As the sun began to set in December 1773, my contorted little feet scurried over

the worn out wood on deck of one of three British ships that had foolishly been loaded

with tea. No sailors were on deck, it was the perfect night to nibble open the crates and

see how good “tea” really was! We started in the darkest dampest corners, the feast had

begun. The tea leaves tasted like they had fallen off a most heavenly tree!  Seeing that

tonight was a dark night and no moon shone, the sole light haze from the lamps that lined

the cobble stone streets could alone be seen. The only humans in sight were the two red-

coated guards on the docking platform. They did not bother us, rats, in the least, however

their conversation intrigued me.

 The men spoke off tonight in whispered voice, one man was going on about how

there had been a rumor that Indians might show up. The other interrupted him every now

and then, saying words I did not know, like “Sons of Liberty” …and “Taxes”. Their tone

of voice frightened me and I coiled my tail up when I heard the latter man say, “Tonight

they planned to come and strike!” “How?” asked the first. “I have not a clue said the

second.” But I knew if what I heard was true… “Hurry!” we must hurry.  

            Not fifteen minuets latter, we all froze, including the red-coated guards. From the

dim haze on the street rose tall, disturbing, dark-skinned figures with axes and spears.

Woman and children crowded onto the street to watch. Then for the first time that night

the moon came out from behind the clouds, and we saw them clearly! Colorful, with

feather toped hats, not tall, but dark-skinned they were, and they kept coming. Onward

they ran, all the time chanting, “Send it back!” Disbursing into three groups they began to

board the ships.

Coming back to reality I watched as my fellow rats flew down the steps to go hide

in crevices of the Hold. However I did not follow, because curiosity got the better of me.

Instead I ran up the Rat Lines, so I might hear part of their chatter. What I heard, and saw

stunned me, but was somehow completely believable. On one Indian, his skin was

pealing like an orange. It wasn’t skin at all. It was paint! These “Indians” were not

Indians either! Then, for the second time that night I heard Sons of Liberty. That’s who

they were! The Sons of Liberty!  That’s what those red-coated guards had been talking

about! The Son’s of Liberty came to dump the tea, as that’s what they were now doing.

“But why?” I asked to the thin, cold, crisp air. “Ugh! I hate taxes!” one of the men now

smashing the crates of tea cried out. Oh duh! Taxes! That’s why they are mad. But what

are taxes?

That’s when it came to me in an instant! I understood why these Sons of Liberty

came and destroyed our supply of tea. These ships came from the king, and he had

planned to sell it to the colonist. However the colonist did not want to pay the taxes on

the tea. So now at this moment the colonist had gone on strike and were destroying the

crates of tea and dumping them over into the bay. To protest and let the king know they

would no longer pay taxes to him. I’ll tell you right now, that if I, a rat more or less,

understood the message I know for a fact the king will understand the colonists protest.