1636: Seas of Fortune (28 page)

The captain of the
Patientia
glowered at him. “This is the first I’ve heard of a ‘USE Territory of the Wild Coast.’ It’s not marked on my charts, I saw no USE flag or other marker anywhere along this river. The land was unclaimed.”

David shook his head. “Permit me to remind you, Captain, that the gold was discovered by an expedition from Gustavus, composed of the Ashanti Kojo, and the Indians Coqui and Tetube. They were sent by Maria Vorst, who is the ‘Science Officer’ of our colony, and they thus constituted an official USE expedition.”
Whether they knew it or not
, mused David.

“They claimed the Marowijne River, and all its tributaries, for the USE, by right of discovery.

“The Ashanti are allies of Gustavus, and residents of the Territory, by treaty, and were brought here by Kojo to pan for gold. Thus, through them, the USE claims these lands by right of occupation. And indeed they, or some of them, are settling here permanently.”
Have to remember to tell them that
, David told himself.

“And lastly, Captain, I have a warship here. So the Marowijne is ours, by right of conquest.”

David laughed abruptly. “Even if it weren’t, you abandoned the
Patientia
in Gustavus. It has been lawfully seized for failure to pay dockage. So unless you think you can
swim
back to Europe with your gold dust, you had best recognize my authority and comply with our mining laws.”

That silenced the man. Or perhaps it was the dark looks that he was receiving from David’s well-armed crew and the Gustavans.

“Anyone else wish to question my authority?” David paused. “I thought not.

“There is going to be a mining law. If the colonists, sailors and Ashanti can agree on its terms, well, that’ll be fine, as long as the government get the fees it sets for recording a claim. If not, then I’ll decide. I want each group to pick a representative today. And the representatives have three days to reach agreement.

“Dismissed.”

* * *

The treasure seekers’ representatives eventually agreed that every miner would have to put up some kind of monument, several feet tall, that gave his name and the date of the claim, and place boundary markers to show where the claim began and ended. And that the claim would have to be worked for at least one month each year, or it would be lost. Jan agreed to keep record of all the claims, in return for a recordation fee. And he would collect the government tax that David had insisted on, too.

The biggest issue was how large a claim could be awarded to a single miner. Initially, the thought was that the claim should be as wide as the creek itself, and one hundred fathoms long. An up-timer would assume a fathom was exactly six feet, but in seventeenth-century Europe it was the distance between the fingertips of a sailor’s outstretched arms and was five or five-and-a-half feet. A wag suggested that since they were so far from the sea, it would be more appropriate to measure the “run” in “smoots.” Jan obligingly lay down on the ground and those miners who had rope knotted them at intervals of a “smoot.”

David approved the mining law, with only a few changes. One of them was that the miners could pool their claims. While all the claims would still need to be worked, they could be recorded at one time, for a discounted fee, as jointly owned. This obviously was to the advantage of David’s sailors.

* * *

That settled, David had quizzed the Ashanti as to where and how to pan for gold. His men were raring to go.

“Big Chief David, we are so sorry for you,” said Antoa.

“Why? Is all the gold gone already?”

“No, no. When we came here, it was the beginning of the Time of Daily Rains. When it rains, the Crabs of the River God scurry about, and bring the gold out of the River God’s palace and leave it where the river shallows or turns.

“But now, the waters are so high, that it is difficult to reach the sands where the gold is. This is the time to paddle home.”

“Perhaps we can divert some of the water . . .” David suggested, somewhat doubtfully. “We have the apprentice carpenter from the colony, as well as the ship’s carpenter.”

“I cannot say if that will work,” Antoa told him. “It is not our way.”

David’s cousin Heyndrick spoke up. “So you don’t mine gold in the dry season at all?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. Between harvest time and planting time, we dig shafts in the hills. But we don’t yet know where to dig in this land.”

“Until then, look for falling water when the water is low,” Kojo said suddenly. Questioned further, Kojo and Antoa explained that when a gold-bearing river reached a waterfall, the gold was deposited at its base, underwater, but the base might be more or less exposed at the height of the dry season. It wasn’t likely to be as productive as the lode gold mined by shafts, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

“I think I can depend on my fellow colonists to honor the agreement with the Ashanti.” said Heinrich. “The most experienced miners among us are those, like me, who worked alongside the Ashanti at the bauxite pits, and we became friends. Most of us, at any rate. But what about the sailors from the
Patientia
? Or your sailors? Or the treasure-seekers who’ll come from Europe, next year or the year after? Who’s going to keep the law after you sail off?”

“I’ve thought about that,” said David. He raised his voice. “By the powers vested in me as governor of the USE Territory of the Wild Coast, I hereby appoint you president of the Marowijne Mining District, including the bed and banks of the Marowijne River, and of all waters tributary thereon.

“There. You’ll keep them honest.”

“But I have no experience—”

“You’re one of the original colonists. You’re a miner. You’re a friend of the Ashanti. You can make it work. We’re going to build a fort right above Maria Falls, and I will leave my cousin Heyndrick there as militia commander of a mixed militia, composed of white colonists and Ashanti. I persuaded the Ashanti to settle here, so they don’t have to travel as much to reach the gold field each year. We’ll find other people to dig for bauxite back in Paranam.”

Low Water Time, Central Amazon (August–September 1636)

Coqui smacked his lips. “Any moment now.”

He and Tetube stood on a beach, their back to one of the creeks feeding into the Rio Negro, holding spears and improvised nets. Moonlight glinted off the sand and water.

“Here they come!”

The young river turtles, hatching in synchrony, made a mad dash for the water. Birds dive-bombed them, and caimans, dolphins and fish waited for them to take the plunge.

Coqui and Tetube became separated as they chased first one, then another hatchling.

Suddenly, Tetube found herself face to face with a jaguar. It snarled. She back-pedaled, and found her feet squishing into wet sand.

Agony! Her right leg cramped and collapsed under her.

She looked about fearfully for the jaguar but it was already trotting off with a turtle in its mouth.

“Coqui! Help!” she screamed.

He came running, and lifted her up. Once they were on higher ground, he inspected her foot.

The moonlight was bright enough to reveal the characteristic wound left by an angry stingray. Coqui winced in sympathy. Many fishermen bore stingray scars, on foot, ankle or calf.

The sting was serrated as well as venomous, and the pain was intense.

He hugged her. “I am here. It will be all right.”

In the morning, when there was light enough to gather the right plants, he made a poultice for her.

Even so, it was two weeks before the pain went away.

Lawa River region, Inland Eastern Guiana, September 1636

David had noted, with some curiosity, that the rains came and left at different times here, on the upper Maroni, than they had back in Gustavus. By the time the dry season began on the Lawa, in September, the colonists, and the crew of
Patientia
, had left the gold fields. David wondered whether they would make it back safely. And whether the
Patientia
would cause any problems for the Gustavans. Its cannon had been confiscated before David left Gustavus, but the crew could still be dangerous. David had to hope that Dirck and Carsten had taken the necessary precautions—they could call on Maurício for assistance—and of course as the colonists returned home the colony’s defenses would be stiffened. In any event, it was out of his hands.

David’s larger worry was the temper of his men. Initially, they had sought gold in high spirits, constructing wooden dams and chutes to control the high waters. However, the rainy season of the Guianas was at quite a different scale than anything the Forty-Niners of the American history books had to put up with. The waterworks had to be given up as a lost cause. Perhaps some other year, with better tools and more men, and begun sooner, it would work.

Then his men had dug shallow pits in the riverbanks and higher lands, wherever some peculiarity of vegetation or earth color led them to fancy that gold might be present.

No luck.

His third mate caught two men plotting to sneak back to the new Ashanti village, near Maria Falls, and force one of the Ashanti to divulge the secrets of gold mining that they had obviously held back from the whites. Those men were summarily executed.

David wished, fervently, that they would find a waterfall, as Kojo had suggested. But there were no waterfalls marked on David’s map of French Guiana—the American atlases hadn’t shown much interest in that region—and the highlands, where one might reasonably expect to find a waterfall, were well to the south.

* * *

“Captain, come quick!” One of David’s sailors was shouting.

David wasn’t the only man to rush over, but he was the first to speak the word that was in everyone’s thoughts.

“Gold?”

“Yes, sir. Look.” The sailor held out a small nugget. He pointed at the base of a boulder, in the middle of the stream they had been following. “That’s where I found it.”

David realized that the stream had changed grade here, from steep to shallow, depositing gravels and even a few small boulders. “Spread out, men! Along the rock line!”

It proved to be a very respectable pay streak.

Buoyed by this find, David and his crew continued to explore southward for the rest of the dry season, then returned to the established gold field.

Surinamese Short Wet Season (December 1636–January 1637),

Gustavus

A distant boom drew the attention of everyone in the Gustavus town square. A sentry called out, “Signal cannon from Fort Lincoln.”

The townspeople who were members of the militia dashed into their homes to grab their weapons, just in case hostile warships had been sighted.

“I see smoke on the horizon,” said Johann Mueller. “Is the forest on fire?”

“Is the fire on this side of the river?” asked another.

“I can’t tell,” said Johann. “You know how the river twists and turns.”

They heard a chugging sound, one totally outside their experience, and then a great whistle. His Danish Majesty’s Armed Steamship
Valdemar
came into view.

* * *

“So that’s the little secret you’ve been hiding,” declared Henrique. “A steamship. I should have guessed; you did tell me that Henry Wickham got rubber tree seeds from Brazil to London that way.”

Maria smiled sweetly.

“How long will it take to steam back to Europe?”

“About a month, according to the letter that told me to expect it.”

“Amazing. A sailing ship captain would count himself lucky to make the passage in two months. That will certainly improve your chances of making it there with viable seeds.

“But how are you planning to get up and down the Amazon without the Portuguese stopping you? You must enter by the Canal do Norte or the Canal do Sul. On the northern approach, you pass Fort Cumau.” This was the modern town of Macapa. “We took it from the English, and left it in ruins, but when I fled Belém, there was talk of rebuilding it.

“If you come from the south, then on the south bank of the main channel you will find the fort of Gurupa. The channel there is narrow enough so that you are within cannon range. And they’ll hear your engines from far off. The garrison is fifty Portuguese and perhaps twice that number of Indians.

“The
Valdemar
has sails as well as a steam engine, so I suppose that if the winds are favorable it can sail up quietly. But there are many Indians living by the banks, and boating in the water. The
Valdemar
cannot escape detection, especially since you must enter in daylight in order to see where you are going. Perhaps it will have the advantage of surprise when it arrives, and can pass the forts before the cannon are loaded, but when it returns downstream, the Portuguese will be ready for it.”

“Not to worry,” said Maria.

“It doesn’t look like one of the ironclads that the last supply ship told us about. But it has some American superweapon on it, yes?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“You’re just going to be infuriatingly reticent, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

* * *

The varnished cotton skin quivered like a living thing. Hydrogen bubbled out of the generator, traveled through a hose into a scrubber, and then by a second hose into the envelope of the slowly inflating airship.

Henrique snorted. “So that’s your superweapon.”

Maria nodded. “Notice the hoses? Made with
our
rubber.”

“What are the Manao Indians going to do when this damned thing flies overhead? Run away in terror, I would think.”

“I told Coqui that I would come to him in the belly of a giant bird. He will tell them that the bird is friendly.”

“When did you—I suppose you told him when we were in Fort Kyk-Over-Al, and I was off buying supplies.”

“That’s right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise? It’s just too bad I couldn’t arrange things so that the first you saw of the airship was it in the air, and me waving from it.”

Henrique watched the airship envelope as it slowly inflated. The nose cap had been hoisted up and attached to Carsten’s alleged watchtower, now revealed to in fact be a short mooring mast. The hind part of the airship was covered with a large net, weighted around the edge, so it wouldn’t rise up too high and place unnecessary strain on the mooring connection. “So how much longer will the fill-up take?”