The afternoon was peaceful and serene; birds were quietly chirping in the trees, and the air felt warm.  There were ten of us cousins there that summer; James and Ezra had gone to a camp as counselors.  All of us, save the four youngest, were having the time of our lives spending hours hiking in the woods, playing war, or building our Fort Ticonderoga.  This fort was our pride and joy, for we had dragged and carried hundreds of logs to make it perfect.