The Bully Boys (22 page)

“Are things brewing again across the border?” I asked anxiously. There were always fears of the Americans returning.

“All is quiet. I think the bloody nose we gave the Americans will stay in their minds for a long time to come.”

“Then why is the size of the guard being increased?”

“Good fences make for good neighbours, and a sizeable force of men in arms tends to keep people on their own side of the fence. And of course I could think of hardly a man more deserving to be part of that force, a man who showed more bravery, than you.”

I looked down at the ground, feeling honoured but also a bit embarrassed. For a moment I imagined myself in the grey uniform of FitzGibbon's Bully Boys. But at the same time my thoughts flashed back to the eyes of a dying man . . . the man I'd shot. I didn't know what to say.

“Have you thought of any future beyond the farm?”

“I used to think about it all the time. Wonder what I'd do if I left the farm.”

“And now?”

“And now I know what I want to do, how I'm going to spend my life.”

“You do?” FitzGibbon asked.

I nodded my head. “I'm going to be working the piece of land right beside my Pa's farm. I'm a farmer. And that's what I'm always going to be.” I paused. “Unless those Americans decide to come back across that river.”

FitzGibbon put a hand on my shoulder. He nodded his head slowly as if to say he not only understood but that he approved. “And a fine farmer you're going to be.”

“I'll do my best.”

“I know you will, Tommy. There's a time for war, and a time for peace,” FitzGibbon said. “But now . . . it's time for supper! Come, let's share a meal. And I might just have a story or two to share with you!”

POSTSCRIPT

ALMOST ALL the adventures documented in this novel— from the opening scenes in the general store, to entering Fort George disguised as a peddler, to the battle at Beaver Dams—are based on the real actions of Lieutenant James FitzGibbon, a great Canadian hero.