Free Band of Acadians by John Skelton Page B

Plus those red rocks Monsieur Denys mentioned are in the hill just half a mile away. But we’ll have to start a forest fire to create an open space around our settlement. We don’t want anyone to sneak up on us.”
    â€œWhy the fire?” Nola asked. “Do you think someone might attack us?”
    â€œIt’s just a precaution, Nola. We don’t need big protective walls but, as you well know, we live in a dangerous world and must prepare proper defences.”
    Hector was annoyed that Frank was taking the lead, but he couldn’t argue with the English boy’s reasoning, so he gave the order to protect their supplies, then the go-ahead for the burn.
    Embers were still crackling when they set to work cutting trees for their new cabins. These structures were meant to be permanent, so they would be built on a more comfortable scale than their cramped huts at Whycocomagh. Still, there would be some twelve Rameurs per cabin.
    As this work started, Grandpa suggested a name for their new outpost. “Let’s call it Rougemount after the red rock in the surrounding hills.”
    â€œThere isn’t that much red rock,” Hector said. “In fact, it’s mostly dull grey.”
    Frank piped in. “I do like the idea of ‘mount’ in the name. The hill is obviously there, and we’re on the western side of the bay. So I think a good name would be Westmount.”
    Other ideas for names bounced back and forth with so much enthusiasm that Hector decided the only fair way to resolve the matter was to vote. It was close, but by the end of their second day at the site, with nothing yet erected, their new settlement had a name. They called it Westmount.
    Jocelyne and Grandpa searched for a good spot to place their beehive, which was difficult since no meadows existed around Westmount. That was a deficiency that would also limit the community’s prospects for a garden.
    Grandpa pointed at the flat land across the bay. “There should be lots of bee food on that side. In fact, I can see some flowers from here.”
    â€œThat does look like a good place,” Jocelyne said. “Let’s take a shallop over to check it out.”
    As they rowed over with the hive, Grandpa counselled Jocelyne. “Remember that the beehive is a highly organized little world. All bees work for the benefit of the whole colony, not the individual. We must keep in mind that keeping bees in hives is for the benefit of the beekeeper, not the bees. When I kept bees, I always tried to be in tune with their needs, not mine.”
    Back at the settlement, Nola busied herself building proper pens for the rabbits. Rabbits were avid diggers, so it was essential to build the pens on a hard base. Zoopie accompanied Nola everywhere she went. The pup was still too young to learn rabbit-herding skills, but other tricks, under Nola’s patient instruction, came easily. Zoopie proved to be good at stick retrieval, rolling over, and paw shaking. Nola understood instinctively that dogs depended on the kindness of others for their very existence, so she knew how to get the best out of her dog. “He’s quite smart but can’t talk, so any scolding for naughty behaviour has to be balanced by lots of praise for accomplishments,” she told Frank.
    After three days of frenzied building activity, Hector called for a celebration rest. They only had a few cod, lobster, and shellfish but, cooked with succulent herbs Jocelyne had found in the beehive meadow, this sparse fare proved to be a hit. She also tried her hand at making boiled seaweed “salad,” but that was a disaster.
    â€œBetter let the rabbits eat that stuff,” Hector suggested ruefully.
    After the meal, a few Rameurs were still energetic enough to play flutes and tambourines to entertain the weary crew. This merriment was in full swing when Grandpa, relaxing on a stump away from the main group, noticed a couple of shallops