when I leave you, remember that Tempany is coming along behind you, and he knows
your craft and you. He will be looking for you.
“The night after that on which you took me, I was to meet an Earl, Genester’s
cousin. He had plans in which I was concerned. Captain Tempany was also
involved, as were others. Oh, you’ve done it this time, Bardle! You’ve fixed
yourself nicely!”
Gathering what I needed in one hand and under that arm, I backed to the door.
“Don’t try coming out, Bardle, and don’t try to follow me.”
“You think Tempany will find you?” Bardle sneered. “No man knows this coast, not
even Gosnold or Newport! Once you leave this vessel you’ll not be seen again.”
“Hadn’t you guessed? I don’t intend to be seen, not for a long time, Bardle. Not
until after you’ve been drawn and quartered and hung in chains. You’ve been the
death of many a poor lad. Now you can die for me.”
At the steps I paused again. “I plan to trade with the savages, Bardle. I shall
live here, gather a cargo of furs. And I shall return in a few years, a rich
man.
“When I return to England, I shall go back and see what remains of your body. By
then they will probably have thrown your bones into potter’s field.”
“You’re a coldblooded one, Sackett,” he stared at me, his eyes sullen, “but the
savages will deal with you.”
I drew the door shut behind me and went up the ladder. All was quiet. Yet when I
drew near the bulwark Sakim stepped out quickly. “Sackett, we’d better be
ashore. I think something is stirring down below.”
“Aye. Into the boat with you.” I was rigging a sling for my additional goods as
I spoke. All was dark and still, and there were no stars in the sky. From what
talk I’d picked up, it was said this was a coast where terrible storms often
struck.
Sakim went down a rope to the boat and stood by to cast off. Rufisco followed.
I had a leg over the railing when they came, and they came with a rush. They had
found some opening forward of which I knew nothing, and they had gathered in the
darkness there. They were close before I saw them and they came suddenly.
At the same moment, Nick Bardle burst from his cabin door, pistol in hand. Where
he had the extra gun I did not know, but I shot at the mob rushing me, then
threw my other leg over and slid down the rope.
In an instant, Bardle was there, pistol up, he took careful aim, but I hit the
boat and Sakim cast off. Rufisco had stepped to the oars and he gave a terrific
pull, backing instead of going forward. And the move saved my life.
The pistol bellowed, and the slug hit the bulwark near me with a thud.
Rufisco was shaking out some canvas, and the wind caught at it. We moved forward
swiftly, but I held my fire, watching Bardle. He was no longer attempting to
charge his pistol, just staring at me.
Once more only, I turned to look at the Jolly Jack. Her bow was swinging slowly
toward the sea, for Bardle had no wish to be caught adrift on a lee shore. I
looked, and then I turned my eyes away from the ship, away from the sea, away
from England and home. Before me lay a continent, a vast sweep of land inhabited
by savage men of whom I knew nothing. Nor had I any knowledge of how or when I
might escape from this land, nor what awaited us upon landing.
I crawled aft, edging my way, for we were fearfully overloaded with goods. I
took the tiller and sank down into place.
Off upon my left I could hear the rustle of surf upon the sand. It was a quiet
night.
Sakim looked back from a place in the bow. “What do we do now?” he said.
A moment I hesitated, and then replied, “We find a haven before daylight, some
place of concealment where we may hide ourselves and the gig. Then we will look
about and see what manner of land we have come to.”
It had been in my mind to trade for furs, to return to England a rich man. But
now England seemed far, far away, and the land before me, vast, mysterious and
unknown. This land was my destiny …
If I was to establish a family, it would be here in this land. And if they were
to prosper here, it would have to be in such a way as the land demanded. I had
no doubt those distant sons and grandsons would respond, that we Sacketts would
establish a place for ourselves here, in this land, this America.
Chapter 8
The shore line was faintly visible, a vague white line off to our far right. Yet
it was not in my thoughts to go immediately ashore, nor to beach the gig in some
place near at hand simply to be soon ashore.
Some inlet, cove or small bay was what we needed, or some small, offshore island
where we could conceal ourselves and the gig until we could decide what to do.
The phosphorescent water rolled back from the bow, the rigging of our small sail
creaked pleasantly, and we sat still, not talking, filled with wonder at what we
had done and were doing. On our right was the strange land, discovered more than
one hundred years back, yet even now unknown. My mind was filled with awe as I
remembered Tallis speaking of a great river found by Hernando de Soto, a
mysterious river from out of nowhere that rushed away again into a vague
somewhere …
“I am somewhat afraid,” I spoke quietly, into the blackness. “It is a strange
land into which we go.”
“It is good to say that you are afraid,” Sakim said. “It is not good to be too
bold. A little fear makes a man think. It is better to be a little afraid, and
yet do what has to be done.”
“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.