to the Far Blue Mountains (1976) (17 page)

So we edged in close, and I caught a cape in my glass that had a familiar look, then a rivermouth and a queer tuft of trees, all marked on one of my charts. So I made us several days sail to the north of my thin sandy islands that divided the sounds from the sea at the place I sought.

Meanwhile, Lila made nothing of her story. She had barricaded herself in the galley with the keys to the storeroom in her pocket, and denied anyone entry or food until Handsel was in shackles and the key in her hands. Meanwhile she set to work to cook, letting the aroma of her cooking drift over the ship.

It has been said there were iron men aboard the wooden ships, and well there should have been-and for the most part they needed iron stomachs as well, to handle the cooking. Salt meat as hard as iron and biscuit full of weevils. Lila had cooked much for strong, hearty men and knew the weapon she possessed.

Two days it needed, and then they had brought her the key, led by a man named John Tilly, a fine seaman who liked not Handsel nor his kind. Although young, he had already been long at sea.

I was on the afterdeck, watching the sea, my glass ready to pick up any unusual thing upon the far waters, when Tilly came to me.

"Captain," he said, "we've a man aboard to whom you must speak. His name is Jago, and he comes from Anglesey as does the lass."

Something in his manner was odd, so I asked him, "Who is this Jago? Does he have a complaint?"

"None at all! From the first he stood beside me for taking Handsel. He is a fine seaman, Captain, and a good fighting man, but there is a strangeness on him at times and now there's a fear on him."

"A fear?"

"Of the waters ahead. He knows the coast you speak of, the place where we go. He has been in both the sounds and up one of the rivers, but it is the sea itself that he fears, the sea that lies off the coast of the place called Raleigh's land."

Of sailor's tales there is no end, nor of enchanted islands, vanishing ships, or mysterious places in the sea, and of this we who are of the Celtic race have understanding, so I had this Jago up to the deck and he was no kind of a priestly man, nor a poet, either, but a strong fellow of middle size with a square head upon a solid neck, and two fine, strong hands.

"You are Jago?" I said.

"So they have said since I was old enough to listen, and I've no choice but to believe them. However, one name is as good as another, and if you've another you like, call me it and I will come."

"Jago is a fine name, and it pleases me. Do you know these waters, Jago?"

"No, nor any man for long. They be not twice the same. But you are safe enough this week. Next you will be south too far. You must steer clear of fogs and land on no strange islands. You know there are islands?"

"I do. I spoke of them with a friend of mine named Peter Tallis. They were discovered by Juan de Bermudez in 1515, and are said to be enchanted isles."

"Well they could be. Where else does coral be found so far north? Where else so many dangerous reefs? Enchanted the isles may be, but they be a hell for mariners, with their ugly reefs rising unexpected-like from the depths.

"There and south of there is the sea of which I speak. Beware it. Many ships have vanished ... There's an opening there sometimes, it comes and goes, sometimes it is in fog, and sometimes a spot of bright sunlight, but those who sail through never come back. Beware of a day when there's no fish around, for then it's to open, and well they know it and off they swim."

"I'll take your advice, Jago. Now tell me, do you know a stretch of coast with long thin outer islands? Banks that form a natural breakwater for two great sounds into which rivers flow?"

"I know the place. 'Tis west and south ... two days more, I think."

"You've been there?"

"Twice, and once on a Spanish ship. I was a prisoner of them but spoke their tongue and am a good Catholic, so they used me as a seaman and I had freedom, of a sort ... until I escaped. If it is there you'll go, I can be taking you, and to whichever river you wish, for each has a different smell. One smells of freshness and the mountains, and two of swamps, and one of fish."

Far into the night I studied my charts.

It would be my second voyage to the sounds, and pausing in my study of the maps I thought again of that buried hulk in which I had taken shelter and where I had fought the alligator.

Whose ship might that have been? And what of its crew? If ships disappeared in these waters, as Jago said, then men vanished also. The Roanoke colony and Grenville's men ... gone.

Many were the tales that came from the sea, but I had little faith in enchanted isles or haunted ships or the like. Those were sailor's tales to be told in port to goggle-eyed landsmen, and rarely believed of themselves. Yet ... what Jago had told, Jago believed, and he was a no-nonsense sort of man, and a good seaman.

Many in the England of our good Queen Bess thought of this land as unknown, and indeed, much of it was, but where there are riches to be had, men will go, and the ships of Gosnold, Weymouth, Newport, and others had already cruised the coast. To the north were the ships of the French, and Cabot had sailed here, and Verrazzano, Corte-Real, and many another.

All the knowledge we had of such places was from the few men who could write and keep records, and how many could write? Among my crew, there were but three who could write, and if something happened to us, then what record could be left by the others?

I studied even my secret ones, which had far more detail, and I made a chart of my own from memory of what I had seen.

My plans must be simple, to be augmented with time. First, to find Tempany and Abigail, second to establish a trading post, third to cultivate friendship with the Indians, and fourth, to establish a base deeper into the country from which we could explore toward the mountains and to which I could retreat if a British ship with warrants for my arrest should come.

After a bit, I slept, awakening to go on deck for the morning watch. We had hove to during the night, simply taking in our sails and drifting.

Jago was on watch when I came on deck. "It will be a fair day, Cap'n, a fair day." He glanced at me. "Will we be making a landfall today?"

"Aye." I glanced toward the clouds that lay low along the horizon, and nodded to indicate them. "What do you make of them, Jago?"

"Cap'n," his voice shook a bit, "we'd better head in toward land. That's no natural cloud."

"Hail the men on deck," I said, "and shake out some canvas. Put a good man on the whipstaff for we'll be looking for our opening in the outer banks."

Taking my glasses, I studied the cloud. It seemed neither nearer nor farther off. The sky above was blue and lovely, but the white clouds, possibly a fog, lay close along the face of the sea, and once inside that cloud we should be able to go neither north, south, east, nor west.

The cloud hung there, turning slowly lighter as the sun arose. How easily, I thought, when the mind is prepared can one begin to believe!

It was only a cloud ... a bit of fog that would clear with the day.

Only it did not.

There was little wind, and we moved but slowly. I looked again at the fog bank and it seemed closer. Jago was staring at it, obviously frightened. With my glass I lifted a strong dark line, like a thread. Land!

"Aye," Jago said, "and none too soon."

Lila came on deck and walked to the rail and looked astern. As she stood there the fog seemed to thin toward the center and dimly we seemed to see an island.

A mirage? My chart showed no island there. It suddenly seemed clearer. Were those houses? Temples? I walked to the afterrail and stared.

"See it, Cap'n?" said Jago. "See? Look, but never speak of it, men will think you daft, as they have thought me. Look ... something moves! Do you see it?"

Indeed, I did, or thought I did. I pointed my glass toward it again, and the figures leaped at me. Men ... and women, all in strange costumes ... temples of a sort not seen before ...

"Captain," Tilly was speaking, "we're closing in on the shore. There seems to be an opening yon."

With an effort, I took my eyes away and looked shoreward. A long white beach, gleaming in the sun, a sandy shore stretching north and south as far as the eye could reach ... and yes, there seemed to be an opening.

"Jago?" I said. He did not turn and I spoke again, more sharply. "Jago!"

"Aye, aye."

Indicating the opening, I said, "Do you know that one?"

"I do that. She's shoal, Cap'n, but with the lead we can go in yonder."

He looked back over his shoulder, and I over mine. The opening in the mist had closed, the mist was thinning, the fair vision of a city was gone.

Was it a mirage? For a moment it had seemed we looked into another world, as through a magic window or door.

Was that where the vanished ships had gone? Through that door? Into that mirage?

Chapter
14

Cautiously, using the lead, I took the fluyt into the passage between the sandy islands, using only such sail as needed for steerage way. If we ran aground here and a storm blew up we would be at the mercy of wave and wind, and all my great hopes might vanish in what followed. If I ran aground, I wished it to be not too forcefully, that we might the easier escape.

Lowering a boat, we let it proceed before us, and thus found our way through and into deeper water, when we took the boat back aboard once more. Remembering my one-time meeting here with my old enemy Bardle, I had two guns prepared and gun crews standing by.

Blue, having the sharpest eyes, was posted aloft to look out for ships and savages, or any smoke which might hint of activity ashore.

Now that we were so close, Lila was silent, eyes wide with apprehension, fearful her mistress might have been killed, drowned, or otherwise lost. I scoffed at this, and kept still my own fears, for better than she I knew what dangers the country might hold.

Calling John Tilly aft, I told him I wanted the men to go below, two at a time, and arm themselves each with a cutlass, and then I wanted muskets charged and kept in a rack conveniently placed inside the door to the main cabin where they would be ready to hand.

Worried, I paced the afterdeck. I had armed myself with my sword as well as a brace of pistols, yet it was not of weapons I thought, for indeed, they were but a precaution. Captain Tempany was a fine seaman, and he'd a good crew aboard ... but supposing he had been overhauled and forced back by a Queen's ship because of his connection with me?

What if pirates had taken his ship? Or storms?

Hour by hour my anxiety grew, and still no sign of the ship.

Darkness came, and rather than venture on we let go the anchor to wait for daybreak.

The ship should be here, yet if I recalled rightly there were four big rivers flowing into the two sounds, and a number of lesser streams. There were any number of coves and inlets in which the ship might be lying. I tried to think of all the reasons we had not found her, all that could be done, yet nothing gave me rest.

Alone I stood by the rail, looking shoreward. Restless, unable and unwilling to sleep, I had told Tilly to let the crew rest and when I. Was ready to turn in I'd awaken one of them to take my place on lookout.

Hearing a step, I turned. It was Lila. She came to the rail and stood beside me.

"Will we find her?"

"I think so. If she is here, we'll find her."

"It is a vast land. I could not imagine it so big, so empty."

"There are Indians over there ... many of them." I paused. "Not so many people as in England, of course. The way they live, mostly hunting and gathering berries, roots, and nuts, they need much land to support only a few."

"They do not plant?"

"Some of the tribes do. They plant corn, a few other things. Mostly they live by hunting, fishing, and gathering, so they move from time to time, going to new areas where they can find more game, and more food."

"Our coming will change them, I think."

"I don't know, Lila. Perhaps it will. Yes, I believe it will, and perhaps not for the better. They have a way of life that is not ours, beliefs different than ours. We will learn much from them about this country, and they will learn from us, but I am not sure whether what they learn will be good for them.

"All I know is that it is inevitable. If not us, then somebody else, and all change is difficult, all change is resisted, I think. No people can long remain in isolation, and men will go where there is land, it is their nature, as it is with animals, with plants, with all that lives.

"Since the beginning of time men have moved across the face of the world, and we like to believe this is a result of our individual will, our choice, and it may be so, but might it not be that we are moved by tides buried in our natures?

Tides we cannot resist?

"Whole nations and tribes have moved, suddenly, always with some kind of an excuse. But was not the excuse sometimes found afterward? How do we know we make these moves by our own decision?

"Men like to believe themselves free from nature, free of the drives that move animals and plants, but wherever there is open space men will come to occupy it.