by Paul Clayton
“There are men watching us,” said Eneyah, interrupting.
“Huh?” said Montaign.
“Over there.” Eneyah pointed to the low, bushy trees.
Three Indians had emerged into the pale light of early evening and were walking toward them.
“Are they your people?” Montaign asked Eneyah.
“No,” said Eneyah, “they are Coosa, very bad people.”
The Indians made no hostile moves and Montaign signaled the soldiers to let them approach. They wore only breechclouts and were painted red, white and black in a grotesque fashion.
“Ask them what they want,” said Montaign to Eneyah.
Eneyah put the question to Black Snake and waited for the reply. He then turned to Montaign, speaking in pidgin French, “his name, Black Snake. He say he will help us to kill the Spanish who did this.”
Montaign raised his eyebrows at Dumarr. “What do you think?”
Before Dumarr could answer, Eneyah interrupted. “Coosa always lie. He only want get pay, then he run away.”
Dumarr said to Montaign, “Perhaps we can use him. He may know a faster route to the Spanish fort than I.” Dumarr then turned to Eneyah. “Ask him if he can prove that he has been in touch with the Spanish.”
Eneyah translated.
Black Snake opened the fringed skin pouch on his belt. He took out and displayed a gold and amber ring that caught and amplified the waning day’s pink light. Black Snake put it back in his pouch and waited.
“What does he want for his services?” asked Montaign.
Eneyah put the question to Black Snake, then turned to Montaign. “He want one shooting stick for himself.”
Montaign scoffed. “Hah! Why not ask for one of the ship’s boats as well. Tell him that is too much.”
Eneyah seemed to grow taller as he relayed the Frenchman’s refusal. Black Snake spat something in reply and Eneyah turned back to Montaign.
“He says he and his men will fight with us against the Spanish.”
“Still not good enough,” said Montaign. “Three more men are not going to make much of a difference.”
“He says he has more,” said Eneyah.
“Where?” said Montaign.
Not waiting for the translation, Black Snake raised his arm and dozens of bravos came out of the forest into the clearing.
“I count thirty,” said Dumarr.
“So do I,” said Montaign. He turned to Eneyah. “Tell him he will get his harquebus, but after the attack.”
Eneyah translated for Black Snake. The Coosa bravo argued heatedly with him and Eneyah appeared shaken at the exchange.
“He say, ‘no good’. He say he get shooting stick now. You show him how to shoot and then he will tell his men to fight with us.”
Montaign frowned as he considered.
Dumarr said, “These men are good fighters. Thirty of them could make a big difference. Besides, we don’t know how many men have been landed at New Castile since the attack.”
Montaign nodded. “Hmm, I see.” He waved over one of the soldiers and took the man’s harquebus from him. He extended it to Black Snake and the bravo took hold of it as if it were alive.
Montaign turned to Eneyah. “Tell him we will show him how to shoot it in the morning when the light is good.”
Eneyah translated.
Black Snake held the harquebus at arm’s length. His eyes grew big as they inspected the long, oiled barrel.
Later that evening, Montaign stood with his cape wrapped about him as he stared into a small fire. Nearby, the soldiers joked and talked quietly as they prepared for sleep. Dumarr lay on the ground, his face to the flickering flames. Eneyah sat on his buttocks, his hands wrapped around his knees. He kept a wary eye on the Coosa bravos a hundred paces away at their own fires.
“How far is the French Fort from where you found the Arawak woman?” asked Montaign.
Dumarr had propped his head up on his elbow. “Not far. About two hours march. How will you pinpoint it for the ships?”
Montaign looked at the sea. “Once we locate it, we will put one squad of men north, and one south. The signal fires they light at night will enable the ships to find it.”
Dumarr was about to say something when a commotion came from the Coosa bravos. They were on their feet, moving about their fires.
“What are they up to?” said Montaign.
“I don’t know,” said Dumarr.
Montaign looked at Eneyah, noticing the concern on the Yamasee’s face. He took off his cape and strapped on his sword. “We better find out. Eneyah, come with me.”
Dumarr and Eneyah got to their feet as Montaign called back to the soldiers, “Keep a sharp eye. We will talk to them.”
Black Snake was shouting to his men when Montaign and the others walked up to him. Some of Black Snake’s men were throwing sticks onto the fires; others began walking toward the woods.
“Eneyah,” said Montaign, “what he is doing?”
Eneyah spoke with Black Snake then turned back to Montaign. “He wants to test the shooting stick. He said that he cannot wait until daylight. He has ordered his men to build fires so he can see.”
Montaign nodded. “Light the match for him.”
Eneyah took a stick from the fire and lit the match on Black Snake’s harquebus. He stood with Montaign and Dumarr as the Coosa bravos returned from the forest dragging small, spindly fallen trees and larger, rotted tree limbs. Black Snake stood proud and impassive as he cradled the long harquebus in his arms. Every few minutes he ran his hand along its length, marveling at its cold, steel smoothness. The bravos made a racket as they cracked the long tree limbs into pieces and threw them onto the fires. Soon the area was ablaze with heat and light.
Black Snake barked out orders and his men moved behind him. He called out and one of his bravos stepped forward. The man blinked with nervousness as Black Snake directed a harangue at him. Then the man walked off a short distance and turned. Black Snake brought the harquebus up to his cheek. Not used to holding such a heavy weapon, Black Snake had trouble keeping the wavering harquebus pointed at the man’s chest.
Dumarr frowned in amazement. “He wants a real test.”
“Yes,” said Montaign. “Eneyah, quickly. Tell him to stop.”
As Eneyah argued with Black Snake, Montaign said, “Eneyah, he shall have to content himself with another kind of test. We bargained with him for thirty bravos on this raid, not twenty nine! Tell him!”
Eneyah came back. “He is very angry and suspects a trick. He says that he and his men will not go with us in the morning if he doesn’t have a test of the shooting stick now.”
Montaign shouted to the soldiers. “Bring up one of those water casks.”
A soldier carried over a barrel the size of a man’s chest. Montaign pointed to a tree stump. “Put it there.” In the light of the bonfires, the soldier’s face was wet with sweat as he set the heavy barrel down on the stump. Black Snake watched with an air of arrogant indifference.
Montaign walked up to him and pointed to the barrel which stood fifty paces distant. “There is your test, sir. Shoot!”
Black Snake lifted the harquebus to his cheek and sighted along the barrel. There was a click as the match closed, followed by a thunderous boom and a cloud of smoke. Black Snake stared with disbelief at the shattered remains of the barrel which looked as if it had been smashed by a giant. Behind it, a plume of wetted earth was all that remained of the water. His eyes blazing in the firelight, Black Snake raised the harquebus over his head and turned to his men. He screamed out his war cry repeatedly and his men joined in. Montaign, Dumarr and Eneyah cringed at the ferocity of the sound. In the cool night air, the cries echoed off the distant tree line, sounding as if someone had thrown open the very gates of hell.
***
Up on Turtle Hill, Black Snake and his bravos looked down at the Spanish fort as they waited for the French ships to arrive and begin their assault. Then he and his men would rush down with
the French soldiers to attack. His men were quiet but he knew they were very excited. Soon they would push the Spanish invaders back into the sea. Black Snake was more excited about what would take place after the battle. Then he would carry the thunderstick into Aguacay and kill the Spanish spy, Calling Crow. The thought of getting revenge filled him with joy and he had to restrain himself from screaming out his war cry.
They waited in the shade as the day passed. Shortly after noon the ships were spotted. Not long afterward, the cannons erupted with a gut-shaking rumble that awed Black Snake and his men. They looked at each other in dumb silence, not believing the vehemence of the noise. A trumpet blasted and the French began shouting as they rushed out of the trees and down the hill. Black Snake and his men followed. At the bottom of the hill they came within range of the Spanish thundersticks and Montaign motioned for all to take cover in the grass. Small groups of French rushed forward while others fired their thundersticks. Black Snake noticed Eneyah’s wide, bony shoulders twenty paces ahead where he had crouched down obediently. Black Snake brought the thunderstick up to his cheek, sighted and pulled the trigger. Eneyah’s head disappeared in a flash of smoke and blood. Black Snake screamed out his war cry and rushed forward with the others. Soon Calling Crow, too, would fall down dead.
***
Calling Crow stood in the rear of the council house with Red Feather. Sees Far sat on a bench across from them, packing his pipe. Calling Crow handed the old man a glowing stick from the fire. Sees Far began puffing, the aromatic smoke billowing around his head. Calling Crow was tired from lack of sleep and he hoped the smoke would provide some clarity and relief. All night long he had dreamt of the flowing blood and the ship that would bear him away. Then he would wake to the sounds of a great battle and the screams of women and children. This morning he had sought out Sees Far for an explanation. Sees Far had suggested they smoke tobacco while Calling Crow talked about the dream.
Calling Crow took the aromatic smoke deep into his lungs and told Sees Far his dream.
The old man nodded when he finished. “The meaning is stuck inside of you. I’ve already asked one of the young men to prepare the sweat house. We will do ceremony and pray for an answer.”
Calling Crow nodded.
Red Feather took a puff of smoke and blew it skyward. “Calling Crow, Green Bird Woman’s slave Santee told me something.”
“What?” said Calling Crow.
“Before he disappeared seven days ago, Black Snake brought a gift of skins to Green Bird Woman.”
Sees Far laughed softly. “I’ve heard this story already.”
“What happened?” said Calling Crow.
Red Feather smiled. “She lined her dog pen with them. Black Snake was so insulted he had to leave.”
The others laughed, but Calling Crow said nothing. His heart was too troubled to laugh.
Sees Far passed the pipe to Calling Crow. “Thunder,” he said, “it’s very far, however. Perhaps we will get rain later today.”
Calling Crow held the pipe in his hands as he listened to the distant thunder. A terrible realization struck him. The reports were too frequent for thunder. He had heard this sound a long time ago. Spanish cannons! He gave the pipe to Sees Far. “Not thunder,” he said, “cannons! There is fighting at Spanish Town!” Calling Crow turned to go. “I have to get Juana out of there.”
“I will go with you,” said Red Feather.
Calling Crow lifted his bow and iron club down from where they hung on the wall.
***
Calling Crow and Red Feather ran grim-faced and silent through the forest as the cannon fire echoed louder and louder under the trees. Ominously, just before they reached the area of the fort, it stopped. Calling Crow felt as if his heart, too, had stopped. They ran on and soon they could smell the burning timbers of the fort. They came out of the forest north of Turtle Hill.
The palisade of the Spanish fort lay smashed and burning. Only the walls of the uncompleted adobe church still stood. Two ships had anchored offshore and some mounted soldiers could be seen riding south along the beach. Many soldiers remained in the area of the burned fort.
“Aieyee,” said Red Feather, “it is over.”
Calling Crow said nothing as he took in the scene. If they went near the fort, they would surely be taken prisoner. Perhaps Juana had made it into the forest, Calling Crow prayed. If she had, he knew where she would go.
He turned to Red Feather. “We cannot go on the beach; they’ll run us down with their horses. Let’s work our way north, keeping the cover of the forest.”
Calling Crow and Red Feather ran beneath the trees. Several times they were forced to hide as large groups of soldiers marched noisily past on the trails. Finally they reached the copse enclosing the dream place and pushed inside. Calling Crow’s heart leapt with joy when he spotted Juana sitting on the bank next to Father Tomas. Father Tomas helped Juana to her feet and Calling Crow was surprised to see that he wore a sword about the waistline of his Black Robe.
Juana came to Calling Crow and threw her arms around him. “You have come!”
Calling Crow held her tight. “Are there any others that have escaped?”
Juana shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Father Tomas came over to them. “There may be others, but we haven’t heard or seen anyone for a while. Many of us escaped into the forest, but the soldiers were right behind us, along with some of the bravos from your village.”
Calling Crow knew that that would be Black Snake and his men.
The priest continued. “They pursued us relentlessly and I’m afraid many were killed. We were very fortunate to get away.”
Calling Crow turned to Red Feather. “We must get them to Aguacay.”
***
Because of Juana’s condition, they were forced to stop several times as they moved through the forest so she could rest. After a while they came to a grassy savanna. Calling Crow and Red Feather peered out at the open expanse as Juana and the priest sat and rested. No wind moved the tall grass and the area appeared deserted.
“She cannot move very fast,” said Red Feather. “Should we go around the long way?”
Calling Crow studied the distant tree line. “That would be hard on her too. Let us wait and watch for a while. Then, if there is nothing, we will cross.”
They started across the field, keeping low in the waist high grass. After they had gone a little ways, soldiers burst from the tree line they were headed for. They hurried back the way they had come, the soldiers gaining on them. Back inside the forest, Juana leaned against a tree, holding her belly as if in pain, while Father Tomas collapsed on the ground, winded. Red Feather pointed to a small animal trail leading into a thicket. “Calling Crow, take Juana in there and hide. Quickly! The priest and I will lead them off.”
Calling Crow took Juana’s hand and they crawled inside. Soon the shouts of the soldiers filled the forest. Calling Crow and Juana looked into each other’s eyes as they waited. Juana’s breathing was still labored, but she managed to keep silent. The noise of the soldiers grew louder. Then Calling Crow and Juana heard them hacking at the bushes with their swords. Juana looked at the ground, her lips moving in silent prayer. A sword penetrated the bushes and was withdrawn. The hacking increased in intensity, the searchers cursing in anger. A thrashing sounded, leaves fluttering down, and Jacques Dumarr’s head pushed into view. He saw Calling Crow and Juana and his reddened face quivered with hatred and rage. He stared at them for what seemed an eternity and then disappeared.
As Jacques angrily shouted at the other French, Calling Crow looked at Juana. He could face his own death, but the death of the woman he had always loved, and his own child, was another matter. On the other side of the bushes, the angry shouting grew in intensity and Juana embraced Calling Crow. They heard the sounds of the soldiers hurrying off. It grew quiet and after a while, Jacques anguished voice called to them in Spanish, “My son is dead! All this time I have waited-- to kill you! I thou
ght I could-- “Jacques began crying. Then he blurted out, “My child is gone, but I give your child life. Goodbye.”
Calling Crow and Juana heard his footsteps hurrying off and soon it grew quiet again. They remained hidden in the bushes for a long time. When it seemed safe, Calling Crow beckoned to Juana and they crawled out. Calling Crow said softly, “Come, we must get away from here now. The others may come back this way.”
They walked through the dim light of the forest, coming to a broad trail. Calling Crow wanted to stay in the thick growth, but that required stepping over fallen trees and crawling through thickets, and Juana was already weak. They walked the trail for a long while, the forest growing very quiet. Calling Crow thought it would be safe to give Juana a rest. They sat, saying nothing. A squirrel in the tree above scolded them with chattering little bark. Calling Crow looked up and said, “The same God that speaks to the Spanish must also speak to Jacques.”
Juana nodded. “Yes. I guess he has seen enough blood spilled this day.”
Calling Crow said nothing and they rested a while longer. The forest grew quiet around them. Juana placed Calling Crow’s hand on her belly. “I was worried, but he just kicked me. He will again-- there! Did you feel it?”
Calling Crow nodded. “Yes. He wants to come out into the world.”
“And he shall,” said Juana, “soon.” She put his hand to her lips and kissed it. “Help me up. We must get to your village.”
Calling Crow helped Juana to her feet and they started down the broad trail. They walked for a long time without hearing anything but for the normal sounds of the forest. Calling Crow made Juana take another rest and they talked quietly. “How much further?” said Juana.
“Not much,” said Calling Crow. “We are very close.”
They got to their feet and walked on, soon coming to the trading place that Atina had established so long ago. “We are almost there,” Calling Crow said. They continued walking and a figure stepped out of the trees a hundred paces ahead. It was Black Snake. He raised the thunderstick to his cheek.
