“A trader brought it in his canoe a while ago,” he said, “and called on two of us to help him lift it from the boat. But Cory, with no other aid, raised it by the edges, and, holding it close against his breast, walked up the hill with it. Never have I seen a man do such a thing before.”
Now I was glad to see that my company was to be of men of this stamp, not slow to use their strength. For, when by the closeness of the fight, sword and musket are of little use, a strong arm is very needful, and stands one in good stead, as I well knew.
As a lad I had been fond of feats of muscle. But I had had no time to devote to it since coming to Salem. For with the gathering of my company, the writing of letters to Sir William, and the reading of his in reply, most of my hours had been taken up. Now, it seemed, here was a time when I might, without seeming to boast, show my men that their Captain was no weakling. So I glanced about that I might propose some new test; for to lift the barrel of cider, or the gun, I did not count as sufficient.
It chanced that on top of the hill that gently led down to the brook there rested a boulder. It was of good size, and, in weight perhaps 400 pounds, and it was bedded in the earth. To raise it, and cast it from one might be no little task, even for one who boasted of strong arms. Therefore, seeing no other test that would answer, I pointed out the rock to Cory.
“Can you lift and heave it?” I asked. “You are of goodly girth, and the stone is not of such great weight.”
Saying nothing Cory walked slowly up the hill, and I saw that he had cast aside his jacket and shirt, and stood naked to the waist. I marvelled as I looked at his arms and chest. The muscles were in bunches, and stood out like hanks of wool on a distaff. Then, as he clenched his hands and opened them, to feel if his sinews were limber, the muscles played beneath his skin, as ripples do over the face of a pool, when the wind ruffles its surface. Still the stone was heavy, and if he lifted it and cast it he well might be counted a strong man.
Cory reached the rock, and stood over it a minute. He looked on all sides, seeking a fair hold, and, when he had perceived two small projections near the ground, where a man’s fingers might catch, he spread his legs, and stood astride the rock.
“I make no boast,” he said, looking at me, “and if mortal man may lift the weight, then I will move this stone from its bed. Though, doubtless, it has not been disturbed for a hundred years.”
He shuffled his feet, seeking a firm and level stand, and then, with an intaking of the breath, he grasped the rock, and put forth all his strength into a mighty lift. His sinews and muscles stood out under the skin, and were like to burst through, but the stone budged not. Once again did Cory lift and strain, but no avail. He straightened up.
“’Tis like that no man can move the rock, Captain,” he cried. “Perchance it is buried a foot or more in the earth. Yet, if it is to be lifted from its bed I will do it,” he added. Once more he took hold.