“And what is the business that brings you here?” the boy inquired boldly. The soldier’s twinkling blue eyes were so friendly that he no longer felt in the least afraid.
“A matter that I like none too well,” the man replied. “Since there are no wars for the King’s soldiers to fight at present, he must needs send us to the help of the royal navy. My business here is to seek out new timber for the English fleet. Too many of our good ships have been sent to the bottom by those agile Frenchmen, so that both the Old and the New England must give their wood that we may build our navy up again. This tree now,” he added, stepping back and measuring the tall pine with his eye, “’tis a splendid great fellow, and will make a worthy mast for the flagship of the Admiral himself.”
“No, no!” cried Stephen in alarm. “You would never cut down our finest tree, that my great-grandfather planted so long ago.”
“The King’s fleet must have its masts and spars,” returned the man, “and every tree that we take must have been planted some time. It is an old law and you in the Colonies should know it well, that no timber above a certain size shall be cut save for the English navy. King George has need of your tree, my lad, and, if I mistake not, King George will have it.”
“It does the King’s service here,” maintained Stephen stoutly, “and it shall not be hewn down and carried away to be destroyed in some foreign war.”
“Eh, and who are you to say what the King shall and shall not have?” returned the other sharply. “Even I, who am Sergeant Branderby of His Majesty’s army, have found it better, when the royal wishes run counter to my own, to let the King have his way. It is wiser so, boy; I advise no one to stand against the English government unless he would come to harm.”
Stephen was silent, digging his toe into the dust and wishing that he could find the words to explain his grievance. Down at the wharf lay the good ship Margeret and many another of his father’s and his grandfather’s vessels, that would cross the sea no more. It was the English boats that now did all the carrying and left the Colonial vessels idle at their anchorage. That staunch, swift Margeret, the pride of the whole fleet, had carried many cargoes of corn, furs and salted fish to England, Spain and France, had brought back silks and velvets, lemons and sweet-smelling spices, but she had made her last voyage! All this Stephen knew from the talk of his elders, but nevertheless found it hard to explain to the Sergeant why he thought it such an injustice that their best ships should be useless while, at the same time, their fairest trees should be cut down and carried away to build more vessels for the English. He could do nothing but repeat what he had said before:
“You shall not cut down our tree.”
He looked about for the other children, but they had long since grown weary of waiting and had scampered away. He was not to have even their help.
