“I am here,” he said simply, “and would be used. My skills rust. I thought at
first to say nothing, but when Wa-ga-su was brought in, I thought then to speak,
but hesitated.”
“We have little medicine,” I said.
“There are herbs and there are minerals. I can make my own. Lately I have seen
herbs in the swamps and along the hillsides like those I know.”
“Collect them, then,” I said “Gather your herbs. Find your minerals. What help
you need, we will give. By the look of today there will be many times when a man
is needed who knows of medicine.”
I stood up. “It is a bright day, and much is to be done. Be careful, Sakim.
There will be Indians about. I give you one other chore …” I pointed at Lila.
“Teach her what you can. She knows much of herbs. She will help you.”
When Pim stood beside me in the yard he said, “Do you think he lies?”
“No … I believe him. There are stranger lives men have led. We are fortunate,
Pim. We have a surgeon, a physician! No doubt he will keep some of us alive. If
he saves only one, it is good. Sakim and I sailed together before this, and he
proved a good man. And loyal.”
Each day now was a day of work, and Wa-ga-su was quick to see how little we
knew, and how much we needed to know. He led us to likely spots in which to find
nuts, berries, and edible roots.
In several places along the banks of streams we found thickets of blackberries,
dewberries, and persimmons. We picked and picked until every receptacle we had
was filled. Here and there we found nuts, although the season was still early
for many of them.
Wa-ga-su drew in the sand a picture of his country for us, a vast area drained
by the Catawba River, and lying between two other rivers. It lay at the farthest
point, right at the foot of the mountains, and perhaps into the mountains
themselves. That he did not make clear.
He showed us how to add the meal of ground nuts to thicken soup or stew, using
walnuts, chestnuts, or hickory nuts, and how to search for and find clams along
the shores.
John Tilly, who had been in command aboard the Abigail, went in a boat to search
for clams and to catch fish out on the sound and along the sandy shores.
Suddenly Watkins came to me. “Barnabas.” He spoke softly not to alarm the
others. “Tilly’s comin’ back. He’s comin’ fast!”
We hurried to the river where Tilly had gone at once io the Abigail, dropping
off two men. As we waited, he came to the landing with the other two.
“Ship off shore,” he said shortly, “I made her out with my glass. The Jolly Jack
… of London.”
Nick Bardle …
My old enemy was returned. Once he had kidnapped me, several times had tried to
kill me, and he had killed Brian Tempany, Abigail’s father.
I went to look.
His vessel was not large but was heavily gunned, and highly maneuverable. He
would have a large crew, perhaps three times the men we could muster.
“Tilly,” I said, “get the Abigail in good position then prepare for battle.”
We had six guns in the fort and we brought them all to bear on the river,
leaving only the swivel-guns and our light arms to repel an overland attack.
Abigail looked pale and frightened. “Don’t worry,” I advised, “we’ll handle
him.”
She nodded, but I could see she was worried, but no less than I, for if the
attack stretched out too long we should lose much good working time before the
cold weather set in. And during the past days, some of the leaves had begun to
turn and there was frost upon the lowlands, and the morning mists were thicker.
I looked downstream where we would see Bardle’s sails first, and I felt a little
shiver go through me. I, too, was afraid, for it was no longer as it once had
been, when only I could suffer from my mistakes. Now there were others, these
who had entrusted themselves to me.
“I am not thinking of me,” she said suddenly, “nor of you only. I am thinking of
your son.”
“My son … ?” I looked at her stupidly. “What did you say? My son?”
I am sorely afraid I shouted those last words, and they all turned, those who
stood along the wall watching, those who manned the guns.
And then as realization dawned, a cheer went up.
My son!
“Cap’n?” It was Jublain. “Here she comes!”
Her masts showed against the sky above the green of the forest, a thinning
forest, where the leaves had begun to fall. Her masts, then her bow, then a
fores’l.
“Tom,” I called to Watkins. “Your gun only … fire!”
19
Watkins put his match to the touch-hole. There was an instant of pause, then the
gun belched flame and smoke, leaping as if to spring, from its carriage, and we
saw the ball strike the butt of the bowsprit and scatter splinters in every
direction. There was a great splitting and a crash as the yard came down and the
bowsprit hung all askew, held only by the rigging.
Taking our shot for a signal, the gunners aboard the Abigail let go with a
four-gun broadside that caught the Jolly Jack head on.
Then, with the Jack broadside to us, we let go with the remainder of the fort’s
guns, only an instant before the Jack fired its own broadside.
A momentary advantage had been ours. Bardle had apparently only seen the
Abigail, and if he knew of the fort’s existence he did not guess it was armed as
it was from the guns of the ships we had taken.
Watkins’ first shot had taken them unawares, throwing them off just in time to
permit the Abigail to fire.
The glory of the sunlit morning was blasted by cannon-fire, and the beauty of
the oncoming ship was shattered by our fire. Before the powder smoke obscured
the scene I saw a great section of the Jack’s rail burst into fragments, and
another ripping a hole in a sail. Others fell harmlessly into the water.
Great clouds of smoke billowed up from their guns and ours. There were
splintering crashes, and the awful red lightning of the guns mingled with the
thunder of them and the whine of flying splinters and the shouts and screams of
men.
Through a haze of smoke I glimpsed the Jack falling back, guns firing. Suddenly
the thunder of the guns ceased and there was an unbelievable silence. And then
groans, cries, and calls for help.
Our massive gate was battered to splinters. One gun had been blasted from its
carriage, and I saw Abigail and Lila bending over a man who lay sprawled on the
ground. Then I saw another, as they ran from the first to the second.
Two men were being helped down ladders, both wounded. Another man, his arm
dangling, was going down a ladder by himself.
Through the smoke I could see the topm’sts of the Abigail, and as the smoke
lifted could see she had been hulled at least twice and was down by the head.
Men were working about the deck, so some at least had survived. Even as I
looked, one of the guns fired another shot.
Jublain came to me. “Two dead, Barnabas, and seven injured … one of them
seriously.”
He waved a hand at the gate. “I’ve started repairs, and we’ll need them quickly
if he tries to come back. I think the Abigail is in bad shape.”
Jeremy King came up the ladder. “Jeremy, take Wa-ga-su. He can probably guide
you through the swamp to a point where you can see the Jolly Jack. Take a
telescope. I want a report on her condition as soon as possible. Don’t let
yourself be seen.”
Through my own glass I studied the Abigail, and it gave me a twinge to see her.
I could never stand to see a fine ship damaged, for they are things of such
beauty, white sails against the sky, prow lifting and dipping in the sea. They
are living things.
One of the holes in her hull was barely above the waterline, the other higher,
probably in the gundeck.
“Recharge all guns,” I said. “Two gunners stand by, the rest get to work helping
with the gate.”
I went down the ladder to the common room. Sakim was there at work with Lila.
One man already had his arm set and was sitting to one side with a glass of ale
in his hand. He grinned at me. “Good fight!” he said.
The only seriously injured man was a youngster. A fragment of metal from a
bursting shell had ripped the side of his neck, another piece imbedded itself in