“The women in the Fort Gorge” 
photo by author,(英军古堡探胜)
-A visit to an 18th century's town, at Niagara in southern Ontario
Place to go, a travel piece：
3rd v.【小镇意境】03
‘Fort George’, a British military stronghold dated back at the time, sits on the Canadian side of the river. The famous falls is up at the end of the river about 10 minutes away by drive.
It's almost embraced by the town called “Niagara-on-the-lake”, the number one travel destination, in my eyes, for cultural tourism, especially for those people who are eager to feel the culture, especially new comers with Oriental background in particular or as an example.A few steps away from the main street, there is a tiny little park in the behind, where we are attracted by a wooden signboard near the parking lot. From where we park, we may see 2 huge 18th century canons are laid on the roadside, black and silent.
A wooden house preserved in the woods is now used as a ticket stand for tourists. When coming out of the door, with tickets in our hands, we already can have a far away glimpse of a woman standing at the gate of the Fort. The whole camp is shining under the autumn sun, warmth in the air. We walk towards to it in quietness without saying a single word.
Like many, I always fancy anything military, places like this, preserved to tell the stories of the past. So now I feel anticipation(I just can’t wait.)
The woman greeted us politely, elegantly, and professionally. She is in a dress from the 18th century. The autumn sunlight smiles in her blue eyes, her face is bright and rosy. Very Shortly，she says a few words about what we are going to see.
Why this woman dressed that way? Or is she modeling of any women that
lived together with the soldiers this camp during the war? -in this 18th century Fort? "Love and romance in the war?" I am whispering in my mind, becoming more curious and eager for what we are going to see the next moment.
“The women and children played their great roles in the Fort during the war time..” the guide starts speaking to a bunch of us sitting in line with all ears; "to be a solider in the army was a kind of job too, at the time, as a man could make a living by joining the war," by “endangering his life” ‘the very word of ‘making a living’ has stayed quite a while in my mind, as I am listening.
Then, he leads us into a gray house. The room is dim, the windows smaller. We are all sitting on a long bench like the soldiers used to do, the tourist guider's voice is clear and even a bit British，as I am trying to absorb every single word from the sounds of his speech, the story heard is from the pages of the history of the country.
Winters must have been cold and long in the 18th of century. I notice there is an ordinary wood table, quite heavier looking, rough, and strong but lower than the ones we have at in nowadays. A dark candle-stand, metal, sits in the center. But the table is in the right corner of the room. At the east end, on the right side, a double-bed is covered by a curtain-like cloth hanging in between separating from the other beds. On the left hand side is a stove sticking out of a wall, from which it was built.
“Women do the washing, and cooking” says his voice again," “They work and sleep in the same room with the soldiers in the war,” “they get paid too,” “they do the laundry, but not for just one man but for all,”
Love and romance never die in wars. It's though we are in the 18th century again, which appears in front of my eyes. ……… when a battle is over, the young couple in service, sitting there, hands in hands , in the corner, by the fire, and at the table, dimly the candles lit, in deep love they kiss and care for each other; enjoying a peaceful moment of romance. I am drawing a picture in my mind; I am lost in amazement.
No sooner had we stepped out the camp, we again sighted two canons at the roadside, black, heavy, and silent; but they roared once, devoured the lives of the young and the old in the war on two sides of the Niagara River flowing toward the Falls.
Yes, it's as if I can hear the voices in the distance, the laughing, yelling, shouting; men‘s or women’s singing, or maybe calling the kids home, maybe cryings from the deadly wounded, and from those diying. Like many, I hate all wars, but sadly, people living near the borders of the river fight each other, often, in wars.
“At certain spots, the river is narrow; people hear each other and can see from both sides,” the guide's voice echoes once again in my mind. it awakens in me when I feel the canons with my hand. they are stone-cold, and in dead silence; they're rough, cold and solid. Then, I turned. "I will come back with my friends new to this town," I am speaking to myself, having a final glance of the Fort in the setting sun...-941 words,
English journal 2007, E-writing,
Edited from the version written during February 2007
约翰 雷 K. Shaw Burlington, Ca.
Posted to 北美文学社 美语世界 于（ June, 2008, 夏 六月 ）
