wish to establish good relations with the savages. With such a lot as the crew
of the Jolly Jack it would be impossible, for they were a pack of greedy brutes.
“There is a thought, Sakim,” I said, “a thought that has come to me.”
He glanced at me. “It must be a good thought,” Sakim suggested, “I think there
is not much time, and they are very many.”
Turning, I led the way back into the woods, circling wide around toward the
shore. There was a thing I must know. My father had always told me the way to
win was to attack. No matter how outnumbered, there was always a good way to
attack.
It was a little time before we came to our objective. It was the tree to which
the upstream line was made fast. “It is a strong current,” I said.
Sakim squatted on his haunches, his teeth flashing through the darkness of his
pointed beard. “A strong current,” he agreed. “And if this line were cut—?”
Crouching close, I noticed there was no watch on the line. Nobody was closer
than us to the ship itself, and the line was a good long one. It was made fast
around the lower trunk of the tree, and heavily screened by brush.
“The big roots will help,” I said, “but we must build up some shelter with mud.”
“Mud?”
“We will not cut the line,” I said, “because both of us will be needed to rescue
Rufisco. We must be there when the line breaks, not here. We will start a fire,
a very small fire, and leave it burning. It will be screened by roots and mud as
well as the brush. When the line gives way, we will be ready and waiting.”
Sakim considered, then nodded. “Allah be with us,” he said. “It is a fearsome
thing we do.”
Carefully we prepared our small fire, and added fuel. It began to burn; flames
touched the heavy line. Adding a little fuel, we turned and went swiftly back to
our former place.
Now we must hope. If the fire did not die out, or if it was not discovered and
killed, then the line must part. Caught by the current the stern would swing
into the stream, turning counterclockwise. All hands would immediately rush to
save their ship, and then, if all went as we hoped …
We waited … and waited. Nothing happened.
The same two men stood at the door of the hut where Rufisco was likely
imprisoned. Others were gathered about their cooking fires. I notched an arrow
and looked at the man nearest me by the hut.
All was quiet. The vessel lay gently upon the waters, only straining a little at
the lines. Had our fire gone out? Had someone discovered it?
Suddenly there was a sharp cracking sound as the line parted, and instantly the
stern of the ship swung into the current. Somebody let go with a wild yell, and
there were shouts and running from aboard the vessel. Men dashed toward the bow
where a rope ladder hung.
“Now,” I said, and we went forward, not running, but walking carefully, swiftly.
A step, two steps … The heavier guard turned and I let fly my arrow. It was
high, but lucky. It took the guard in the throat and he fell, grasping the
arrow’s shaft with both hands.
Around the shore there were wild yells, shouts, orders, recriminations.
The second guard had run out a small way, and Sakim put an arm across his throat
and a knife into his ribs. I ducked into the hut.
Rufisco, barely visible in reflected firelight, was struggling. I slipped my
blade under his bonds and the razor edge parted them. “Rub your legs,” I said.
“We’ll have to run.”
“I can run,” he replied grimly, and we ducked outside. I sheathed my sword and
took up the bow again.
I notched an arrow and followed, backing up, watching to cover our retreat.
My eyes were seeking Nick Bardle. An arrow for him and I would consider myself
well paid.
Just one arrow!
He was there, but shifting about among the running men, and there was no good
target.
“Another time, Captain,” I told myself. “Another time.” I turned and walked into
the woods, and in a few minutes had caught up with my friends.
We had been quick, but lucky too. I had no good feeling about that luck of ours.
It was too good. It was building us for a smashing blow… I could feel it in my
bones.
Chapter 12
We found our way to our gig. Under the shelter of the shrubs and trees we slept,
awakened, cooked a meal, then slept again.
Finally when my eyes opened the others still slept, and I lay awake, a lonely
man, thinking back to England, the fens, and even more to a girl with a lamp in
her hand. I’d no cause to be thinking of her, yet each man has some girl he
thinks of, and my thoughts kept turning back to her.
We Sacketts had a feeling for home and family, and although I’d had no family
but my father, the sense was strong within me. Now we had furs, one half of
which were mine. It was a goodly sum, but insufficient. We must go along the
coast and keep a sharp lookout for the Tiger, Tempany’s ship. By now it might be
near.
If we could exchange our furs for more trade goods, another venture might be
even more profitable.
Rufisco awakened as I was broiling a piece of venison.
“I have not thanked you,” he said.
“It is not important.” I stirred the coals. “You would have done the same for
me.”
He sat up. “Perhaps. I have been wondering about that.”
“Well,” I said, “in my place you would have.”
“Your place?”
“I was your leader. I was responsible. It makes a difference, you know.”
He chuckled grimly. “I avoid leadership. I do not wish to decide such things,
nor to be responsible.”
With my knife I cut off a sliver of my meat, burning my fingers in the process.
“When you and Sakim chose to come with me I accepted responsibility for your
lives. I became no longer a free agent. Unless one is at heart a rascal, I think
he becomes a little better in many ways by assuming leadership.”
“You may have it.” He reached for a chunk of the meat, impaled in on a stick and
held it to the flames. “And now what, Oh Mighty Leader?”
“We go to sea. If she survived the crossing, the Tiger may now be alongshore. I
saw her charts, and it was toward this place she intended to come.”
“And then?”
“Exchange our furs and return to trading.”
“For you … not for me.”
“No?”
“I have a foreboding upon me. This land is not for me. I shall return to Naples,
or even to Florence or to Ravenna. I shall bask in the sun on a terrace
somewhere and watch the pretty girls go by. I shall drink wine and smell the
smells … No, my friend, I want to live.”
He gestured widely. “I have no taste for wilderness like this. I do not like
swamps, lonely beaches and forests. Nor your mountains yonder. I am a man of the
streets. I like to push through crowds, feel bodies about me. I am a man of the
world, not of the wilderness.”
Sakim was awake and he was smiling. “I, too, miss the world and the women,” he
said, “but this … this is new! It is splendid! It is unknown! What feet have
trod this soil? What lungs have breathed this air? What mysteries lie beyond the
mountains?”
Rufisco shrugged. “I know what lies beyond your mountains, and it is only more
mountains. Beyond each bend in the road there is another bend in the road. You
may go, but I shall sit in a tavern and drink the wine of the land, of whatever
land, and pinch the girls of the country and perhaps be slapped for my pinching,
but smiled at, too.
“You are a merchant, Barnabas, and you, Sakim, a poet. I am a lover. This voyage
has convinced me finally. I shall sit somewhere with a glass and throw bread to
the pigeons.”
I arose. “Very well, but for the present we had best be getting out upon the
sound, and wary of the Jolly Jack.”
“A neat trick,” Rufisco commented, “to be seen by the one … if it is there …
and not by the other, which is certainly there.”
From the river bank I studied the river. It flowed, brown and muddy, toward the
sound. There was nothing upon the water but a great dead tree upon whose bare
branches a brown bird perched, in ruffled contentment, accepting the free ride.
We shoved off, and lifting our sail, scudded along before the breeze, our eyes