Monday , June the Twenty-Eighth
This morning Sir Hammerhorn returned from the hunt for the Skinwalker . They found the corpse of a boy , withered and dried , nestled inside the rotting corpse of a bison . He was holding onto the burnt daguerreotype of a railroad worker . It was a portrait of Mr . Frew , his father .
Percy has been much celebrated by the townswomen since word got round that he threw the wolf pelt on the fire . He did what he was hired to do , noble fellow . The women of the town have named their one street after him , " Longville ." There ' s talk of changing the town ' s name as well .
Perhaps the old woman wanted to lead us to her boy to stop his rampage . Thunderboy told me that she truly believed that all life was precious , and her son ' s plot for revenge must have caused her much distress . All told , he killed over thirty people .
The last I saw her , I wept . She was buried at her small home , where we had met Thunderboy . But I spoke the words that killed her son , and now my legacy is forever connected to this horrible slaughter and that waste of millions of lives — human and buffalo — across the plains of America . I understand why the beast had to be stopped , but I was sorry .
Wednesday , June the Thirtieth
The train has been fixed . Thunderboy has joined our journey . I would not have thought him suited to travel — he did not look like he could afford it , if I may speak plainly . But there is something mysterious about him that I ' m certain I must discover !
Percy joined me in the dining car and was insistent on showing me all of the little pictures ,