CHAPTER XIV CROATAN
For long days and nights we rocked to and fro, rising and falling with the waves, only the blue water stretched around and about us. No vessel, no land in sight, nothing but water, water, water all around, and afar the distant horizon as it seemed to stoop and blend with the ocean.
The second morning out I stood leaning on the rail, gazing far out in front of me. "Ugh," said someone, and raising my eyes, I saw standing near me a savage, red and fierce in his paint and skins, the feather of an eagle in his coarse black hair, his dark gleaming eyes upon my face. It was the Indian whom I had seen with Raleigh one night at Lady Wiltshire's.
Margaret had sat by me that evening, and had been kinder than her wont. Several times as her clear laughter had rung at some jest of mine, I had seen the piercing eye of the Indian wander from Lady Wiltshire, who was questioning Raleigh about him, and rest for an instant upon Margaret's face, wonder and admiration upon his own; and then meeting my eye, he had turned his face hastily away.
Sir Walter, on leaving, had halted by us an instant.
"Manteo has been spellbound by thy wondrous beauty, Lady Margaret," he cried gayly. "Thou hast added one more victim to thy long list," and he cast a teasing look at her.
A slight flush had crept into her pink cheeks at his words.
"Since when hast thou turned flatterer?" she cried, archly tossing her golden head. "I had thought thee more sincere, Sir Walter."
I thought of that merry evening, as I saw the Indian upon this vessel.
He uttered some guttural words in his native tongue, a few of which I understood, the dialect being very similar to the one I had learned upon the island Eldorado, although some of the words were different. I could not put the words together that I understood. There were the words "night" and "maid" that I comprehended, but I could make no sense out of the two, so I shook my head, and tried a few words in the language of the natives of the island.
He seemed much excited when I spoke to him in something that resembled his native tongue, and stalking forward to where a group of men stood, he said something to one of them, and catching him by the sleeve, conducted him to where I stood. The man was a strange-looking individual, with pale hollow cheeks and little green cat eyes, that could not meet my own, but shifted to and fro whenever they caught my look; gaunt and hungry he seemed as he stood in front of me, dressed in a long black doublet.
The Indian, grave and stately in his skins, spoke several words rapidly in his own tongue.
The man translated. "Manteo would know where thou didst learn a language that resembles his own?"
"Tell him that I learned it long ago in another region—perhaps in the sun," I answered; "who knows?"
"What foolery is this?" said he, and as he spoke to the chief again, he sniffed indignantly.
"Translate what I have said," I replied sternly, "without any more words, or by the gods, I will teach thee a lesson that thou shalt not forget," and I frowned at him.
His knees quaked under him at this, and he spoke to the chief quickly in his own language.
"Ugh," grunted the savage, his fierce eyes upon my face, and again he uttered a few words.
The white man interpreted. "Where is the beautiful one, who sat with the white chief in the lighted wigwam many moons ago, when Manteo saw them in the camp of the pale men?"
"Tell him," I said, "she is far away, and I am alone." He did so.
"And now," I said to the white man, "who art thou?"
"John Marsden," he answered, cringing low, "a poor apothecary at thy lordship's service, who seeks his fortune in the new region beyond the sea."
"And how camest thou to know the Indian's language?" I said sternly. "Answer me that."
"I have been in the household of Sir Walter Raleigh for the last two years or more," he replied, "where the savage was; and having little to do much of the time, I amused myself by learning the native tongue. I expect it to be of service to me in Virginia." And he bowed with a pale smile upon his hollow face.
"I doubt not that thou wilt find it so," I said, turning my back upon him, for I distrusted his knavish face. If ever Dame Nature had stamped upon a mortal countenance the brand of a rogue, that one was John Marsden.
I saw much of the Indian in the long days and weeks that followed; he had taken a strange fancy to me, and dogged my footsteps, as though he were some tame animal, and I his master. One morning he brought me a little basket that he had cut in the shape of a wolf's head from a nut. As I looked at the beautiful carving, I realized how much work and labor it must have cost him, and was touched by his thought for me.
"The Eagle is pleased," said the Indian.
"Yes," I answered. "I thank Manteo, and will wear it around my neck," and I fastened it in the little gold chain with the coin and trinket of my lady.
The savage's eye flashed with pleasure.
"It is well," he answered, a look of delight passing over his dark face for a moment, as a bolt of lightning flashes for an instant over the lowering clouds, and then vanishes. "It is enough." And as though ashamed of his emotion, he left me, and disappeared down the companionway.
I learned to speak the tongue of Manteo; it was very like the one that I had learned before. I amused myself by talking with the Indian, becoming more fluent in his language. We had grown to be fast friends, and I had begun to think much of him. He was a strange creature; he never forgot a kind word, and he loved his friends almost to idolatry, and despised his foes with a deep implacable hate, that was a revelation to me.
He called me "the Eagle." Why I never knew, unless it was from some fancied resemblance that he thought he saw in my face to that bird.
"Why dost thou call me the Eagle, Manteo?" I asked him one day.
"My brother is like the Eagle," he answered gravely; "he flies far above the dull realms of earth. The Eagle is the chief of birds, lordly and courageous, even as my brother is a chief among his fellows," and he scanned my face with his dark eyes.
"Manteo is mistaken," I answered with a laugh, "I am no chief."
"Manteo was not born yesterday," he replied. "He knows the royal blood when he sees it. My brother is a great chief."
I did not reply; if he chose to think me a chief, well and good; and rising to my feet, I walked to where Governor White stood, looking out over the water.
"Governor," I said, "hast thou an extra hatchet that thou canst spare me?"
"Surely," he replied, for he was a kindly, thoughtful soul, ever ready to lend a helping hand to his friends. "Sam," he shouted to one of the sailors who stood near, "get thee down below, and bring up one of those new hatchets. What dost thou want with it?" he asked gently.
"I wish to give it to the Indian," I answered. "It will please him much."
He smiled sadly. "Thine is a strange fancy," he said, "that thou shouldst love the savage."
"He is a man," I replied; "a true and noble soul, stripped of all the dross that eats and corrodes the pure metal from the heart of his brother, the white man, who calls himself his superior. He has not learned to forsake his friends when they have fallen into misfortune, or to crowd with fawning smile around the great and powerful. He has much of worth, Governor, that we, who laugh at his barbarous ways, might do well to imitate."
"Yes," he answered absently, his eyes fixed upon the distant horizon, "he has much of good in him.
"I was thinking of my little granddaughter, Virginia," he continued wistfully; "she will be three years old in August, a bright happy baby when I saw her last. Now she is just beginning to totter around and to lisp childish prattle—that is if the savages have not murdered her with all the rest of the colonists. Often at night, during the two weary years that I have been in England, endeavoring to get men and ships to sail back, have I awakened, dreaming she was being slain by the Indians, with her screams in my ears, her baby hands clutching my garments. Even now I fear to touch foot upon the island, afraid that they are gone. It is terrible, Sir Thomas—awful," and he shuddered, his face pale. "If I should find them alive and well when I arrive, I shall thank God upon my knees.
"But here is thy hatchet," he said, as the sailor appeared with it in his hands. "Only take care that thy friend does not brain us in our sleep," and he tried to smile at me.
"Have no fear," I answered, "I will vouch for him." And taking the weapon in my hand, I retraced my steps to where I had left Manteo.
He still sat alone where I had left him, for he would have naught to do with most of the men; only with White and myself, and one or two others, would he mingle at all, the others he treated with cold scorn and contempt. His head was upon his hands, as I approached him and seated myself opposite on the deck.
"Manteo, I can give thee naught that is as valuable as the little basket that thou didst carve for me, but here is something that my brother can use and remember me by," and I put the bright new hatchet into his hand.
He glanced up at me, a look of wonder upon his savage face, for Raleigh would never allow him to have any weapons, fearing that he would become enraged at some fancied insult, and would kill his tormentor.
"Is it for me?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered. "It is for thee, a chief and warrior."
He took it in his hands, and felt of its sharp edge with his fingers.
"Manteo will never forget," he said. "The Eagle has treated him as a brave; these others think of him as a woman." With that he betook himself away, and in a few moments I saw him at the grindstone, putting a razor edge upon the weapon.
Save for the Indian and White, I saw little of my fellow-passengers; for in some way my story had gotten out among them, probably some of the men had seen me in London, and I felt the chill in their bearing towards me. As I would near a group of men laughing and talking, the noise would cease, and they would stop to peer and whisper, until I had passed on. They said no word, uttered no gibe; they knew of my swordsmanship too well for that. Wonderful stories had been told of my valor and daring; of my matchless skill with the sword in the great fight with the Spanish Armada. So they feared to cross me, they could only gaze and whisper among themselves. That was enough though, and I shrank from contact with them as though they had the plague; only White, kind and gentle, ever the same, and the Indian remained.
White had spoken to me of the rumor only once. One night as I strode the deck impatiently by myself, for the Indian had gone below to mend a broken arrow, the Governor joined me. We had talked of different things, until finally he had said gravely:
"These stories that have been circulated about thee, Sir Thomas—they are false?"
"Yes," I replied quietly, "they are lies of the whole cloth."
"I am glad," he said gently. "I should grieve if they had been true of so gallant a gentleman," and then he had turned the subject to other things. He had never spoken of it again.
The Indian had observed the demeanor of the men too, though he made no sign. Once when I stood moody and dejected, alone and apart, oppressed with the bitterness of my life, he came up noiselessly to where I stood, and touched me upon the arm.
"The curs bark at the heels of the gray wolf, the monarch of the forest, but they dare not touch him, lest they feel his fangs." And looking down into his dark eyes I knew that here at least was one who understood, and in his savage way sympathized with me, and I was comforted.
Much company had Manteo been to me during the long winter nights, when we sat in the cabin together; I, busy polishing my sword or mending my belt, he sitting opposite, the long stem of his pipe between his lips, blowing out the curling wreaths of the fragrant tobacco from his teeth. Wonderful tales would he tell as we sat there; tales of savage warfare and of the chase; strange stories of savage love and hate. How when a young brave would wish a squaw from among some neighboring tribe, he would steal out and capture her by force or cunning, and carry her back with him to the lodges of his people; how they hunted the savage bear and panther among the trackless forests.
Sometimes White would drop in to smoke a pipe with us, for I, too, had learned to love the soothing weed, and we would both sit solemnly puffing at our pipes, the room white with smoke, as Manteo would recount some marvelous adventure, or chant some savage song, while in our ears still rang the deep roar of the restless sea.
It was on the first night that White came, when opening the door to his knock, I spied underneath his arm the sparkling handle of my gold-hilted sword. With a cry of joy, I took it as he held it out to me.
"How camest thou by it?" I asked.
"Sir Robert Vane sent it to me the day before thy coming on board," he answered, "and bade me give it to thee upon thy arrival. I crave pardon that I have not returned it before now, but in truth I have been so busy that I have not thought of it once. It is a splendid sword, and one worthy of thy valor."
"'Tis a good bit of steel," I answered, "and has served me well, for which I prize it much, and have grieved that I had lost it. But sit thee down, and hear the Indian tell of his strange country."
White took the proffered seat, and listened with grave face to the tale of the chief.
The apothecary, John Marsden, I had met often upon the deck. I had seen him moving among the men, talking and gesticulating, and it was after these talks that they had cast the bitterest looks upon me. So in some way, dimly, I know not how, I began to connect him with the matter. He seemed to be always friendly with me, strove to make himself agreeable, but even when he strove the hardest, his uneasy eyes would belie his pleasant words, and he made no headway in my favor.
One morning, rising early from my bed, while all the rest of the company were wrapped in sleep, I came upon him and another rogue, a carpenter, Hawkins by name, in earnest confab by the cabin. As I was about to turn the corner of the cabin, I heard my name called; peering out cautiously, I saw them standing with bent heads, only a few feet away.
Marsden was speaking, his thin, piping voice lowered to a whisper.
"We have been out three months, and thou still dost hesitate; dost thou call thyself a man, and yet fear to attack one lone mortal?"
"He is the devil himself," grumbled his companion, "and he will have with him, not only White, but his shadow, the savage. The men shrink from arousing them, for it will mean death to some of us."
"Fool," replied the apothecary, "creep upon him in the night. A thrust of the knife, and 'twill all be over. Thou shalt have a capful of bright gold when thou doest the work."
"It is well to talk about 'a thrust of the knife and 'twill all be over,'" grunted Hawkins, with a scowl, "but the infernal Indian, who sleeps in the cabin with him, one eye open, would be on thee by that time. A blow from that cursed hatchet that he hauls around with him all the time, and it will all be over with a vengeance. Thou art so anxious for it, why not do the job thyself, and keep the capful of gold that thou talkest of so bravely."
The other shrugged his shoulders.
"It is out of my line," he muttered; "had it been my work, I had done it long ago."
"Why not a drop of some powerful drug in his wine?" said the carpenter. "It would do the work full as well, and much quieter. He would die of some lingering fever, and it would all be well, no one would be the wiser; but this other, that thou speakest of, is a dangerous business."
At that moment footsteps sounded around the other side of the deck, and White came in sight. They had just time to separate; Marsden to lean upon the rail and gaze thoughtfully off upon the water; his companion to throw himself flat upon the deck, his cap over his face as though asleep, when the Governor reached them. He stopped to speak to the apothecary, for he had ever a cheery word for all, and I turned around and slipped away quietly to the stern of the vessel.
Here was a pretty kettle of fish. Someone, I knew not who, was plotting to kill me. I had three to watch now—Dunraven, DeNortier, and my brother Richard; each had some motive for wishing me out of the way; none of them were too good to stoop to any means to accomplish their end. The first two would slay me because they feared that I stood between them and the woman they loved; Richard, because he had some fear that in some way, I know not how, I would wrest the estates and title out of his hands. I knew not upon whom to fasten the guilt, for it might be any one of the three.
It was important that I should learn who was at the bottom of the matter, and turning I made my way back to the cabin which I shared with the Indian. He had just awakened, and was yawning upon his pallet as I entered; closing the door, I came forward to where he lay. At the first sound of my footsteps, he had turned his head quickly, and he now squatted upon the floor opposite, his black eyes restlessly roving to and fro.
"What is it?" he asked. "There is a cloud that hides the sun from my brother; let him speak."
"Manteo," I said, "wouldst thou save me?"
"Let the Eagle speak," he answered. "Manteo will do anything for his brother."
"Listen, then," I said in a low voice. "I have three enemies who have sought my life long, and but a moment ago, I heard the pale one, Marsden, speak to the fat carpenter, plotting my death. I would know which of the three it is that sets on foot this scheme; do nothing rash, only dog both of these men, search their cabins when thou dost get a chance, and let me know what thou findest. My brother must be as cunning as a serpent, for he tracks those who are subtle and wary."
"Manteo understands," he answered, his face brightening. "It shall be as my brother says," and he glided silently from the room.
Three days had passed, and still the Indian had said naught. I knew he was at work, silently, quietly following the conspirators, for once as I turned the cabin upon the deck, I had seen a sudden shadow upon the floor but as I looked around I had discovered nothing. I knew it must have been Manteo, for no one else could have vanished in an instant like that. Out of mere curiosity, I searched everywhere for him, for I knew the savage Indians prided themselves upon their skill and cunning. I peered into every nook and cranny, looked behind every box and barrel, but as well look for last year's flowers or the frost of a winter ago—he had vanished. I knew that he would say nothing until he had found some trace of what he sought, and so I waited in patience.
I had walked about the deck most of the morning and was weary. It was near noon, so I made my way to the cabin where I dined by myself, unless White or the Indian ate with me. My dinner sat hot and smoking upon the table as usual, and by it the customary bottle; for the Governor kept me supplied with his own wine, and as fast as I emptied a bottle (which was but slowly, as I drank sparingly) I found a fresh one at my plate. A little piece of paper lay upon the table. I picked it up and looked at it.
"A bottle of my best wine; see how thou dost like it."
"White."
I picked up the bottle. It was dusty and covered with cobwebs, and upon it was the label, "La France, 1408." I seated myself, and taking the bottle in my hand, looked at it. It was a mellow liquid, yellow and generous with age. Over one hundred and fifty years ago, some hand long since gone had pressed the grapes, and laid the bottle away for some unborn man to quaff in the ages to come. It was too good wine to gulp down with my food; I could wait until I had finished dinner, and sip it at my leisure.
Putting the bottle down, I went to work with a will at the platters before me. A pleasant sigh came from my lips. I had finished my dinner, and a pleasing feeling of languor and content swept over me—that thoughtful, expansive sensation, that we only experience after a good meal, when we are in a mood for thought and reverie, at peace with the world and ourselves. Talk about a clear conscience! It may be a great thing to make thee feel happy and contented, but if thou canst not have that, by all means, my friend, have that next best thing, a full stomach, and an hour to muse and ponder over life and all it contains.
It was in this retrospective, peaceful mood that I pushed aside my plate, and tilting my chair back against the wall, fell to studying the label upon the bottle, and watching the light as it glistened upon the wine, as I turned the bottle this way and that. No such liquor as this had I seen since I drank the wine of the King of Spain with DeNortier, that night in the far-away isle of Eldorado.
Opening the bottle, I poured out a glass of the noble fluid, and held it up to the light; it sparkled as though it held imprisoned within itself the sunlight of merry France. Such wine was for kings and nobles, and not for a friendless and forgotten man, alone and deserted; it should grace the banquet board where mirth and laughter rang, and the toasts were drank to the clink of the glasses.
The goblet still stood upon the table in front of me, as I sat there. Idly I jostled the wine to and fro in the bottle, as I absently toyed with it. I started abruptly. What was that? A little grain of some white substance for an instant rose to the surface, and then sank out of sight as though eager to be lost from view. A sudden thought came into my mind, and like a flash I turned the bottle upside down. Yes, in the bottom, clinging to it, was some whitish powder which had not yet dissolved in the liquor. It was some poison I doubted not. The villainous Marsden had taken the hint of the carpenter, and had chosen the quieter way.
At my feet lay a great black cat, which White had brought out with him from England, and which had grown quite friendly with me. Leaning over I took from the platter, in which lay the remains of my meal, a bit of meat, and dipping it into the glass, I threw it to the animal. She snatched it up greedily and gobbled down most of it; then lying down again, she resumed her nap. I sat there silently watching her; five minutes she lay there, asleep. Perhaps after all I had been mistaken, had misjudged the man—but no, with a wail of agony the cat sprang to her feet, and with staring eyes and trembling body began to run around the room, uttering cry after cry of dumb brute pain. For a minute she ran thus, and then sinking forward on her paws, she lay quiet. I touched her with my foot—she was dead.
And so I would have been by this time, had I not tardily delayed drinking the wine. Would have lain cold and stiff in my agony, with outstretched limbs and staring eyes, for the powerful drug lost no time in accomplishing its deadly work. Rising I took the bottle and glass in my hand, and carrying them to the window, cast them out into the ocean, and as I did so the door opened and the Indian appeared. At one glance he took in the room, my pale face, and the dead cat, as it lay in the middle of the floor.
"What is it, my brother?" he asked.
"The pale one has poisoned my wine," I answered. "It was only by chance that I discovered it in time; and to make sure, I soaked a piece of meat in the wine and gave it to the cat. Thou canst see the result," and I pointed to the animal.
The Indian's eyes flashed.
"The pale one shall suffer," he answered, "let not my brother fear. Manteo will, when the time is ripe, bury his hatchet in his skull, and his scalp shall dry in the lodge of Manteo."
"Do nothing rash," I said, "the time is not yet ripe."
He grunted, and opening his clenched fist, extended to me a little piece of paper, that he had held concealed in his palm.
"Let my brother look at the magic paper," he said. "I found it in the mantle of the pale one."
I took it—only a line. "Be wary and vigilant; he has the nine lives of a cat. Make sure that he does not escape thee this time." No name or address, but I knew the crest on the paper; it was Dunraven's. So this was his work. To be sure I might know his hand; he was a master at such as this.
"Watch them still, Manteo," I said. "At any moment they may try to cut my throat."
Not a muscle of his face moved as he replied: "Manteo will watch."
I walked up upon the deck. Marsden was standing with his back to me, talking to Governor White. At the first sound of my voice he started as though he had been shot.
"I thank thee most sincerely for the noble wine which thou didst send me, Governor," I said. "It was worth a king's ransom."
The Governor smiled gently; plainly he was ignorant of the plot to poison me, and pleased at my praise of his wine.
"'Twas a bottle of some old wine that I bought in Paris years ago. I had forgotten that I had it, until I discovered it a day or two ago, covered by the cobwebs and dust. I thank thee, sir, for thy praise of it," and he bowed.
Marsden, his face ghastly, was still looking at me as though I were a ghost; plainly he had never thought to see me again on earth.
"Master Marsden is ill," I said to White. "Perhaps he needs some wine. And now I think of it, there is some of that wine of which we have just been speaking in the bottle. It would help him to quiet his nerves." And I turned as though to go down for it.
"No," he murmured, his cheeks like chalk. "It is a mere headache, which I have had all day, and which struck me with a sudden twinge. Do not trouble thyself about the wine, Sir Thomas."
"It is no trouble," I replied politely, and I made as if to hurry down the companionway.
"No!" he shrieked. "I will not have it. It always unsettles me," he continued apologetically, lowering his voice to its ordinary tone, "and for that reason I cannot touch it, when I have these headaches."
"Oh, well," I replied, "if thou wilt not drink it. But, pray, what causes these headaches, some sudden shock or disappointment?" I was delighted that I could taunt him thus; each sharp thrust that I gave him was as balm to my soul.
"No," he answered, a gleam of anger in his green eyes. "When I see some foul and loathsome creature it always affects me thus," and he smiled his ghastly grin. With this parting thrust he left us, and shambled forward to where the men stood.
A little knot of them were coming forward now to where we were, the leader, the carpenter Hawkins, a pace in front of them. When they were almost in reach of us they halted.
"What is it?" asked White, his kindly face grown stern and harsh, for there was something different in the appearance of the men. They had lost their quiet and sober expression, and in its place there was a look of anger and determination.
The carpenter spoke, his words humble enough, but there was that in his tone that seemed to make his request a command. Behind him, on the deck below, the whole body of the men, adventurers and sailors, were gathered.
"We have a favor to ask of thee, Governor," he said, twisting his hat between his fingers.
At his first words I had drawn my sword, and putting my fingers to my lips, I gave a low whistle, the signal that Manteo and myself had agreed upon should there be trouble. It had come like a flash of lightning from a clear sky, without a word of warning; for I guessed that Marsden was at the bottom of the whole thing, and that I was to be the bone of contention.
"What is it?" answered White sternly, looking at Hawkins.
"The whole crew wishes to know whether these charges against Sir Thomas Winchester are true," he growled, glaring at me sideways from under his bushy brows. "If it be so, Governor, what they tell of him, he is not fit company for honest men," and he spat upon the deck viciously.
"Since when hast thou been appointed ruler over us?" asked White. "Begone! lest I hang thee from the yardarm," and he motioned him back with his hand.
"All this is well said, Governor," sneered the fellow, his face black with rage, "but we would know the truth—we are men."
"Leave me to deal with him Governor," I said. Stepping forward, I faced him. "Hast aught to say against me?" I asked. "If so speak it to my face, thou cur, and do not sneak behind my back. Come, draw steel, and we will settle the matter now."
But the fellow plainly had no desire to face me alone, and drew back a step.
"Fair play, men," I shouted to the crowd below. "We are all honest men of England, and have fought and bled for her; this rogue has a grudge against me, and yet he fears to face my steel. With your hearts of oak to see fair play, I will meet him."
A murmur arose. "What of the rumor, sir?" cried a weather-beaten old tar.
"'Tis false," I answered. "As I expect mercy from my God at the last day, 'tis false, instigated only by my enemies. Come, ye are men, sturdy and true. You will see fair play—for an old soldier of England."
A dozen voices arose. "Give the gentleman a show—stand back—give him a chance. Let him fight Hawkins." And a score of men sprang out from among the throng. "Clear the deck!" they shouted. "All come back but Hawkins."
As the cry rose, those who had stood by the carpenter turned, and crept one by one back down to where their fellows stood, until only I and Hawkins faced each other. The fellow was no coward, whatever his faults; he knew that he was nothing like my match with the sword; knew that I would kill him without any mercy like a dog, and yet he stood his ground, his cutlass, which he had drawn, in hand. He would have retreated at that last moment, could he have done so without showing the white feather; but there was no way to do it, and retain the respect and admiration of his fellows, and losing these, his power would be gone. He had advanced too far to back down now, his only safety lay in fighting to the end. There was naught else left.
"I will end thy trouble for thee," he growled, as he made ready.
"Better men than thou have tried and failed," I answered. "The foul creatures of the deep shall feast upon thy body this night," and I moved forward to cross blades.
But as I did so, there was a quick rush of soft feet, a shout from White, and with a groan Hawkins fell, a gleaming hatchet buried in his skull; beside me stood Manteo.
A cry went up from the men, and then died away. White sprang upon the rail.
"I warn all to return to their duty," he shouted. "But fail for an instant to obey me, and I shall turn the culverins upon you. Those who escape them will hang in chains. Disperse instantly, or else a worse thing shall befall you."
An instant the mob wavered; they needed only a man of spirit to lead them upon us, but their leader lay dead, and there was none to take his place.
"Dost hear me?" roared White, "or shall I fire?"
They hesitated for an instant, and then broke and scattered, the sailors to their work, the rest to their tasks, whatever they might be. The mutiny had blown over.
White descended from his perch.
"It was a close shave," he said as he neared me. "A little more and it would have been good-by for us. That stroke of thy red friend was the best thing that could have happened. Nay, scold him not, it was at the right time, and probably saved our lives. Manteo has done well," he said to the Indian.
"It is good," proudly answered the chief. "He would not see his brother imperil his life against such a dog as this."
"Bill," shouted White to one of the sailors who stood near, "do thou and Sam fasten a solid shot to this fellow's feet," pointing to the carpenter, "and cast him overboard." And he walked away.
As I made my way down to my cabin, I ran full into Marsden, who crouched down behind the ladder.
"It is awful," he groaned; "much innocent blood will be shed, and I hide my eyes from the scene."
"Get out!" I said, giving him a kick with a right good will, which sprawled him on his face in the middle of the floor. "Thou needst have no fear; the storm has blown over, and thy precious head is safe." And with that I left in disgust.
We were now nearing the shore of Virginia. For the last day the boughs and barks of trees could be seen on the water, and this morning about five o'clock, the man had called out from the mast the magic word "land." In a few moments the decks were crowded with men, as with eager gaze they strained their eyes to catch the first glimpse of old mother earth, which for five months we had not seen. Away to the left of us, and several miles behind, could be seen the other vessels, following in our wake, as they had during the whole of the voyage.
By noon we had neared the shore, of what White told me was Roanoke Island, on which was a settlement of the colonists. No sound greeted our ears as we approached the shore, fringed with a forest of dark, unbroken trees. We fired our culverins and musketoons repeatedly. No answer—only the boom of the surf came back to us, and the woods re-echoed to the roar of the guns.
The Governor was standing by my elbow, his face distraught and anxious.
"Why do they not answer?" he groaned. "What has become of them?"
"Perhaps they have run out of powder and ball," I answered, "or probably they have strayed over to the other side of the island, and have not had time to come within shooting distance."
"I fear that they have been slain," he said gloomily, "for only about four miles around is the settlement."
We rounded the northern end of the island, which we had first seen, and passing into a broad bay of water, began to beat down the coast. The island was thickly wooded, and grapes and fruits in abundance could be seen from the ship. In an hour's time we had dropped anchor in a little sheltered cove, and firing our guns again, put out several boats for the shore.
"The settlement is only about a mile away, through yon trees," said White sorrowfully. "Some evil has befallen them, or they would have answered long ere this."
I did not answer, for I knew he spoke the truth, and in silence we rowed to the shore, accompanied by a strong party well armed with swords and musketoons.
We began our journey through the trees and tangled vines to the huts. It was hard work to keep the men in line; they had not felt the firm sod under their feet in so long, that they were almost beside themselves with glee. Twice we had to halt, while White and myself with drawn swords drove them away from the grape vines, where they had stopped, and back into line.
In front of the little column strode Manteo, hatchet in belt, his bow in his hand, with eyes fixed upon what seemed to be a dim trail, overgrown with grass and bushes; behind him walked White, sword in hand, his back bent with anxiety. I followed, and behind me in single file, trod the men, in dead silence, for the Indian knew not what instant we would come upon hostile savages, and the command had been given by White to march quickly and quietly.
The trail broadened here, and the chief stopped. Peering over White's shoulder cautiously, I saw in front of me what seemed to be a rough log stockade, some six or eight feet high, the walls pierced for the guns of the settlers. Above the fence I could see the top of several thatched huts, but no sound came from the settlement; silence deep and unbroken reigned. Only the call of some strange bird came to our ears. The Indian motioned to us to remain where we were, and throwing himself flat upon the ground, he began to crawl cautiously towards the settlement, taking advantage of every tuft of grass, and log of wood. Finally he reached the wall and disappeared from view.
It was several moments before he appeared again, gliding in silently like a shadow. "Come," he said, and turning he walked toward the fort, with us at his heels.
White had broken into a run, and had dashed past us through the idly swinging gate, and I heard him shout, as he reached the inside. He was rushing madly from hut to hut, searching each one eagerly, and then passing on to the next, his gray locks floating in the breeze. "Virginia!" he shouted, "Virginia! Come to Grandpa," and he raised his voice again and again, and called the child. No answer—only the taunting echo, "Virginia."
The settlement was deserted, and had evidently not been trodden by the foot of the colonists for months. The cabins were bare and uninhabited, with rotting floors, and sagging doors; the hearthstones had been cold for long days. The colonists were gone, and had left no trace behind them.
The old man, Governor White, had thrown himself upon the ground in anguish, and lay with bared head on the grass. He did not move when I approached him.
"Governor," I said, bending and touching him on the shoulder, "do not despair. We will search the country; perhaps they have gone to some more congenial spot, and even now await us. By inquiring among the Indians, we may find some trace."
"No," he answered dully, "our agreement was that if they should leave this spot they should carve upon some tree the name of the place where they had gone, and if in distress, they should cut above the name a cross—I find neither name nor cross. The little lass would be just large enough to walk about and babble her childish thoughts, so young and innocent, with curling locks and playful eyes. And to become the prey of some cruel savage or ferocious beast, or to die beneath the tomahawk, or at the stake," and he tore his gray hair with his hands wildly.
"Come," I said, gently taking him by the hand, and lifting him from the ground where he lay. "Thou must rest, and then we will begin our search."
At that moment there arose a loud shout, and the party, which had scattered in their search, all ran forward to where the Indian stood, surrounded by a throng of the men. White broke loose from me and ran at full speed to where they stood, I hot at his heels. Had Manteo found a moldering body of some of the unfortunate colonists, or had he discovered some token or message of their whereabouts?
Panting and breathless, I halted where the chief stood pointing to a tree, the body of which had been stripped of its bark, and which gleamed white and naked among its fellows. There, high up upon its trunk, in well-cut letters, was carved the one word "Croatan."