The Beothuk Expedition (19 page)

The girl had dragged herself a short distance after being shot, no doubt hoping to gain the sanctuary of the trees. Whether she had been dead when the knife pierced her flesh was impossible to say but I prayed to God that it had been so. I removed my neckerchief and covered her face before organizing the others in a search around the body. It took some moments for them to move and when they did it was with the dazed and wooden steps of men afraid of what they will find.

Froggat was the first to spot the footprint. It was the outline of a boot heel in a dried patch of mud. Nearby was a second imprint from a man's skin boot, much like that worn by Thomas Rowsell. And then there was a third. It was so insignificant that I failed to see it at first, but there was no mistaking the tiny mark of a child's bare foot, lightly embedded in the damp sand. I called Lieutenant Cartwright and he stared in dismay at the indentation. I estimated the child's age at no more than seven or eight years and when I said as much the full import of what he was seeing struck home. Grasping at false hope, he ventured that the child might have escaped into the forest. Escaped to what, I wondered aloud, with hungry wolves all around? In desperation he tried again, saying that other Indians might have fled to safety with the child. I could not share his optimism, if that was the word. There were no other footprints.

John Cousens finally put voice to what each of us was thinking— that Grimes and the two furriers were responsible for this atrocity. Cousens blamed himself for having recommended them in the first place. It was the remorse of raw emotion, felt by each of us in our own way. The lieutenant said nothing and was like a man turned to stone, crouched beside the tiny imprint with a fist pressed to his forehead. A moment passed before I spoke, saying that the blame lay only with those who had committed the crime and that it was now our duty to bring them to justice.

“But what of the child?” asked Reverend Stow. The shock of our grisly discovery seemed to have moved him to greater awareness. He may have been the only one amongst us who could not conceive of the worst. “Surely they would not kill such an innocent?” he said.

No, I thought, perhaps they would not. The prize would be far too valuable. Another morbid silence fell over us until Froggat intruded upon our dark thoughts, saying that as long as we lingered we lessened our chances of catching the murderers. He was right, but what were we to do with the body? We had no digging tools and we were too weak to use them if we had. Even the moving of rocks to cover her was beyond our physical ability. In the end we could only ask the chaplain to say a prayer for her departed soul, wherever it may now be. We stood with bared heads while he recited the burial verse from memory: “
Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth
.”

During the prayer I looked up at Lieutenant Cartwright. Sorrow and defeat weighed heavily upon his features. He had the look of a man whose spirit has been crushed, leaving him devoid of the fire and determination that had carried us so far on so noble a purpose. I bowed my head, unable to look into the face of his despair.

“
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be fulfilled. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
” Greening, bless his soul, could not keep from weeping. Even John Cousens ran a finger across his eye. Froggat and I had seen far too much pointless death to feel anything beyond anger and the desire for quick justice.

“
Blessed are they who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed, too, are the pure in heart, for they shall see God
.” The leaves whispered softly in the treetops, like nature's choir in the church of God's creation. The tall, white birch trees encircled us like solemn mourners, each a reverent and silent witness to what had passed below. The river played its endless hymn for all to hear.

Before we departed I sent Greening aloft to bring down the kettle. That it was placed there to attract attention I had no doubt, and in that final hour of our march to the sea I could think of only one thing—Sam Cooper's answer when I had asked him the purpose of the sewels, those tassels of birch that the Indians had hung from the trees. I heard his voice as plainly as if he were with me, saying they were meant to catch the eye “of what ye intends to kill.”

John Cartwright

My state of mind cannot properly be described; I do not have the words for it. I am now convinced that the men who perpetrated this evil deed were those whom I myself had hired to be our guides. And to make it all the more disheartening, I suspect that one of our own sailors was an accomplice to the crime. I have no proof of this but there is little doubt as to where the compass points.

The events that followed our discovery of the body have done nothing to lift my spirits. We came upon Nehemiah Grimes at Start Rattle, full of deceit and swearing that he had descended the river alone. I did not believe him for an instant, especially in light of the question that he put to me soon after. Men of his kind are never able to conceal their greed and so he asked me, as bold as day, how the reward of £50 might be claimed for a live Red Indian! God forgive me but I nearly struck him down.

As for the furriers, our returned crew had seen their bye boat sailing down the bay days before. I have not been able to determine why Grimes was left behind, but I will wager that it is a part of their scheme. Lacking real proof of the man's involvement, Mr. Squibb put the question to him directly. He received nothing for his trouble but blasphemous denials, for Grimes swears that he saw nothing of the furriers after he parted company with us. Still, I am convinced that Rowsell and Cooper have the child and that they plan to collect on Captain Palliser's reward. Whether they intend to include Grimes in the spoils is a question that must occupy the petty officer a great deal.

But in the name of Heaven, how were we to know that it would come to this? I am in anguish at the thought that our noble intention could be exploited in so base a manner. My heart grieves to think that they could have murdered and kidnapped for the money alone. Had I not seen it with my own eyes I would never have believed that such cruelty was possible. I have instructed Lieutenant Squibb to pursue the culprits without delay, as they may yet be caught if no further time is lost. To better serve this purpose I have given him command of the
Dove
, while I remain at Toulinguet with my brother to await the
Guernsey
.

It was my duty to inform Mr. Squibb that he has no legal basis for the arrest or detention of the furriers. They have broken no laws and all previous attempts to prosecute such cases have failed. Governor Palliser has drafted a proclamation but London has yet to act upon it. And so Squibb is tasked with reclaiming the child only. He has been given a free hand to do what he must, even if I have little hope of his success. There are a thousand coves and rivers along this coast that will hide a boat, and these villains are able to disappear into the forest at will.

So there the matter lies. The expedition that was entrusted to me has failed, and in so spectacular a manner that I wonder at what the governor will say. Nothing can put it right, not even the unlikely possibility of Squibb apprehending these men. It will not alter the fact that I have gone to the very heart of this island without laying eyes upon a live Red Indian. To say nothing of making peace with them. And the reward that we have been trumpeting along this coast has now become an enticement to further violence. It is no less than the fruit of a poisoned seed that we had so carelessly planted. Mere words cannot describe the darkness into which my heart has descended. The devil himself could not have engineered so perfect a disaster, nor so complete a humiliation.

Jonah Squibb

I regret to say that much time was lost in convincing Lieutenant Cartwright of my plan. I believe his objections lay more in giving me command of the
Dove
than in the merit of swift pursuit. Every moment of delay jeopardized our chances of finding the furriers and rescuing the child, and it was not until John Cousens intervened on my behalf that he relented, and even then, reluctantly so. Under duress he also agreed that Grimes should come with me, for I had reason to believe that the facts of his involvement would be made clear when we caught up with Cooper and Rowsell. I was convinced that Grimes knew the truth of what had passed on the river. Whether he had knowledge of where the furriers had taken the child was more difficult to say, for I suspected them of intending to cheat him. The rest of the crew believed that he had been complicit in the crime, and if that were not enough, they soon had another reason to despise him.

We found the
Liverpool
frigate departing Toulinguet as the
Dove
entered the harbour and we bespoke her as she was gathering way. Her master was on the quarterdeck and he said they were still searching for the French brig, which might have been a phantom for all they had seen of her. Froggat asked after his messmates and was told that all were well and that the news of his recovered health would be well received. He also asked the master if his sea chest had been put ashore with him at Bonavista. The man said that it had, most assuredly.

It was the answer that Froggat had suspected. Six months of his pay had been in that chest, which did much to explain where Grimes had gotten his ready cash. I took it upon myself to question Jenkins and Rundle on this, and they were mute and evasive by turns. I could see the guilt in their eyes, however, or in Rundle's case, in his one good eye. The warrant officers were all for flogging the truth out of them but I resolved to bide my time. I would wait for proof, both of this and of the far more serious allegations against Grimes. As for Froggat, I was able to convince him that justice, like a good meal, is best enjoyed after some anticipation.

Despite my earlier suspicions of Rundle and Jenkins, I took note of their shock and revulsion on hearing of our murderous discovery on the river. However deeply they were under the influence of Grimes, I was certain they had no prior or later knowledge of that evil deed. Another matter that consumed me was the information imparted by Mr. Cartwright that Cooper and Rowsell could not be tried for their crimes, whether I returned them in chains or not. Incredible as it sounded, they had broken no actual laws. My reaction was astonishment, followed by bitter disgust to know that the beasts of the field enjoyed more protection from the Crown than did the Red Indians. Contempt for those in authority would not help the kidnapped child, however. I would deal with the furriers when I found them, but for now the immediate concern was the chase and how we were to go about it.

The only thing I knew with certainty was that they would head to a large settlement and attempt to collect the governor's reward. Any merchant or justice of the peace would pay them at least £25 on the knowledge that Mr. Palliser was offering twice that sum. Finding them before they sold their hostage would be the challenge, and a difficult one. I would push shallop and crew as hard as they would bear, but first I had to decide in what direction they had fled. The simple answer was east, given that nothing existed to the west save an occasional fishing station. But what route had they taken? They would have to keep out of sight as much as possible and yet stay close enough to shore to escape inland if the need arose.

These considerations pointed to a channel called the Reach, which lay south of Chapel Island and into Hamilton Sound, which was itself south of Fogo Island. If this was their course, I had the choice of sailing in direct pursuit or going north around the island and meeting them as they emerged from the channel. But if I chose the latter, I would have no way of knowing whether they had already traversed the passage or were still in it. On the strength of this alone I shaped a course southwest after we cleared North Toulinguet Island. My decision to take the Reach was a cautious one but I knew that we could easily overtake the smaller vessel in a day or two. The wind was in our favour, being northwesterly for a time, and then veering true west near evening.

We had no passengers for this voyage. The Cartwrights, with Atkinson, had elected to await the
Guernsey
and Reverend Stow was in no condition to carry on. Mr. Cousens had been obliged to return to his plantation, his servants being neglectful of work when left on their own. He was not pleased to leave us but in the end we parted company with many good wishes. We were eight in number on board the
Dove
and all hands were employed as lookouts from our first day at sea. Grimes was useless, of course, and Rundle and Jenkins were little better, having lapsed into one of their peculiar states where they seemed deprived of their senses.

It was Greening who spied a fishing room on the south side of Chapel Island that first evening. I ordered up the jolly boat and he and Frost went ashore to make an enquiry while I waited impatiently. They returned with news that was both good and bad; the fishermen had seen a bye boat heading east two days before and considered it strange that it hadn't called on them. They were uncertain of the number aboard but thought it was either two or three. The less welcome news was that the craft had been under a great spread of sail.

I swore up and down on hearing this. They had somehow jury-rigged the little boat with extra canvas, which meant they were travelling faster than I'd estimated. With two days' lead we would need to set every sail ourselves to overtake them before Bonavista or Trinity, or even Bay de Verde. But in speed lay the danger of bypassing them, especially at night. With this in mind I ordered the jib and topsail set but the mainsail taken in a reef, to keep ourselves in check. My discretion was not solely due to the thought of missing our prey. I was also concerned about sailing an unfamiliar passage in darkness, even with Mr. Cook's chart safely stowed in the cabin.

That night I learned that the Reach is subject to strong currents and variable winds. The shallop was set to heaving and swaying at the most awkward angles and there was little sleep for anyone on board. Part of the crew worked to trim sail and to keep the cargo from shifting, while others kept watch on our course and the shore to either side of us. When dawn came we were as good as worn out, though Froggat managed to rally the men and they stayed alert throughout the morning.