A few weeks later the Declaration of Independence, written by Thomas Jefferson, was proclaimed throughout the land amid great rejoicing. Then the country settled down to its grim task. What a task it was! Many times it seemed that the poor, thinly populated land might endure no longer. England was a very powerful foe, feared throughout the world. Not all Americans were patriots. Some were Tories on principle, others for gain. Very many were selfish and not a few corrupt; but enough so loved their country and independence as to endure and struggle unto the glorious end. CHAPTER XXII RODNEY'S SACRIFICE AND HIS MOTHER'S One midsummer day Rodney Allison walked along the dusty road. He did not carry his head erect as usual but seemed to be pondering over some problem. He was a "strapping," fine looking lad, almost a man grown, and in experience already a man. He stopped before a little gate opening into a pasture and gave three shrill whistles. Over the top of a ridge two pointed ears appeared, poised for an instant, and then their owner galloped into view. "What a beauty you are, Nat," said the boy, as if talking to himself, stretching out his hand to stroke the silky nose that was thrust over the fence. The two standing together formed a picture to afford delight so long as the eye shall admire grace, breeding and power. The boy's figure was erect, his wavy hair hanging gracefully to his broad shoulders. His face, while not handsome, was clear cut, resolute and showed lines of character not usually graven in the face of one as young. His dark gray eyes always looked at one steadily. Now they were darker than usual and had in them the shadow of trouble. "Nat, how would you like to change masters?" The colt nuzzled the boy's face and then his pockets, in one of which he found the nubbin of corn he sought. "You rascal, all you care about having is a good commissary. You won't miss me, will you? Oh, no! I'd thought we'd go to the war together. We would have something worth fighting for, a free country, where a man wouldn't need to have dukes for uncles in order to be of some consequence in the world. We would show 'em, you and I, that horses and boys raised in this country are as good as the best; but that can't be. You are too good a horse to drag the plow on this poor little farm. You shall have one of the greatest men in this great land for a master, while I will stay away from the war and both of us may save our precious skins and perhaps be British subjects in the end." Nat's purplish eyes seemed full of comprehension, as he mumbled the lad's hand with his lips. "Horses seem to know more of some things than they really do, and know more of some other things than they seem to; how's that for horse sense, Nathaniel Bacon Allison?" Nat blinked, but shed no tears. Rodney blinked and his eyes were wet. The boy opened the gate and the colt followed him to the stable, where he was saddled and ridden to Monticello.