In spite of fairly good weather on our way southward we somehow over passed the latitude of Port Royal harbour; and of a Saturday in May—the fifteenth day of the month—we did cast anchor at a little isle upon the coast, in order to obtain wood and water for the sloop's needs.
This island is within the territory of the Spaniards, who have named it Santa Catalina. It lies some days' journey north of San Augustin,—the exact latitude I know not, although I have heard it more times than one; but there are some things that abide never in a woman's brain.
Here appeared many Indians, who seemed at first not unfriendly, and spoke words of welcome to us in the Spanish tongue.
Much trading was done aboard the sloop, and the barbarians appeared strangely content with strings of paltry beads and the cast-off garments of the crew, giving in their stead good provender, and skins of the wild deer dressed soft and fine.
The second day of our stay, Mr. Rivers, with the ship's master and three seamen, went ashore with such stuff as the Indians desire, to trade for pork and other provisions; and it being a Monday morn, Dame Barbara did crave leave to take her washing and go with them, in the hope of finding a softer water to cleanse the linen.
It was early morning; the breeze from the land blew sweet and fragrant, and the woods beyond the sandy beach bourgeoned in new leafage, green and tender. I longed for the scent of the warm earth, and the tuneful courting of bird-lovers in the thicket; so I prayed my uncle to let me go ashore with the dame. He acceded willingly enough; but Mr. Rivers, who is always over-anxious where my safety is concerned, counselled me earnestly not to leave the ship.
I was ever a headstrong maid, and the sunshine and the scent of far-off flowers had set me nearly wild with longing; so I chid him roundly for his caution and merrily warned him to beware how he sought to clip the wings of a free bird. Go I did, therefore, though he smiled and shook his head at me; and when we all parted company at the watering-place he seemed uneasy still, and, looking backward over his shoulder as I waved farewell, entreated me to wander no farther from the shore.
The little spring where they had left us welled up, cold and clear, at the foot of a tall cypress-tree, and trickled thence in a tiny stream, a mere thread of crystal, that tangled itself in the low bush and wound its way helplessly through the level wooded country, as though seeking for some gentle slope that would lead it to the sea.
The dame rinsed her linen till it fairly shone, and spread it out to dry in a sunny nook; while I lay prone on the warm earth and stirred up the damp brown leaves that had drifted into a tiny hollow, and found beneath them a wee green vine with little white star-flowers that blinked up at the sun and me. And I dreamed of the new home we would make for ourselves in this far country, and of the very good and docile wife I would be to my dear love. Then at last,—because I grew aweary at the prospect of my very great obedience in the future, and because, too, I thought it was high time my gallant gentleman came back to ask me how I did,—up from the ground I started, rousing the dame from a sweet nap.
"Look, Barbara! the linen is dry; the sun is on its westering way, and the shadows grow longer and longer.—'Tis very strange that Mr. Rivers and the master have not returned!"