by sledge to a small grove of trees and low bushes. She stood in the darkening afternoon sunlight studying, taking in deep gulps of air, and trying to regain her strength. He lay motionless at her feet. When she had caught her breath she stood behind him, and leaning low, pulled him inch by inch by the collar of his shirt deep into the bushes. She had shut her mind off to any thought but completing this task: get him hidden away, and get headed toward home and help. It was only after she had managed to drag him into the bushes and cover him with branches and leaves that she realized what she was really doing, and her eyes filled with tears, that spilled out making tracks down her cheeks. She dropped to her knees beside him, trying to will him awake, so that she could make him understand.

"I'm not abandoning you." She told him. "I'm coming right back. But I can't," Here she paused, swallowing a sob. "I can't carry you home. You are too big. Mingo is right - you eat far too many of my biscuits." She stifled a bitter laugh and then leaned closer so that her lips brushed his cheek even as she spoke. "Dan, I swear, I'm coming straight back. You just rest for now and I'll get help. I know it isn't much farther, and who knows if there isn't some hunter nearby. You just keep breathing. Just for a little while longer." She kissed her burning lips. "I'll be right back." She told him. She stood over him a minute more, silently praying, one hand stretched toward him as though she could somehow heal him with her prayers. "I'll be right back." She repeated staggering backwards and away from him for a few steps before turning from her beloved, she ran with every ounce of strength.

***DB***

In the stillness of the darkened forest, a young Tahontaenrat paused at the strange scene before him. He watched as the woman with fiery hair dragged a man into the dense bushes, covering him with branches and leaves. She rose slowly and then ran from him without glancing backwards. He wondered at it. He thought at first the tall man was dead, and perhaps she had killed him, and was trying to hid her mistake, but as she ran past where he was hidden, and he saw that she was weeping. "It must be her lover." He watched her considering his next move. He was not unfamiliar with the dangers of the people from across the waters. His own sister had died from the sickness they brought, yet there was something in the woman's face that he couldn't ignore; determination and desperation. He waited until she was lost from view and made his way to where her lover lay. Kneeling beside him, he thought at first the man were dead, but then saw his broad chest rise and fall. He glanced behind him, considering his next move. Perhaps he should kill the man now and end his suffering. He studied the man's face which was grey with sickness. No good could ever come from helping the strangers who seemed to infiltrate deeper and deeper into their territory. He glanced up at the sky, and recognized it was time for him to return home. He walked away from the man, still deep in thought, unsure what to do next.

***DB***

The darkness did not slow her. Rebecca Boone was fortunate that the moon was nearly full, and lit her way. She only had a vague sense of where she was headed, but understood the general direction of the settlement. Her mind flashed back to just a few days earlier when she and Daniel had stood atop the mountain and she'd tried to show him that she understood where she was - mostly she was just being playful and not really listening to his words. They'd fallen into kissing and the memory of it pained her - not simply because she feared she'd never see him again, but also because she had missed her chance to get clearer directions. If only I had really listened. She thought.

She was weak, too. She recognized that. She kept stumbling as she ran; tripping over bushes or branches. She understood, however, that if she paused even for the briefest of rest, she might not be able to rise. Still running, but having slowed some, her breath came in shuddering gasps. A dizziness swept over her, but she ran on not really seeing anything around her and she found her mind slipping backwards in time - lost in an old, sweet memory.

The cabin was warm, a bright fire burning, and it was just the two of them - or

perhaps James were lying asleep in his snug little bed, her memory was unclear. She only remember it was night, snow was falling all around him, and she had just finished cleaning up from their quiet supper. Daniel sat at the hearth, a dulcimer in his hands, he strummed absently, humming softly. She moved around the cabin, setting things right, but listening to the comforting sweetness of his voice. She stood watching him, and her memory was clearer here, he was singing to James who he rocked in a cradle at his feet. Her heart ached with the beauty of it, and for a moment she stood watching him. He paused in his playing and looked up at her. "What is it, ah grah?" He asked, and the combination of his sweetness toward their baby son, and his kind voice speaking to her half in English and half in Irish caused her eyes to fill with sudden tears. Seeing her tears, he set the dulcimer aside and went to her, his strong hands on her arms. "'Becca?" She said nothing, burying herself in his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, cooing softly in her ear. "It's alright, love." He whispered softly. "Hush now."

Lost in the memory, her foot caught on a large root and she found herself tumbling forward, crashing to the ground and rolling down the steep bank toward the icy water of the river.

***DB***

They called him Okhmhaka, which meant little wolf, partly because he was smaller than all his brothers, and partly because of his fierceness. He found sleep impossible, and his mind kept drifting back to the sick man covered with branches and the woman, running and terrified. His wife finally said to him, "What is it? Something is wrong." He told her then, knowing that he never could keep secrets from her. She always knew when something troubled him.

"We must help him." She said, throwing back the covers, and already rising.

"Sisika," He said to her. "He is sick and hurt, and it is dangerous."

"Life is dangerous." She pointed out, and he shook his head. She was stubborn and fierce and he realized that is what he had seen in the red-haired woman's face.

"We can wait for the dawn." He said.

"You said he was very sick." She was already gathering her basket of medicines. "Bring a blanket." She pointed.

"He might be dead, already." He told her, reaching for a blanket.

"He might." She agreed. "We will know soon enough."

***DB***

She couldn't find the canoe, and she didn't know if it was upstream or downstream from where she stood. Her feet were in the icy river, and her whole left side wet from her tumble down to the water. It was still deep night but she could see hints of the coming dawn. She wondered if daylight would bring clarity to her mind. She wondered if Daniel would be dead by daylight. She wondered if Daniel were dead already.

The darkness of sky seemed to match her desperate mood, and took a few steps upstream, and then suddenly remembering Daniel's voice saying, "If trouble comes, Darlin' just head downstream. Even if you are on the wrong side of the river, it will lead you home." She turned around and trudged alongside the river, knowing that walking was so much slower than taking a canoe. She was already wet to the knees, and so when she stumbled upon a log floating in the water, she plunged in, and kicking her feet pushed herself toward home.

It was just as the sky began to turn a silvery gray, the clouds promising rain, that she began to recognize some of her surroundings. She could no longer feel her feet or legs - actually couldn't feel anything at all. She struggled up out of the water, and stumbled toward the muddy shore. She landed face first in the mud, and was too tired to even lift her head. Pushing up on shaking arms, she glanced around, her vision blurred by tears as she realized that she was less than a day from the fort. She staggered up the muddy shore, and realized that she had pulled herself out of the icy creek at a point that was hemmed in by steep and rocky sides. She shook her head, frustrated at herself, and then slowly crawled up the rocky sides, not even noticing any scrapes or bruises. When she finally hauled herself up and over the edge, she lay breathless, staring up into a blue morning sky.

***DB***

"He is not dead." Sisika told her husband. "But he soon will be."

"Leave him, then." He told her. "Do not waste your herbs on him."

"You are so quick to believe the worst." She chuckled. "Help me, drag him out of this." They pulled him free of the branches, and lay him on the grass. He spread the blanket over his legs, as Sisika, examined the angry wounds that crisscrossed his chest.

"Knife wounds." She remarked, shaking her head, and reaching for her basket of herbs. "We do not need to fight the white man, if we wait long enough, they will kill each other."

He leaned closer, peering into the man's face. "He looks dead already. She will grieve for him. Perhaps she already is. Why do you think she ran?" He asked.

"She couldn't carry him. He is near death. Do you think she went to her people for help?" She was applying a poultice to his wounds.

"She is miles from any settlement." He pointed out. "She looked hurt herself, and she is a woman. I doubt she could travel so far."

"You are wrong. I would travel to the other side of the great waters if I thought it would save you. It wouldn't matter if I were hurt, or tired; I would travel to the very ends of the lands."

"You would." He agreed. "But you are a warrior and she was a white woman."

"Love makes all of us warriors." She said looking up at him. "Build a fire, please." He nodded at her, leaving her to her work, and pondering her words. Was it possible? Did the settlers feel the same for one another, as he did for Sisika?

***DB***

Carolina Yadkin was not one to be tied down. He felt trapped almost the very second he walked into the fort. He accepted the welcome of friends he hadn't seen in years, but felt that in his time away, the settlement had grown crowded with people. His only consolation was to see how much little Israel and grown. He'd spent the day visiting with him, and Jemimah, who had been thrilled to hear their parents would soon return. It was on his fourth day home, that he had left the settlement on the pretense of hunting, but really to see if he could find Daniel. He was concerned that the Boones hadn't returned, although, he recognized that Daniel's propensity toward sparking with Rebecca might place a considerable delay on things, he thought for sure once they came near the settlement, nothing would deter Missus Boone from returning to her little chicks.

He headed toward the river and was chasing down a fat turkey near the banks, when a figured stumbled forward, muddy and nearly unrecognizable.

"Rebecca?" He asked, momentarily frozen with shock. "What . . . where's . . . "

She staggered forward a few steps, and fell to the ground at his feet. He sprang forward then, reaching down, and trying to help her up by her arm. She was ice cold, and realizing she was too weak to even stand, he lifted her up into his arms, dropping his rifle to the ground.

"Let's get you to the fort." He said.

"Dan." She said.

"Is he nearby? What happened?" He felt a sudden panic. Was Daniel dead?

"Up river. By a grove of . . . they were cottonwood, I think. I left markers, I think. Leave me be. I can get back. Go."

"I'll get you to the settlement first. " He shifted her in his arms, seeing the walls of the fort in the distance, and trying to remember who was on watch. "Tolliver! Peter!" He called out. "Someone get out here!"

Rebecca was sure she was dreaming. She could hear the distant ringing of the bell, and her vision clouded. At first she was sure saw Yadkin, and then his face changed to Cinncinatus, and then morphed into the face of her friend Grace.

"Lie back, Becky." Grace said soothingly. "Lie back."

"Daniel. . . " She said weakly, sure that she was lost in a fevered dream.

"They went to find him. You must rest." Grace pushed firmly on her shoulder.

"I have to keep moving." She said struggling forward.

"Becky, no!" Grace's voice was sharp and startled, Rebecca looked around.

"Where . . .?"

"You are in my cabin. You made it back, though I can't see how. Yadkin found you and brought you here. They went out to find Daniel. They'll find him. You must rest."

"I made it?" She asked, looking up into her friend's face.

"Yes." Grace said, pushing down on her shoulder. "Now, close your eyes. You must rest, Becky."

"I have to help them find him. It is days from here and . . ."

"They will find him. Yadkin can track near as well as Dan, and Matt won't come back without him. Lie down and sleep." Grace pulled the blankets up around Rebecca who still shivered with cold. "Close your eyes and when you wake, perhaps he will be here already."

"He was so . . ." Rebecca said softly. "Grace, he might be . . ."

"Hush, now. Sleep."

***DB***

Daniel was aware of someone hovering over him, and fully expected to open his eyes to Rebecca's face. He was surprised to find himself looking into the unfamiliar eyes of an Indian woman. She turned from his gaze and spoke rapidly to someone behind her. He recognized the language but not the words; she spoke too quickly and his brain was far too muddled.

"Rebecca?" He called out. "Rebecca?" He attempted to rise, but found he was caught with a searing pain. The woman shook her head at him, and a man moved into view, his hand pushing down on him. He spoke directly to Daniel, but he couldn't absorb the words.

"Where is my wife?" He found he was filled with a fear-fueled rage. "What have you done?"

The woman spoke to the man again, and slowly his fogged brain began to untangle the language; it was a dialect of Iroquis. Where was he? Where was Rebecca?

"He doesn't understand." The man was saying.

"Well, he is strong. Hold him down for me!" She answered.

"No, let him be. We've done enough. I'm not going to fight him. He'll fall over in two steps."

"Stop being unreasonable." She responded. "He is asking for her, don't you think? What would you do if you awoke alone with strangers and me gone?"

"No one could hold me back." He said, turning back to look at the man. "Look! I think he is listening. Can you understand?" He asked.

"Rebecca." Was all Daniel can manage.

"She went for help." Okhmhaka said slowly. "She left you covered with branches and ran toward the river."

"Rebecca." He repeated.

"He is delirious with sickness." Sisika said. "Could we carry him to the settlement?"

"Not with him fighting us all the way." Okhmhaka considered the situation thoughtfully. "You can manage him?" He asked his wife.

"Like you said, he takes two steps and he'll topple over. If he wants to get moving I'll just step out of the way."

"Fine. I'll head toward the settlement."

"They'll kill you!" She rose up, reaching out to take his arm.

"There is a leader here. They say he will listen before he shoots."

"How will you find him?" She asked. "No, it is too dangerous!"

"You are the one who said we had to help him. This was all your idea." He pointed out.

"Please, we will restore him to health and send him on his way. Do not go!"

"It could be weeks. No, this will put an end to things faster, and when have I ever failed to return home to you?" He said.

"You are being unreasonable!" Sisika said angrily, and they both turned their heads at Daniel's soft chuckle.

"Why is he laughing?"

"He understands us." Okhmhaka said wonderingly. "You do, don't you?"

"Yes." Daniel responded.

"Who are you?" Sisika asked stepping back and away from him.

"I am one you have helped. And she is right," He continued weakly. "You should not go to the settlement. I can walk."

Okhmhaka laughed out loud. "You cannot. And I am not afraid. There is one there who will listen that is what the people have said."

"There is." Daniel agreed.

"It is you." Sisika said turning to her husband. "He is the one they speak of - you must not go."

"I will do as I will." He answered stubbornly. "No woman will stop me."

"Oh, that is so?" She responded quietly. "You are saying this to me? I am not a woman. I am your wife, and I will not be left without you. You will not go!" She exploded angrily.

"You could be Rebecca's sister." Daniel said, his eyes drifting shut. He felt dizzy and tired. "Take my hat."

"What?"

"If he takes my hat, everyone will know it, and no harm will come to him." He said opening his eyes to look at Sisikia. "I promise it."

"I do not trust the promises of those such as you." She said haughtily.

"Nor should you." Daniel sighed, his eyes closing. "Please, my wife, I do not know where she is. They must find her. She was hurt, too. She is my own and I cannot be without her."

Sisikia studying the sick man who was already drifting back into a fevered haze of sleep. She turned to her husband.

"It is the same for them." She furrowed her brows. "Is that possible?"

"It must be so. That is what I told you. If you had seen her face you would know this already."

"You must go then. Take his hat. I will stay."

"If tries to fight you . . ."

"I will run away. I am fast, and he is weak. You, however, must be careful."

"I always am." He grinned at her. "I will return." He kissed her cheek briefly, and scooping up the hat, he turned from her. "I'll be right back." He called as he disappeared from view.

***DB***

Rebecca had left markers - broken branches, and bits of cloth. When they had found her, the breeches she had been wearing were ripped at the bottom, where she'd torn off cloth to mark her way. The path was not a straight line, and doubled back a time or two.

"We already came this way." Mingo said impatiently.

"She was near dead." Yadkin scolded. "She could barely stand."

"I'm not saying . . ." Mingo responded frustrated. "Stop it. Both of you." Matt interrupted. "Fighting won't help us find him. She said a grove of cottonwood?"

"Yes, but she was delirious. I don't know how she walked so far. And she wasn't sure. She didn't sound sure." Yadkin told them.

They had been travelling for hours, first along the river, and then up across the shore. As the day wore on, the worry grew for all of them. Rebecca Boone had stumbled into the settlement weak, injured and nearly starved - if she were so badly ill, what possible hope could they have of finding Daniel alive.

It was in the late afternoon that they saw a figure emerge from the forest. The men froze, watching and then their eyes grew wide with shock at the improbably site of young warrior wearing a coonskin cap. Yadkin charged at him in fury.

"What have you done?" He screamed grabbing the man by his shoulders, and shaking him. "Where is he?"

The warrior twisted away and stood low on his haunches, a knife in his hand ready to strike.

"Dad, blame it, Yadkin!" Matt said angrily. "Stop it!"

He approached the young man, his hands up in surrender. "Easy there now. We don't mean no harm. We're just wondering about your hat." He pointed at the man's head, but unable to understand Matt's words, the man did not drop his arm, but instead spoke quickly and sharply.

"I don't know that language. Yadkin?" He turned to Yadkin, who shook his head.

"Iriqouis, maybe. I don't know it. Dan'l does some."

"The hat." Matt repeated, this time tapping his head for emphasis. The young man hesitated then, his eyes flicked upward toward the hat on his head. He spoke again, but his voice was quieter. His arm lowered slowly.

"The hat?" Matt asked again. "Where?"

They found themselves following the young warrior into the darkness of the forest proper, Yadkin muttering the whole way about sure doom and ambush. It was just after an hour of walking that they found themselves looking down at the ashen face of Daniel Boone, who lay near death beside a small girl, who rose up in fear as they approached.

"No, no." Mingo said gently to her. He lifted his hands, as the young warrior stepped in front of her, pointing and speaking angrily. Mingo knelt beside Daniel who was not awake. "Thank you. " He said looking up at the couple. "We will take him now."

They found the makeshift sledge that Rebecca had constructed and added more branches, they worked quickly and silently, under the watchful eye of the warrior and his wife. As they struggled to lift Daniel onto it, the warrior stepped away from his wife, and knelt with them, lending a hand. As they began to drag him away, the woman took hold of Matt's arm, handing him a small cloth bag filled with herbs. She spoke rapidly, pointing to Daniel's shoulder and Matt nodded, understanding.

"I will." He told her. "Thank you."

They worked together to bring him out of the darkness of the forest before the sun had fully set, and Matt glanced back once over his shoulder, his last view of place where they'd found Daniel, of the couple standing together - watchful and proud, a coonskin hat perched on the warrior's head.

"We left his hat." Matt remarked.

"Rebecca will thank us for it." Mingo said.

"Only if he lives." Matt responded.

"Time will tell." Yadkin's voice had none of it's usual bluster and boldness; his very words tinged with fear.

***DB***

Rebecca opened her eyes, and immediately tried to sit up. She was hit with an immediate searing pain, and couldn't stop herself from crying out.

"You woke up!" Grace Bradley said, coming into the room. "Lie back. You broke some ribs."

"I thought I'd dreamed it."

"No dream. Yadkin found you just outside the settlement and brought you here. Your skin was white as snowdrifts - cold as snow, too."

"Daniel must be dead." Rebecca said flatly. "He was badly hurt, and I couldn't carry him home. I tried to build a sledge, but he is a giant and . . ."

"Becky, they found him. They brought him here, not an hour ago."

Rebecca sat upright, ignoring the piercing pain. "Take me to him."

"Becky . . ." Grace began but considering her friend, she knew there would be no denying her. "He's not out of the woods. He was sick and hurt. Cinncinatus is with him." She helped Rebecca stand, and wrapped a robe around her. "Lean on my shoulder. I'll put my arm round you."

They moved slowly out of the room, and down the dim hallway. Rebecca caught a glimpse of a full moon as they made their way past a window. "How long have I . . ."

"Yesterday. Yadkin found you yesterday, and they all went out right away. They followed your trail, and found him and brought him here. He was in bad shape. What on earth happened to you?"

"There were . . ." Rebecca began, but immediately felt her heart begin to pound, as she even considered it.

"Never mind." Grace said, squeezing her friend's hand. She kept one arm around Rebecca supporting her as they moved down the back hallway of the tavern. Daniel was kept just down the hall from the room they'd put Rebecca in - it was Cinncinatus' own bedroom. Rebecca leaned heavily into Grace, and with one arm across her own body, held onto Grace's free hand.

"He's just in here." Grace said, hesitating outside the open door to Cinncinatus' room. Mingo stepped out just then his eyes widening with surprise.

"She's up? How?"

"Where is he?" Rebecca cried out, frantic.

"Just in here." Mingo said, and glancing at Grace, took Rebecca from Grace's arm, and half-led, half-carried her into the bedroom.

Daniel lay on the bed, his face pale, but his cheeks bright pink with fever. Cinncinatus stood on the other side of the bed, looking at Daniel's wounded shoulder. He glanced up.

"Grace. What are you doing? She shouldn't be here."

Mingo helped Rebecca sit on the side of the bed.

"You think I could stop her?" Grace asked, coming around to look at the shoulder. "Witch-hazel." She said knowningly.

"I know that." Cinncinatus barked angrily. "What do you think I been doing?"

It might have blown into a real argument, but they all grew silent, as Rebecca leaned close to Daniel's face and said, softly, "Daniel?" She reached out with a shaking hand and ran it along his grey skin. "He's burning up." She said turning to Cinncinatus.

"Believe it or not, he's fever's actually come down some." He told her. "You should be back in bed. You aren't well."

"Dan," She said, ignoring the older man. "I'm right here. We made it home."

"Mattie," Grace turned to her husband. "Go bring in one of those cots. She won't go back to that other room, now."

"That's the truth." Matt said, reaching out and to pat his wife's hand. He left the room only to return minutes later with a cot. The room was still quiet when he returned with only Rebecca speaking. She spoke in Irish though, so no one understood her. He felt his heart flutter with panic. Was she speaking it because she was delirious? Had she forgotten English?

"Tá tú ag ceart go leor mo ghrá. Táimid sábháilte anois. Ná fág mé anois. Thaistil muid go dtí seo le chéile. Riachtanais mo chroí mise. Le do thoil, le do thoil ná fág. Fan liom. Daniel, grá agam duit do gach ceann de ama."

He couldn't understand it, but recognized the sweet, imploring tones. He could imagine what she was saying to him, and glanced up to catch Grace's eye. His own wife's face was streaked with tears, and he wanted to go to her, but instead turned his attention back to the two who occupied the center of the crowded room.

"Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil tú traochta, grá, ach amháin ar oscailt do shúile mo milis, ach ar feadh nóiméad. gá dom a fhios go bhfuil tú ceart go leor."

Daniel's eyelids flickered and the softest moan came from his lips, and Rebecca leaned in closer.

"Daniel?"

"Becca?" His voice was weak but they could all hear it.

"Yes!" Rebecca said, sobbing. "Yes! I am right here. We are safe. We are home!" She leaned over kissing his cheek again and again.

"Becca," He repeated softly, his green eyes opening slowly.

She leaned close to hear him better. "What?" She asked. "What is it?"

"My hat. " He gasped out slowly. "You . . . got rid . . .of it."

She burst into real tears then, laughing and crying all at once, as Daniel's eyes fluttered shut again. She attempted a response, wanting to tell him that she would cross the entire wilderness to find his missing hat if only he would keep breathing, but the exhaustion of her walk to his room, and the pain of her injuries proved too much, and she fell over, just as Matt Bradley caught her, lowering her onto the cot.

He leaned back against the doorway, in exhaustion. "These two." He gestured toward the Boone's. Grace crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around him, he kissed her forehead, ignoring the others in the room. "What do you say Cinncinatus?"

"I dunno." The old man rubbed his chin. "Any other man would be dead already. We'll have to keep an eye on that shoulder, and those scratches on his chest need some watching too. I imagine between Grace and I, we can get him healthy again."

"I'll get some more witchhazel."

"No, you'll get some rest." Cinncinatus told her. "Matt will get the witch hazel, after he tucks you in bed in that other room. I'll keep an eye on these two and you can take over tomorrow."

"I'll be right back." Matt said, guiding his wife out of the room and down the hall.

"Becky needs a blanket." Grace said sleepily.

"Mingo was getting her one."

"Do you think he'll survive?" She asked her husband.

"Well, he is Daniel Boone after all." Matt told her, as he led her back into the bedroom where Rebecca had been sleeping. He pulled the covers back, and Grace sat on the bed. "They say he is tall as the mountains and stronger still. They say there is no one stronger than him." He reached down lifting her legs and tucking them under the covers. He paused, his hand brushing lightly over her forehead.

"They haven't met his wife." Grace replied sleepily.

"Truer words, ain't never been spoke." He agreed thoughtfully. "The strongest warrior cannot match the strength of woman's heart." He told her. "Least that's what the Cherokee say."

The tavern grew silent and the stars revealed themselves one by one, shining down on the room where exhausted but safe, at long last, the Boones slept, their closest friends keeping a watchful vigil over them both.

***Author's Note***

A miracle. I wrote again. Sorry for the long delay. No excuses, though, just apologies. Would love another Dan and Becky story, friends and hoping someone has one hidden up their sleeves. Meanwhile, this little chapter is my offering.