by Peter Roop
Throwing her hat on the ground, she reached behind and bunched her long hair together. Holding the ax in one hand and her hair in the other, she rubbed her hair against the blade. At first only a few strands were cut. She tightened her grip on her hair and bore down on the blade. She cut until her hand swung free, a foot of red tresses dangling from it.
Samantha went to the Fish Hawk and pulled out an old piece of sailcloth. She gently wrapped her hair in it and hid the bundle with her other belongings. Then she twisted her remaining hair into a rat’s tail and tied it with twine. Now she had a queue like James’s. She put on her hat, climbed into her boat, and set sail for Burleigh’s Landing.
Samantha’s thoughts were jumbled. She didn’t want to hurt Mama. But she had to help Henry. What if she got caught like Henry? What if James got caught too? Maybe she shouldn’t go through with her idea. “I must find Henry,” she repeated over and over.
Samantha saw Burleigh’s Landing. The Cardinal, tied to the wharf, was immense compared to the Fish Hawk. The Cardinal’s single mast towered above its deck. The bowsprit lunged forward like the spear of a swordfish. Samantha counted two cannons, one in the bow and the other in the stern. With only two cannons, she thought, how will the Cardinal ever fight the British?
For the first time, Samantha realized that she had chosen sides. She was going to sail against the British. Maybe even fight. No matter what, I will not fire upon them, she promised herself.
A sudden gust of wind made the Fish Hawk heel and brought Samantha’s attention back to her boat. She couldn’t just sail up to the wharf, hop out, and climb aboard the Cardinal. She had to create a plan quickly. She had been worrying so much about Mama and Henry that she had not planned what she would do when she reached Burleigh’s Landing.
She came about and sailed back the way she had come. Once out of sight, she looked for a place to land. She thought about hiding the Fish Hawk up a small creek and going overland but dismissed that idea almost as soon as it had taken shape. Trudging through the swamps and marshes would be impossible. What if she missed the Cardinal’s sailing?
She looked at the sun. It had swung past noon. Papa and James should be arriving soon. What if she waited until nearly sunset? That would give James and Matthew time to settle aboard, and by then their fathers would be on their separate ways home. At sunset she would sail past the wharf and up Queen’s Creek. She’d land somewhere near the road and reach Burleigh’s Landing that way.
The afternoon stretched on and on. The sun beat down on Samantha. She filled her hat with water and dumped it over her head. The cool water brought some relief. It felt odd not having her long hair hanging down her back. She wished she had remembered to bring along food. By suppertime she was starving. But each time she felt sorry for herself, she repeated, “I must help Henry. I must help Henry.”
As the huge orange ball of the sun was setting, Samantha turned the Fish Hawk toward the landing. The wind pushed her along. She gazed in wonder again at the Cardinal. Samantha could hardly believe she was going to sail on her. She waved at some sailors watching her pass. She kept her distance, though, so no one would recognize her boat.
A mile upstream she guided the Fish Hawk into the mouth of a small creek. The tide was out, and she ran the bow up on shore. She furled the sails. Then, grabbing her canvas bag in one hand and the painter in the other, she leaped into the black mud. It squished to the tops of her moccasins. Squelching through it, she tied her boat securely to a tree. She struck the road and turned south. The setting sun peeked through the trees as she stopped and stared at the Cardinal.
How I am going to get aboard? she wondered.
Chapter 21
Samantha watched three sailors standing in the bow, smoking their pipes. Another sailor stood by the gangway.
She looked at the village of Burleigh’s Landing. She could make out a few buildings in the dim light. A door opened, and a shaft of light fell on a swinging sign. Even from a distance, Samantha could tell it was the Boar’s Head Tavern. Sounds of laughter and singing drifted on the evening air. The door closed and the sounds died away.
Samantha walked to the tavern. Several wagons were drawn up in front of the tavern. She gasped. One was Papa’s wagon. She recognized the eagle branded into its side—the eagle that stood for the Byrd family, and that was stamped on all of Papa’s tobacco hogsheads.
Samantha slipped behind the tavern. Papa hadn’t gone home. In spite of the heat, she shivered. That meant that Mama did not know where she was, for Papa wouldn’t have seen the note yet. “Please forgive me, Mama,” Samantha whispered.
If Papa was staying the night, then where was James? Was he still with Papa, waiting to go aboard the Cardinal in the morning? Or was he already on board? There was only way to find out. She would approach the sailor on guard duty. If he stopped her, then he didn’t know James. If he let her through, he knew James.
Samantha hitched up her breeches. She brushed her shirt. She reached up to stuff her hair under her hat. When she grabbed the queue she remembered that her long hair was gone. She pulled her hat down tighter on her head. She took a deep breath.
Good luck, she thought, remembering something that Henry had told her long ago: “Luck is a very good word, if you put a p in front of it.”
Well, if nothing else, this will take plenty of pluck, she thought.
As she neared the Cardinal, Samantha walked straight ahead, as if she had business onboard. A bell chimed the hour. A sailor called out, “Eight bells. Give the glass a turn, Matthew.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” he called. Samantha felt relieved. Matthew was on the ship. But what about James?
Samantha walked up the gangway. “Halt,” the sailor on guard duty said. “Who might you be?” He held up a lantern. The beam fell across her face. “Oh, young James Byrd,” he smiled. “I thought you was below.”
“I needed to tend to some last minute business for my father before we sailed,” Samantha said.
“You’d best hang your hammock now, lad,” the sailor said. “We sail on the tide’s change at first light.”
“Thank you,” she said politely as she passed. “I’ll do so immediately.”
She turned toward the stern.
The sailor laughed. “Master James,” he said, “you are not the captain yet. You berth before the mast.”
“Oh,” Samantha replied, scratching her chin. “I plumb forgot.” She wanted to talk with Matthew, who stood near the wheel at the stern. Now she would have to wait.
She changed directions and walked towards the bow. Ahead she saw a hatch with a ladder leading down. Voices rose from the opening. Gingerly, she placed a foot on the first step. Before she could take another, she heard James’s voice.
“Give me back my book!” he cried.
“Give me back my book!” an echoing voice mimicked James.
Samantha was about to plunge down the hatch and throttle whoever was tormenting her brother, but that would give her away. Instead, she slid from the opening. Hugging her canvas bag, she ducked behind a gun carriage to plan her next move. James would have to defend himself.
Her attention was drawn to an opening door. Three men stepped out onto the deck.
“See that you keep our sons out of harm’s way,” one said. Samantha recognized the voice as Uncle John’s.
“Captain Black, my thanks again for taking James on this voyage,” Papa said. “He’s a lad with plenty of book learning but not much experience.”
Samantha stifled a giggle. With Samantha sharing his duties, James was going to be twice the person anyone expected.
The third voice rumbled like gravel on a creek bed. “As long as they do their duties and follow orders, they’ll do fine,” said Captain Black.
“Keep a wary eye open for Dunmore’s naval ships,” Uncle John warned.
“Never you fear, Mr. Byrd. Me lads have been watching them from ship and shore for nigh on a month. There’s not much that misses their eyes.”
And wa
tch for Henry! Samantha wanted to call out. Papa beat her to it. “We especially want news of the Otter.”
Captain Black said, “I’ll try, but there’s no guaranteeing she’ll be out of Newport Harbor. I can’t sail in under the British guns and waylay her.”
“Do your best is all we ask,” Papa said.
“Gentlemen, you have my word,” said Captain Black. “Dunmore’s impressed four of my finest men. Snatched them right off the streets of Newport. I want them back, or I’ll get my revenge. And now, good night. Time and tide wait for no man. We sail at dawn.”
“May God go with you,” Papa said.
“And a fair wind fill your sails,” added Uncle John.
The door closed behind Captain Black. Samantha drew farther back into the shadows as Papa and Uncle John passed her hiding place. They crossed the gangway. Their boots crunched across the oyster shells that paved the road. A shaft of light spilled onto the street as they entered the tavern.
Samantha waited for the Cardinal’s crew to settle. Rumbling snores soon came from below. She peered around the gun carriage. The guard had pulled in the gangplank, and he now sat slumped on a barrel. Matthew paced the deck at the stern, pausing every so often to open the shade on his lantern and look at the hourglass.
Samantha waited until Matthew had struck two bells—nine o’clock—before leaving her hiding place. She was glad now that she had paid attention when Uncle John had explained a few things about shipboard life to James.
Sticking to the shadows, she ducked under the long boom. For a joke, she wanted to startle Matthew by suddenly appearing out of the dark. But he might yell out an alarm. This is no time to play, she reminded herself. The Cardinal was now a ship of war, and Samantha was sailing aboard her.
“Matthew,” she whispered.
He jumped at the sound of her voice. She stepped out of the shadows.
“James,” he hissed. “You’ve frightened me out of a year’s growth. Don’t ever do that again.”
He doesn’t recognize me, Samantha thought. She decided to play along until he caught on. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, trying to sound like James. “Those uncouth men snore like bears.”
“Have you seen Sam?” Matthew asked.
“No,” she replied, “and I’m beginning to worry.”
“I offered to keep this watch on deck so I could spot her,” Matthew confided. “But I am wearying of this duty fast.”
“You know her, Matthew. She’ll do whatever she pleases.”
“I hope she comes before we set sail.”
“Me too,” Sam said. “She’ll be madder than a wet wildcat if we leave without her.”
“I’d not like to tangle with her,” Matthew said.
“Neither would I,” Samantha said. Overhead stars sparkled. “The Chickahominy Indians say that each star is the campfire of a dead warrior,” Samantha said.
“That sounds like something Samantha would say …” Matthew began. He flashed the lantern light on her. “Well, dog my cats,” he laughed. “Samantha Byrd, you’d fool your own mother.”
She grinned and bowed. “James Byrd the Second at your service,” she said.
Chapter 22
Samantha was going to explain her appearance, but Matthew put a finger to her lips.
“Tell me later,” he whispered. “It is too risky here on deck.”
She nodded.
“You will have to hide until I can talk to James. Samantha, sometimes you are more trouble than a family of skunks.”
She punched him on the arm.
“Listen. Go down that hatch by the mast. Then go below that deck to the cargo hold. Hide among the barrels in the stern. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Wait there until my watch is over at midnight. I’ll come below and find you.” He handed her his lantern.
Samantha climbed down through the hatch. In the gloom she could see the second hatch leading into the ship’s hold. She peered down into the blackness. The smell of the bilge water rose like the breath of death. She wanted to pinch her nose closed, but she needed both hands to climb the ladder and hold the lantern. I’ve smelled worse, she told herself, thinking of a rotting horse carcass she had once seen. She climbed into the darkness.
When her feet touched the next deck, she pinched her nose. With her other hand, she held the lantern high as she found her way among the casks, barrels, and hogsheads stored below. Finding a wide space between two barrels, she sat down. She closed the lantern shutter. With her eyes useless in the pitch black, her ears sharpened. First she heard the gentle swish of Queen’s Creek against the ship’s sides. Timbers creaked. As the ship rolled, the contents of the barrels around her shifted. The meat in the cask she was leaning against sloshed back and forth. A dry rustling of claws clicking on the deck sent shivers down her spine.
Rats!
Samantha hugged her knees close to her chest. Closing her eyes, she wished for time to pass quickly. Her weariness slowly overcame her fear, and she slipped into sleep.
Matthew shook her awake. She almost screamed. His lantern blinded her for a moment. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Matthew said.
“Makes no matter,” she replied. “At least you’re not a rat.”
“Sam—” Matthew began.
Samantha cut him short. “Remember: I am James,” she chided him.
“James,” he began anew, “while on my watch, I think I solved our problem.”
“How?”
“We set sail on the tide at dawn. You must remain here until I can talk with James.”
“But—” she interrupted.
“Just listen, Sam … James,” he insisted. “James must learn his duties today. Tonight he can tell them to you, and the following day you can trade places.”
“I can’t stay here in this stench for a whole day,” she snapped. The thought of the rats made her skin crawl.
“Do you have any other ideas?” he hissed.
“No,” she said. “But I’ll think of one by morning.”
Neither one of them said a word. Finally, Matthew broke the silence by handing her a wooden bucket and saying, “Here is bread, cheese, and water from the galley. It is not much, but it was all I could take without making the cook suspicious.”
Samantha eagerly took the bucket and checked its contents. Half starved, she bit into the cheese.
Without another word Matthew disappeared into the darkness. She heard him climb the ladder. The ship’s sounds returned.
Each creak and rustle seemed louder than before. Samantha’s eyes felt heavy, but she fought sleep. She had to plan. She couldn’t last a whole day below decks, out of the sun and with the scurrying rats. She shined the lantern around her hideout. Pairs of red rat eyes flashed back. She wanted to throw something at them, but she couldn’t afford to waste any food.
Try as she might, no plan came to Samantha. But sleep did.
The crash of the anchor chains woke her again. The Cardinal was getting under way.
Chapter 23
The Cardinal heeled slightly as her sails filled. Barrels shifted. Samantha shined the lantern to make sure those barrels near her were lashed down tightly. Some timbers were stacked against one side of the ship. She tested the rope holding them. It was tight.
The gentle swish of the water against the Cardinal’s sides became a rush as the ship sliced through the water. We must be on the James River, Samantha calculated. She set the remaining cheese and bread on a barrel top and divided it into three equal portions: breakfast, dinner, and supper. Tonight, she and James would switch places.
After she had eaten, nature called. Samantha hadn’t considered how she would relieve herself on the ship or even how sailors attended to this necessary task. Certainly some of their waste had trickled into the stinking bilge water sloshing just below her. She decided to use the bucket from Matthew as a chamber pot. Then she emptied the bucket into the bilge wa
ter below. She stored the bucket behind a cask, then sat upon a barrel and waited for Matthew.
An eternity seemed to pass before she heard steps on the ladder. In the dim light, she watched Matthew climb down into the hold. Someone trailed behind him.
James!
Matthew hurried to her. James followed, his hand cupped over his mouth. He spun away and emptied his stomach.
“He’s seasick,” Matthew whispered.
“I can see that,” Samantha said. She hurried to help James, but he waved her away.
“Just hang my hammock and let me die,” he said.
“Help me,” Matthew said to Samantha. She turned from her brother.
“Shine the light around so we can find a place for his hammock.”
Samantha opened the lantern cover and aimed the thin beam around the hold.
“Over here,” Matthew told her.
She shined the light at the very stern of the ship.
“We can hang one end from this peg and the other end from this hook,” Matthew said. He unrolled the hammock. They each fastened an end. James moaned and climbed into it.
“You will have to be quiet,” Matthew said. “If we’re discovered, Captain Black can still turn back.”
“Let him,” James sighed.
Samantha grabbed his arm hard. “No,” she snapped. “We are following through with this, no matter what.”
James yanked his arm out of her grasp and rolled onto his stomach. He retched again.
“Leave him,” Matthew said. “We’ll both be missed before long. Only the cook comes down here now that we’re under way.”
Samantha shined the light on James’s heaving body and then turned away. There was nothing she could do for him until he got his sea legs. This was her chance to escape the hold. She felt sorry for James but …
The air on the main deck smelled as sweet as honey. She breathed in huge lungsful.
“You boys, there,” someone yelled. “Get to your stations before my starter finds your backsides!” He snapped a short rope with a large knot on the end.
