Sackett's Land

by Louis L'Amour

  "We have to decide." He glanced at the others. "Do we take her back to the others? Or keep her here for awhile?"

  At that moment I stood up directly opposite her, and she saw me at once. I wasted no time on politeness or warnings. These were evil men and I well knew it. I loosed an arrow at the man nearest Darkling, a swarthy, muscular fellow who looked to be the most dangerous.

  The distance was not over fifteen yards, if so much, and the arrow shot true.

  It went through him about six inches above his great brass belt-buckle, and he gave a grunt and grabbed it with both hands, then went to his knees.

  The others turned sharply, but I had dropped down, another arrow notched and ready. Someone shot, far to the right, for my target had half-turned after taking the arrow, giving a false impression of its origin.

  My second arrow was less successful, for it struck a great bone-button on the man's coat. One saw few buttons and I had no use for them, and less now. The arrow glanced upward, inflicting a minor scratch on the man's face, and then they saw me.

  Both men came out with their blades and they started for me. Abigail—bless her—gathered her skirts and fled into the brush.

  Managing a longbow in that brush was not easy, so I tried no more shots, nor did I intend to fight. I simply fled as she had done, circling to intercept her, which I soon did. I could hear them crashing in the brush, but they were off the point. Catching Abigail by the hand, we ran a weaving route through the trees and to my sandhill.

  There was a deep cut in that dune made by some water cutting a way down where a tree's roots had left a gaping hole. We climbed to the hill's top, hidden as it was, and sat down on a great log.

  "I must say," Abigail said, "you took long enough!"

  "Long enough?" I stared at her dumbfounded.

  "Well," she smoothed her skirt with both hands, "if a man is going to rescue a lady he should have done it sooner, but thank you, nonetheless. I am obliged."

  "Where is the Tiger?"

  "On the sand not far from here. That awful Captain Bardle hulled her twice and shot away our foremast. Several of the men have been killed and all were scattered."

  "Captain Tempany?"

  "He's kept some of them together! I was going to join him with Lila. She turned back to the ship to get something she had forgotten, and while I waited these men rushed from the trees and captured me."

  We had a good view and for the moment we were safe.

  I could barely make out the Tiger through the trees. She was hard aground, no mistaking that, and her foremast was down, trailing over her side. When I moved away a little to get a better view, I could see no movement near her. Nor was there any sign of the Jolly Jack.

  "I think we had best remain," I suggested, "until matters settle down a bit. From here we can see all about and can choose our way when we leave."

  She glanced at the bow. "Where did you get that?"

  "I made it. It isn't very good, but I was hungry and in a hurry."

  "I think it does very well. I could have cheered when you shot that man." She glanced at me. "We are going to have a bad time, aren't we?"

  I shrugged, watching the beach and the slope to the beach. "She doesn't look too badly hurt," I nodded to indicate the Tiger, "so we may be able to float her again."

  Pacing about I studied all the approaches to our sandhill. It appeared to offer so little in the way of shelter that I doubted they would come hence, yet if they wished to see about—

  "I am very tired," Abigail said suddenly. "Would you think me ungrateful if I slept?"

  "You'd be wise," I said bluntly. "My father was a soldier and he always told me a good soldier never stood when he could sit, and never sat when he could lie down, and ate whenever there was food."

  I showed her a place near a log where leaves had thickly gathered. It was a shadowed place and still. I picked up broken branches from the leaves and smoothed them for her, and when she lay down she went at once to sleep. Would that I could lie down and sleep so easily!

  I peered at the woods below. After a while I found several straight, light branches and commenced to work on them with an edge of stone to make more arrows for the crude quiver I had shaped from bark.

  Suddenly a knowledge came upon me. I would take my furs and return to England. But I would gather about me a few trusty souls and return again. This was the land!

  Yet there was a shadow across my return. Rupert Genester would be there, awaiting me.

  Well, he need not wait. I would seek him out, and have done with it once and for all.

  I must find Captain Tempany and we must prepare to assert ourselves. We must rear a defensible position and we must repair and refloat, if possible, the Tiger. If not, but one thing remained.

  Take the Jolly Jack.

  It would serve Nick Bardle right to be left ashore, then. My eyes went again to the Tiger. The three-master was well aground, but aside from the fallen mast seemed to be damaged but little. It had been hulled twice, Abigail said. Yet the holes might be patched.

  My furs should still be aboard her, and some of my trade goods.

  Abigail was stirring when I next looked at her, and then her eyes opened. She looked at me, startled, then gradually came awake. She sat up. Automatically her hands went to her hair. "Barnabas!" It was, I believed, the first time she had called me that. "What shall we do?"

  "Go down to the Tiger," I said.

  "The Tiger! But they will find us there!"

  "We do nothing here. Sooner or later Captain Tempany will come back to his ship. We shall be there and ready."

  "And if Nick Bardle comes first?"

  "We shall prepare to receive him. I have no time to waste dodging him, nor do I intend to. He has cost me dearly already, but next time he shall pay."

  Late afternoon came across the sound leaving an edging of silver on the sand behind it, dusk crept up the hills and erased the last vestiges of color from the tops of the old trees. And when the last shadow was gone, we went down from the mountain and across the beach to the vessel.

  Aft, where she lay in water, a rope ladder trailed down. Sheathing my sword, a dagger in my teeth, I went up and aboard, ready for what might come. All was dark and still.

  Abigail followed after, doing remarkably well on the ladder and over the rail, despite her skirts. Aft we went to the cabin, and all was dark and quiet. Over the stern lights I hung a heavy blanket from the bed, and then cautiously, with flint and steel, a light.

  All was in turmoil. What I looked for was a pistol, and finding one, I charged it. What Abigail looked for was clothing, and she found it.

  "I want to change," she said, looking at me.

  "Change then," I replied, "but quickly." Stepping out I closed the door behind me, then went into the smaller mate's quarters and felt about for the hasp of the gunlocker. It was intact.

  Apparently Bardle had been too intent on pursuit of Tempany to loot the Tiger, or believed it safely within his hands, with no need for hurry.

  Breaking the hasp with an axe from a nearby bulkhead, I took out a musket, another pistol, and charged both. On the after rail was mounted a swivel-gun, and I charged it also. It could cover a large part of the beach from the high side of the vessel. The Tiger was canted slightly to the starboard side, and the swivel-gun, mounted on the port rail, had an excellent field of fire.

  From the galley I brought food to the cabin, knocked, and was admitted. Abigail looked lovely in a simple gray dress with white cuffs and collar. She had made up a small bundle of whatever she might need, and stood ready for leaving.

  There was ham, ship's bread, some onions and a bit of dried fruit from the master's mess. Taking a careful look around from the ship's deck, I then joined Abigail in the cabin where we sat to table and ate. We were hungry, and it pleased me mightily to see the hungry way in which Abigail sank her dainty teeth into a bit of ham I'd sliced for her.

  I pulled a draught of ale for each, and with mine in one hand and a chunk of ham
in the other, I returned to the deck. The beach was empty so far as I could see, but it was growing quite dark. Going below once more, I sat down and finished the best meal I'd had in days, and then began to pack a sack with food to be taken if time and circumstance allowed.

  "We are going now?" she asked, watching me pack the sack.

  There was reluctance in her tone, and I understood why.

  "Not tonight," I said, "unless we must. Do you sleep now, in a good bunk. Tomorrow we will think of going."

  "And you?"

  "I'll watch," I said. "Be off with you now."

  She left, and the door closed gently behind her. I peered out into the darkness from near the swivel-gun. I knew how tired she must be, for I was also tired.

  I leaned on the rail and my muscles cried out for me to lie down ... for a minute only.

  There was no sound but the rustle of surf on the sand. Search the woods as I might, I could see no gleam of fire, nor could I hear any sound. It was very still.

  Chapter 16

  My eyes closed. Almost at once they were open and I felt fear go through me like a shaft of steel, cold and bitter.

  To sleep might be to die. More than that, I would leave her whom ... I hesitated at what I suddenly thought ... whom I loved.

  There ... the thought was complete. But was it so? Did I love Abigail Tempany? And if so, why? A lovely girl, gentle enough yet with courage and more strength than one would suspect. A lady, but a bright one—she was intelligent, with a good measure of common sense, and the two are not always one.

  Now I was awake. For the moment at least my weariness disappeared in contemplation of this new thought. I was in love. Yet why should Abigail Tempany, of all people, love me?

  Not that she did, of course. There was no reason for it. Why should anybody love me? I was a somewhat ordinary man with ordinary impulses, and some measure of ambition, but I had little, I was less.

  Yet I would be something ... that I knew.

  I loved a lady, a fair lady. I wished she were mine in one breath and was glad she was not in a second, for where could I take such a lady? To a cottage in the fens? Abigail? Even if she would consider it, I would not. Would I have her offer slop to pigs and bake eels?

  I loved a lady, and a lady must live as a lady deserves.

  Well, what was it Jublain had said? I had a sword. Indeed I had, and with a sword a man might win a kingdom, might hold that kingdom against all who came—and might also lose his head for trying.

  Suddenly something bumped the hull ... bumped again. I lifted the sword. I heard the slap of bare feet on the deck, then more feet.

  A voice spoke. "There be naught aboard, Cap'n. She's still as death she is, and nobody's taken the hatches off her. What was there is still there."

  "Get off that ladder!" It was Nick Bardle's voice. "I am coming aboard."

  There was a solid dark cluster of them where the rope ladder hung, and I turned the swivel on them with great good cheer.

  "Here's a bit of something for yourself, Cap'n!" I shouted, and fired the swivel.

  She belched a solid blast of flame and I heard the thud of the shot as it struck, and a scream. Then I upped with a pistol and let go at a shadow that separated itself from the others, and then another blast from my second pistol and suddenly a third, and this from the cabin door.

  Abigail, bless her!

  Then with a wild yell from my throat, I went along the deck and at them. I knew not how many they were, nor they how many were here. My swinging blade cut this way and that, a scream, a cry, a clang of metal on metal, and then they were all about me and I was fighting for my life.

  Suddenly from below there was a rush of feet, and another cry, and somebody yelled out, "Who's that? Who is that, damn them to hell?"

  Somebody was also attacking from below, so I was not alone. Not yet, at least. I parried a blade, thrust, stepped back and with a toe kicked a block in the way of my opponent who spilled over it to hands and knees. If he came up from that—I flicked my blade sidewise and down in a quick gesture—up from that he'd have to fasten his head on again.

  Somebody leaped the rail to escape, and another gun flamed beside me. There was Abigail, hair wild about her shoulders in that fleeting glimpse, but aiming with another pistol, and God knows where she found them or how she had charged them.

  A man loomed at the head of the ladder and my thrust took him at the base of the throat and lifted. If he lived, that one, he'd truly have a cleft chin.

  There was another sound of running feet, a blast or two from below, and then a jumble of voices among which I detected Brian Tempany's.

  "Welcome aboard, Cap'n," I said cheerfully, "but do you step carefully. I think they've left some'at behind."

  "Is it you, Sackett?"

  "Aye, and pleased to see you, and at my side is a lady who shoots uncommon well."

  She was there, close against my elbow, her head just a jot above my shoulder. "And how did you come to be awake?"

  "I never slept," she said, "for I could see you were heavy with sleep, and was hopeful you'd sleep, for well you should have."

  "And I stayed awake for you," I said.

  Tempany came over the rail. Dim his face was, in the vague light of a dawn not far away. "I thought you two were dead," he spoke quietly, "I thought Bardle had killed you."

  Jublain was at my elbow. "Are you well, then? You've not taken a cutting?"

  "Well, aye," I said, "but you shall find some about who are not."

  "Four dead on the deck," Corvino said with satisfaction, "and one who fell overside. And there were three done in by us when we closed, and before they broke. I've a feeling there's a few who will carry scars, if they live."

  "Sakim?"

  "I am here, my friend. A little used, but here."

  "Come," Tempany said, "we'll go below. Courtney, you and Fitzpatrick stay on deck. I'll send a tot of rum for each. The rest of you below for what is coming to you.

  "Sackett," he turned to me, "come to the cabin. We've much to talk about."

  I sheathed my sword, and turned, staggering a little from the onset of weariness now that it was over, or seemed to be. A hand steadied me. "I am beside you, Barnabas, but not strong enough to hold you if you fall, so please stand up!"

  Abigail went into her cubbyhole of a cabin.

  Tempany had lighted a lantern. We stepped into the cabin. He took up a bottle and two glasses, and then he looked at me under his brows. "Rum? Or no rum? You refused it before."

  "This once," I said, "to revive the spirit."

  "Ah, we won't talk of that. Your spirit seems in excellent shape, man. And there're a few things for us to discuss, even tonight."

  He paused, tasted his rum, then tossed it off, neat and quick. He swallowed, looked at me and put his glass down. "Have you looked at her?"

  "At Abigail?" I said.

  "No, damn it, at the ship. Have you seen her by day?"

  "I have."

  "Do you think she'll float again?"

  "I do, but if I am wrong there's the Jack."

  "The what?"

  "We can take the Jolly Jack. She's a good sailer and well-armed, and she deserves better than that lot aboard her now."

  "That would be difficult and dangerous," he said, after awhile. "Let us have a look at the Tiger."

  Yet it was sleep I needed, and I said as much. Reluctantly, he agreed, and when I had stretched out on a settee in the cabin, he went on deck. Obviously if the Tiger could be saved, he intended to save it.

  I slept, and dreamed of the purple mountains I'd glimpsed far off in the distance when up the river. Those mountains haunted me, and why I knew not. When my eyes opened next, the day was well along and I could smell ham being cooked, and a sound of rustling around in the galley.

  For a few minutes I lay still. My mind was filled with the substance of the dream. Somehow, come what may, I must see those mountains. I must walk their trails, know them. Somehow all that was England had faded until it was d
ifficult to even recognize faces I used to know, I could not bring them to memory. I sat up and pulled on my boots, buckled on my sword, then stood for a moment, peering through the parted curtain of the stern lights.

  The water was choppy, but not rough. The sky was overcast. I went out on deck, and the first to greet me was Jublain.

  "Tempany says you have some idea of taking the Jack?"

  "If we need her." I glanced toward the beach and the trees and sandhills beyond. Nothing moved.

  "It's a bad lot aboard there. A bad, bad lot, but they can fight."

  "We'd have to get most of them ashore," I suggested.

  Tempany came over the rail. "We can float her," he said, "and the holes can be patched well enough, though there's a deal of work to be done."

  He brushed salt from his hands. "What's it like inland, Sackett? Is there land worth having?"

  "Some of the fairest I've seen. There's game in plenty, and cattle would thrive here, or pigs or sheep. Tempany," I looked around at him, across my shoulder, "a man could become wealthy here."

  "What of the Indians?"

  "They war much with each other, so one could not be friends with all, and a man must step carefully to learn of their ways, which be different than ours. But with a good stockade and a few swivel guns a man could protect himself while trying to deal fairly."

  Food was brought to the cabin table, and I ate, and well, yet there was more to worry me, for I knew that Nick Bardle, a revengeful man, was still alive.

  We needed a foremast, so with Jublain, Corvino, and Sakim and several of Tempany's men, I led the way into the woods to where some likely mast timber could be found. While they felled the tree, I looked about, marking various trees for future falling, and studying the land for a likely spot for a trading station.

  It must be on the river, in a position easily defended, with timber available and a spring if possible.

  We floated our tree down river and guided it about to the position of the Tiger. All went well, and we saw nothing of Bardle nor his men, nor of the Jolly Jack.