He came slowly to the bench and put out a hand toward the hives, but didn’t touch one until one or two bees had landed lightly on his hand, their feet tickling his skin. “So they won’t think you’re a bear,” Claire had said, laughing. He smiled at the memory and put his hand on the sun-warmed straw and just stood there for a bit, letting go of his troublesome thoughts, little by little.

“Ye’ll take care of her, aye?” he said at last, speaking soft to the bees. “If she comes to you and says I’m gone, ye’ll feed her and take heed for her?” He stood a moment longer, listening to the ceaseless hum.

“I trust ye with her,” he said at last, and turned to go, his heart easier in his chest. It wasn’t until he’d shut the gate behind him and started down toward the house that another bit of the poem came to him. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow …

142

Don’t You …?

September 20, 1780

From Col. John Sevier

To Col. James Fraser

We have word that Ferguson’s Loyalist Militia is on the move from Camden, whence he departed with Cornwallis, but has now gone South into North Carolina.

Word is that he proposes to attack and burn such Patriot Settlements as he comes to on his Way. We propose to meet him at some convenient Point in his Progress. Should you and your Troops be of a Mind to join us, we will meet and muster at Sycamore Shoals on the 25th of September.

Bring such Arms and Powder as you may have.

John Sevier, Colonel of Militia

September 21, 1780

To The Inhabitants of North Carolina

Gentlemen: Unless you wish to be eat up by an Inundation of Barbarians, who have begun by murdering an unarmed Son before his Father, and afterward lopped off his Arms, and who by their shocking Cruelties and Irregularities, give the best Proof of their Cowardice and want of Discipline, I say if you wish to be pinioned, robbed, and murdered, and see your Wives and Daughters, in four days, abused by the Dregs of Mankind—in short, if you wish or deserve to live or bear the Name of Men, grasp your Arms in a Moment and run to Camp.

The Backwater Men have crossed the Mountains; McDowell, Hampton, Shelby, and Cleveland are at their head, so that you know what you have to depend upon. If you choose to be pissed upon forever and ever by a set of Mongrels, say so at once, and let your Women turn their Backs upon you, and look out for real Men to protect them.

Pat. Ferguson, Major 71st Regiment

Fraser’s Ridge

September 22, Anno Domini 1780

I, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, being of sound Mind