Please refer to the first story for background details.
Jer headed West down the lonely trail, following the sun, and just putting one foot in front of the other, for hour after hour. Late in the afternoon, he heard the sound of rushing water, and came to a small stream. He drank deeply, and quickly removed his nightshirt (his only piece of clothing), and ducked under the refreshing water. He rinsed his shirt out, and spread it out on a low bush, then lay down on the soft moss of the bank, a naked little boy, soaking up the sun's rays. Jer awoke later, to the smell of cooking. Grabbing his nightshirt, he walked slowly along the bank of the stream, following his nose until he came to a clearing where 3 gaily painted wagons were pulled up, with their horses, and what appeared to be about 20 adults and 7 children, dressed in colorful costumes, sitting around a large rock. Jer was about to yell when he heard a child crying, and saw a large man pulling a naked boy, about his age, out of one of the wagons. He shoved the boy down over the rock. He could hear angry voices. The boy turned his head toward the man, with tears running down his eyes, and seemed to be begging him. The man left, and went back to the wagon. The boy just leaned over the rock, his bare butt sticking up, hands now on the ground on one side, while his legs were off of the ground on the other. Jer saw the man emerge carrying a short leather thing, which he knew was some sort of whip. The man stood to the boy's left, and raised the whip up over his shoulder. He brought it quickly down onto the upright, outstretched buttocks. The whip seemed to hang for a second as it compressed the butt cheeks, then it was sharply raised. Jer could see a white mark form, as the boy's legs kicked out, and he flailed his arms. His scream of pain rushed over Jer like the wind. The man then laid a second stroke just below the first, which was now turning a brilliant red. This stroke too brought a trememdous reaction from the boy, whose continued screams filled the air. Now, two angry red welts crossed his butt cheeks as the whip once again visited, this time lower still. Waiting for the boy to settle back over the rock, the fourth stroke was right over the crease where his buttocks ended and his thighs began. It seemed to have been given with all of the man's might, and caused the boy to rear up, almost straight, as his legs flew up, and then seperated, as if he were swimming. This seemed to be what the man was looking for, as he deftly moved to the rear, and laid another stroke directly down the boy's butt crack. The boy screamed and screamed, and the ugly welts were visible even from Jer's hiding place. A final stroke across the top of the boy's butt seemed an anti-climax, as he hardly even yelled.
The crowd stood up, and went to the big cooking pot, and started getting their supper, indiferent to the still writhing boy on the rock. Jer could see the deep welts, and purple stripes on his butt as the boy finally got up. He walked to the now eating man, and said something. The man smiled, and the boy walked carefully to the wagon, and disappeared.
Jer was beside himself with hunger, but instinctively knew that these were dangerous people. He carefuly crept away, and again fell asleep on the mossy bank, to the sound of crickets, and his growling stomach.