A low, sandy shore lay before us, topped with brush and some scattered groves of trees. These Outer Banks stretched along the coast for a great distance ... nearly two hundred miles, I had heard, but I suspected it was not quite so far.
We took shelter in a deeply notched bay of fair extent almost exactly opposite the tip of the mainland that extended down from the north into the smaller sound. The Bank was at that place scarcely more than a mile wide, and we had drawn our boats close in shore. We waded to the beach.
We made camp there.
For days we camped on the beach, keeping always a lookout on the farther shore, but we saw no ship. Yet it was a quiet time, enjoyed by all. With Abby I took long walks along the shore where one could see for miles. We searched the shore for whatever the tide might have washed up. Obviously, no Indian had been along for some time for we found a cask of good brandy, and the wreck of a lifeboat still containing a sail and a boat hook. We found several gold coins, the skeleton of a man, half buried in sand, many logs, ships timbers, and other debris. We found three boxes, close together on the sand, with water-soaked clothing, all of which we took back to our boat for ourselves or the Catawba.
Despite all this, for miles the beach was bare and empty.
We kept our fires low, used dry and relatively smokeless driftwood, and kept a sharp lookout at all times.
Each day brought an increase of doubt and worry. Despite the pleasure of camping, it was beginning to pall, and still no ship came.
Was our voyage downriver all for nothing? Should we wait longer? Or once more return to our fort?
Then on the twenty-fourth day, while we were gathering driftwood, I looked up and saw the ship.
She was not more than a mile offshore, and feeling her way south. I looked at her long through my glass, and Jeremy studied her as well.
"British," he said, after a bit, "let's give her a hail."
"We shall," I said, "and then do you, Pim, O'Hara, and Magill stay from sight.
Peter and Sakim can stay with the boats, and also keep out of sight. I'll meet them with Watkins and Glasco."
"If it is going aboard a ship there is," Abby said, "we shall go as well. I want Kin to see a ship, and all of us to have a bite of English food."
"All right," I agreed reluctantly, "come along."
Yet I took the time to charge two pistols and conceal them under my buckskin hunting shirt, and my knife as well. My sword and my musket were in plain sight.
The ship hove to, then dropped her hook and put a boat over the side. We waited, standing on the beach.
There were seven men in the boat. The man in command was a burly, smiling fellow with a cheerful face. "Well! Isn't this a pretty sight! English, I'll wager, and castaways."
"We've furs to trade," I said. "And we are here willingly, and do not wish to be picked up."
"Ah? Well, of course not. But the master asks that you come aboard ... be his guests. Have a meal, and then back to the shore you shall come." He glanced curiously up and down the empty beach. "Although why you'd like this better than old England, I can't guess."
He looked around. "Furs, you say? Well, the captain's the man for that. He'll trade. Come! Supper is waiting, and the captain ordered up the best when he saw you through his glass. 'Women,' the captain said, 'it's a bit of time since we've seen the whisk of a skirt, and two such lovely wenches-women-I've never seen!'"
We scrambled up the ladder and over the side, and as I came over, a hand reached out for my musket. I pulled it back, smiling. "I will keep that," I said.
"There's redskins ashore and there might be pirates as well."
A huge man, as large as two of me and fat, came down the deck. "Let it be, Joshua! Let it be! The man's a guest aboard here, and welcome to his arms if he wishes!"
He held out a huge hand. "Wilson here! Captain Oldfast Wilson, master of the Lion, out of Portsmouth! How do you do? Your name would be?"
"Barnes," I said, "and this is Mrs. Barnes. We are," I lied, "settlers on this shore. Is this one of Raleigh's ships?"
"It is not. It is my own ship." He glanced from me to Watkins and Glasco.
"Settlers, you say? I did not know there were any such, since Grenville's men were lost and the Raleigh settlers vanished from Roanoke."
"Our ship was a Flemish galleon-"
There was a movement behind me, and then a man stepped around to face me. It was Emmden.
"He lies! That is Sackett! Barnabas Sackett, and it is the Queen herself who wants him!"
"Of course, it is!" Wilson was smiling smugly. "I glimpsed you once in London, m'boy! Saw you fair! Even from the glass I was certain sure 'twas you. By all that's holy, this is a good day! A reward from the Queen herself, and-"
"Cap'n?" Joshua said. "He said he had furs to trade."
"Ah? Furs, is it? Well, a fair trade we'll have. Do you be telling us where the furs are now. You tell us, and you'll eat well and sleep well aboard this ship!
Otherwise, it's the blackest corner of the hold and a weight of chains for you, and certain drowning if we sink. What'll it be m'boy? Irons or the furs? Treat me right, and I'll do the same by you!"
"Well," I said reluctantly, "do I have your word on that? I have but six bales-"
"Six?" The greed shone in his eyes. "Why, of course! For six bales you have my word on it, and the best of quarters for you and your lady as well. Even for the wench yonder." He indicated Lila.
"There's no hope for it, Abby," I said, shrugging. Then I added, "There's a ship's boat across the island, and the bales on the shore hard by. If you send a boat, I'd be glad to show them-"
"Na, na, m'boy! I'd not be troublin' you." He pointed a finger at Black Tom Watkins. "We'll send that one. He'll know where they are, an' he'll lead us right to them. He will if he wants to live without fifty lashes a week until he dies.
"Do na think I'm a hard man, m'boy, but there's a world of deceit and evil about us, an' a man does have to protect himself, now doesn't he?"
He glared at Tom. "What's your name, man?"
"Watkins, and I'll gladly show you where the furs lie If you'll let me become one of your crew or drop me in the nearest port. I've had my fill o' that," he jerked his head toward the shore. "Savages by night an' no drop of ale by day.
I'll show you, certain sure I will!"
"Joshua," Wilson turned on us, "do you take them below. Keep them together for the non, and if there's no furs, well, we'll have a bit of their hide. Hers, too." His eyes glinted. "No doot 'tis a pretty hide, but will show the better for some blood on it. Do you take them below."
They had taken my musket and a hand had jerked away my sword, but there was no further search and I'd the knife handy and two pistols.
Pistols were not that common thing about and I doubt they gave it a thought, with me so obviously armed with musket and sword. Put us all together, they did, and in a small cabin near the main one, and we stood crowded there, scarce room to turn about.
"What now?" Lila said. " 'Tis a brave man I know you are, but what is one against all, and only Glasco aboard to help."
"And what of Tom?" Abby asked, holding Kin close. "Is it true that he's turned upon us?"
"Of course, the blackg'rd has!" I spoke loudly, and then, ever so softly, "I'd trust him with my life!"
"You have," Lila said. "Be sure of that!"
"Aye," I said, "and I'm trusting another man as well, a wise and a shrewd one, that Jeremy Ring!"
Chapter 27
Two pistols I had, but that meant but two shots, and then it was the knife until death.
Where had they put my sword and musket? In the main cabin, I was sure. That sword had been my father's, and I wanted it back again. Yet now I would have accepted any sword, any weapon.
Looking quickly around the small cabin, I saw nothing. Yet they had put us hastily there, not thinking, and there might be something about. Leaning toward Lila, I urged her to look.
Softly, she began, feeling the man's bunk, searching the
drawers of his small cabinet. A compass, a Bible, a small, much-worn booklet on navigation, a sewing kit... nothing more.
"Lila," I said, "the pillow."
She looked. Pillows were a not often thing aboard ship, but this man loved his comfort, slight as it was, and he had a pillow, a soft, downy pillow with a faint, fishy smell. Gull feathers, no doubt, and made by himself.
She looked under it, but I shook my head and made a move to indicate holding it over her face. Lila got the idea at once and took up the pillow, placing it on the small stand near her.
Jeremy Ring was a quick-thinking and shrewd young man, and I was guessing he would at once surmise something wrong when he saw the boat returning without us.
Truly, my life and those of my family and Lila were in his hands. His, and those of Tom Watkins.
Yet I had no wish to trust to any man when so much was at stake, and there was every chance we might ourselves do something. I liked not the look of the man Oldfast Wilson.
Well, I'd two shots. If the worst came for it, he would get the first one. If we could get a guard to open the door, and I could distract his attention, then Lila and her pillow might well do the rest.
If a man or woman is inclined to murder or violence, owning a gun is not important. There are always a dozen things about with which a man can be killed.
For myself, I'd no wish for any of it. I'd been controlling my temper better these days, with hopes I might someday conquer it altogether. For I'd always been inclined to go into fierce although not unreasoning rage. It was a serious fault, and I'd worked hard at controlling myself, for giving away to anger is a weakness in a man.
We heard no sound except those made by the ship herself, and occasional movements above deck. Abby clutched my hand. "Barney," she whispered, "what will happen?"
"Trust to Jeremy," I suggested. "If there's a fight we've some likely lads ashore there, and if they fail, then we've to do something ourselves."
Waiting was a hard thing. Abby put little Kin down on the bunk, and he seemed happy enough, unaware of what was taking place.
A long time passed, and then we heard steps upon the deck outside, and the door was opened. It was Joshua, and he held a pistol in his hand. "Cap'n Wilson wants to know how far they had to go? They've been a long time aboot it."
"Well," I edged to the side of the door away from Lila, "they'd to cross the bank, y' know. 'Tis maybe a mile, but walking in deep sand is slow. Going and coming, that's two mile. They'd to unload the furs from the boat and carry them across. Six bales, and each bale a load for two men, I'd say."
Deliberately I put my shoulder against the door so he had to turn to face me and turn his shoulder to Lila. The pistol was aimed right at me, and at such range he could not miss. Lila was hesitating, and I said, suddenly, "Whatever they do, they'd best do it!"
I snapped the last words and slapped the pistol barrel with my right hand just as Lila clapped the pillow over his face. Yet all did not go as I hoped.
Slapping the pistol barrel, my hand did not make firm contact, knocking it only slightly aside. And as Lila clapped the pillow over Joshua's face she jerked him back, off balance. The gun blasted and something stung my cheek and brow, and then Lila was holding Joshua tight and I had wrested the gun from him.
There was a pounding of feet on the deck as someone came running, but I stepped over Joshua. Abby caught Kin up and followed, and we made for the deck. Lila dropped Joshua, now unconscious or dead, but she did not neglect to strip him of the now empty pistol and his cutlass, and well I recalled that with a cutlass she was not one with whom to trifle.
Abby turned swiftly toward the door of the main cabin at the end of the passage and opened it. I was facing the opposite way, toward the deck. A man lunged into the opening, a bare blade in hand, and thrust hard at me.
The door was narrow, and as he thrust, I fired. The bullet took him in the chest and smashed him to a dead stop. Then his eyes seemed to glaze over and he fell toward me. I thrust the empty pistol in my belt and caught up the cutlass and went through the door to the deck.
Facing me were a dozen men, and not one of them was Wilson. I'd the cutlass and one shot. Lola came up beside me, with her own cutlass.
"Drop it!" He was a burly, black-bearded fellow with a bend in his nose. "You'll get nowhere with this!"
There are times to fight and times to talk. The two of us might account for three or four of them before they had us, but behind us were Abby and Kin.
"Joshua," I said, "is dead. By this time your crew are dead or prisoners. I've two dozen men ashore there, and more than a hundred Indians. Put a boat in the water, and we'll go. Try to keep us and we'll leave you for the Indians."
"Captain?" The big black-bearded man called out. "Captain Wilson?"
He was looking over my shoulder. Fear went over me like a dash of icy water on a wild night at sea. Wilson had been behind us, in the main cabin!
I stood fast, but I was frightened. Abby was back there, Abby and Kin. They were behind me, and Wilson behind them, yet if I turned to look, we all were lost.
"There's no use to call him," I said. "Get the boat in the water if you wish to live, and-" I added-"if any of you wish to cross the blades with Lila, be advised she's stronger than any two of you, and better with her blade than any four-"
"Five," Lila said coolly. "I've marked that many for my own. Do you take the rest."
It is not good for a man to think too long if he must act, and too many ideas had been thrown at them, each causing doubt and hesitation.
Joshua dead ... where was Captain Wilson? Indians ashore, the boat crew possibly captured or dead, two blades and a pistol facing them-and at such range where at least one man must die before blades could be crossed.
They hesitated, and in so doing lost their advantage.
Quickly I stepped forward, Lila beside me, and they backed up, warily. There was no command, each waited for the other to act, and still no word from the cabin behind us.
Torn with fear, I dared not look around or lose my slight advantage. What was happening ashore I knew not, nor where stood Abby with my child.
Suddenly there was a shout and a crash behind me, a boat bumped the ship's side, and the men before me, half started forward at the shout from the cabin, half turned toward the ship's side.
Holding my fire, I thrust quickly at the nearest man. He tried to parry the blow, but his reaction time was too slow although he partly parried it. The point of my blade, and a good six inches of it, went into his thigh. Withdrawing quickly, I cut sidewise at a second man, who leaped back and tripped over a third.
Suddenly men were swarming over the side, and the first over, sword in hand, was Jeremy Ring. None of the ship's crew were armed with pistols, as was natural, and all of my men were.
There was a scream behind me and, wheeling, I leaped into the passage and in two steps was at the door of the main cabin. It stood open and beyond the table stood Abby, holding Kin. Her face was very white, her eyes wide and cool, and she was facing Oldfast Wilson.
His face glistened with sweat, his shirt was wet, and there was a smell of brandy in the room.
"I'll kill you, you-!"
My pistol I had thrust into my waistband, and my point was low. I was deceived by the man's huge size, and never suspected the quickness with which he moved.
He turned like a cat and struck out hard with the telescope he clutched in his hand.
The blow caught me across the knuckles and my cutlass went to the floor. He leaped at me, and my reaction was the instinctive one of a man with a knowledge of fisticuffs. I struck, left and right, into his face.
Blood splattered, but the next minute he had me wrapped in those huge arms.
"Now!" he gasped, "I break your back!"
His strength was enormous. He had seemed huge and fat. He was all of that, but he was also a man of unbelievable strength. His huge arms wrapped around me and he began to crush. Desperately, I hooked short, smashing blows at his face,
and every blow crushed and split the skin, but oblivious to my blows he tightened his grasp. I felt a streak of agony go through me. I struggled, fought to break his hold and could not. I felt my breath going. He was leaning his huge weight on me now. His mouth was wide and gasping. Blood trickled from lips broken by my punches.
I thrust a thumb into his cheek and dug my fingers into the flesh below his ear and behind his jaw. With all my strength, I ripped at his cheek. Something broke and began to tear and he screamed. With a tremendous heave I threw him from me and struck hard with my right hand, and the blow caught him on his upraised chin.
His head went back but, mad with fear, I smashed again and again at his face and body. Hitting his enormous body was useless. I might as well have pounded a huge leather sack filled with wheat. So I struck again and again at his face and he fell back and I staggered, catching myself on the doorjamb.
Somebody caught my arm and I jerked free, turning to see Jeremy Ring.
"All is well," he said. "We have the ship."
Chapter 28
"Sail, ho!"
The call came from the deck, and as one person, we left the smashed and bloody cabin and went to the deck. A fine tall ship was bearing down upon us, flying the flag of Britain. I swore softly, bitterly. I had never thought, as a lad, to look on that flag with anything but respect and affection.
"Stand by," I said. "I do not mean to be taken."
They were lowering a boat, and in a few minutes it was nearing our side. Six men were pulling at the oars. A stalwart, square-shouldered man sat at the tiller.
As they came alongside, he asked, "Is it all right to come aboard?"
"It is," I said.
My men were walking about, picking up dropped weapons. There was a splash of blood here and there and the crew of the ship or what remained aboard had been herded into the waist, where O'Hara and Magill stood guard over them.
As the officer came over the side, I said, "We've had a bit of trouble here, gentlemen, but it is all over now. What can I do for you?'
"We need water," he said, "and seeing you hove to, we thought you might know where it could be had, or might be watering yourself."
to the Far Blue Mountains (1976) Page 23
