Sackett's Land Read online

  I went along aft, down the ladder's three steps to the after cabin, and there he lay, sprawled on his bunk with an empty bottle by him and the smell of rum strong upon the air. My sword lay across the room and I walked over and took it up.

  He had a pistol by him, all right, but I took it rudely from under his hand. Then I nudged him a toe.

  "Come alive," I said. "You've to settle accounts now."

  He stirred, opened his eyes, then seeming to sense the stillness of the ship he suddenly woke up, threw back the covers and put a foot to the deck. Then he saw me, standing wide-legged to the roll of the vessel, slight though it was, with a sword in my hand and a pistol in my belt.

  "You." He started to rise and I tilted the point of the blade at him. "Is it mutiny then?" he asked.

  "Not mutiny, Captain, for I'm no sworn member of your crew, nor legally taken on. The coast lies yonder, and I am taking my freedom."

  "The savages will roast you," he warned.

  "Me, at least, not you," I said. "Now, Captain, there's a matter between us, a matter of money taken from me, and a matter of payment for my work as a crew member. As well as damages."

  "Damages! I'll damage you!" He lunged up, and I put my blade against his chest and pressed, just enough.

  He cried out and fell back, a spot of blood on his shirt front. "The money taken from me, Captain. I'll take the rest in goods."

  From his shirt he took my sack of money and threw it to me. Deftly I picked it from the air, hefting the weight. It felt right.

  "My time is worth money, more than your ship, but I'll not take that. However," I said, "four hundred weight of trade goods as well as some powder and shot should do for damages."

  "Four hundred weight!" He almost screamed it. "You're daft, man!"

  "All right. Have it your own way, five hundred weight."

  Bardle stared at me hard-eyed. "I should have dropped you over the side the first day out," he said. "I was a fool to waste time."

  "No doubt," I replied cheerfully. "But you might have found trouble doing it, and you'd still have Tempany to settle with." I smiled at him. "You know, Bardle, you can never go back to England now."

  "What's that? What d'you mean?"

  "By now, inquiries will have traced me to your ship. You will be waited for when you return."

  He did not like that. He tried to stare me down, to not believe what I had said, but he believed.

  "Bah!" he sneered. "They'll not notice you! You're nothin' but a farmer from the fens!"

  The cabin held little else that I wanted. A compass, which I took, another brace of pistols, which I also placed to one side. He watched me, his eyes bulging. "You're a bloody thief!" he shouted.

  "Next time you think to knock some lad in the head, Bardle, remember this. And when I leave you, remember that Tempany is coming along behind you, and he knows your craft and you. He will be looking for you.

  "The night after that on which you took me, I was to meet an Earl, Genester's cousin. He had plans in which I was concerned. Captain Tempany was also involved, as were others. Oh, you've done it this time, Bardle! You've fixed yourself nicely!"

  Gathering what I needed in one hand and under that arm, I backed to the door. "Don't try coming out, Bardle, and don't try to follow me."

  "You think Tempany will find you?" Bardle sneered. "No man knows this coast, not even Gosnold or Newport! Once you leave this vessel you'll not be seen again."

  "Hadn't you guessed? I don't intend to be seen, not for a long time, Bardle. Not until after you've been drawn and quartered and hung in chains. You've been the death of many a poor lad. Now you can die for me."

  At the steps I paused again. "I plan to trade with the savages, Bardle. I shall live here, gather a cargo of furs. And I shall return in a few years, a rich man.

  "When I return to England, I shall go back and see what remains of your body. By then they will probably have thrown your bones into potter's field."

  "You're a coldblooded one, Sackett," he stared at me, his eyes sullen, "but the savages will deal with you."

  I drew the door shut behind me and went up the ladder. All was quiet. Yet when I drew near the bulwark Sakim stepped out quickly. "Sackett, we'd better be ashore. I think something is stirring down below."

  "Aye. Into the boat with you." I was rigging a sling for my additional goods as I spoke. All was dark and still, and there were no stars in the sky. From what talk I'd picked up, it was said this was a coast where terrible storms often struck.

  Sakim went down a rope to the boat and stood by to cast off. Rufisco followed.

  I had a leg over the railing when they came, and they came with a rush. They had found some opening forward of which I knew nothing, and they had gathered in the darkness there. They were close before I saw them and they came suddenly.

  At the same moment, Nick Bardle burst from his cabin door, pistol in hand. Where he had the extra gun I did not know, but I shot at the mob rushing me, then threw my other leg over and slid down the rope.

  In an instant, Bardle was there, pistol up, he took careful aim, but I hit the boat and Sakim cast off. Rufisco had stepped to the oars and he gave a terrific pull, backing instead of going forward. And the move saved my life.

  The pistol bellowed, and the slug hit the bulwark near me with a thud.

  Rufisco was shaking out some canvas, and the wind caught at it. We moved forward swiftly, but I held my fire, watching Bardle. He was no longer attempting to charge his pistol, just staring at me.

  Once more only, I turned to look at the Jolly Jack. Her bow was swinging slowly toward the sea, for Bardle had no wish to be caught adrift on a lee shore. I looked, and then I turned my eyes away from the ship, away from the sea, away from England and home. Before me lay a continent, a vast sweep of land inhabited by savage men of whom I knew nothing. Nor had I any knowledge of how or when I might escape from this land, nor what awaited us upon landing.

  I crawled aft, edging my way, for we were fearfully overloaded with goods. I took the tiller and sank down into place.

  Off upon my left I could hear the rustle of surf upon the sand. It was a quiet night.

  Sakim looked back from a place in the bow. "What do we do now?" he said.

  A moment I hesitated, and then replied, "We find a haven before daylight, some place of concealment where we may hide ourselves and the gig. Then we will look about and see what manner of land we have come to."

  It had been in my mind to trade for furs, to return to England a rich man. But now England seemed far, far away, and the land before me, vast, mysterious and unknown. This land was my destiny ...

  If I was to establish a family, it would be here in this land. And if they were to prosper here, it would have to be in such a way as the land demanded. I had no doubt those distant sons and grandsons would respond, that we Sacketts would establish a place for ourselves here, in this land, this America.

  Chapter 8

  The shore line was faintly visible, a vague white line off to our far right. Yet it was not in my thoughts to go immediately ashore, nor to beach the gig in some place near at hand simply to be soon ashore.

  Some inlet, cove or small bay was what we needed, or some small, offshore island where we could conceal ourselves and the gig until we could decide what to do.

  The phosphorescent water rolled back from the bow, the rigging of our small sail creaked pleasantly, and we sat still, not talking, filled with wonder at what we had done and were doing. On our right was the strange land, discovered more than one hundred years back, yet even now unknown. My mind was filled with awe as I remembered Tallis speaking of a great river found by Hernando de Soto, a mysterious river from out of nowhere that rushed away again into a vague somewhere ...

  "I am somewhat afraid," I spoke quietly, into the blackness. "It is a strange land into which we go."

  "It is good to say that you are afraid," Sakim said. "It is not good to be too bold. A little fear makes a man think. It is better to be a little af
raid, and yet do what has to be done."

  "I think we must be bold with these savages," I said, "bold, yet respectful. They know us not. We must let them know we are not afraid, and that in our trade we wish only to be fair."

  "My people traded across the world in ancient times," Sakim said. "Our ships went to India, China, and the Spice Islands. Even voyages around the world are talked of, and long before Magellan.

  "It is written that when he found the Straits that were named for him he had a chart ... Who made the chart? Who had been there before him? An Arab? A Chinese? Who? I think many civilizations have been born and have died before history was written."

  "You would take the glory from Columbus?" Rufisco protested.

  "Who knows how old is man?" Sakim said.

  "There are tombs in Ireland," I commented, "from a thousand years before the pyramids were built."

  The wind was freshening, and even our small sail was catching a pocketful, and the gig was moving along the shore, but well out from it. Suddenly the line of surf vanished and we found ourselves before an opening. Easing the tiller over, I took us into the bay. Whether it was large or small, I could not say.

  Talk was well enough, I thought, but now what we needed was shelter. What little I knew of this coast was bad—terrible storms were known here, and tremendous seas.

  When it came to that, I knew not if this were indeed the coast I believed it to be. Our charts were crude, and few had sailed the full length of the coast.

  At Boston, where we frequently sailed from the fens, I'd learned enough to know the Atlantic had been an obstacle, but never an insurmountable barrier. To cross it from Ireland was no great thing, and many an Irish, English or Breton seaman was amused by the talk of the Columbus "discovery." To them it was scarcely that, for they had been catching fish off the Grand Banks for nearly a hundred years.

  There was a faint light in the sky now, and we could see clearly the gray line of coast with a white line of surf along the sand.

  We were in some kind of a bay or sound, with open water to the south, and to the west a shore lined with trees. We edged that way, for it was no part of my plan to have daylight find us exposed to all eyes upon the open water.

  We saw no sign of life along the shore, no plume of smoke. Yet there must be natives here, in such a place as this.

  Rufisco called softly. "Look! There is an opening!"

  I put the tiller over, and under a good head of wind we ran in toward the shore. There was a cove before us, with a half moon of beach, but nearer there was a smaller opening that seemed to be a creek mouth. As Sakim took in our sail, we ran up this creek until we saw a great dead tree that had fallen half in the water, half out. Sculling with an oar we worked close to it and tied up.

  A bird sang and the water rustled. Overhead a white gull winged slowly past, dropping a curious glance our way.

  Standing up, I belted on my blade, thrust pistols into my waistband and took up the fowling piece.

  "No noise!" I warned. "Let us be very quiet. We are alone here, and we must know something of where we are."

  We waded ashore, looking carefully around us. Some of the trees were pine, with here and there a gnarled and ancient oak, much brush of kind I did not know, and driftwood everywhere.

  Our position seemed good. A small but deep creek flowed down through the sandhills on the opposite side of the cove which we had seen. There was perhaps an acre of ground scattered with driftwood and coarse grass that sloped down to the creek. It was ringed with trees, sheltered from all view.

  "No fire," I said. "Break out some of the biscuit. We will eat that."

  Rufisco went back to the boat to get the biscuit and Sakim went further inland. Soon he was back. "There is a spring whose water is not bad." He had some slender sticks in his hand. "I shall make a bow," he said, "and arrows."

  After we had eaten lightly, careful of the food we had brought ashore, I left Sakim at making his bow and went inland, moving quietly, working my way to what seemed the highest of the sandhills.

  When I reached it there was a good view on all sides. Toward the sea and to the south was a broad sound, protected from the sea by barrier islands of sand. There was no sign of a sail, yet I could not believe we had gotten away so easily, nor that aNick Bardle would rest content.

  Further along the shore I found where a fire had been built, but the ends of charred wood that remained were old. There were many shells there where Indians, or whoever the fire-builders had been, had eaten shellfish.

  Many grassy meadows lay back from the shore, a fair land indeed, and promising well for future farmers, if such there came to be. Nowhere did I see any signs of recent men—only the remains of fires and a few sticks cut by some crude implement.

  I saw many ducks and geese, and several times brown and somewhat speckled birds flew up, very large birds, many of them as big as geese. These must be the turkeys of which Gosnold had told.

  After a while, I came down to the bank of the stream on which we had camped, but far above our camp site. It was enough to tell me that this river offered no access to the higher country. That must be found elsewhere.

  On high ground again I sat down just to look and to study.

  We must find a river, sail up the river and inland for a short distance, then establish a base. Part of our goods we would bury, and carefully conceal the place of hiding. If attacked or robbed we must not lose all. Then I must approach some strong chieftain and establish an alliance with him, and choose a site on the river for a town.

  A river-crossing not too far from the sea, a place where Indians were used to come, yet reachable by ocean vessels. For it was in my mind to establish a trading post which would grow into a city. Rome had begun at a river crossing, and London, too.

  Now we were in new land, a free land, a land to be shaped as we wished, and I hoped then that those who came after me would want, as I wanted, a safe land for people, for homes, for freedom.

  All this was good, this open land. I thought of the crowded streets of London, of the poor I had seen there, and of many of the men with whom I'd worked in the quarries, each hungry for his own bit of land. Why not here?

  Not all the land for a few great lords, but a piece of land for each man, land to grow crops, to keep bees and a cow.

  Suddenly there was movement. Below me, moving in single file, four savages moved stealthily. Four armed with bows, moving toward the point on which we had camped!

  Four of them, three of us, but we were scattered, and neither Sakim nor Rufisco knew of their coming.

  Four ... and they were painted for war. I had heard of that.

  My position was a good one, for I stood close to the trunk of a huge oak, thicker than two of me; and beside me were others, almost as large. There were fallen timbers about; it was not an easy place to approach.

  What to do? I hesitated to shoot a man who had not seen me, yet if I didn't they would stalk and kill me if they could.

  And if they were allowed to go on they would find my friends and perhaps kill them, too.

  Something brushed leaves behind me, and I turned swiftly. An Indian stood there, but he lifted his hand, palm out. "No enemy you," he said, and he pointed at the four warriors in the trail below "There enemy!"

  A half dozen Indians came up through the trees, and scarcely glancing at me, sifted through the brush and trees along the hillside.

  "I am Barnabas," I said. "I come to trade and to learn."

  "I am Potaka. I speak white man many time. I friend."

  "I have two friends." I held up two fingers. "There. ..." I pointed. "No hurt."

  He was gone, and I waited. For several minutes I waited, heard a piercing yell, then a running and a movement in the brush.

  Suddenly, one of the Indians I had seen in the trail below came running toward me. There was a long scratch on his arm and he carried a bloody knife. He rushed through the brush and burst into the clearing where I stood.

  For a moment he stopped, as i
f transfixed, but I stared back at him and made no move. He looked, grunted something, then was gone. Obviously, I had astonished him.

  Potaka came back, on the run. "He come?"

  "That way," I pointed. "He came, and he fled. Very quick."

  Potaka hesitated, then sheathed his knife. "It is enough. We kill two."

  "You speak very good English."

  He smiled broadly. "Me friend Englishman. No friend Espanish. Sometime Espanish fight us. Sometime English fight Espanish. One time Englishman, Potaka fight Espanish together. You like?"

  "Your village is near?"

  "Far ... two sleeps." He pointed inland. "You come?"

  "Later."

  Potaka looked about. "You are only three?"

  "Our ship comes back soon," I said, casually. "We were left to find friendly Indians who wish to trade. We wish to trade knives, needles, and cloth for furs."

  "Come to my village. Welcome. No parlay to them. They kill."

  He was a man of medium height, strong, no darker than many a Portuguese, and quick in his movements. His expression was friendly, and there was much about him I liked.

  "We fight Espanish many time," he said. "Englishman live among us ... long time."

  "Is he with you now?"

  "No more. He live four, five year, then he say he see behind mountains. Maybe seven moons pass. Maybe dead now."

  From my belt I took a knife. It was keen of blade, and as long as my forearm. I extended it to him, haft first. "For you, my friend," I said, and gave it to him.

  He knelt suddenly, tracing with his finger in the dust. He pointed to the river nearby. Then with his finger he showed the river, a trail leading from it. "Village here," he said. "You come."

  He picked up his spear. "You come," he repeated, and then he was gone.

  I waited, listening. There was no sound for a long time, and so I went down through the trees toward our camp, and after a long walk, arrived there.

  Rufisco greeted me. Sakim emerged from the willows. "There was fighting?" Rufisco asked.

  "Among the Indians," I said, "and I may have made a friend."

  "I do not trust them," Rufisco muttered. "They are savages."