Sackett's Land (1974) (10 page)

"I think we must be bold with these savages," I said, "bold, yet respectful. They know us not. We must let them know we are not afraid, and that in our trade we wish only to be fair."

"My people traded across the world in ancient times," Sakim said. "Our ships went to India, China, and the Spice Islands. Even voyages around the world are talked of, and long before Magellan.

"It is written that when he found the Straits that were named for him he had a chart ... Who made the chart? Who had been there before him? An Arab? A Chinese? Who? I think many civilizations have been born and have died before history was written."

"You would take the glory from Columbus?" Rufisco protested.

"Who knows how old is man?" Sakim said.

"There are tombs in Ireland," I commented, "from a thousand years before the pyramids were built."

The wind was freshening, and even our small sail was catching a pocketful, and the gig was moving along the shore, but well out from it. Suddenly the line of surf vanished and we found ourselves before an opening. Easing the tiller over, I took us into the bay. Whether it was large or small, I could not say.

Talk was well enough, I thought, but now what we needed was shelter. What little I knew of this coast was bad--terrible storms were known here, and tremendous seas.

When it came to that, I knew not if this were indeed the coast I believed it to be. Our charts were crude, and few had sailed the full length of the coast.

At Boston, where we frequently sailed from the fens, I'd learned enough to know the Atlantic had been an obstacle, but never an insurmountable barrier. To cross it from Ireland was no great thing, and many an Irish, English or Breton seaman was amused by the talk of the Columbus "discovery." To them it was scarcely that, for they had been catching fish off the Grand Banks for nearly a hundred years.

There was a faint light in the sky now, and we could see clearly the gray line of coast with a white line of surf along the sand.

We were in some kind of a bay or sound, with open water to the south, and to the west a shore lined with trees. We edged that way, for it was no part of my plan to have daylight find us exposed to all eyes upon the open water.

We saw no sign of life along the shore, no plume of smoke. Yet there must be natives here, in such a place as this.

Rufisco called softly. "Look! There is an opening!"

I put the tiller over, and under a good head of wind we ran in toward the shore. There was a cove before us, with a half moon of beach, but nearer there was a smaller opening that seemed to be a creek mouth. As Sakim took in our sail, we ran up this creek until we saw a great dead tree that had fallen half in the water, half out. Sculling with an oar we worked close to it and tied up.

A bird sang and the water rustled. Overhead a white gull winged slowly past, dropping a curious glance our way.

Standing up, I belted on my blade, thrust pistols into my waistband and took up the fowling piece.

"No noise!" I warned. "Let us be very quiet. We are alone here, and we must know something of where we are."

We waded ashore, looking carefully around us. Some of the trees were pine, with here and there a gnarled and ancient oak, much brush of kind I did not know, and driftwood everywhere.

Our position seemed good. A small but deep creek flowed down through the sandhills on the opposite side of the cove which we had seen. There was perhaps an acre of ground scattered with driftwood and coarse grass that sloped down to the creek. It was ringed with trees, sheltered from all view.

"No fire," I said. "Break out some of the biscuit. We will eat that."

Rufisco went back to the boat to get the biscuit and Sakim went further inland. Soon he was back. "There is a spring whose water is not bad." He had some slender sticks in his hand. "I shall make a bow," he said, "and arrows."

After we had eaten lightly, careful of the food we had brought ashore, I left Sakim at making his bow and went inland, moving quietly, working my way to what seemed the highest of the sandhills.

When I reached it there was a good view on all sides. Toward the sea and to the south was a broad sound, protected from the sea by barrier islands of sand. There was no sign of a sail, yet I could not believe we had gotten away so easily, nor that aNick Bardle would rest content.

Further along the shore I found where a fire had been built, but the ends of charred wood that remained were old. There were many shells there where Indians, or whoever the fire-builders had been, had eaten shellfish.

Many grassy meadows lay back from the shore, a fair land indeed, and promising well for future farmers, if such there came to be. Nowhere did I see any signs of recent men--only the remains of fires and a few sticks cut by some crude implement.

I saw many ducks and geese, and several times brown and somewhat speckled birds flew up, very large birds, many of them as big as geese. These must be the turkeys of which Gosnold had told.

After a while, I came down to the bank of the stream on which we had camped, but far above our camp site. It was enough to tell me that this river offered no access to the higher country. That must be found elsewhere.

On high ground again I sat down just to look and to study.

We must find a river, sail up the river and inland for a short distance, then establish a base. Part of our goods we would bury, and carefully conceal the place of hiding. If attacked or robbed we must not lose all. Then I must approach some strong chieftain and establish an alliance with him, and choose a site on the river for a town.

A river-crossing not too far from the sea, a place where Indians were used to come, yet reachable by ocean vessels. For it was in my mind to establish a trading post which would grow into a city. Rome had begun at a river crossing, and London, too.

Now we were in new land, a free land, a land to be shaped as we wished, and I hoped then that those who came after me would want, as I wanted, a safe land for people, for homes, for freedom.

All this was good, this open land. I thought of the crowded streets of London, of the poor I had seen there, and of many of the men with whom I'd worked in the quarries, each hungry for his own bit of land. Why not here?

Not all the land for a few great lords, but a piece of land for each man, land to grow crops, to keep bees and a cow.

Suddenly there was movement. Below me, moving in single file, four savages moved stealthily. Four armed with bows, moving toward the point on which we had camped!

Four of them, three of us, but we were scattered, and neither Sakim nor Rufisco knew of their coming.

Four ... and they were painted for war. I had heard of that.

My position was a good one, for I stood close to the trunk of a huge oak, thicker than two of me; and beside me were others, almost as large. There were fallen timbers about; it was not an easy place to approach.

What to do? I hesitated to shoot a man who had not seen me, yet if I didn't they would stalk and kill me if they could.

And if they were allowed to go on they would find my friends and perhaps kill them, too.

Something brushed leaves behind me, and I turned swiftly. An Indian stood there, but he lifted his hand, palm out. "No enemy you," he said, and he pointed at the four warriors in the trail below "There enemy!"

A half dozen Indians came up through the trees, and scarcely glancing at me, sifted through the brush and trees along the hillside.

"I am Barnabas," I said. "I come to trade and to learn."

"I am Potaka. I speak white man many time. I friend."

"I have two friends." I held up two fingers. "There. ..." I pointed. "No hurt."

He was gone, and I waited. For several minutes I waited, heard a piercing yell, then a running and a movement in the brush.

Suddenly, one of the Indians I had seen in the trail below came running toward me. There was a long scratch on his arm and he carried a bloody knife. He rushed through the brush and burst into the clearing where I stood.

For a moment he stopped, as if transfixed, but I stared back at him and made no move. He looked, grunted something, then was gone. Obviously, I had astonished him.

Potaka came back, on the run. "He come?"

"That way," I pointed. "He came, and he fled. Very quick."

Potaka hesitated, then sheathed his knife. "It is enough. We kill two."

"You speak very good English."

He smiled broadly. "Me friend Englishman. No friend Espanish. Sometime Espanish fight us. Sometime English fight Espanish. One time Englishman, Potaka fight Espanish together. You like?"

"Your village is near?"

"Far ... two sleeps." He pointed inland. "You come?"

"Later."

Potaka looked about. "You are only three?"

"Our ship comes back soon," I said, casually. "We were left to find friendly Indians who wish to trade. We wish to trade knives, needles, and cloth for furs."

"Come to my village. Welcome. No parlay to them. They kill."

He was a man of medium height, strong, no darker than many a Portuguese, and quick in his movements. His expression was friendly, and there was much about him I liked.

"We fight Espanish many time," he said. "Englishman live among us ... long time."

"Is he with you now?"

"No more. He live four, five year, then he say he see behind mountains. Maybe seven moons pass. Maybe dead now."

From my belt I took a knife. It was keen of blade, and as long as my forearm. I extended it to him, haft first. "For you, my friend," I said, and gave it to him.

He knelt suddenly, tracing with his finger in the dust. He pointed to the river nearby. Then with his finger he showed the river, a trail leading from it. "Village here," he said. "You come."

He picked up his spear. "You come," he repeated, and then he was gone.

I waited, listening. There was no sound for a long time, and so I went down through the trees toward our camp, and after a long walk, arrived there.

Rufisco greeted me. Sakim emerged from the willows. "There was fighting?" Rufisco asked.

"Among the Indians," I said, "and I may have made a friend."

"I do not trust them," Rufisco muttered. "They are savages."

"What is a savage?" I asked, shrugging. "It is another way of life. We will be cautious, my friends, we will be bold and we will be honest. If that does not work, we will fight--when the time comes.

"There are many of them and only three of us. I think it would be well to remember this. My friend is Potaka. He says the others are to be avoided."

"What do they say of Potaka?" Rufisco asked.

I shrugged. "Probably the same thing, but until we know, we will be careful. And the Eno has invited us to his village."

"You are going?"

"We came to trade. I gave him a gift, a trade knife. Sometimes a blade can open a door."

When darkness came and our smoke would not be visible, we built a fire in a hollow and baked some fish Sakim had caught. "We will move," I said, "when we have eaten. We will find a new camp."

The night was a time of stillness. Frogs croaked, and several times we heard great roarings in the distance. "Lions?" Rufisco asked.

"Alligators," Sakim said. "I have heard them on the Nile. We must be careful, my friend. Do not step upon or over a log until you are sure it is a log, and watch the tail. They will try to break your legs or knock you into the water with their tails."

"It is very dark,' Rufisco said. "Can we not rest before we move?"

I was myself tired. "Sakim? You will take the first watch? One hour only, then awaken Rufisco. One hour, and then awaken me. I will watch for an hour and then we will go. It will be a little rest for each."

It seemed no time until I was awakened, and when Rufisco lay asleep I sat and listened into the night. Behind me, stretching no man knew how far, a strange land. To right and left a lonely coast where likely lay only the wrecks of ships carried here by storms or currents in the sea.

Soon we would move ... toward what? Would I die here and leave only my bones for legacy? Or would some strange destiny begin here, in this place, so the name of Sackett became one with this new, strange land?

It was clouding over, and there was a hint of dampness on the wind. Rain? It would help us. It would conceal our movements, erase our tracks.

I touched each upon each shoulder. "Sakim! Rufisco! It is time."

Chapter
9

The rain came with a rush of heavy drops, a scattering like thrown gravel. Then the massed downpour of the storm descended, pushing inward from the sea, an invader like us.

Against the wind and rain we went upstream, up this nameless river, past timbered shores and swamp-like meadows. The wind held, and our sail moved us along, the driving rain offering some concealment.

Huddling in our cloaks we watched the dim shores slip past, and then the wind slackened, our sail gave us scarcely any movement against the current, and we unshipped oars and pointed on an angle for the left bank.