Oatcakes and Courage (6 page)

Katherine and Anne hauled together and managed to bring Janet to standing. She was so weak in the knees that all her weight sagged against them.

“Oh!” Katherine panted, “Come on, Janet. One foot and then the other. We must get you above.”

Step by agonizing step, they shuffled toward the ladder.

Anne stumbled and leaned against the upright of the ladder. How in the name of everything holy would they get this woman up on deck?

Just then, Janet retched, and lost what was left of her meagre breakfast.

Anne bit her bottom lip. Her stomach rolled unhappily and threatened to heave.

“What do we do now?” Anne asked Katherine through gritted teeth.

“I'll get Hugh,” Katherine said, and she slipped up the ladder before Anne could reply.

“Grand,” Anne thought, as she steadied Janet between the ladder and her shoulder. “Here I am with this poor pregnant woman and a puddle of vomit at my feet. Dear Lord, Katherine, don't be long.”

Whether in answer to her prayer or because Katherine never lagged about anything, she reappeared moments later with Hugh and his brother Alexander. The two men looked like they'd been fashioned from one cookie cutter. They had the same stocky build, the same solid neck, the same bright red hair and beard.

The men blanched at the mess at the bottom of the steps, but they were valiant enough. They gently hoisted poor Janet Fraser up the ladder and onto the deck. Katherine's husband made a makeshift bed for Janet near the stern out of some canvas and they laid her there. Then the men went off, leaving the womenfolk to deal with the seasickness.

Out in the air, Janet began to revive a bit, but if she opened her eyes to glimpse the horizon rise and fall, rise and fall, she moaned and quickly closed them again.

Katherine went off to find Janet's husband, Kenneth. She sent him to fetch some water. The pregnant woman sipped this thankfully, and finally she slept.

“Now,” Katherine said, wrinkling her nose, “I suppose I must clean up below.”

Anne swallowed noisily. She knew she could volunteer to sit with Janet and not have to help Katherine. But that seemed cowardly.

She sighed. “I'll help you.”

Katherine gave her a quick look, to see if Anne really meant it, and when she saw that she did, gave her a large smile and a squeeze on the arm. “There are many below who are too miserable to move. Someone must care for them.”

Anne nodded, not enthusiastically, but with resignation. She followed Katherine into the foul hold.

Several other stouthearted women, Elspie MacLeod (Katherine's sister-in-law), Marion McLeod, Lily Sutherland, and Rebecca Patterson, aided in the cleaning. They worked till dusk, carrying the full buckets out and dumping them over the rails and mopping up the floor. Anne tried to take her mind to other places – heather-covered fields and mountain lochs – to detach from the disgusting chore.

At last, it was so dark, and they were so tired and sickened, they could do no more. They all went out on deck and stood at the rail, letting the sea wind cleanse the stench from their nostrils.

For indeed, they were no longer in the loch, but out in open water. The roll and pitch of the
Hector
was more pronounced, but the evening was calm. The women breathed in the salt spray in silence.

Their menfolk came to find them, and one by one, they drifted off to have their evening rations of salt beef and oatcake.

“Quite a beginning to the voyage,” Ian said as they sat with their backs against the longboat. He had polished off his meal in a trice. She was gingerly nibbling hers.

Anne nodded.

“Once everyone gets their sea legs, the sailors say, it will get better. The first day is the worst.”

“I pray they are right,” Anne mumbled fervently.

“You are worn out,” Ian said. “What you have had to deal with these last couple of days! Why don't you go down to the bunk and sleep? I'll stay up here….”

Anne's tender stomach flopped. “Nay!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I could not sleep down there! Please, Ian. Just bring me my cloak, and I'll sleep right here.”

Ian's forehead furrowed, but he did as she asked and brought her the cloak and a blanket, and made her as comfortable as possible on the deck. He settled next to her with his back propped against the longboat. Ian folded his arms over his chest, tipped his hat over his eyes, and let sleep
take him. Anne's exhaustion eventually drew her into a fitful sleep.

The chill of the morning brought Anne awake, shivering under her cloak. The sky was a leaden gray. Spray dashed over the bow and misted across the deck. Anne felt her stomach rise into her throat as the ship rose and fell beneath her.

Ian approached Anne with cups of water and half a loaf of bread balanced in his hands. He passed the cups to Anne, then sat next to her on the damp deck. Anne pulled the woollen cloak closer about her shoulders before accepting a piece of the bread.

“Did you sleep?” Ian asked.

Anne nodded.

“You look a bit pale. Are you all right?”

Anne swallowed a mouthful of bread and took a sip of water. The food seemed to help settle her stomach. “I think I will be all right.”

Ian smiled. “There are many who are not faring so well.”

“Don't I know it!”

“Have you enough to break your fast? I gave John MacKay some of our ration this morning.”

“Aye. This is fine.”

Anne looked out over the opposite rail. “It is terrifying. I don't know how the sailors get used to it.”

“What's that?”

Anne made a sweeping gesture with a hand. “Nothing but water. No land. No matter which way you look.”

Ian nodded. “Aye. There's no knowing where we are, out here in the vastness of the sea. Gives a man o' the land an awful feeling in his gut.” He forced a smile. “The captain knows where he is, though. So we'll have to trust him to get us across this great ocean and to our new home.”

Just then, Katherine, one daughter in her arms and the other two trailing along behind, came up to them. “Good morning,” she said politely.

“Good day,” Ian said, standing and doffing his hat.

Katherine shifted little Alexa from one shoulder to the other and stood with downcast eyes. After a moment, she said, “Last night, once I finally got the girls settled in our bunk… well, there was no room for me to sleep there as well. And I noticed that you had not come down to your bunk, so I thought I'd just rest there until you needed it….”

“Oh, Katherine,” Anne said, scrambling to her feet and putting a reassuring hand on Katherine's elbow, “you are most welcome to use our bunk whenever you wish. Isn't she, Ian? I wanted to sleep up here anyway, last night, in the fresh air.”

Ian nodded. “Aye, do not fret about that, Mrs. MacLeod. You did not put us out at all.”

Katherine smiled at them both. “Thank you. You're very kind. Hugh slept up here, on deck, but I could not leave the girls.”

“Of course,” Anne replied.

Christina pulled at Anne's skirt. “Let's go look at the Lady of the Ship.”

Anne's brow furrowed. “Lady? What lady?”

“The lady up there,” Christina said, pointing to the stern.

Katherine explained, “She saw the carving on the transom deck, above the captain's cabin.”

“Oh!” Anne exclaimed, understanding. “All right. We will go have a look. Is she very beautiful?”

Christina slipped her little hand into Anne's. “Aye. I think she's a mermaid.”

They made their way to the ladder that took them over Master Spiers' cabin. The ship scudded down one wave and lifted upon another in a slow, graceful dance with the sea. From this vantage point they could watch the salt spray curl along the bow and spread into a frothy wave on either side.

Christina gazed at the carving's face for some time. Anne wondered what she saw in it. To her, it looked like any of the women on the ship, the eyes watchful, expectant and wary. Anne glanced at the carving of the man on the opposite side of the deck. His bearded countenance was also familiar; his solemn face mirrored the settlers on the deck. Christina
seemed to pay him no attention at all. The “mermaid” held her fascination.

Anne gazed over the deck, then allowed her eyes to lift to the sails billowing above her. They swelled with the brisk breeze, carrying the ship along the waves like huge wings of a seabird. Anne imagined herself as a gull, skimming along the crests of the waves. She raised her arms, holding them outstretched, the sleeves of her frock catching the wind, and closed her eyes.

“You, there!” a voice barked.

Anne's brown eyes flew open. Her arms dropped to her sides. Master Orr was striding across the main deck toward her. Standing at the foot of the ladder, he snarled up at her, “Have you permission to be there?”

Anne replied, “The child just wanted to see the carving…”

“As I thought,” Master James Orr interrupted. “The captain doesn't need you lot tramping up there, disturbing him.”

A flush of anger rose up Anne's neck and into her face. She drew Christina to her side and she said evenly, “We were hardly doing the Highland fling up here, Master Orr. Now if you will excuse us…” She and the child descended the ladder, and leading Christina by the hand, Anne brushed past the mate, her head held high.

Anne returned Christina to her mother. The little girl's red hair was jewelled with tiny droplets so that she looked like a small mermaid herself. Katherine smiled and hugged her close.

“I suppose there are chores to be done below,” Anne said with little enthusiasm.

Katherine nodded. “Rebecca and Elspie have already begun. There are fewer who are sick this morning, I think. People have learned that if they get out on deck, it is better. Only a dozen or so are below.”

“Well, that's a blessing,” Anne murmured.

The women made their way through the settlers on the deck to do their part with tidying the hold. Anne paused at
the base of the ladder and listened. She blanched and turned to Katherine.

“What is that noise? Water running?” she whispered urgently.

“The crew has been manning the bilge pump throughout the night,” Katherine replied. Her voice was steady, almost nonchalant, but her eyes were wide.

Anne gasped. It felt as if a hand reached into her chest to squeeze her heart with icy fingers.

“The crewmen say ships always have water that comes in. It's normal,” Katherine said in a tight voice.

“Oh, aye?” Anne did not feel reassured.

As Anne went to empty a foul bucket toward the stern of the ship, a round-faced woman lying in a bunk caught her skirt and asked hoarsely, “Lass, could you bring me water?”

“To be sure,” Anne said. She hurried away with the filthy, acrid smelling bucket. When she came back a few minutes later she had a cupful of water for the woman.

“Many thanks,” the woman croaked before taking a sip. Then she begged, “Would you sit with me for a wee moment? My husband is up on deck. He cannot stand the air down here. It's hard to be here alone.”

Anne scrunched herself into the cramped space at the end of the bunk, angling her head so it wouldn't bump into the bunk above. “My name is Anne,” she said.

“Margaret. Margaret McLean. Where are you from, Anne?”

“The head of Loch Broom.”

A reedy voice piped up from behind Anne. “That's rugged country.” Anne swiveled her head in order to see a rather gaunt woman in the bunk behind and to her left.

“Aye,” Anne agreed, “but beautiful. I loved to watch the mist on the mountains in the early mornings.” Anne swallowed a lump that suddenly came in her throat.

“What I think I'll miss most is the sight of Stirling Castle,” Margaret mused.

“It is hard to leave,” the gaunt woman sympathized.

Anne blinked quickly two or three times and added, “And the loch had so many moods. It could be calm and friendly or violent and angry, depending on the weather.”

“Just like the men of Scotland,” Margaret quipped.

Anne and the gaunt lady both snorted. Then the gaunt woman said, “I hear that the New World is much like Scotland. I hope so. I hope it will be a good place for my Jean to settle.”

Margaret took another sip of her water and nodded. “They say, Isabel, it's a rough land, but with so much promise.”

“I pray we get there soon,” Isabel lamented. “The rocking of this cursed ship makes me so ill.”

“Would you not both feel better up on deck, in the fresh air?” asked Anne.

“Nay, lass. When I see those waves going up and down, up and down, my head turns to mush and my stomach jumps,” Margaret said.

“Would you like some water, too, Isabel?” Anne asked.

“That would be very kind, lass.”

“I'll fetch you a cup. Then I'd best be getting on with my share of the chores.”

“You're a good lass to stop and chat with us,” Margaret said, patting Anne's knee as she rose to go.

Anne was very thankful to be finished with the cleaning and out on deck again before noon.

Passengers gathered in small groups. Most sat, talking. A few sang. One group of men set up a barrel and challenged one another to arm wrestling contests.

Master James Orr's voice carried over the deck. “How is the crew supposed to do its job,” he complained loudly, “with such a crowd upon the deck? Why are these passengers not below?” He seemed to be addressing one of the crew. The lad shrugged miserably, murmuring a reply.

Some settlers scowled at the mate and began to make their way toward him. The mate dismissed the unhappy crewman, and turning on his heel announced, “I shall see the captain about this.”

Master James Orr strode to the stern and rapped on the captain's door; then he slipped within.

Passengers muttered amongst themselves. They had paid dearly to come on this voyage. They would not be treated like cattle, forced to stay in that dank hold the entire trip.