5
I saw the movement from afar. The bustle of men through the early-morning dim accompanied the clatter of equipment and the hoarse barking of orders in the English language. Slipping behind a rock, I crouched and listened, trying to make sense of what was happening.
There was the gleam of light as somebody put flame to a lantern, and I saw a score of men in militia uniforms together with a tall man I could not make out and a smaller figure that I could’ve sworn was a woman. The orders came again, and one of the militia lifted something from the ground and held it high.
I gasped; the militia had discovered one of Father’s black bothies, as we called the illicit distilleries, and were either wrecking the equipment or taking it away, I could not be sure which. Keeping low and quiet, I cre
