by John Buchan
CHAPTER XI.
GRAVITY OUT OF BED.
A week later I had a visit from old Mercer. He came to my house in theevening just after the closing of the store. First of all, he paid outto me the gold I had lost from my ship at Accomac, with all the gravityin the world, as if it had been an ordinary merchant's bargain. Then heproduced some papers, and putting on big horn spectacles, proceeded toinstruct me in them. They were lists, fuller than those I had alreadygot, of men up and down the country whom Lawrence trusted. Some I hadmet, many I knew of, but two or three gave me a start. There was aplanter in Henricus who had treated me like dirt, and some names fromEssex county that I did not expect. Especially there were several inJames Town itself--one a lawyer body I had thought the obedient serf ofthe London merchants, one the schoolmaster, and another a drunkenskipper of a river boat. But what struck me most was the name ofColonel Beverley.
"Are you sure of all these?" I asked.
"Sure as death," he said. "I'm not saying that they're all friends ofyours, Mr. Garvald. Ye've trampled on a good wheen toes since you cameto these parts. But they're all men to ride the ford with, if thatshould come which we ken of."
Some of the men on the list were poor settlers, and it was our businessto equip them with horse and gun. That was to be my special duty--thatand the establishing of means by which they could be summoned quickly.With the first Mercer could help me, for he had his hand on all thelines of the smuggling business, and there were a dozen ports on thecoast where he could land arms. Horses were an easy matter, requiringonly the doling out of money. But the summoning business was to be myparticular care. I could go about the country in my ordinary way oftrade without exciting suspicion, and my house was to be the rendezvousof every man on the list who wanted news or guidance.
"Can ye trust your men?" Mercer asked, and I replied that Faulkner wasas staunch as cold steel, and that he had picked the others.
"Well, let's see your accommodation," and the old fellow hopped to hisfeet, and was out of doors before I could get the lantern.
Mercer on a matter of this sort was a different being from the decayedlandlord of the water-side tavern. His spectacled eyes peeredeverywhere, and his shrewd sense judged instantly of a thing's value.He approved of the tobacco-shed as a store for arms, for he could reachit from the river by a little-used road through the woods. It was easyso to arrange, the contents that a passing visitor could guess nothing,and no one ever penetrated to its recesses but Faulkner and myself. Isummoned Faulkner to the conference, and told him his duties, which, heundertook with sober interest. He was a dry stick from Fife, who spokeseldom and wrought mightily.
Faulkner attended to Mercer's consignments, and I took once more to theroad. I had to arrange that arms from the coast or the river-sidescould be sent inland, and for this purpose I had a regiment of packhorses that delivered my own stores as well. I had to visit all the menon the list whom I did not know, and a weary job it was. I repeatedagain my toil of the first year, and in the hot Virginian summer rodethe length and breadth of the land. My own business prospered hugely,and I bought on credit such a stock of tobacco as made me write myuncle for a fourth ship at the harvest sailing. It seemed a strangething, I remember, to be bargaining for stuff which might never bedelivered, for by the autumn the dominion might be at death grips.
In those weeks I discovered what kind of force Lawrence leaned on. Hewho only knew James Town and the rich planters knew little of the trueVirginia. There were old men who had long memories of Indian fights,and men in their prime who had risen with Bacon, and young men who hadtheir eyes turned to the unknown West. There were new-comers fromScotland and North Ireland, and a stout band of French Protestants,most of them gently born, who had sought freedom for their faith beyondthe sway of King Louis. You cannot picture a hardier or more spiritedrace than the fellows I thus recruited. The forest settler who swung anaxe all day for his livelihood could have felled the ordinary finegentleman with one blow of his fist. And they could shoot too, withtheir rusty matchlocks or clumsy snaphances. In some few the motive wasfear, for they had seen or heard of the tender mercies of the savages.But in most, I think, it was a love of bold adventure, and especiallythe craving to push the white man's province beyond the narrow bordersof the Tidewater. If you say that this was something more than defence,I claim that the only way to protect a country is to make sure of itsenvirons. What hope is there of peace if your frontier is the rim of anunknown forest?
My hardest task was to establish some method of sending news to theoutland dwellers. For this purpose I had to consort with queer folk.Shalah, who had become my second shadow, found here and there littleIndian camps, from which he chose young men as messengers. In one placeI would get a settler with a canoe, in another a woodman with a fasthorse; and in a third some lad who prided himself on his legs. The rarecountry taverns were a help, for most of their owners were in thesecret. The Tidewater is a flat forest region, so we could not lightbeacons as in a hilly land. But by the aid of Shalah's woodcraft Iconcocted a set of marks on trees and dwellings which would speak alanguage to any initiate traveller. The Indians, too, had their ownsilent tongue, by which they could send messages over many leagues in ashort space. I never learned the trick of it, though I tried hard withShalah as interpreter; for that you must have been suckled in a wigwam.
When I got back to James Town, Faulkner would report on his visitors,and he seems to have had many. Rough fellows would ride up at thedarkening, bringing a line from Mercer, or more often an agreedpassword, and he had to satisfy their wants and remember their news. Sofar I had had no word from Lawrence, though Mercer reported that Ringanwas still sending arms. That tobacco-shed of mine would have made abrave explosion if some one had kindled it, and, indeed, the thing morethan once was near happening through a negro's foolishness. I spent allmy evenings, when at home, in making a map of the country. I had got arough chart from the Surveyor-General, and filled up such parts as Iknew, and over all I spread a network of lines which meant my ways ofsending news. For instance, to get to a man in Essex county, the wordwould be passed by Middle Plantation to York Ferry. Thence in anIndian's canoe it would be carried to Aird's store on the Mattaponey,from which a woodman would take it across the swamps to a clump ofhemlocks. There he would make certain marks, and a long-legged lad fromthe Rappahannock, riding by daily to school, would carry the tidings tothe man I wanted. And so forth over the habitable dominion. Icalculated that there were not more than a dozen of Lawrence's men whowithin three days could not get the summons and within five be at theproper rendezvous.
One evening I was surprised by a visit from Colonel Beverley. He cameopenly on a fine bay horse with two mounted negroes as attendants. Ihad parted from him dryly, and had been surprised to find that he wasone of us; but when I had talked with him a little, it appeared that hehad had a big share in planning the whole business. We mentioned nonames, but I gathered that he knew Lawrence, and was at least aware ofRingan. He warned me, I remember, to be on my guard against some of theyoung bloods, who might visit me to make mischief. "It's not that theyknow anything of our affairs," he said, "but that they have got aprejudice against yourself, Mr. Garvald. They are foolish, hot-headedlads, very puffed up by their pride of gentrice, and I do not like thenotion of their playing pranks in that tobacco-shed."
I asked him a question which had long puzzled me, why the naturaldefence of a country should be kept so secret. "The Governor, at anyrate," I said, "would approve, and we are not asking the burgesses fora single guinea."
"Yes, but the Governor would play a wild hand," was the answer. "Hewould never permit the thing to go on quietly, but would want to rideat the head of the men, and the whole fat would be in the fire. Youmust know. Mr. Garvald, that politics run high in our Virginia. Thereare scores of men who would see in our enterprise a second attempt likeBacon's, and, though they might approve of our aims, would never hearof one of Bacon's folk serving with us. I was never a Bacon's man, forI was with Berkeley in Acco
mac and at the taking of James Town, but Iknow the quality of the rough fellows that Bacon led, and I want themall for this adventure. Besides, who can deny that there is more in ourplans than a defence against Indians? There are many who feel with methat Virginia can never grow to the fullness of a nation so long as sheis cooped up in the Tidewater. New-comers arrive by every ship fromEngland, and press on into the wilderness. But there can be no conquestof the wilderness till we have broken the Indian menace, and pushed ourfrontier up to the hills--ay, and beyond them. But tell that to theordinary planter, and he will assign you to the devil. He fears thesenew-comers, who are simple fellows that do not respect his grandeur. Hefears that some day they may control the assembly by their votes. Hewants the Tidewater to be his castle, with porters and guards to houndaway strangers. Man alive, if you had tried to put reason into some oftheir heads, you would despair of human nature. Let them get a hint ofour preparations, and there will be petitions to Council and a howlingabout treason, and in a week you will be in gaol, Mr. Garvald. So wemust move cannily, as you Scots say."
That conversation made me wary, and I got Faulkner to keep a specialguard on the place when I was absent. At the worst, he could summonMercer, who would bring a rough crew from the water-side to his aid.Then once more I disappeared into the woods.
In these days a new Shalah revealed himself. I think he had beenwatching me closely for the past months, and slowly I had won hisapproval. He showed it by beginning to talk as he loped by my side inour forest wanderings. The man was like no Indian I have ever seen. Hewas a Senecan, and so should have been on the side of the Long House;but it was plain that he was an outcast from his tribe, and, indeed,from the whole Indian brotherhood. I could not fathom him, for heseemed among savages to be held in deep respect, and yet here he was,the ally of the white man against his race. His lean, supple figure,his passionless face, and his high, masterful air had a singularnobility in them. To me he was never the servant, scarcely even thecompanion, for he seemed like a being from another world, who had aknowledge of things hid from human ken. In woodcraft he was a masterbeyond all thought of rivalry. Often, when time did not press, he wouldlead me, clumsy as I was, so that I could almost touch the muzzle of acrouching deer, or lay a hand on a yellow panther, before it slippedlike a live streak of light into the gloom. He was an eery fellow, too.Once I found him on a high river bank at sunset watching the red glowbehind the blue shadowy forest.
"There is blood in the West," he said, pointing like a prophet with hislong arm, "There is blood in the hills which is flowing to the waters.At the Moon of Stags it will flow, and by the Moon of Wildfowl it willhave stained the sea."
He had always the hills at the back of his head. Once, when we caught aglimpse of them from a place far up the James River, he stood like astatue gazing at the thin line which hung like a cloud in the west. Iam upland bred, and to me, too, the sight was a comfort as I stoodbeside him.
"The _Manitou_ in the hills is calling," he said abruptly. "I wait alittle, but not long. You too will follow, brother, to where the hawkswheel and the streams fall in vapour. There we shall find death orlove, I know not which, but it will be a great finding. The gods havewritten it on my heart."
Then he turned and strode away, and I did not dare to question him.There was that about him which stirred my prosaic soul into a wildpoetry, till for the moment I saw with his eyes, and heard strangevoices in the trees.
Apart from these uncanny moods he was the most faithful helper in mytask. Without him I must have been a mere child. I could not read thelore of the forest; I could not have found my way as he found itthrough pathless places. From him, too, I learned that we were not tomake our preparations unwatched.
Once, as we were coming from the Rappahannock to the York, he dartedsuddenly into the undergrowth below the chestnuts. My eye could see noclue on the path, and, suspecting nothing, I waited on him to return.Presently he came, and beckoned me to follow. Thirty yards into thecoppice we found a man lying dead, with a sharp stake holding him tothe ground, and a raw, red mass where had been once his head.
"That was your messenger, brother," he whispered, "the one who was tocarry word from the Mattaponey to the north. See, he has been dead fortwo suns."
He was one of the tame Algonquins who dwelt by Aird's store.
"Who did it?" I asked, with a very sick stomach.
"A Cherokee. Some cunning one, and he left a sign to guide us."
He showed me a fir-cone he had picked up from the path, with the sharpend cut short and a thorn stuck in the middle.
The thing disquieted me horribly, for we had heard no word yet of anymovement from the West. And yet it seemed that our enemy's scouts hadcome far down into the Tidewater, and knew enough to single out fordeath a man we had enrolled for service. Shalah slipped off without aword, and I was left to continue my journey alone. I will not pretendthat I liked the business. I saw an Indian in every patch of shadow,and looked pretty often to my pistols before I reached the security ofAird's house.
Four days later Shalah appeared at James Town. "They were three," hesaid simply. "They came from the hills a moon ago, and have been makingbad trouble on the Rappahannock. I found them at the place above thebeaver traps of the Ooniche. They return no more to their people."
After that we sent out warnings, and kept a close eye on the differentlodges of the Algonquins. But nothing happened till weeks later, whenthe tragedy on the Rapidan fell on us like a thunderclap.
* * * * *
All this time I had been too busy to go near the town or thehorse-racings and holiday meetings where I might have seen Elspeth. ButI do not think she was ever many minutes out of my mind. Indeed, I wasalmost afraid of a meeting, lest it should shatter the bright picturewhich comforted my solitude. But one evening in June as I jogged homefrom Middle Plantation through the groves of walnuts, I came suddenlyat the turn of the road on a party. Doctor James Blair, mounted on astout Flanders cob, held the middle of the path, and at his side rodethe girl, while two servants followed with travelling valises. I wasupon them before I could rein up, and the Doctor cried a heartygood-day. So I took my place by Elspeth, and, with my heart beatingwildly, accompanied them through the leafy avenues and by the greenmelon-beds in the clearings till we came out on the prospect of theriver.
The Doctor had a kindness for me, and was eager to talk of his doings.He was almost as great a moss-trooper as myself, and, with Elspeth forcompany, had visited near every settlement in the dominion. Educationand Christian privileges were his care, and he deplored the backwardstate of the land. I remember that even then he was full of his schemefor a Virginian college to be established at Middle Plantation, and hewrote weekly letters to his English friends soliciting countenance andfunds. Of the happy issue of these hopes, and the great college whichnow stands at Williamsburg, there is no need to remind this generation.
But in that hour I thought little of education. The Doctor boomed awayin his deep voice, and I gave him heedless answers. My eyes were everwandering to the slim figure at my side. She wore a broad hat of straw,I remember, and her skirt and kirtle were of green, the fairies'colour. I think she was wearied with the sun, for she spoke little; buther eyes when they met mine were kind. That day I was not ashamed of myplain clothes or my homely face, for they suited well with the road. Mygreat boots of untanned buckskin were red with dust, I was bronzed likean Indian, and the sun had taken the colour out of my old blue coat.But I smacked of travel and enterprise, which to an honest heart aredearer than brocade. Also I had a notion that my very homelinessrevived in her the memories of our common motherland. I had nothing tosay, having acquired the woodland habit of silence, and perhaps it waswell. My clumsy tongue would have only broken the spell which thesunlit forests had woven around us.
As we reached my house a cavalier rode up with a bow and a splendidsweep of his hat. 'Twas my acquaintance, Mr. Grey, come to greet thetravellers. Elspeth gave me her hand at parting, and I had from thec
avalier the finest glance of hate and jealousy which ever comfortedthe heart of a backward lover.
