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  Caleb nodded and set off back down the trail to the house. Knocking on the door, he opened it and called out, “Lunette?”

  Coming around the corner of the fireplace, wiping her hands on her apron, she answered, “Yes, Caleb, I’m here. What is it?”

  Caleb gave her a wry smile. “Your father thinks that we ought to go fishing. He would like some eel for breakfast, if we can manage that.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “We may be able to, at that. There’s a spot where the trap has yielded a good catch in the past.” Untying the apron, she hung it up and said, “Come with me, we’ll fetch the trap and some bait.”

  They walked together out to the barn, where she showed him the trap where it hung on the wall. An elongated, open-weave basket nearly as long as Caleb was tall, it had a funnel-shaped lid inserted into and fastened with pegs into the open end, so that the slippery fish could readily enter, but could not as easily escape. He reached up and removed it from where it hung, and then followed her back toward the house.

  “Just wait here,” she called over her shoulder as she went down the short stairwell to the cellar door. “I’ve some mutton that’s gotten a bit too high … better that the eels have it than Papa and I.”

  Caleb rested one end of the heavy trap on the ground until Lunette emerged, her nose wrinkled up in distaste, carrying a mutton steak that was an unhealthy-looking green-grey in color. As she drew closer, he could smell why she had her nose wrinkled up—the meat was quite a bit past being merely “high”—it was downright foul.

  “Here,” he said, and began unpegging the top of the trap. “Just put it in here, and we can hold it well away from ourselves.” The breeze shifted a bit, and he caught another whiff of it. “Mercy! Are you certain that that won’t chase the eels away?”

  She laughed, a sound that always lifted his heart, and he grinned merrily back at her. He swung the lid open and held the top of the trap toward her, so that she could drop the meat into it. Pulling a series of faces that made her laugh even louder, he refastened the pegs, and then swung the trap up onto his shoulder, the smelly end behind him.

  “Lead on, Lunette, that we may get this under water as quickly as possible.”

  “As you command, Caleb,” she replied, and stepped lightly out ahead of him. He followed her down the slope to the shoreline, and they started to pick their way along the rocks. The shoreline was narrow, hemmed in on one side by the water, and on the other by the rising cliff that dropped down from the body of the bluff.

  “If I were alone, I would simply swim from here,” she called over her shoulder to him.

  Puzzled, he answered, “Why only if you were alone? That seems more dangerous than with company.”

  She stopped and fixed him with an exasperated look. “If I were alone, I would simply leave my clothing here that I could swim without encumbrance. Since you are with me, I do not think that is a very good idea.”

  Caleb wished that his time around Lunette were not so often punctuated with blushes that seemed to run all the way down to his toes. “I … uh … no.”

  She giggled at his discomfiture, and dashed up to him, kissing him quickly and then skipping away over the rocks, calling out, “You’re so cute when you blush! Come along, keep up!”

  Though they quickly enough reached the place where the trap should be placed, there was no chance at all that Caleb would ever be able to find the spot himself at a later date, as he remembered nothing of that day after the instant that Lunette’s lips left his.

  Caleb and Captain Mallett were just fitting the last of the shaped ribs into the first canoe when the sound of the village church bell pealed out faintly over the woods.

  Straining to fit the cedar slat under the gunwale as it pulled the birch bark skin taut as a drumhead, Mallett grunted, “Must be that someone has had a house afire.”

  Caleb, who stood on the side opposite, holding the clamp that secured the other end of the slat, scanned the horizon above the woods, and said, “I don’t see any smoke.”

  With a last push, Mallett forced the rib under the rim of the gunwale, where it snapped against the birch bark and held its position. As the men grinned at their accomplishment, the bell continued to peal furiously.

  Mallett looked up and down the length of the canoe, nodding and grinning. “‘Tis a fine-looking craft,” he said. “We have only to seal the seams, and she’ll be ready for the lake. We will fit the last of the ribs into your canoe in a few days, once they have finished with the shaping.”

  He frowned toward the village, where the bell was still persisting. “I see no smoke, either, and yet they continue to ring. Perhaps there has been an attack by the Indians… though these Abenaki do not seem to have an interest in such warlike acts, these are certainly dangerous times once again. Let us be off, to see what aid might be needed.”

  Mallett did not bother to saddle his horse, but merely put the bit in the stallion’s mouth, and pulled himself up on its back. He called out to Caleb, “Here, you ride behind me. Louis is a strong horse, certainly a good deal stronger than his namesake on the throne in Versailles.” Both Mallett and the horse snorted, and Mallett added, “The horse is smarter, too.”

  Caleb smiled and took Mallett’s proffered hand to clamber up behind the older man. Scowling now at the still-pealing bell, Mallett growled, “Hold tight, lad, we’re going to ride hard.” Since he did not want to slide over the horse’s rump and find himself suddenly sitting on the road, Caleb heeded Mallett’s advice, clamping his hands around the rider’s wiry sides.

  With a nod, Mallett snapped the reins, and kicked the horse into a smooth, speedy pace over the ground. By the time they pulled up before the blockhouse, where a crowd had gathered, the bell had stopped pealing, but MacGregor stood at the top of the steps, reading loudly from a broadside.

  Captain Mallett and Caleb dismounted, and Mallett tied up his horse before they joined the crowd, coming into earshot of the general store proprietor.

  “…when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.”

  As he drew breath, the man beside Caleb whispered excitedly, “‘Tis a declaration of independence for the Colonies from the Crown, passed by the Congress this week past!” Caleb’s eyebrows went up, and even Mallett seemed surprised, pursing his lips thoughtfully and nodding to himself.

  “Such has been the patient sufferance of the Colonies, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.”

  MacGregor’s voice rang out clearly as he read through the long list of particular complaints against the King and Parliament, winding up to the conclusion.

  “We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent States, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce and to do all other acts and things which independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor!”

  As MacGregor lowered the broadside, his forehead shining with sweat and his face red with exertio
n, a great cheer arose from the crowd assembled before the blockhouse. Someone began ringing the church bell again, and Caleb felt his throat becoming raw before he even realized that he was contributing to the din himself.

  Looking around at the other people gathered, he saw men weeping openly and embracing, even those who had had long standing enmities between them. Mallett was smiling widely and nodding with a look of deep satisfaction on his face.

  He leaned close to Caleb and said into his ear, “‘Tis a fine, fine statement they’ve here published. Mark this moment well, lad, for you shall never see another so filled with import as this, so long as you live. I know that I have not, in my many years.”

  Caleb nodded, a grin still plastered across his face. He looked around the crowd, his expression growing more thoughtful. His eyebrows lifted in recognition as his father’s face appeared several yards distant, and Elijah waved to him and started in his direction.

  When he’d reached Caleb and Captain Mallett, he greeted his son with a great embrace. “I’m glad you were here, Caleb. ‘Tis fitting that you heard this, and ‘tis something you’ll tell your grandchildren about, I warrant.”

  Releasing Caleb, he turned to Mallett and extended his hand. “Jean-Pierre. Thank you for your part in bringing this about.”

  Mallett clasped Elijah’s hand. “This will put a burr under the English king’s saddle, for certain,” he said. “Your Congress has done well in telling the world what they stand against … one hopes that they will do so well at demonstrating what they stand for.”

  Elijah nodded, a small grimace crossing his face. “Aye, isn’t that always the difficult part?” He frowned, shaking his head. “‘Tis strange, hearing all of the King’s abuses listed together as they’ve done, to realize how much we have tolerated before coming to the point of rebellion … and now, independence. Taken day by day, most of it seems bearable, a mere nuisance, but all together … well, ‘tis a wonder we hadn’t declared independence long ago.”

  “I’ve long ago declared my independence from kings of all varieties,” said Mallett, with an exaggerated wink. “I bother not with them, and they bother not with me.”

  “A wise policy indeed,” laughed Elijah. His face turned suddenly serious, as he watched two men shoulder their way through the crowd on their way out of the village. Both had hard, angry expressions on their haughty faces, and seemed to care little about whose toes they trod upon as they passed.

  “That’ll be the McClintock brothers,” he said to Caleb. “Mind you keep your distance from them and their place. They’re Loyalists, through and through, and I’ve little doubt that they’ll be looking to cause trouble for those of us who have served in the militias.”

  Caleb asked, “As bad as that, Da?”

  Mallett spoke up. “Worse, lad. I’ve heard through people who I know that those two have been giving information to the English general Carleton, perhaps using an Indian as a messenger.” He spat. “They have, it is said, fond relations with the old Royal Governor in New York, and I once heard them boast at the tavern that they will buy these land grants from him, after the rebels are put down.”

  Elijah nodded. “I’ve heard much the same … and there’s no doubt that anyone on the rolls of the Green Mountain Boys would be treated without much regard at all, should that come to pass. As I said, Caleb, keep your distance from them.”

  He put his hand out again to Mallett. “I think, Captain, that we’d best be off for home. My wife and younger son will be wanting to know what all of the ruckus was about.”

  “I am certain that you are right, and my Lunette is a curious girl, too, and will want to know.” The two men exchanged a significant look at the mention of the girl’s name, and as Elijah glanced at Caleb, they shared a fleeting smile.

  “Caleb, will you have time tomorrow to work on gumming the first canoe?”

  Caleb looked to his father for confirmation before answering with a grin, “I’ll be around in the morning.”

  Upon their arrival home, Elijah described the scene at the blockhouse to Polly and Samuel. “As you can well imagine, the bells brought out most of the men of the district,” he said. “MacGregor came out upon the stair of the fort and read forth a declaration from the Continental Congress, just arrived from Philadelphia. They’ve declared the Colonies to be an independent nation, Polly, and never more a part of Great Britain at all!”

  Polly gasped, “Now will the King surely rain wrath upon these Colonies! This will stiffen the resolve of the British armies that even now stand at the northern end of this very lake. Elijah, I do not rejoice at this news at all … ‘tis a tiding of worse yet to come!”

  “I think not that the King’s armies will be any more or less effective for this news, Polly. Furthermore, I have faith in General Arnold’s ability to deny them mastery of this lake. The British have numbers, ‘tis true, but this is not their home, and they know not the lay of the land so well as we do.”

  “I do hope for the safety of us all that you are right, Elijah. I’ll not be comforted, though, until I hear of the British ships sailing for London, their Regulars and those Hessian mercenaries on board.”

  “I am eager for that day myself, Polly.”

  Samuel spoke up now, his face shining with excitement. “I hope they come all the way up to here,” he said, defiantly. “They’d be easier to hit than squirrel, and a sight slower, I’d wager. They might be able to take the water, but they could never hold this land.”

  Polly sighed and shook her head wearily. “I hope you’re right, Elijah, and that our bloodthirsty little hunter here never gets a chance to aim at an Englishman. Sam, the difference is that squirrels don’t shoot back.”

  “Neither do Redcoats, if you take them from behind, Ma.” Polly sighed again. “I promise, though, if I get myself a Redcoat, I won’t hang his tail from the rafter.” Polly closed her eyes and shook her head, an amused grimace on her face.

  “Thank you, Sam. I’m sure that I speak for us all when I say that I appreciate your consideration.”

  Elijah turned to Caleb now. “Son, I think it’s time that you had a talk with Captain Mallett about Lunette.” Polly’s jaw clenched briefly, but she kept her counsel.

  “What do you mean, Da?”

  “Well, it’s clear to us all that you have an interest in the girl—”

  “Da!” Caleb could already feel the tips of his ears growing hot.

  “Nobody’s objecting, son. It’s just that it’s proper for you to speak with her father before you commence to court her.”

  Caleb’s heart was racing even as he said, shaking his head in denial, “Da, she’s as much as said herself that she’d have no part of me, remember?”

  Elijah laughed. “That was before you tried to murder her, but changed your mind at the last minute.”

  Caleb made an exasperated sound. “I’ve told you all again and again that it was an accident, that I did not see her on the lake at all until she was in the lake. Anyway, if I had plotted the accident before the fact and my object was to gain her affection, do you think that I would have chanced losing her forever, before she could fall madly in love with me?”

  He shook his head quickly. “Not that she has, mind you, but if that were my plan, it seems a bit daft, don’t you think?”

  “I think, Caleb, that you would do well to speak to Captain Mallett, and then ask the girl directly whether she’s willing or not.”

  Polly finally spoke up, choosing her words with care. “I think, Caleb, that before you dismiss the chance that a girl has an interest in you, you owe it to yourself to at least ask her. Then, if she says no, you can set your sights on someone more suitable.” Elijah shot her a dark look, but said nothing.

  Caleb looked from one parent to the other, a look of disbelief on his face. “What makes you think that I’m so desperate to court right now, anyway?”

  Elijah shrugged. “You’re of an age where young men’s minds turn to such matters,” he said.

  Sam
uel piped up, laughter in his voice, “And you talk in your sleep, Caleb.”

  Caleb wanted to sink through the floor as his father struggled to contain a laugh himself, and his mother’s lips pursed in disapproval. He thought that if his ears became any warmer, they might light his hair on fire.

  He stood up abruptly and stalked toward the door. “I’ve milking to do.”

  As he stomped out to the barn, he realized that the worst part was that he had known since the moment she punched him in the gut that he would be having this conversation with Captain Mallett. She had knocked the wind out of him in more ways than one.

  The next morning, Caleb watched as Captain Mallett brought out the bags with lumps of spruce resin stuck all over their insides and carefully put them into a pan of boiling water. Lunette was down at the tavern, and Caleb took a deep breath, knowing that he could put this off no longer.

  “Captain Mallett?” he began.

  Mallett grunted in reply, “Mm?”

  “My parents think that I…. I mean, I would like to ask… Er… Do you think that it would be acceptable for me to… um…”

  “Out with it, lad!”

  Caleb gulped hard and forced himself to speak steadily. “I wanted to ask your permission to court Lunette, Captain.” Again, his ears burned, but he knew he’d gotten through the hard part now.

  Captain Mallett stirred the hempen sacks as they floated in the water, appearing to ponder the idea deeply. “I have been wondering for a time now how long it would take for you to gather up the courage to speak to me of this.”

  He drew a sharp breath up through his nose, nodding. “I’ve not seen her so happy as she’s been since the day you lost my canoe, not since before her maman was taken ill. She dances out in the garden when she thinks I cannot see her, and she sings as she cooks our dinner.”