Asa Buckley had finished the first furrow and was heading back the other direction, working on the second. The sun, now slanted behind him, continued to sear his exposed flesh. His floppy hat hadn't protected his neck or his hands. Only his pa owned gloves, and he seldom let any of his sons use them.

"Heyyyy . . . Asa!"

The holler came from behind him. Asa turned and saw Henry Blodgett racing toward him. Henry was fourteen, the same age as Asa's brother Adam, yet he much preferred Asa's company. The Blodgetts owned the next farm over, and when Asa's pa or israel Blodgett weren't demanding work from their sons, Asa and Henry could usually be found skinny-dipping in the river.

Henry, a towhead, came rushing up to Asa breathless.

"Hey, yerself, Henry. You could expire runnin' crazy like that on a day like this. Foller me. I got a jug of water down a piece."

Asa led the younger boy to the one tree still growing in the middle of the fields. His pa had left it as a landmark and for shade on days like this.

"Thought you'd be workin', too. Whatcha doin' here?" Asa asked. He'd let Henry take a swig before pouring some of the water over his own head. Asa unbuttoned his shirt to let it drip onto his chest.

"News!" Henry choked, then coughed, from drinking too quickly. "Big . . . news!"

"Rest yer haunches and tell me," the older boy ordered. He himself had already taken the shadiest spot at the base of the tree. The jug was now between his outstretched legs.

"You know . . . Half Day, the . . . the Potawatomi chief?" Henry was still panting.

Asa nodded and took a sip from the jug.

"He come to warn us today right after our noon meal, poundin' on our front door. Pa grabbed his musket and had it in the old chief's face after I pulled open the door. I could see that pinto horse of his hitched to the rail out front, its head droopin'.

Asa looked up abruptly. "Warn ya? 'Bout what?"

"Black Hawk!" Asa's friend's brown eyes sparkled with excitement. "He and two or three hundred of his braves are raidin' the settlements west and north of here. Could hit us next."

Asa frowned at his friend. "And how does an old chief like Half Day know this? Folks say he's been friendly a long time."

"Half Day says Black Hawk wants the Sacs, the Fox, the Potawatomi, and the Winnebago to fight against us Americans and that the British will supply all who do with guns, powder, and ammunition."

"Yer pa believe him?" Asa asked.

"Not at first cuz there ain't been no Indian trouble 'round here since we and the others come to settle."

"What changed his mind?"

"Seein' Half Day's half-dead horse. He'd ridden it hard to warn us Black Hawk's comin'! You Buckleys best be ready!"