The Conquest by H. Bedford-Jones - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

CHAPTER V.
 HOW THE "LASS" WAS DRIFTED.

On hands and knees, the deck beneath me groaning and pitching to the tossing of the great waves, and the howling wind still seeming to thrill those muttered words to me, I crawled on and with some difficulty brought the water to Grim, who thanked me in his own way. Then I rose and looked about.

Around the table were lashed my father, Alec Gordon, and Robin Grier, all arguing at the top of their tongues. In the bunks lay the others, or on heaps of padded canvas along the floor. Then I understood that the old stranger had gone to Master Herries' cabin, where the mate sometimes lay also, and was caring for the injured man. Besides Grim there were five other dogs lying around, but the womenfolk were all safe asleep in their own place.

I misliked saying anything to my father and old Alec, for fear they would disbelieve me. Had Ruth been there I would have sought counsel from her, and have gained it, too; but a notion came to me that the work might be done without a quarrel. Had I told my father the tale, he might have sought out the two men and cracked their heads together, likely getting a knife in him for it. So, without disturbing any of the three at the table, I caught hold on Grim and drew him out of the cabin.

The master's cabin, where were the old man and Wat, was but a miserable hole to one side of our main room, and had indeed been intended for some other use. It would be easy enough for a man to slip in and out again, I considered as I crossed the few feet of open deck to get to it, Grim holding back stiff-legged, in wild fear with each toss of the lugger. Then I cast open the door of the little place and went in, flinging Grim before me.

A roll of the ship assisted me in this, so that Grim and I went in together and fetched up against the old stranger, clean taking him off his legs. A ship's lanthorn swung above, and by its light the old man made out who we were, as we all rolled in the corner in a heap. For that matter, he had long since proved a better sailor than any of us on board, and now he was on his feet instantly, and soon had me up.

There was little room for others when the door was shut, and I saw that the old man had been lying in the mate's bunk when we came. Above this lay Master Herries, asleep in his own bunk despite all the uproar. Now, it had been in my mind to set Grim awatch, but when the old man smiled on me and asked my errand, I had blurted out the whole before I thought. At the story he threw back his head and laughed heartily, seeming to take it as a huge joke.

"Nay, lad, be not put out," he cried kindly, seeing that his laughter made me angry, and therewith clapped me on the shoulder. "I laughed not at you, but at them. Why, it is a rare jest indeed, their taking me for a wizard and thinking me overside—belike it is the work of our friend, Gib, too. Bide you here, David, and methinks we will carry out that jest somewhat."

Pushing me and Grim into the corner, he reached up and blew out the lanthorn, then caught my hand in his and reached for Grim's head as we all settled down together. I had begun to feel fear of him, but when Grim suffered his petting I took heart and cast it off. Grim was a good judge of men, and allowed few to handle him as did this old stranger.

"This is not unlike a night I once spent in the Canadas," broke out the rich, musical voice of the old man. "It was deep winter, and I lay in a little cave with two of my red brothers, after escaping from a great town of the Ottawa nation. For you must know, lad, there are many races of these red men, each at war with the other."

"I know little about it, sir," I answered.

Methought he gave a little impatient sigh at that. "Lord, will these thick-headed English never learn where lies their greatest rulership? But no matter. My own people, among whom I was a chief, were named Mohawks, and we had been captured by the Ottawas after a great raid out to the westward. All of us were sore wounded and far from home, having no meat save two rabbits we caught, all during the two weeks we lay there.

"Well, on this night of which I speak we were all but frozen, and at length made shift to build a small fire. All around us were our enemies, and we had seen a dozen braves searching that same day. It was something like midnight when I, who was on watch, saw a tall deer pass—"

And more of that story I never heard, because just at that instant the door of the cabin opened very softly, and I almost thought it had been done by a lurch of the ship but for feeling Grim bristle. Then my hair stood on end with pure horror, for in the cabin above the timber-groan and howl of the wind, there came three shrill, clear hoots of an owl.

A dark shape which had filled the doorway suddenly paused. Grim began a growl, but I checked him at hearing a chuckle from the old man, and berated myself for a fool. It was his work, of course. But there in the dark it sounded eerie enough, and when two raven-calls echoed out I scarce repressed a cry. A ragged streak of lightning outside showed us the figure of a man in the doorway, others behind him, and the gleam of bare steel; then as the light passed I sprang up, for in my ears had shrilled up the long sobbing howl of a wolf—a sound to wake the dead!

Wake me it did, and Grim too, for he answered it with another and leaped away from me. We heard a startled yell from the men, and then the old stranger slammed the door before Grim could escape.

"Easy, old boy, easy! Wait a bit till we get a light."

With a dexterous flint and steel he soon had the lanthorn going, to my no small satisfaction. Wat Herries was still sleeping, which I wondered at. I was still blinking when the old man pulled me up and took my hands in his.

"Davie, lad," he said softly, "you did a good deed this night. Now begone, and fear not for me. Those devils yonder will come near me no more save in the light of day."

"But—but—" I stammered fearfully, "was it witchcraft or—"

"Witchcraft? Forest craft, more like," he laughed, his white beard shaking at me. "'Tis a gift the Lord and the Mohawks gave me, but we will e'en give the Lord credit, Davie. So get you gone to sleep and breathe no word of this."

Much reassured at finding he had no dealings with the black art, though I deemed his speech not far from blasphemy, I caught hold on Grim and we both returned to the main cabin, where all was as we had left it and Alec Gordon still arguing stoutly. I flung down on a pile of canvas and went to sleep with Grim still in my arms, but that wolf-howl echoed through and through my dreams that night and I woke with it still in my ears. Indeed, it then seemed scarce a thing of this world, though I have since heard it often enough.

When I went on deck next morning we were in worse plight than ever, for it was biting cold and there were masses of ice around us, floating in the sea. I learned that we had been driven far north, where the seas are full of ice even in June, but it seemed a mighty strange thing to me. There was some fog also, and every now and then the "Lass" would heave her bows into an ice-cake with a shivering crash that boded ill for her timbers.

That day two of the womenfolk, both Gordons, complained of a new sickness, and Robin Grier said his teeth were loose in his head. My father and old Alec were puzzled enough, but when the stranger heard of it he ordered that the sick ones be given naught save green stuff to eat. That minded me of the talk I had overheard, but a warning glance from the old man checked the words on my lips. It was then we learned that many of the crew were sick likewise, of that plague called scurvy, which comes from eating no fresh green things. We were in sorry plight, for save a few potatoes our green stuff had all vanished long since.

That day there was no wind to speak of, and I drew Ruth up into the bows again, where we sat gloomily enough with plaids wrapped around to keep out the damp fog. I had seen Gib o' Clarclach once or twice, but he kept well out of my way and out of sight as much as might be. I told Ruth all that had taken place the night before, but at my fears of witchcraft and wizardry she laughed outright.

"Yet the old man said himself that he had been a chief among the red heathen of the Colonies," I argued, "while his speech was all but blasphemous."

Whereat she only laughed the more, and I grew sulky until she pointed to a little bunch of the crew in the shelter of the rail below us, in the waist.

"I am more feared of them than of any wizard, Davie," she said. "This terrible sickness is come upon us all, and we cannot fight against it. And see where we are come—up into the sea of floating ice! With Master Herries laid up in his bunk, and the men agog with superstition, we are like to have an ill time ere we reach the plantations."

"Just the same," I repeated stubbornly, "I cannot see how any one can be a chief among the heathen cannibals and still remain a God-fearing man. And why will he not tell his name, and whence he comes?"

This silenced Ruth for the time, and though she laughed again I could see that she was perplexed also. But with the contrariness of women she declared that the talk wearied her, and so changed the topic abruptly.

We lay idle for three days, with nothing save ice and fog around us. Then came another gale, this time from the east, and we began the weary fight once more. Strangely enough, my father and rugged old Lag Hamilton, with Alec Gordon himself, were now feeling the scurvy; and we were all of us frightened by it, and by our own helplessness. One of the dogs had been lost overboard, having ventured out on the deck in the storm, so thereafter I kept Grim safe inside the cabin.

Of the old stranger we saw little during those days. He was busy tending Wat Herries, which he did with the skill and tenderness of a woman, and we were all taken up with our own sick. Whenever I went on deck I saw that the crew obeyed Black Michael with a sullen, surly manner that boded ill. Many of them were sick also, and among these went Ruth with such small comforts as we had, till not a soul on board but loved her—save possibly one.

On the third day of that gale matters came to a head. I do not think any of us, save Ruth and I and the stranger, suspected that the crew had aught in mind; but had not my father been down with the plague I would then have told him all. The suspense was hard on me, almost too hard to bear. Day and night we had to keep watch, twice narrowly missing great mountains of ice, and on the third day we struck a water-lashed cake with such force that the "Lass" sprung a great leak.

When this was discovered the crew well-nigh went mad with fear. I was in the cabin when the crash came, and ran to the door with the others. When Black Michael ordered the men to the pumps, they rebelled flatly, and before he could so much as move he was trussed up like a fowl in one of his own tarred ropes. Then knives flashed out in the light and the men came surging aft. I cried out to Robin Grier and with our fathers' claymores, which we fetched from the cabin on the run, we stationed ourselves over the ladder at the break of the poop, and called on the men to halt. Tam Graham and those of the others who were not down with the sickness came out behind us.

With a sudden loathing I recognized the leader of the crew for Gib o' Clarclach. He stood looking up with his evil grin, but kept well out of reach of my weapon.

"Let us by, MacDonald," he spoke out. "We are acting for the good of all, and bring no harm to you and yours."

"That is a lie," I cried hotly. "I know well what you want, and you shall not pass by this ladder, you rebels! As for you, I have met you before now, Gib o' Clarclach, and know more of you than I did then. You got little good out of your visit the other night, and you will get little good now. Best stow away your knives and go about your work."

The only answer I got was a howl of rage from the men.

"The old wizard is Jonah!" yelled out the fellow called Eoghan, with a flourish of his long knife. "Put him into the sea again and let him go his way. He has bewitched us all, and we be dead men unless we rid the ship of him!"

This talk staggered Robin, who wavered and glanced at me, irresolute. Tam Graham muttered something behind me, and the men below yelled again and came at the ladder, seeing their advantage. But I would not give back, nor did I want to hurt any of them, so I brought down the flat of my father's claymore on Gib's crown, and tumbled him to the deck, whereat all drew back with a snarl.

As for Gib, he leaped to his feet and drew back his hand quickly. There came a flash of something, and Robin dashed me aside just in time to let a long knife fly under my arm. The scoundrel yelled something at me in a strange tongue, but before I regained my balance a sudden silence fell upon them all, and they stared past us. Turning, I heard a whispered prayer from Robin, and saw the old man.

He was standing just behind, a brass-bound pistol in each hand, his knees giving to the sway of the deck as the "Lass" pitched. Then a howl went up from the crowd below.

"Wizard!" they yelled, some in English and some in the Gaelic. "Get you gone and take your spells from us!" And they surged forward. But the old man raised his pistols, his white hair flying, and a fierce flame raging in his eyes. I think those eagle-eyes halted them more than the pistols, for they were in a mood to care little for two bullets.

"Fools!" he cried in English, and yet again. "Fools! Would you destroy your only hope? You dogs, I am Pierre Radisson!”