Joachim's Magic, page 6
Several more men came down with the ague including Master Haring, principal digger, so Ralph Lane conferring with Thomas Hariot, stopped the work temporarily and quarantined those who were sick. Delighted with such a holiday, Reis, Jeremie and Hugh, for Master Snelling was also sick, went off to the river’s edge to fish. Hugh lost interest right away, but Jeremie and Reis managed to catch some fine fat fish and sent Hugh with them back to the camp. Then he and Jeremie went trudging off into the woodlands to see if any rabbits had been caught in the snares.
The trees and brush were thick and quite overgrown. It was hard going and Reis wondered how far they should walk before turning back. But they found one rabbit in a snare with its neck broken and decided to walk just a little further. Jeremie strung the dead creature over his shoulder and thumped his chest.
“Mighty hunter,” he cackled, then darted away. Reis grinned. It was good to spend some time away from the furnace and its unbearable heat. The woods were chilly and damp; last night the first frost had cast a white sheen over everything. He shivered a little, wishing he had thought to wear his thick jacket.
“Where are you?” he called out to Jeremie but there was no reply. “Come you, ‘tis time to go back,” but again not a sound from his young friend.
Reis frowned. It was getting late and perhaps Dougham was looking for him. He called out to Jeremie and thought he heard a sound. Heading in the direction, he found himself torn by briars and scratched upon his already blistered arms. He gave a small cry of pain, then stumbled into a clearing to see Jeremie held in the vise-like grasp of a painted Savage.
Reis gasped. The Savage was standing there boldly, one arm around Jeremie’s waist, the other around his neck. Jeremie’s eyes were large and frightened beyond all reasoning. He couldn’t call out for the wind was being squeezed from him. Reis saw Jeremie’s eyes roll back and watched him slump over. The Savage gave a grunt and released his body to the ground. Jeremie lay in a small crumpled heap, no more than the dead rabbit still hanging from his shoulder. The Savage grabbed the rabbit and turned, stepping silently into the trees. When Reis blinked his eyes again he was gone. Reis felt his bowels turn to water. But he ran, instead, to his friend and shook him.
“Wake up, wake up.”
What would he do if Jeremie were dead? How would he tell the men at the camp what had happened? Would the Savage have killed him, too? Jeremie began to cough and moan, then suddenly sat up. He looked around with huge eyes.
“Is he gone?”
Reis nodded.
“What happened?”
“I was running and before I knew it, I felt myself grabbed from behind. He was choking me to death.”
Reis pulled Jeremie to his feet.
“‘Tis best we get out of here. He may be back. But I think he wanted your rabbit, that’s all.”
Jeremie was close to tears. He wiped his eyes furiously and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.
“Come,” said Reis, pulling him back toward their camp. “Come away now, lest there be others.”
The thought that there might be yet more Savages lurking in the trees caused Jeremie to sniff even louder. Reis tugged and tugged until he began to move. Reis kept glancing back into the thickness of the brambles. Was that a painted figure he saw darting behind a tree? Or was there one over in the grove just beyond that boulder? A sudden fear surged through him; he felt it coursing his veins, ‘run, run fast,’ and so they both began to race toward the camp. As they ran Reis imagined the arrow drawn back in the bow, the swift projectile speeding toward him, even now penetrating his body. He stumbled and almost fell, picked himself up and, dragging Jeremie, flew all the way back to the encampment.
“Ho now, what’s this? What has startled our apprentices so that they run into our camp as if another bear were after them?”
“Perchance they saw a lion, or maybe an elephant?”
Reis was gasping for breath.
“It was… it was….”
“A Savage,” cried Jeremie. “A Savage with paint on his face. He grabbed me and strangled me.”
At this the men jumped up. Master Hariot came running from the furnace shelter.
“Quick, boy, tell us again,” called Master Haring from his sick bed, rising up on one elbow.
“A Savage, say you?”
“Indeed, sir, one with stripes running down his face. He was holding Jeremie and choking him.”
The men began to gather in small group, conversing wildly. Some ran for their muskets and powder. Master Haring, claiming not to be sick any more, rose and pulled on his boots. Hugh Salter ran to hide in Master Snelling’s tent. Jeremie and Reis found themselves the center of attention and Jeremie, feeling safe amidst all the men, began expanding upon his tale. By the time he’d finished, his story included twenty Indians and a fire dance. Master Hariot fetched Ralph Lane who, by now, had heard the commotion. Master Lane immediately called the soldiers under his command into action and a detail of harquebusiers, with their sturdy muskets, were sent forth to scour the woodlands. Sentries were posted around the entire area and several perimeter fires were built and kept burning through the night.
Ralph Lane questioned Reis and Jeremie both, and the latter recanted his tale of so many and the fact that it was just one solitary native made the men breathe more easily.
“But vere there ist one, others there are,” Master Greutter’s voice came loud and clear and the men murmured their agreement.
“Perhaps he was alone,” Dougham ventured, “perhaps he was hunting only for food far from his camp. He took, after all, the rabbit the boy had.”
Master Greutter’s answer was biting and harsh.
“A rabbit now, then the boy, later us. Unless Master Gaunse thinks he ist safe because he, too, ist a heathen among us?”
Dougham’s eyes flashed, Master Greutter glared at him and Reis thought the two might have come to blows, except that Ralph Lane came in between and ordered Dougham to return to his hut and Master Greutter to his. Reis followed Dougham and willed his heart to stop beating so fast. A meeting of the men was swiftly called to order.
CHAPTER 9
THE SEARCH PARTY
RALPH LANE’S SOLDIERS tramped through brush and thicket around the place where Jeremie and Reis saw the Indian, but came back foot-sore and weary to say they’d found nothing.
“We crossed the entire area. There were no signs of one, nor many.”
Master Lane questioned Jeremie again, then called Reis over.
“Describe this Savage to me.”
Reis closed his eyes for a moment. He pictured the man holding fast to Jeremie, his hold slowly suffocating the boy, his eyes bright with anger…, no, it could have been hunger. He was lean and his ribs showed. His skin was dark and his hair black and flowing. Upon his faces were stripes of yellow and red.
“That’s all I remember, sir,” Reis said.
Ralph Lane looked harshly at him.
“Did you see others, Think, boy.”
Reis shook his head. There had been no others, at least none that were not in his imagination.
“How did you get away? Was there a struggle?”
Reis wondered what story Jeremie had told this great military man to impress him.
“There was no struggle. Jeremie fainted and the Savage grabbed the dead rabbit and ran back into the woods.”
Ralph Lane leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair.
“There was no attack?”
Reis shook his head.
“You’re sure of that?”
Master Lane called Thomas Hariot over to discuss the matter. Reis saw them conferring in serious tones. He walked over to Jeremie, where Hugh was hanging on his every word.
“What did you do when he drew his knife?”
Reis grabbed Jeremie.
“Such tales will get you in trouble,” he said angrily.
“He could have had a knife, you know. Maybe it was hidden….”
“Well, he didn’t use it on you.”
Master Hariot beckoned to Reis to join his discussion with Lane.
“We’re concerned,” he said, “for trouble with the natives is not what we wish.”
“I think he was only hungry. I think he wanted Jeremie’s rabbit, the one we took from the snare. He could have killed Jeremie, but he didn’t.”
Ralph Lane furrowed his brows. Reis boldly asked his question.
“Master Hariot, I thought the natives had welcomed the expedition last year. Isn’t that true? Why would they wish to harm us?”
“When Amadas and Barlow’s men came in 1584, this Secotan tribe was friendly enough. But there was trouble that arose soon after and some of the soldiers were killed. Ralph Lane thinks these may be the same as those before, led by one called Wingina, who now calls himself Pemisapan. There is always the possibility of trouble. We hope to trade with them for their copper, and that they’ll tell us their sources. Now that the one ran away, who knows what stories he may tell.”
“Only of two very frightened apprentices, I should think.”
Master Hariot gave a wry smile.
“Were you frightened?”
Reis wanted to say “No,” but both men were staring at him.
“I was most frightened. And when Jeremie dropped to the ground, I thought for certain the Savage had killed him.”
“Was he wearing any decorations of copper, perhaps around his neck or his wrist?”
“I saw nothing, I was….”
Thomas Hariot gave a small nod of his head and Reis walked away. Master Amadas, who had visited the Virginia lands in 1584 one year ago and had volunteered with great eagerness to accompany Sir Grenville’s expedition this year, went to join the other two.
Reis sought out Hugh and Jeremie again. They were eating and he joined them, suddenly realizing how famished he was. It was all too frightening for Hugh, whose mouth kept trembling at the corners.
“What if they come into our camp? What if they creep up in the middle of the night. We’ll be killed in our sleep!”
Jeremie nodded his head wisely.
“He was a fearsome sort, that’s for certain….” Then he saw Reis staring at him. “Well, I didn’t get to see his face, actually, he was behind me and holding me fast.”
Hugh was trembling even more.
“I told Master Ralph he was probably hungry and after the rabbit. If he had wanted to kill Jeremie, he would have done so right away.”
But Hugh was not to be comforted. H rose from his place and went to Master Snelling’s tent, there to bed most probably, Reis thought.
Jeremie tugged on Reis’s arm.
“Perhaps the two Savages we had with us were in league with them.”
Reis knew he was talking about Manteo and Wanchese, the two chiefs who had returned from England as part of this expedition, having been brought there in 1584 by Amadas and Barlowe. He shook his head.
“They were friendly to us,” he corrected Jeremie. “And besides, they’ve long since returned to their own people on Croatoan Island.”
“Maybe that’s why they left, knowing we would be attacked.”
Reis laughed.
“I don’t know where you get these ideas which fill your head. I overheard Master Lane praising Manteo for his helpfulness. Why would he wish to harm us? And if he knew of any attacks, surely he would have warned us all.”
Reis remembered the two Savages on the long voyage across the mighty sea. They had kept to themselves, speaking only with Master Hariot and that, to learn more English and to teach him their Croatoan tongue. They were both imposing figures, dark-skinned and muscular, with many shells and decorations about them, and painted symbols upon their bare shoulders. When The Tyger laid anchor, they had watched the men construct the settlement then spoke to Sir Thomas in low voices, after which Wanchese took his canoe and set sail for his island home to the south while Manteo stayed and assisted in some early explorations.
Master Lane called a meeting of all the captains and men at arms. They conferred long into the night and the conclusion was reached, Reis learned later, that an exploratory party would be sent north to search for signs of these Indians and see what supplies of copper they might have or know about. It would be a small group, possibly eight to ten men, with no soldiers to alarm them, and with many trinkets of glass, beads and dolls to barter for their copper jewelry. Reis wanted to go desperately. His heart was racing with the idea for, dangerous though it was, it was better by far than staying at the camp listening to Hugh and Jeremie whine about things, or cleaning boots and fetching firewood. He ran to ask Master Dougham if he might accompany them.
Surprisingly enough Master Dougham, after pondering the idea at some length, decided that it would be a good experience for him and besides, he could help carry some of the equipment.
“But it is of grave danger, for who knows what confrontations we may face.”
Reis hoped fervently that Ralph Lane would grant him permission to go. He watched all day and the next for a sign from Dougham that he was allowed, but his master said not a word, just busied himself with the gathering of equipment he felt he would need.
The men for the expedition north were picked carefully. Dougham would go, of course, for his skill in recognizing pure copper when he saw it. There would be Hans Altschmer to help with the determination of its purity by smelting. Then Thomas Hariot for his knowledge as a translator and John White, to draw the maps according to his skill. Master Lane would command the group and Philip Amadas, Edward Stafford and Captain Vaughan were to come, along with Masters Greutter and Haring for their strength. Master Lane changed his mind at the last moment and added two harquebusiers, a young soldier by the name of Valentine Beale, and another for protection. Added to the final list was the name of Reis Courtney, as bearer of such equipment and goods as he could carry. Reis was elated.
They were to head northward to explore the Chesapeake Baye, to map out the coastal regions there and try to find both a deep-water harbor and rich veins of copper. Instructions were given for maps to be drawn and charted. They would stay the winter months and return when their work was completed. The trinkets of beads and colored glass, and the dolls fashioned with wool hair and glass eyes, were for any Indian children of the warriors they might meet.
“‘Tis a known fact that the Savages prize their children and will warm to those who offer them gifts.”
They would leave two days hence, so Reis was kept busy sorting and packing. Outwardly he rejoiced, inwardly he was filled with a strange trepidation, a combination of wariness and outright fear at what they might encounter. The tales of torture and savagery among the northern tribes were well-known to those Englishmen who had traversed these lands before them; captured Spaniards had only served to heighten fear by adding their own tales of ferocity.
“I’m glad it’s you and not me who is going,” remarked Hugh while watching Reis pack. “I wouldn’t venture forth into unknown territory. This be enough for me and at least we have the soldiers to guard us.”
Reis shrugged, though Hugh’s words weighed heavily on his mind.
Jeremie said, “Well, I for one, wish I were going. It’ll be a great adventure and it doesn’t scare me.”
Reis thought of Jeremie’s eyes rolling back in his head as the Savage squeezed tighter. He grinned.
“Then ask Master Lane if you might go as well,” he suggested.
But when Jeremie approached their leader, the latter shook his head vehemently and forbid him. Jeremie sulked all day but Reis thought it a good decision; Jeremie was, after all, only ten. Reis kept out of everyone’s way during the rest of the preparations, busying himself with cleaning the equipment, packing the instruments, weights and measures that Dougham would need on such a long trip. He thought it best not to be underfoot, but kept his eyes and ears open so he could learn as much as he could about their journey. He hoped fervently that Master Lane wouldn’t change his mind and decide to strike his name from the list.
CHAPTER 10
THE JOURNEY NORTH
THEY MOVED OUT of the encampment amidst cheers of good luck from those remaining. The men wore thick garments for the nights were chill and as they headed North, Master Hariot said there would be a greater chance of snow. All the men were weighted down with equipment and some carried tents which could easily be pitched as shelters. Reis was so loaded that he staggered under his packs. It wasn’t long before his shoulders ached mightily and the ropes cut into his arms and chest. But he said not a word, for to complain would be to admit weakness. In disgust, Master Dougham might order him to turn around and follow the trail back to the main camp.
By the time they stopped for the night, Reis thought his back was surely broken. His calf muscles burned with fire and he shivered both from cold and tension. He was thankful when Master Amadas finally called a halt to their walking and they made rough camp at the river’s edge. They would follow the Chowan River north to where it joined the Blackwater, then northeast again, close to the Chesapeake lands.
Their camp was rude and makeshift and everyone was too tired to fish or lay a snare, so they ate the few provisions they’d brought. Tomorrow and all the days thereafter they would have to live off the land. Dougham, as usual, kept himself apart from the others, his crude tent pitched near the trees. Reis waited for his master to invite him to share sleeping quarters, at the ready with his rolled blanket. But Dougham made no such offer and Reis contented himself by staying close to the fire’s light and warmth. Near the fire he felt safer but strangely enough, he longed to be at Dougham’s side listening to his stories of copper and gold, hoping for yet anotherJewish tale, how God had chosen the Jews for His very own people and why He had done so. Right at that moment his master, no doubt, was saying his prayers.
