Nate breathed in the delicious food smells. He was eating his noon meal with his best friend, Mr. His uncle, Uriah Storch, was sitting at the fine wooden table. His uncle was talking about the war with England. But even worse was the sound of his uncle’s voice, barking through the open dining room window. Nate crawled along his uncle’s vegetable garden, tugging up weeds and flicking away fat green worms. Nate braced himself for the killing stab. “I’m not a soldier!” Nate wanted to scream.īut it was too late. But he could hear the man’s pounding steps, and his grunting breaths. Attached to the gun’s tip was a killing sword - a bayonet. The man’s musket was aimed at Nate’s back. Over his shoulder, he saw an enormous soldier chasing after him. And then came an even more terrifying sound: heavy footsteps right behind him. He tore through the thick forest, dodging trees and stumbling over rocks. And Nate was sure that he was about to die.Īlready one of Nate’s friends was lying dead in the dirt, shot through the heart. Thousands of British soldiers were on the attack. But here he was on a blood-soaked battlefield in Brooklyn, New York. Nathaniel Fox was too young to be fighting in the Revolutionary War.
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