It was the autumn of 1758, and Fort Loudoun was the busiest place in Pennsylvania. General John Forbes was leading thousands of British and colonial soldiers west to fight the French, and Fort Loudoun was right on the supply road. Wagons rolled in. Horses rolled out. Drummer boys beat signals from sunup to sundown.
Thirteen-year-old Benjamin was one of those drummer boys. And he had a problem.
"My powder horn," Benjamin announced to the barracks at breakfast, "is GONE."
Three other drummer boys looked up from their bowls of corn mush.
"Gone?" said Isaac.
"GONE. Off my peg. The peg above my bunk. Where I hung it last night before I went to sleep. EMPTY."
"Maybe it fell behind your trunk," said Eli with his mouth full.
"I checked. Twice."
"Well it can't have walked away by itself, Benjamin."
"I KNOW IT CAN'T HAVE WALKED AWAY BY ITSELF, ELI."
Benjamin's powder horn was special. His father had made it for him by hand back in Philadelphia. On one side, his father had carved BENJAMIN in big blocky letters. On the other side, he had carved their family's favorite verse: Be strong and of good courage. Benjamin loved that powder horn more than any other thing he owned.
And it was missing.
"Alright," Benjamin said, hopping up on a bench so he could see all three of the other boys at once. "I'm going to find out what happened to it. Right now. Before drum call. Nobody leaves this barracks until I do."
Eli rolled his eyes. "You're not the Sergeant, Benjamin."
"Today I am."
The other boys laughed. But they sat back down.
"Suspect number one," Benjamin announced, pointing at Isaac. "You sleep in the bunk next to mine. You could have grabbed it in the night without even getting out of bed."
Isaac held up both hands. "Whoa whoa whoa. Why would I take YOUR powder horn? I have my own." He pointed up at his own peg. There hung Isaac's powder horn—a clean white horn with a fancy silver buckle on the strap. "Mine is right there. I haven't touched it since drum call yesterday. And besides—your peg is way too high for me to reach from my bunk. I tried once, when you put a frog up there as a prank. Remember? I had to STAND on my pillow."
Benjamin scratched his head. Isaac was telling the truth. Benjamin's peg WAS higher than his own bunk—you had to actually get up and stand on the floor to reach it. And the floor by Isaac's bunk creaked SO loudly that Benjamin would have heard it in his sleep.
"Hmm. Okay. Suspect number two." Benjamin pointed at Eli. "You. You're always 'borrowing' things and forgetting to give them back. You borrowed my whittling knife. You borrowed my comb. You borrowed my GOOD sock."
"That was ONE TIME with the sock."
"Did you borrow my powder horn?"
Eli puffed up his chest. "I did NOT. And I can prove it." He held up his own powder horn. "Look. Mine is hanging right here on my peg, with the little crack down the side. If I had borrowed yours, where would mine be? I'd have hidden mine behind something, right? Mine is in plain sight. I have no reason to take yours."
Benjamin had to admit—that was actually a pretty good point.
"Plus," Eli added, "I've been right here in my bunk since lights out. Ask Isaac. I snore so loud he had to throw a pillow at me twice."
"It's true," Isaac said. "I threw the pillow."
Benjamin frowned. Two suspects down.
"Suspect number three." Benjamin turned to Caleb, the new boy who had only been at the fort for a week. Caleb was sitting on his bunk lacing up his boots. He looked up nervously when Benjamin said his name.
"Me?"
"You. You don't have a powder horn yet, Caleb. The Sergeant hasn't given you one. Right?"
"R-right. He said he'd find me one this week."
"So you'd be the one who would WANT a powder horn the most. You could have grabbed mine off the peg in the night."
Caleb's face went pale. "I—Benjamin, I didn't—"
But Benjamin was already looking around. And that's when he noticed something. He noticed it on the wall above Caleb's bunk.
Or rather—he noticed what WASN'T on the wall above Caleb's bunk.
Every other boy had a wooden peg above his bunk for hanging his powder horn. Isaac had one. Eli had one. Benjamin had one. But Caleb…
Caleb didn't have a peg. The wall above his bunk was bare wood. Not even a hole where a peg used to be.
Benjamin's mouth fell open. "Caleb. Where is the peg above your bunk?"
"What peg? There's never been one."
"Exactly. Which means…" Benjamin spun around to his own bunk and looked at his peg. Tiny fresh scratches ran in a little fan shape around the base of the peg—the kind of scratches claws or a beak might make.
And on the floor, right beneath his peg, was a single black feather.
Benjamin stared at the feather for a long moment. Then his eyes slowly traveled up the wall, across the ceiling beams, and over to the barracks window. The wooden shutter was propped open about a hand's width, letting the morning light in. His peg was close enough to the window that a bird, sitting on the windowsill, could have stretched in, grabbed the strap, and lifted the powder horn clean off the peg.
"A raven," Benjamin whispered. "A raven stole it."
"A RAVEN?" Isaac laughed. "That's ridiculous."
"Is it? Look at the scratches. Look at the feather. And the window's open."
"Sure," Isaac said, "but Benjamin—you remember what Sergeant said at lights out last night? 'Shutters closed, gentlemen, keeps the cold out.' We closed the shutter before bed. I remember, because I was the one who pulled it shut. So if the shutter is open NOW, somebody opened it after lights out. A raven can't open a shutter."
Benjamin stopped. Isaac was right.
"So either the raven had help… or the raven isn't the whole story."
Benjamin walked over to the window and looked at it very carefully. The wooden bar that held the shutter closed was lying on the floor. Not thrown, not broken—carefully set down. Like someone had taken it off quietly in the dark.
Benjamin turned around slowly and looked at his three suspects.
"Alright. One of you opened the shutter in the night. Not to steal the powder horn—but you did it, and while you did it, the raven got his chance. Who was it?"
Isaac shook his head. "Not me. I told you, I can hear that creaky floor from my bunk. If I got up, you'd have heard it."
Eli opened his mouth to deny it—then closed it. His face went pink.
"Eli?"
"…I might have opened it. A little. Last night. Because Isaac was snoring SO loudly I thought I was going to go insane, and I figured fresh air might help me fall asleep. I pulled the bar out and pushed the shutter open. I swear I meant to close it before morning. I must have fallen asleep first."
Isaac threw a pillow at him. "SO IT IS MY SNORING'S FAULT?!"
"A LITTLE!"
Benjamin laughed in spite of himself. "So the raven had a partner. An unwitting one." He pointed at the scratches on the wall. "The raven flew in through the shutter Eli opened, spotted the shiny brass cap on my powder horn, and snatched it."