to the Far Blue Mountains (1976) (37 page)

"Some guns we merely spiked and in some we wedged cannonballs tight against the base of the bore, and hammered them home snugly with wooden wedges. Oh, we made a few sounds then, but those aboard were snug asleep after all their rum, and we not too much worried.

"What's needed now, Captain, I leave to you, but if it were me I'd draw Delve's teeth by taking what powder he has left. We'd not want him chasing after a ship that carries our mother and sister, although Brian can care for himself."

"Whose idea was it," I asked, suspiciously, "to go aboard at all?"

Kin smiled, "Why Yance's of course, but it appealed to us, too. Would you have had us done other than what we did?"

"You might at least have awakened me," I grumbled.

Kin chuckled. "It would have worried Ma. Then, too, you older men need your sleep."

He ducked when I struck out at him, and laughed at me with tender eyes.

I thought of my father, of Ivo Sackett. He would have loved them, too.

"Captain Powell?" It was a soldier at the door. "Captain Delve is coming ashore, and he has twenty men with him."

"Summon the company. Muskets charged and ready. I will meet them here."

So we took up our muskets then and went down to the water with Captain Powell, and when the men came ashore we moved in around them, with muskets and pistols, sixty men to their twenty, and all armed and ready.

Jonathan Delve was an older man now and the mark of Satan was on him. He started to bluster and threaten, but I spoke to him quietly.

"You'll surely remember me, Delve. You served under me once, and a poor sort of man you were. And by the look of you, you're no better now."

He started to speak but I cut him off.

"You'll threaten no man here, nor raise your voice on the streets of the town.

You and your men are prisoners, and Captain Powell will provide you with comfortable quarters while they go through your ship. We hear you've a spot of powder left, and we'll be having it."

"You'll be damned if-!" He started to bluster.

"It is you who'll be damned, Captain Delve. Don't threaten us with your guns. By now your men will have discovered that your guns are spiked."

"Spiked!" His voice was hoarse with rake. "You're a liar, Barnabas Sackett! How could-?"

"My boys are woodsmen, Delve. They were aboard last night." A movement caught my eye, and turning my head from him I saw a ship coming up the river. "Here comes your quarry now, with cargo for Virginia. You'll not mind waiting ashore until she's gone, will you, Delve?"

Now there was a hint of panic in his eyes. "What are you trying to do, Sackett?"

"It is not me." I indicated Captain Powell. "You must speak to this officer, or to the governor."

So they were disarmed and taken away to be locked up. We walked to the riverfront, the boys and I, to watch the ship come in, yet there was no joy in me to see her, fine craft though she was, for Abby would be going away, and my little girl with her.

Would Noelle have the gift? We had never talked of it, although sometimes she looked at me so solemnly, so strangely that I was sure she knew.

In the better of the several ordinaries that had sprung up, I was invited to a glass of wine with the governor, Sir Francis Wyatt. He gestured to a seat opposite him. "Captain Sackett, I hear you will be leaving us soon?"

"I will."

"Your wife, I hear, is returning to England?"

"With my son, Brian, and my daughter, Noelle. This is not the land to bring up a young woman, and my son wishes to read for the law."

"Commendable." He turned his glass on the table. "Sackett, if you will permit me? I have asked no questions as to your background or your reasons for settling here. You realize, of course, that the land you occupy is the King's?"

"I suppose that is the official interpretation," I replied quietly. "However, I must suggest a thought. The land lies in the realm of the Catawba. So far as I am aware none of that land has to date been purchased, nor has it been yielded.

Moreover, the Catawba has been a friend of the white man. At least," I added, "to the Englishman."

"What you say is true, no doubt, yet the grant given stretches to the western ocean. I do not wish to create an issue where none yet exists, Sackett, and certainly you have been most helpful. Most men under the circumstances would have demanded the highest price for their grain."

"It is not our nature to take advantage."

"You wish no favors in return?"

"None. If you wish, however, you might write some letters of introduction for my family, and especially for my son. It is not easy for a young man to make his way without friends."

"It shall be done. My family home is at Boxley Abbey. A letter will accompany your ship to England. I shall also address several members of the company on your behalf."

He leaned back in his chair. "None of us knows what the future holds, and by all appearances I shall be governor here for several years. It may be that we will again need your help."

"You have only to ask."

"Thank you. I would also take it kindly if you would keep me informed on any exploration you do into the mountains, or beyond them. And perhaps you can help us develop our relationship with the Catawba. I understand they are a strong people."

"They are among the most noted fighting men in the country, Sir Francis. And, as it happens, most of their enemies are our enemies, too."

I paused. "You understand, Sir Francis, that I left England rather hurriedly."

He lifted a hand. "Please! No more of that. You are a settler here. You have proven useful and helpful. I wish to know nothing more. I am a practical man, Sackett, and I am interested only in the interests of the colony." He glanced at me curiously. "You have been here a long time?"

"More than twenty years."

"You realize that, officially, no one has been here so long?" He refilled his glass. "Of course, for some time there have been stories of white men in the back country. You knew that, I suppose?"

"There were such rumors when first we came here, Sir Francis. I am sure that we were not the first. We found initials carved upon trees, and stories among the Indians of white men. And such stories were here before the lost colony of Roanoke vanished.

"Juan Pardo heard such stories. It is likely that Ayllon's captain, Gordillo, also did. Estevan Gomez was along this coast in 1525, and contributed much to the mapping of it. And I have had access," I said, "to many maps. No matter how far back you go, you still find rumors of white men. It is obvious the sea was crossed many times, perhaps continually over long periods of time. The Phoenicians never divulged their sources of raw material or trade goods."

We talked long, and Sir Francis asked many searching questions about the soil, the game, the minerals. I told him we had found but little gold, but several mines of both iron and lead, and that we cast our own musket balls and manufactured our own powder.

When I returned to our cabin, Pim Burke was waiting for me. He looked uneasy, and that was unusual.

"What is it, Pim?"

He looked shame-faced, then said, "Barnabas, I-" he paused. "Well, I have been offered a post. I shall be clerk and interpreter, and do some trading as well.

There's a grant goes with it, Barnabas, and I'm growing no younger."

"None of us are, and I'd advise you to accept."

He looked relieved. "I don't want to seem disloyal-I mean, just when you are losing so much."

"Nonsense! If I had heard of it first, I would have suggested it to you. By all means, Pim, take it. You may be of more use to us here than at the colony.

Besides, I am thinking of going over the mountains."

"Well ... if you do not object, Barnabas. My first loyalty is to you."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "We have come a long way together, Pim. We are friends, you and I, and where we are you will never find a wife, and you should have one. You deserve one."

"Well, to tell the truth-"

"There's a girl?"

"A widow, Barnabas. Young, and with a bit put by, and I've a bit, as you know ..."

"By all means! But Pim ... ?"

He looked at me. "The emerald? I've told only one person." He suddenly looked shy.

"So be it, then," I said. "Let us keep in touch, and wherever I may be, Pim, you have a friend."

We shook hands and he went his way, hurrying a little as if he feared he might turn back.

That night I lay awake, having said nothing to Abby of Pim's going. She would regret him, regret his being from me, for he had been a good friend and loyal but I had been much put out these past months, seeing no future for him in what we did.

Land, yes. We had bargained with the Catawba for land, and he had his piece as I had mine, yet it is an empty life for a man alone, although it seems not so when a man is young.

Yet I wished he had not mentioned the emerald. We had found several ... he had one, I had four. Three of these I had given to Abby and one to Brian. They would serve as something in case of need, and any one of the stones was rich enough to buy an estate if need be.

Pim's emerald was not a large one, but struck me as exceedingly fine.

We had heard rumors of a few small diamonds being found in the lower foothills, but of this we had no positive knowledge.

At last the day came. Several times I had met with the master of the Eagle, a solid man, and by all accounts, a good seaman. I had twice been aboard his ship, and she was finely kept with a competent-appearing crew.

At dawn I was up and outside, looking at the weather. A fair day ... yet a gloomy one for me.

Abby came out shortly afterward and walked beside me. We stood at the river, saying nothing, my hand touching hers or hers mine. But no words came to us.

We talked of her returning, yet I think neither of us believed in it. There was still a chance the warrant for my arrest might lie dusty in some drawer to be taken out and used, and both of us knew that a frontier girl of ten does not become a great lady in three years or four.

At the end, we kissed lightly and she said, "Be careful, Barnabas," and little Noelle clung to my hand with tears in her eyes.

Brian stood tall, as I expected him to, and gripped hard my hand. "I will make you proud of me, Father."

"I am already proud," I said quietly. "Take care of your mother and sister."

The other boys stood around, looking awkward and feeling worse. Lila kept saying over and over that she should be going with them.

"You've Jeremy to think of," Abby said quietly, "and your own children."

"Come back, Abby," I said. "Come back."

"Wait for me, Barney, for I love you. I do, I always shall, and I always have since that very first night when you came in from out of the storm."

I stood on the bank then, and watched the Eagle sail down the river, and suddenly I knew in my heart with an awful desperation that I would not see any of them again.

Lila took my hand and gripped it hard. "They will be all right. They will be all right. I see a safe voyage and a long life for them."

She said nothing of me, or of my life.

Chapter
33

The place on Shooting Creek was not the same. Time and again I found myself turning suddenly to exclaim over a sunset, the dappled shadow of tree leaves upon the water or the flash of a bird's wing ... and Abby was not there.

The blue of the mountains seemed to draw closer, and more and more my eyes turned westward ...

Yet there lay the mountains, vast and mysterious, with unknown valleys and streams that flowed from out of dark, unbelievable distances, and always beyond, the further heights, the long plateaus, the sudden glimpses of far, far horizons.

Jubal slipped silently into the cabin as I sat over Maimonides, reading.

"Pa? There's talk in the villages. They're coming after you again."

"You'd think they would tire of it."

"You're a challenge, Pa. You don't realize how much, for their best warriors have tried, and they have been killed or suffered from wounds. You have become a legend, and some say you cannot die, that you will never die, but others believe they must kill you now, it is a matter of honor. They will come soon. Perhaps even tonight."

Jubal nodded, then he spoke suddenly, as if with an effort. "Pa? You don't mind it? That I am not like the rest?"

"Of course not. You're a good man, Jubal, one of the very best. I love you as I do them."

"Folks crowd me, Pa. I like wild, lonesome country. I like the far-looking places. It ain't in me to live with folks. It's the trees, the rivers, the lake and wild animals I need. Maybe I'm one of them ... a wild animal myself."

"I'm like that, too, Jubal. Almost as much as you. And now that your mother is gone, I could walk out that door and keep going forever."

We were silent for a time. The fire crackled on the hearth and I closed my book.

The firelight flickered on Jubal's face, and moved the shadows around in the back of the room, and my eyes wandered restlessly over the stone-flagged floor, over the hide of the bear I had killed in the forest on the edge of the rhododendrons. I remember I had recharged my musket and then slid down the rugged slope, where flowering sand-myrtle cluug to the crevices, to stop beside the carcass of the bear.