Salute to Adventurers

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER VIII.

  RED RINGAN.

  Once at Edinburgh College I had read the Latin tale of Apuleius, andthe beginning stuck in my memory: "_Thraciam ex negotio petebam_"--"Iwas starting off for Thrace on business." That was my case now. I wasabout to plunge into a wild world for no more startling causes thanthat I was a trader who wanted to save my pocket. It is to those whoseek only peace and a quiet life that adventures fall; the homelymerchant, jogging with his pack train, finds the enchanted forest andthe sleeping princess; and Saul, busily searching for his father'sasses, stumbles upon a kingdom.

  "What seek ye with Ringan?" Mercer asked, when we had sat down insidewith locked doors.

  "The man's name is Ninian Campbell," I said, somewhat puzzled.

  "Well, it's the same thing. What did they teach you at Lesmahagow if yedon't know that Ringan is the Scots for Ninian? Lord bless me, laddie,don't tell me ye've never heard of Red Ringan?"

  To be sure I had; I had heard of little else for a twelvemonth. Inevery tavern in Virginia, when men talked of the Free Companions, itwas the name of Red Ringan that came first to their tongues. I had beentoo occupied by my own affairs to listen just then to fireside tales,but I could not help hearing of this man's exploits. He was a kind ofleader of the buccaneers, and by all accounts no miscreant like Cosh,but a mirthful fellow, striking hard when need be, but at other timesmerciful and jovial. Now I set little store by your pirate heroes. Theyare for lads and silly girls and sots in an ale-house, and a merchantcan have no kindness for those who are the foes of his trade. So when Iheard that the man I sought was this notorious buccaneer I showed myalarm by dropping my jaw.

  Mercer laughed. "I'll not conceal from you that you take a certain riskin going to Ringan. Ye need not tell me your business, but it should bea grave one to take you down to the Carolina keys. There's time to drawback, if ye want; but you've brought me the master word, and I'm boundto set you on the road. Just one word to ye, Mr. Garvald. Keep a stoutface whatever you see, for Ringan has a weakness for a bold man. Behere the morn at sunrise, and if ye're wise bring no weapon. I'll seeto the boat and the provisioning."

  I was at the water-side next day at cock-crow, while the mist was stilllow on the river. Mercer was busy putting food and a keg of water intoa light sloop, and a tall Indian was aboard redding out the sails. Mytravels had given me some knowledge of the red tribes, and I spoke alittle of their language, but this man was of a type not often seen inthe Virginian lowlands. He was very tall, with a skin clear andpolished like bronze, and, unlike the ordinary savage, his breast wasunmarked, and his hair unadorned. He was naked to the waist, and belowwore long leather breeches, dyed red, and fringed with squirrels'tails. In his wampum belt were stuck a brace of knives and a tomahawk.It seemed he knew me, for as I approached he stood up to his fullheight and put his hands on his forehead. "Brother," he said, and hisgrave eyes looked steadily into mine.

  Then I remembered. Some months before I had been riding back the roadfrom Green Springs, and in a dark, woody place had come across anIndian sore beset by three of the white scum which infested theriver-side. What the quarrel was I know not, but I liked little thevillainous look of the three, and I liked much the clean, lithe figureof their opponent. So I rode my horse among them, and laid on to themwith the butt of my whip. They had their knives out, but I managed todisarm the one who attacked me, and my horse upset a second, while theIndian, who had no weapon but a stave, cracked the head of the last. Igot nothing worse than a black eye, but the man I had rescued bled fromsome ugly cuts which I had much ado stanching. He shook hands with megravely when I had done, and vanished into the thicket. He was a SenecaIndian, and I wondered what one of that house was doing in theTidewater.

  Mercer told me his name. "Shalah will take you to the man you ken. Dowhatever he tells you, Mr. Garvald, for this is a job in which you'renothing but a bairn." We pushed off, the Indian taking the oars, and infive minutes James Town was lost in the haze.

  On the Surrey shore we picked up a breeze, and with the ebbing tidemade good speed down the estuary. Shalah the Indian had the tiller, andI sat luxuriously in the bows, smoking my cob pipe, and wondering whatthe next week held in store for me. The night before I had had qualmsabout the whole business, but the air of morning has a trick of firingmy blood, and I believe I had forgotten the errand which was taking meto the Carolina shores. It was enough that I was going into a new landand new company. Last night I had thought with disfavour of Red Ringanthe buccaneer; that morning I thought only of Ninian Campbell, withwhom I had forgathered on a Glasgow landing.

  My own thoughts kept me silent, and the Indian never opened his mouth.Like a statue he crouched by the tiller, with his sombre eyes lookingto the sea. That night, when we had rounded Cape Henry in fine weather,we ran the sloop into a little bay below a headland, and made camp forthe night beside a stream of cold water. Next morning it blew hard fromthe north, and in a driving rain we crept down the Carolina coast. Oneincident of the day I remember. I took in a reef or two, and adjustedthe sheets, for this was a game I knew and loved. The Indian watched meclosely, and made a sign to me to take the helm. He had guessed that Iknew more than himself about the handling of a boat in wind, and sincewe were in an open sea, where his guidance was not needed, he preferredto trust the thing to me. I liked the trait in him, for I take it to bea mark of a wise man that he knows what he can do, and is not ashamedto admit what he cannot.

  That evening we had a cold bed; but the storm blew out in the night,and the next day the sun was as hot as summer, and the wind a point tothe east. Shalah once again was steersman, for we were inside some veryugly reefs, which I took to be the beginning of the Carolina keys. Onshore forests straggled down to the sea, so that sometimes they almosthad their feet in the surf; but now and then would come an open, grassyspace running far inland. These were, the great savannahs where herdsof wild cattle and deer roamed, and where the Free Companions came tofill their larders. It was a wilder land than the Tidewater, for onlyonce did we see a human dwelling. Far remote on the savannahs I couldpick out twirls of smoke rising into the blue weather, the signs ofIndian hunting fires. Shalah began now to look for landmarks, and totake bearings of a sort. Among the maze of creeks and shallow bayswhich opened on the land side it needed an Indian to pick out a track.

  The sun had all but set when, with a grunt of satisfaction, he swunground the tiller and headed shorewards. Before me in the twilight I sawonly a wooded bluff which, as we approached, divided itself into two.Presently a channel appeared, a narrow thing about as broad as acable's length, into which the wind carried us. Here it was very dark,the high sides with their gloomy trees showing at the top a thin lineof reddening sky. Shalah hugged the starboard shore, and as the screenof the forest caught the wind it weakened and weakened till it diedaway, and we moved only with the ingoing tide. I had never been in soeery a place. It was full of the sharp smell of pine trees, and as Isniffed the air I caught the savour of wood smoke. Men were somewhereahead of us in the gloom.

  Shalah ran the sloop into a little creek so overgrown with vines thatwe had to lie flat on the thwarts to enter. Then, putting his mouth tomy ear, he spoke for the first time since we had left James Town. "Itis hard to approach the Master, and my brother must follow me close asthe panther follows the deer. Where Shalah puts his foot let my brotherput his also. Come."

  He stepped from the boat to the hill-side, and with incredible speedand stillness began to ascend. His long, soft strides were made withoutnoise or effort, whether the ground were moss, or a tangle of vines, orloose stones, or the trunks of fallen trees, I had prided myself on myhill-craft, but beside the Indian I was a blundering child, I mighthave made shift to travel as fast, but it was the silence of hisprogress that staggered me, I plunged, and slipped, and sprawled, andmy heart was bursting before the ascent ceased, and we stole to theleft along the hill shoulder.

  Presently came a gap in the trees, and I looked down in the lastgreyness of dusk on a strange and be
autiful sight. The channel led to alandlocked pool, maybe a mile around, and this was as full of shippingas a town's harbour. The water was but a pit of darkness, but I couldmake out the masts rising into the half light, and I counted more thantwenty vessels in that port. No light was shown, and the whole placewas quiet as a grave.

  We entered a wood of small hemlocks, and I felt rather than saw theground slope in front of us. About two hundred feet above the water theglen of a little stream shaped itself into a flat cup, which wasinvisible from below, and girdled on three sides by dark forest. Herewe walked more freely, till we came to the lip of the cup, and there,not twenty paces below me, I saw a wonderful sight. The hollow was litwith the glow of a dozen fires, round which men clustered. Some werebusy boucanning meat for ship's food, some were cooking supper, somesprawled in idleness, and smoked or diced. The night had now grown veryblack around us, and we were well protected, for the men in the glowhad their eyes dazed, and could not spy into the darkness. We came veryclose above them, so that I could hear their talk. The smell ofroasting meat pricked my hunger, and I realized that the salt air hadgiven me a noble thirst. They were common seamen from the piratevessels, and, as far as I could judge, they had no officer among them.I remarked their fierce, dark faces, and the long knives with whichthey slashed and trimmed the flesh for their boucanning.

  Shalah touched my hand, and I followed him into the wood. We climbedagain, and from the tinkle of the stream on my left I judged that wewere ascending to a higher shelf in the glen. The Indian moved verycarefully, as noiseless as the flight of an owl, and I marvelled at thegift. In after days I was to become something of a woodsman, and trackas swiftly and silently as any man of my upbringing. But I nevermastered the Indian art by which the foot descending in the darkness onsomething that will crackle checks before the noise is made. I could doit by day, when I could see what was on the ground, but in the dark thething was beyond me. It is an instinct like a wild thing's, andpossible only to those who have gone all their days light-shod in theforest.

  Suddenly the slope and the trees ceased, and a new glare burst on oureyes. This second shelf was smaller than the first, and as I blinked atthe light I saw that it held about a score of men. Torches made of pineboughs dipped in tar blazed at the four corners of the assembly, and inthe middle on a boulder a man was sitting. He was speaking loudly, andwith passion, but I could not make him out. Once more Shalah put hismouth to my ear, with a swift motion like a snake, and whispered, "TheMaster."

  We crawled flat on our bellies round the edge of the cup. The trees hadgone, and the only cover was the long grass and the low sumach bushes.We moved a foot at a time, and once the Indian turned in his tracks andcrawled to the left almost into the open. My sense of smell, as sharpalmost as a dog's, told me that horses were picketed in the grass infront of us. Our road took us within, hearing of the speaker, andthough I dared not raise my head, I could hear the soft Highland voiceof my friend. He seemed now to be speaking humorously, for a laugh camefrom the hearers.

  Once at the crossing of a little brook, I pulled a stone into thewater, and we instantly lay as still as death. But men preoccupied withtheir own concerns do not keep anxious watch, and our precautions wereneedless. Presently we had come to the far side of the shelf abreast ofthe boulder on which he sat who seemed to be the chief figure. Now Icould raise my head, and what I saw made my eyes dazzle.

  Red Ringan sat on a stone with a naked cutlass across his knees. Infront stood a man, the most evil-looking figure that I had ever beheld.He was short but very sturdily built, and wore a fine laced coat notmade for him, which hung to his knees, and was stretched tight at thearmpits. He had a heavy pale face, without hair on it. His teeth hadgone, all but two buck-teeth which stuck out at each corner of hismouth, giving him the look of a tusker. I could see his lips movinguneasily in the glare of the pine boughs, and his eyes darted about thecompany as if seeking countenance.

  Ringan was speaking very gravely, with his eyes shining like swordpoints. The others were every make and manner of fellow, fromwell-shaped and well-clad gentlemen to loutish seamen in leatherjerkins. Some of the faces were stained dark with passion and crime,some had the air of wild boys, and some the hard sobriety of traders.But one and all were held by the dancing eyes of the man that spoke.

  "What is the judgment," he was saying, "of the Free Companions? By theold custom of the Western Seas I call upon you, gentlemen all, for yourdecision."

  Then I gathered that the evil-faced fellow had offended against someone of their lawless laws, and was on his trial.

  No one spoke for a moment, and then one grizzled seaman raised hishand, "The dice must judge," he said. "He must throw for his lifeagainst the six."

  Another exclaimed against this. "Old wives' folly," he cried, with anoath. "Let Cosh go his ways, and swear to amend them. The Brethren ofthe Coast cannot be too nice in these little matters. We are not pursyjustices or mooning girls."

  But he had no support. The verdict was for the dice, and a seamanbrought Ringan a little ivory box, which he held out to the prisoner.The latter took it with shaking hand, as if he did not know how to useit.

  "You will cast thrice," said Ringan. "Two even throws, and you arefree."

  The man fumbled a little and then cast. It fell a four.

  A second time he threw, and the dice lay five.

  In that wild place, in the black heart of night, the terror of thething fell on my soul. The savage faces, the deadly purpose in Ringan'seyes, the fumbling miscreant before him, were all heavy with horror. Ihad no doubt that Cosh was worthy of death, but this cold and mercilesstreatment froze my reason. I watched with starting eyes the last throw,and I could not hear Ringan declare it. But I saw by the look on Cosh'sface what it had been.

  "It is your privilege to choose your manner of death and to name yoursuccessor," I heard Ringan say.

  But Cosh did not need the invitation. Now that his case was desperate,the courage in him revived. He was fully armed, and in a second he haddrawn a knife and leaped for Ringan's throat.

  Perhaps he expected it, perhaps he had learned the art of the wildbeast so that his body was answerable to his swiftest wish. I do notknow, but I saw Cosh's knife crash on the stone and splinter, whileRingan stood by his side.

  "You have answered my question," he said quietly. "Draw your cutlass,man. You have maybe one chance in ten thousand for your life."

  I shut my eyes as I heard the steel clash. Then very soon came silence.I looked again, and saw Ringan wiping his blade on a bunch of grass,and a body lying before him.

  He was speaking--speaking, I suppose, about the successor to the deadman, whom two negroes had promptly removed. Suddenly at my shoulderShalah gave the hoot of an owl, followed at a second's interval by asecond and a third. I suppose it was some signal agreed with Ringan,but at the time I thought the man had gone mad.

  I was not very sane myself. What I had seen had sent a cold gruethrough me, for I had never before seen a man die violently, and thecircumstances of the place and hour made the thing a thousandfold moreawful. I had a black fright on me at that whole company of mercilessmen, and especially at Ringan, whose word was law to them. Now theworst effect of fear is that it obscures good judgment, and makes a manin desperation do deeds of a foolhardiness from which at other times hewould shrink. All I remembered in that moment was that I had to reachRingan, and that Mercer had told me that the safest plan was to show abold front. I never remembered that I had also been bidden to followShalah, nor did I reflect that a secret conclave of pirates was nooccasion to choose for my meeting. With a sudden impulse I forcedmyself to my feet, and stalked, or rather shambled, into the light.

  "Ninian," I cried, "Ninian Campbell! I'm here to claim your promise."

  The whole company turned on me, and I was gripped by a dozen hands andflung on the ground. Ringan came forward to look, but there was norecognition in his eyes. Some one cried out, "A spy!" and there was afierce murmur of voices, which were meaningless to me, fo
r fear had gotme again, and I had neither ears nor voice. Dimly it seemed that hegave some order, and I was trussed up with ropes. Then I was consciousof being carried out of the glare of torches into the cool darkness.Presently I was laid in some kind of log-house, carpeted with firboughs, for the needles tickled my face.

  Bit by bit my senses came back to me, and I caught hold of my vagrantcourage.

  A big negro in seaman's clothes with a scarlet sash round his middlewas squatted on the floor watching me by the light of a ship's lantern.He had a friendly, foolish face, and I remember yet how he rolled hiseyeballs.

  "I won't run away," I said, "so you might slacken these ropes and letme breathe easy."

  Apparently he was an accommodating gaoler, for he did as I wished.

  "And give me a drink," I said, "for my tongue's like a stick."

  He mixed me a pannikin of rum and water. Perhaps he hocussed it, ormaybe 'twas only the effect of spirits on a weary body; but threeminutes after I had drunk I was in a heavy sleep.